#apologies it's not exactly something u can reply to

[embodies]

DOWN THESE MEAN STREETS... scene prompts inspired by neo-noir, violence, control. ACCEPTING. gutter. the trail of blood ends and widowmaker find mercy broken on the ground.

@mawgores. amélie lacroix & angela ziegler.

the scene of the crime is a massacre. it is the only fitting way to describe it, for bloodbath would be too generous a word, not adequately picturing the carnage that has been wreaked by the likes of talon. it is not lacroix's signature work alone, although her personal stamp of the widow's kiss is noted in several skulls. bullets punched through layers of bone, gaping holes left in their wake. pools of blood form 'round their heads like crimson halos. reyes' leftovers are messier, less delicate in his deliverance of death, and mauga and akande's never - ending rivalry is painted in punches and chaingun trails that will take weeks of renovation to erase. les garçons seront toujours des garçon, she thinks to herself with a roll of amber optics as she nimbly steps over the carcass ( for ' corpse ' would be too kind ) of an unnamed citizen. collateral damage affects most talon members in the early days, but the likes of widowmaker has never experienced such guilt. or much of anything.

a rusted trail piques her interest : still fresh but darkening, surveillance skills critical in assessing the story it tells. smudged fingerprints suggest a struggle to crawl away, an injured animal tries to return home to die. widowmaker cannot risk the chance of survivors and so follows, heel of her boots echoing eerily in the too quiet landscape. the picture she stumbles upon is almost too good to be true, the fallen angel, oil on canvas, alexandre cabanel, 1847. not at all the same as the masterpiece visually, but just as romantically striking. it is one of the few things that gives the sniper pause, to see dr. ziegler so uniquely vulnerable. the caduceus staff lingers upon an open - handed palm, fingers still twitching to grasp it. what must it be like, to still wish to heal even in death ? she cannot begin to imagine. the medic is critically injured, notably not by lacroix's hand or she would not be still breathing. but it is evident the guardian angel will not be with them for much longer.

not deeming her a threat, moment is taken to be lost in thought and reflect on mercy's place in the world. widowmaker is not callous per se nor vindictive, so rather than basking in this moment or relishing the kill ( for the simple reason that it was not hers ) she instead maintains the respect of one witnessing a passing. can't help but wonder, selfishly, if things would have been different should angela have been her creator rather than moira. if a remnant of the dearly departed amélie may have been preserved at the hands of o'deorain's antithesis. if she could feel. eventually the acceptance comes that she will never know. at ease with this, a shrug develops into a roll of her neck, stooping to retrieve precious staff ( talon will benefit vastly from the technology ) and in turn press a kiss to her fingertips, then fingertips to ziegler's cheek.

❛ bonsoir, chérie. ❜

she doesn't spare a glance back as she walks away.

[connorsui]

In Your Arms

Zayne x reader

Genre/warnings: pure fluff, boyfriend zayne wanting peace and you give it, manz wanna make u a wife, no warnings we don't die around here...

Synopsis: Zayne finds solace in the warmth of your presence amidst the chaos of his demanding career, and silently, he cherishes every moment, hoping one day to make your bond official

Note: I wanted doctor zayne to cure my heart ....so I made doctor zayne want to make me a wife ...

w.c: 1,070

Zayne’s footsteps echoed softly in the sterile, dimly lit hospital corridor, his mind still entangled in the complexities of the latest surgery he’d performed. His shoulders were tense, a slight frown creasing his usually composed expression as he made his way out of the building. It had been another long day, filled with the kind of high-stakes decisions that most people couldn’t fathom. But as soon as he saw you waiting for him by the entrance, your face lighting up at the sight of him, something in him softened.

The sight of you there, with your soft smile and eyes that sparkled just for him, made the world tilt back into place. The weight of the day fell away, and for a moment, he allowed himself to simply bask in the warmth of your presence. He didn’t need to say anything; the way his eyes lingered on you, tracing the curve of your lips and the gentle slope of your shoulders, spoke volumes.

“Hi, Love! ” you greeted him, your voice a gentle balm to his frayed nerves.

“Hello, Sweetheart” he replied, his tone low and warm, the single word carrying a weight of unspoken affection. His hands itched to reach out, to pull you into his arms right there in front of everyone, but Zayne had always been careful with his emotions, especially in public. Instead, he settled for a small, almost imperceptible smile that you had come to recognize as his version of a bear hug.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the soft rustle of your clothing the only sound in the quiet night air. It wasn’t until you were inside his car, the doors closed, and the world shut out, that he allowed himself the luxury of touch. His hand reached out, fingers lightly grazing yours before he intertwined them, the simple gesture grounding him in a way nothing else could.

“I would like to first apologize to you …” he murmured after a few minutes, his voice laced with the kind of guilt that came from too many late nights and missed dinners.

Surprised; you questioned. “What for exactly?”

“I just know I haven’t been around much.”

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, offering him a soft, understanding smile. “Zayne, It's alright… I know you’re doing everything you can…But…let's focus on the now.. is there anything I can do to make your night better?”

He turned his head to look at you, his gaze searching your face for any sign of fatigue or frustration. Instead, he found only warmth and concern, your eyes silently urging him to let you take care of him for once. The tension in his chest eased a fraction, and he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Just being with you makes everything better,” he admitted, his voice rough with the weight of the day. “I don’t need anything else… just you.”

The ride to his apartment was filled with quiet conversation, the kind that flowed easily between two people who were entirely comfortable with each other. When you arrived, Zayne wasted no time pulling you close as soon as the door clicked shut behind you. His arms wrapped around you, his head resting on your chest as he exhaled deeply, finally allowing himself to relax.

“You’re so tense,” you murmured, your fingers instinctively threading through his hair, the familiar motion soothing both of you. “Why don’t you let me run you a bath? Or make you some tea?”

He tightened his hold on you, shaking his head slightly as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “No, just… this is what I need. You’re what I need.”

The way he clung to you, as if letting go would mean losing the one thing keeping him grounded, made your heart ache with a mix of love and concern. He was always so strong, so capable, but even Zayne had his limits, and you could see that he’d reached them tonight.

“Let’s get you to bed, then,” you suggested softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “You deserve to rest.”

He nodded against you, and you led him to his bedroom, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light over the room. Zayne moved with a quiet grace, his every action deliberate as he turned to face you, his hands settling on your waist.

“I’m sorry I’m not more… put together tonight,” he murmured, his eyes heavy with exhaustion as he leaned in to rest his forehead against yours.

“You don’t have to be anything other than yourself with me,” you whispered back, your hands coming up to cup his face. “I love you just as you are, Zayne.”

His breath hitched slightly at your words, and he pressed his lips to yours in a slow, lingering kiss that made your heart swell with emotion. There was no rush, no urgency—just the deep, abiding love that had grown between you over time, steady and unshakable.

When he pulled back, his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, his eyes meeting yours in silent question. You nodded, and he carefully lifted your shirt over your head, his hands warm against your skin as he undressed you with the same precision he used in surgery.

Once you were both stripped down; Zayne pulled you into bed, his arms wrapping around you as he settled you against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, a comforting rhythm beneath your ear as you laid together in the quiet.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, his lips brushing the top of your head.

“It’s perfect,” you whispered back, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin.

Zayne smiled against your hair, his hold on you tightening slightly as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. In that moment, with you wrapped up in his arms, he felt complete, as if all the pieces of his life had finally fallen into place.

“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “ — to be here with you… it’s all I need.”

You nestled closer, your heart swelling with love for the man who had given so much of himself to others, yet asked for so little in return. “I’m here, Zayne. I’m always here.”

As you drifted off to sleep, Zayne couldn’t help but think about how much he wanted this—wanted you—every day for the rest of his life. And one day, he would make that dream a reality. But for now, he was content to hold you close, savoring the warmth of your body against his as he followed you into sleep.

Doctor zayne with a need for you is the only man I will ever need

[lovebugism]

i have a lot of nightmares and shake a lot when nervous. could u maybe write something abt a reader that goes through similar issues, and eddie comforts them and tries to make them feel safe? u can do whatever u like with this, i just need some fluff! :]

as someone who also has frequent nightmares, this was very self-indulgent heheh i hope you like it :D — eddie calms you down when you have a bad dream (hurt/comfort, established relationship, cw for mentions of panic attacks, 1.2k)

Eddie didn’t know he loved you until now. Like, right now.

He’d always had an inkling, at the very least, but he didn’t know for sure until he got you into his bed — bare-faced and swallowed whole in an oversized t-shirt older than you are. You share a single pillow with him despite having your own, leaving your noses mere inches apart. His tired eyes go a bit cross-eyed when he looks at you.

Despite his heavy head and heavier eyelids, he doesn’t want to stop looking at you. He doesn’t want to stop talking to you, either. He doesn’t want to fall asleep at all ‘cause he’s scared he’ll miss you too much. 

And that’s when he realizes that he’s head over heels, completely, utterly, and hopelessly in love with you.

“You asleep yet?” he whispers into the dark bedroom, lit only by the streams of silver moonlight slipping through the curtains.

You shake your head against the pillow you share with him. “No,” you mumble — voice thick with exhaustion, eyes fluttered shut.

“Good,” Eddie replies, shifting on the mattress until he melts further into it. Your cold feet entwine with his warmer ones. He exhales a contented sigh through his nose. “Me neither…”

You can’t be entirely sure who dozed off first, but you know for certain you wake up before he does. 

3:47 A.M. blinks at you in bright red numbers on the nightstand. The witching hour greets you along with a rapidly beating heart, thrumming hard against your ribcage like it’s trying to escape from its confines.

The nightmare was a vivid one when it painted the backs of your eyelids, but you can’t really remember it now. You think that might be worse. Now you don’t know why you’re so scared — you just know that you are.

Fear, that’s all you can think about now, as your body trembles with a heavy, ice-cold feeling. Fear. Panic. Dread. 

The nightmare fades. Eddie’s body, warm and comforting next to yours, becomes a much more tangible thing. But you just can’t shake the feeling it left behind. The bad dream clings to you like smoke and swallows you whole before you can blink.

You shake with the longing to hold the boy beside you. If only you could clutch onto Eddie like a life vest, or a life-sized teddy bear, maybe then you could soothe your racing heart. But you know you don’t want to wake him, just like you know you don’t want him to see you like this — so torn up over a stupid bad dream.

You sit on the edge of the mattress and try to calm yourself down. The attempt is futile. You end up with a tight chest, a pounding heart, and two cheeks damp with fat tears. 

After no longer than five minutes of trying to stave off a panic attack by yourself, do you notice the bed shifting behind you. A wide palm smooths over your trembling shoulders a second later.

Eddie squints at your shivering silhouette, trying to see you better through the darkness and bleary haze of sleep. He finds you slouched over and clawing at your chest like something’s wrong. Your choked-back sobs and quiet sniffles aren’t any less concerning.

“You okay?” the boy slurs as he sits up behind you.

“‘M sorry,” you blurt, voice wet with emotion. You don’t know exactly what you’re apologizing for. You just feel like you should. Through hitched breaths, you manage out, “I didn’t— I didn’t mean to wake you— I’m sorry.”

Eddie shakes his wild head in response. The mattress squeaks under his weight as he shifts closer to you. “It’s okay. I woke up on my own,” he tells you, even though that’s not exactly the truth. “What happened, huh? Are you okay?”

You sniffle and try to respond through feeble gulps of air. “It was just a bad dream. I’m okay—” you blubber through tears, breath catching halfway through.

With his palm pressed to your spine, Eddie can feel each of your rattling breaths as you fight to drag them in. It makes his own chest ache. Your panic is his own.

“Breathe, baby, c’mon,” he urges gently as he slips in beside you. With one hand over your trembling shoulder, he slides his other over your heart. The delicate organ patters with an inhuman vigor against his palm. 

“Gotta calm down, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your temple before pressing a kiss there. “‘Fore you heart explodes on me. Breathe, babe. You’re okay.”

Your swelling throat tightens. “I don’t feel good,” you confess through tiny whimpers, ‘cause you don’t know how else to tell him it feels like you’re dying. You put a cold, trembling hand over one of Eddie’s — the one gently cradling your heart — and fight to stay grounded.

The boy’s brows pinch with concern. “Do you feel like you’re gonna be sick?”

You think for a moment. Then shake your head.

Eddie rubs a hand up and down the length of your back. “You’re doing good, babe. Just keep breathing for me. That’s it.”

He pulls you closer, embracing you despite the awkward angle. Your shoulder presses into his chest as your head nestles between his jaw and shoulder. You rest there until it no longer feels like you’re fighting for each breath. Until your ragged sobs turn into mousy sniffles.

The first thing you think to do after you’ve calmed is apologize.

“‘M sorry,” you murmur, thick with leftover emotion.

You feel his head shake against you, untamed curls tickling your skin. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay.”

You snivel. “I feel like such a baby…”

“Everyone has bad dreams, babe. That’s life,” Eddie tells you with a lighthearted laugh. “I can’t count how many times I’ve slept on the couch after having one just so I could be closer to Wayne. Like, that’s embarrassing.”

“No, it isn’t,” you argue with a scrunched nose, cracking a small (but no less sincere) grin.

Eddie smiles at your smiling. He squeezes your shoulder with a gentle hand. “Wanna talk about it?” he offers, watching as you visibly ponder the question. You shake your head in response. He nods in understanding. “Wanna go back to sleep?”

You shake your head again, much less hesitant this time. You’re too scared to shut your eyes for longer than a blink now — lest the nightmare threaten to plague your mind again.

“Wanna sit in the kitchen with me while I make us some hot cocoa?” Eddie offers then.

You nod slowly, pursing your lips to the side of your mouth to hide the smile pulling there. You can’t help but beam, though, when he smacks a kiss to the warm apple of your cheek.

“C’mon, sweet thing,” he urges as he rises from the bed, pulling you gently with him. He guides you out of his bedroom with a warm hand cradling your smaller one. The quiet trailer fills with the sounds of creaking floorboards, bare feet shuffling against carpet, and Eddie’s tender voice.

“I’ll even pick out marshmallows from the Lucky Charms box to put in your cocoa—” he says before a yawn cuts him off. “—‘Cause that’s how much I love you.”

[alwaysmoncheri]

hiii would u be open to writing remus lupin x reader with the prompt *x put head on y’s shoulder* “just don’t leave…” with either remus saying it or the reader? no worries if not <3 🦌🦌

hi, my love!! thank you for requesting! i hope this is what you’re looking for! i was in a little bit of a writer block last night so this may not be my best work, i apologize for that, honey </3

cw: fem!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of remus being a werewolf, remus feels insecure, the marauders not being very helpful, established relationship, crying, 0.9k

<3

Remus isn’t one to hide who he is, you know he’s a werewolf, he’s been vulnerable with you before, so when he starts to become a little distant from you, you know exactly why. The past few days have been rough for him, you know. Leading up to a full moon is almost always worse than the aftermath. But this time, Remus seems particularly bothered. He still holds your hand to classes and reads to you at night, but something about the way he always is distracted, like loosely holing your hand without knowing and constantly losing his place while reading makes you feel like his mind is truly elsewhere.

The Marauders aren’t helping the situation either. Sure, they’re supportive of their friend and you know they’re always there for him, but the pitying glances don’t go unnoticed by both you and Remus and you don’t presume he is very fond of those looks. You don’t blame him.

At dinner, the night before the full moon, James, Sirius, and Peter keep repeating the same set of motions. Their eyes dart from each other, their food, to Remus, and back to each other. You fight the urge to roll your eyes at their obvious display of concern because Remus doesn’t really need that right now and they should know that after all this time. After tolerating the silent glances for the majority of dinner, Remus shifts uncomfortably, his eyes not leaving his food. You gently slide your hand into his, hoping offer some comfort, and when he accepts you take it a step furthur and draw small circles with your thumb on the back of his hand. This doesn’t last long. When the other three boys offer sympathetic smiles, Remus notices and stands from his seat, dropping your hand and walking out of The Great Hall with quick strides.

“Would you guys quit it?” you hiss at the boys across the table who’s eyes widen at the abrupt snap of your head in their direction.

“What?” They reply in unison and share a few nervous glances before returning to your harsh gaze.

“Remus clearly isn’t doing well,” you say, pointing out the obvious, “the least you can do is not look at him like he’s dying.” you add gesturing in the direction of the door, where Remus had walked out of.

“We’re not—”

“Save it,” you cut James off, who makes an attempt to defend the three of them. You roll your eyes, standing from your seat, “I’m going to check on him.” you state before following the previous path of your boyfriend, out the door and to your dorms.

When you arrive in the common room and head towards the boys’ dorm you hear quiet sobs echoing through the door. Your throat tightens and you hesitate to move towards the sound, but you do anyway because you know Remus needs somebody and you’re always willing to be that somebody.

“Remus?” you call out before pushing the door open and are met with a sniffling Remus, eyes red and puffy. Your heart almost breaks in two, the sight enough to make you feel the clenching in your chest and for a moment, you unknowingly hold your breath.

“Hey, lovely.” Remus greets and his voice cracks with the attempt to cover a sob that might’ve escaped his lips.

“Oh, honey.” you whisper and Remus bows his head, with shame or just to wipe the tears off his face, you don’t know. You walk towards the bed before sitting next to him, hand rubbing his shoulder, slowly sliding down to hold his hand, once more, “Do you want to talk about it?” you offer, bringing Remus to lift his head up and meet your gaze, a lump grows in your throat at his broken expression and you try to keep it together for him.

“I’m just so tired—” Remus starts, before a sob escapes his lips. He reaches out for you and you don’t hesitate to bring him into your arms, his head rests on your shoulder, your hands cupping the back of his neck, while his hands wrap around you waist, “ —I don’t want to be like this anymore.” Remus admits, his voice breaking and you feel your shirt dampen with tears.

“Hey, I’m here.” you say, gently running your hands through Remus’s hair and up and down the length of his back, “James, Sirius and Peter are here.” You add and you feel Remus’s sobs turn to sniffles against your shoulder. “Even if they get on your nerves, they mean well.”

“I know…” Remus says, the sound muffled against your shoulder. He lifts his head, your eyes meeting his puffy ones, “Is it okay if we just stay like this?” Remus asks hesitantly, as if you would ever say no to him.

“It’s more than okay.” You whisper, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. You start to shift your body further onto the bed before Remus’s tight grip around your waist prevents you from doing so. Your eyebrows furrow with confusion before hearing Remus’s desperate voice.

“Don’t leave me, please…” Remus begs, clinging onto you.

I’m never going to leave you,” you reply and Remus nods continuously against your shoulder, his hair falling into his face and brushing yours, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Remus says, his voice shaky but calmer than before, “I don’t know what I would do without you.” He admits and your heart warms with his words.

You smile, pulling the both of you back onto his bed in a more comfortable position with his head still tucked into your shoulder, “And you’ll never have to know,” you whisper before you close your eyes and allow yourself to rest.

<3

masterlist . remus lupin masterlist . taglist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

tags: @googie-jeon, @annoyingmidgetwhowrites, @jordie-gvf, @marauderswhxre, @vixparker, @moonsupremacy01, @enamoredwithbella

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

[erensfeed]

bf!rafayel who discreetly burns gifts, flowers & love letters delivered to you via P.O. box, by (male) fans who admire you for your skills as a deepspace hunter... simply because he can be a little jealous.

*deeply offended after you confronted him*

“ I thought they had bombs in them, and here I was thinking I was doing you a favor. ”

He gave you the sassiest silent treatment the whole day. Thankfully you were good at that too so you won and he apologized.

..apologized to himself for leaving any of his evidence behind. bf!rafayel who randomly sends you separate multiple texts over silly things.

- rafie: sooo i decided to try a new workout routine today - rafie: what was i thinking... now i cant lift my arms without wincing - rafie: fitness goals? more like fitness fails🤕

bf!rafayel who purposefully calls you while you're out on a mission, just to pretend to be lost at the same mall he introduced YOU to. all for the sole purpose of wanting to be reminded that he was dating you because he saw a bunch of couples at the mall.

"AT TWINKLE MALL?" “Yea? Why are you acting surprised like we both don’t know how I forget stuff,” He casually replies. The sound of rustling catches your attention in the dense underbrush you were currently located at, to fight off the wanderers your watch sensed in the area. Trying to pinpoint the source of the noise before responding, your eyes scanned the specific area. “But you know this mall way better than— ” Just as you were about to look away, a wanderer lunged itself at you. You manage to dodge its strike just in time before shooting at it. “…me—!” "So?" You couldn't believe him, nor your ears, at very next things he uttered once you defeated the wanderer. “You… !” "Just stay on call with me," He said as made his way to his sports car, carrying in one hand a bag of art supplies; and in the other, certain things you eyed the last time you were together in the mall. "I miss hearing your voice."

bf!rafayel who was next to you and saw you talking to another guy so he made sure to sigh loudly whenever he conviniently felt that you were forgetting his presence.

It was a little boy who needed your help finding his stuffed animal.

"I need your help all the time too. Yet you dun see me calling you every time." He does exactly that.

a/n: I saw the first scenario on an ig comment bc someone was saying Rafayel was the type to burn love letters given to you by people or something and I HAD to include that here with more details bc why not 😹. so credits to them for the extra if they see this ;o * also he's such a pisces male omg. as a pisces female, pls stay about 80 billion feet away from pisces guys. ok fine unlesss they are a rich fictional painter w purple hair and call u "cutie" & "girlfriend" from time to time

©2024 ERENSFEED. all rights reserved.

[urhoneycombwitch]

shrine of your lights

🍯 honey flavour: edibles and a church wedding to attend. what could go wrong with Eddie as your plus one? 

🐝 the bees: FWB!Eddie x reader 

wc: 4.8k

content warnings: a smidge of Catholic blasphemy, weed usage, friends w/ benefits Eddie, R is a bit of a love (and relationship) skeptic and Eddie is lovesick, R+E are in their 20’s, pining, public sex (no one but them observes tho), R has hair long enough to tuck behind ears, R gets a hickey but skin tone/color is not described, R has breasts and a V, softdom Eddie, marking kink (?)

foreword: I listened to Say You Love Me by Fleetwood Mac for this. LOL. kind of AU bc it’s a few years after ssn 4 and everyone is alive and just fine (lovesick but oh well can’t b helped) based on this anon thank u for inspiring me!!!!

The stained glass window in front of you looms tall, afternoon light streaming through and casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the polished wood flooring. You stretch out a hand into the warm beam of sun, admiring the way the colors catch and bounce off your dainty star-chain bracelet.

When Eddie had suggested you two eat some weed brownies as a precursor to your (very distant, very Catholic) cousin’s wedding, you hadn’t quite expected to get as stoned as you are now. Since Eddie hasn’t attended any major life functions sober since 1981, and seeing as how you refuse to step foot inside a church space without some sort of social lubricant, the weed wasn’t a hard sell at all. 

To be fair, Eddie had warned you of their potency, and you had snuck another quarter of a brownie when his back was turned: but christ, your tolerance must be crazy low or something, ‘cuz a window has no right to be this mesmerizing. 

You’ve been staring at it for the past five minutes, in your own little world while a steady stream of wedding guests file in through the big oak doors and mill about before the ceremony. The warm, still air of the church is heady with the smell of fresh florals and incense, and a line of votive candles flicker and wink against the windowsill.

Casting a glance over your shoulder, you see Eddie’s still speaking in gentle tones with an elderly woman (whom you’re likely related to, hard to say) near the foyer, all charming smile and sincere hand pressed to the slip of bare chest his button-down displays. You’ve got to hand it to the guy, he’s really great at endearing himself to total strangers; he’s been a natural shoe-in for any plus-one you’ve needed over the past few years.

While Eddie is perfectly in his element, holding what looks to be an engaging conversation while stoned to all hell, your focus is drawn back to the window. You should probably be on the arm of your guest, seeing as how it’s your family wedding after all, but the swirling lights and colors are too alluring to pull yourself away from.

“Beautiful piece of art, isn’t it?”

The voice behind you is unfamiliar, and proper social graces here would call for an introduction, perhaps a firm handshake, but your limbs and tongue feel so loose and the reply is out of your mouth before you can think twice- “God, yeah. S’fucking gorgeous. I want one for my house.”

There’s a light cough, and when you turn on your low-heeled Mary Janes it’s under the amused eye of a priest- in full priest-garb. Green velvet robes and little hat and everything.

You realize your error- swearing and taking the Lord’s name in vain- but the brief stint in Catholic school from when you were 6 is unfortunately not recalled in time to stop the scramble of swears mixed with apologies that come tumbling out. 

“Oh shit- I mean- fuck. Oh god. Sorry, Father, I didn’t mean-”

The priest- old as hell but thankfully with sense of humor still intact- smiles kindly at you and takes your hand in both of his, patting graciously. “No apologies are necessary, my dear. The beauty of God can be overwhelming and awe-inducing.”

You nod jerkily, grabbing on to his excuse- “Yes, yep. That’s exactly what happened. Struck down by the awe.”

The priest nods to you, and then to Eddie (who’s appeared at your side like a guard dog that sensed trouble), then wanders off down a row of pews to greet other guests.

You’re nearly doubled over with the effort it takes to conceal your laughter, Eddie stroking a calming hand down your back and chuckling with you under his breath. 

“Struck down by the awe, huh?” he echoes as you straighten back up and dab at the tears gathering against your lashline. “You really are somethin’.”

“That was so embarrassing but guess what-” here you lean in, voice a conspiratorial whisper as Eddie raises his eyebrows to look down his nose at you- “I don’t give a fuck ‘cuz I’m hi-igh.”

This last word is sung with a two-note lilt, and you turn back to the comfort of the sunny window as Eddie steps in beside you, shaking his head. “I told you to start with a lower dose, ya goose. Did you take more when I wasn’t looking?”

You shrug a shoulder, the soft linen of your cardigan brushing up against the hard leather of Eddie’s jacket. “Maybe. Couldn’t say. You gonna steal this window for me or what?”

He blows out a breath, pretending to appraise the size and heft, rapping his ringed knuckles against the sill- “Well normally I’d say ‘anything for my girl’, but we’d need a shrink ray for this type’a heist.”

“Maybe Dustin has one we can borrow.”

He sucks his front teeth, playing along, shaking his head in faux-disappointment. “Nah, little shit’s only got a ham radio. Useless when it comes to religious robbery.”

Eddie looks overly pleased when you giggle, but some of the humor in his face falls to concern as he reaches out to squeeze your upper arms. “Hey. You doin’ okay? If you’re too stoned to sit through the ceremony, I can find us a little spot to hole up in. I’m good at finding those.”

“I know you are,” you reply, waving away his worry. “I’m fine, honest. Do I look high?”

He holds you at arm’s length, giving you a contemplative once-over. “Nope. You look beautiful.”

You roll your eyes, affectionately, then smooth your palms over the front of your black slip dress and pull the scalloped sleeves of your cardigan into place. “Well, of that I am aware.”

Eddie winks, and you really wish you were sober enough that the warmth of his hands and the smell of his cologne would have less of an effect but high as you are, you want nothing more than to burrow into his neck and taste the salt of his skin. 

“Do I look high?” he asks, pulling away to do a little spin so you can appraise his appearance. 

Eddie Munson, as it turns out, cleans up very well for family functions: smart black boots, maroon button-down tucked into a pair of flare-legged trousers, worn but well-kept leather jacket to top the outfit off. And in signature Eddie fashion, little glints of silver highlight the ensemble- his usual chunky rings, stacked layers of thin chain necklaces, metal buckles on his coat and at his waist, even a set of tiny hoops (courtesy of your jewelry drawer) in his ears. 

The dryness in your mouth has nothing to do with your intoxication as you blink back to the present and give Eddie a once-over. “Uhm. Nope. You look sober. And very hot.”

He grins at you, wolfish, but then a bright chord of organ music signals the start of the ceremony. With a steady hand on your back, he leads you to a pew near the last row; when you’re both seated, his hand runs smoothly down to rest on your thigh, drumming a lazy beat with his thumb against you as the processional starts. 

Your cousin Marion looks lovely swathed in white tulle, contrasted with her groom in a black tux. Her mother, your aunt- Karen? Karina? can’t recall- dabs at her tears with a delicate lace handkerchief in the front pew as the couple exchanges vows, promising eternal and ineffable love until their ultimate demise, etcetera. 

You’re not someone who’s ever fallen prone to the gushy emotions that love seems to create in so many of your peers. While Nancy and Robin will dole out tissues to each other during some cheesy romcom, you’ll get ribbed for being so stoic. None of your breakups have ever ended in giant blowouts or dramatics from your side- hard to fight for something when you hadn’t really cared about it in the first place. 

That’s why you consider yourself so lucky, when it comes to Eddie. After the two of you ended your high school fling due to graduation, you’d come back to Hawkins after a few years of college and found yourself sneaking out like a teenager again to hang out with Eddie Munson. 

He told you he doesn’t want anything serious, either, and that he’s just fine being friends who sleep around and go to all of each other’s parties.

You almost believe him. 

He’s been to every one of your nephew’s hockey games this past season, and you’ve spent two cozy Christmases so far at the trailer with him and Wayne; every party in between has ended with Eddie driving you home, or (more frequently) back to his place. Your collective relatives and friends haven’t asked about your relationship status in years, and it’s all thanks to Eddie’s presence in your life: if the two of you aren’t technically dating, it’s really no one’s business. 

The old priest from earlier is droning on about some bible verse; uncomfortable on the hard bench and feeling restless, you shift your hips, and Eddie digs his fingers into the meat of your thigh.

“Quit. Squirming,” he murmurs, lips at your ear. When you shiver and still, he pats your leg and straightens again, eyes fixed to the front altar.

You and Eddie make it through the ceremony with minimal damage, only getting one dirty look from an older man in the pew ahead when you’d snickered at a dirty joke (courtesy of your benchmate). Marion and her new husband greet their guests one by one as everyone filters outside, and you coast easily through the interaction, kissing your cousin on both cheeks and fawning over her dress and giving just the right amount of congrats before Eddie plucks at your elbow to subtly redirect your attention. 

“Let’s get some food in you,” he says, linking your arms together as you follow the receiving line outdoors.

The reception is held just next to the church building in a surprisingly lovely courtyard. Sunlight filters through the willow trees at the edge of a grass yard, where a picnic basket awaits on each spread quilt. People are kicking off their dress shoes, unwinding with the lure of nature, kids chasing each other through the paths between blankets as adults wiggle their toes into the grass and dig into the luncheon.

Possibly, you’re high and over-romanticizing, but you can tell by the look on Eddie’s face he’s there with you, taking it all in from your blanket in a quiet corner of the yard. 

There are finger sandwiches in the basket, along with some fresh fruit and plastic utensils and plates to eat off of; Eddie fixes you a plate and you dig in happily, sock feet tucked under yourself, yours and Eddie’s shoes in a jumble nearby. 

“Could eat anything when I’m high,” you muse, then bite into a sandwich that has the perfect cream-cheese-to-cucumber ratio with a contented sigh. “Food is so good.”

Eddie snaps a baby carrot with his back teeth, then snorts at you before reaching out to tuck one side of your hair behind your ear before it gets eaten along with your food. “I know you can eat anything when you’re high. I once saw you scooping up apple pie with potato chips.”

You give him a sidelong frown, mouth full of bread and veg as you defend yourself- “Yeah, and it was great. Dee-licious. Would do it again if-”

Your name is being called, and you swivel to see a young man about your age weaving along the spaces between blankets towards yours and Eddie’s spot.

“Tony!” In a neat bit of multitasking, you manage to swallow your food and rise to your feet (albeit unsteadily, with Eddie’s hand snapping out to support your efforts), then hold your arms out to envelop the boy in a hug. “Oh my god, it’s been ages.”

Anthony Townsend has grown up in the time you’ve spent away- the last recollection you have of your former childhood neighbor is his mop of red hair bouncing with the trampoline his parents bought him in 6th grade. He grew into his looks, for sure- the awkwardness of pre-teen ears and too-big front teeth have settled into a very kind and handsome face.

He looks genuinely pleased to see you, returning your hug with a squeeze, pulling back to hold both your hands and ask about where you’ve been. You breeze through a highlighted version of the last few years, leaving out all the interdimensional monster bullshit and focusing the questions back on him.

Tony’s telling you about his father’s veterinary practice that’s still running smoothly when you feel Eddie at your back, and Tony falters, dropping your hands.

Social cues come a tad slow to you, under the influence, and you think Tony’s stumbling because you haven’t introduced him yet (how were you supposed to know Eddie’s been glaring daggers at the poor kid ever since you’d hugged him?), and you attempt to remedy your mistake with a casual remark- “You know, Eddie here has been feeding the stray cats at our place every night, a whole colony of them- there’s gotta be, what, ten of ‘em now?”

You turn to Eddie for confirmation, reeling a little at the dark scowl he’s still sporting as he nods. “Yup. Somethin’ like.”

Tony scratches at the back of his neck, freckled cheeks pink as he begins to back away- “Um, yeah. Cool. Well it was great to see you! I gotta…”

With a vague gesture, he turns and tails it back to his blanket on the other side of the yard. You whirl on Eddie, his face smoothing back into relaxed indifference, even as you hiss, “What the hell was that?”

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t know what you mean, princess.”

“That,” you repeat, waving an arm in the air for emphasis. “I know I’m not sober but you were being weird, even by my standards.” 

There’s this look that Eddie gets, sometimes, when one of you bumps against the walls of your loosely-defined relationship- a brief flash of pain and sadness before it gets hidden away behind his comfortable mask of bravado.

He’s got it now- a small pinch in his eyebrows, doey eyes swimming with emotion, and you put a hand on his leather-clad arm as the pieces fall into place. “Were you… are you jealous?”

In the span of a blink, the mask is back up, and with a dry laugh that’s so unlike him, Eddie shakes his head. “Nah. What do I have to be jealous of, huh? ‘S not like we belong to each other.”

Maybe on a different day, with half the weed in your system, you’d be able to let this comment slide. But there’s something deeply hurtful about it, sinking and twisting in your stomach like a stone. Your grip tightens on Eddie’s arm, tears stinging hot at your eyes, voice a watery, desperate thing- “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

Eddie is quick to comfort you, once he realizes you’re close to crying- “Shit, sweetheart. Okay. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to think…” Your voice is still shaky with emotion as Eddie lets you hold on to him, gently shushing you even though there’s no one near enough to hear. “You’re important to me, Eddie. I never wanna make you mad, or upset, or-”

“I’m not.” Eddie cuts smoothly into your rambling, placing his hands on either side of your neck as you cling to him, cool rings kissing into your skin. “I’m not mad, promise. I was just being an asshole for no reason, okay? Could never be mad at you.”

His thumb strokes at the column of your throat, your breath and heart rate lulled to normal under his touch, his expression returning to the gentle fondness you’re used to seeing.

“Let’s finish up lunch, hm?” Eddie says, and with a final soft squeeze he pulls away from you, taking with him the warmth of his palms.  

It’s always like this, with him, at least in front of your respective families- any PDA is kept to a strict minimum, nothing too intimate or drawn out so as not to attract attention. You’d implemented this rule from the beginning, and Eddie has been nothing but respectful of it, your peace of mind over not wanting a label pacified.

But right now? The lack of Eddie’s arms around you or his lips on yours was starting to make you ache. 

You both settle into the blanket again, conversation flowing around mouthfuls of food as you catch Eddie up with the latest family gossip, laughing when he bats your pointer finger out of the air (as if anyone is really paying attention to you two giggling loons). 

Someone’s brought a radio and has it dialed to a soft rock station; you gasp and shove at Eddie (sprawled out like a house cat after a full meal in the sun), exclaiming “It’s Fleetwood Mac and you love Fleetwood Mac!”

“I so don’t,” he grumbles, but rises easily when you tug at him to stand sock-to-sock feet with you in the grass. 

You both fall into a smooth rhythm, Eddie’s hands staying (respectably) on your hips, yours looped around his neck, doing a slow little rotation. He gazes at you as you sway back and forth in each other’s arms, the scrutiny making you titter and fidget.

“What?”

“Thought I told you to quit squirmin’,' ' comes his answer, hands tightening into the meat of your waist. “Let me look at you a minute.”

So you let him look. 

While his chocolate eyes roam your face, you trail a hand up to curl a lock of his hair around your finger. Eddie leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut, giving you room to do some staring of your own at those long, dark lashes. 

After another slow circle, Eddie inhales and draws himself back, clearing his throat. “Not that I’m not enjoying this, sweetheart, but we’re gonna start getting looks if you don’t quit using me as your personal stress toy.”

You snort. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“All good,” he replies, dimples springing into his cheeks, teasing again- “When we get home later you can pet me like a dog, if you want. Just gotta tone you down ‘cuz you get touchy when you’re high.”

Eddie’s being a perfect gentleman. He’s sticking to your rules and looking out for you.

So why is it making you so sad?

You realize, with a stunning clarity, that you don’t want to wait until you’re back at the trailer to touch Eddie. That you’re starting to crave him when he leaves, whether it’s for a day or an hour or just out of bed to get a snack. 

Fuck it, you think, and bend to scoop up your shoes. 

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you tell Eddie, slipping on your shoes then starting towards the building. When you realize he’s not following, you pause, giving him a look over your shoulder- “Aren’t you coming?”

Eddie blinks, wondering if you’re insinuating what he thinks you’re insinuating or if he’s just really, really high. “Um. Uh…”

You don’t leave room for the shock to sink in, turning on your heel and smirking when you hear him swear under his breath and scramble to catch up. 

In a narrow hallway lined with portraits of long-dead saints, you push Eddie against the wall, mouth sealing over his and hands roaming hungrily over his body.

“Fuck,” he gasps out, in between kisses, your fingers tugging at the root of his hair, near the nape of his neck where it stings the best- “what’s got you so worked up, princess?”

“You.” The answer is an honest one. You slip your tongue between Eddie’s teeth and the boy moans, melting into you.

Peppering kisses down Eddie’s face, your lips settle into the hollow just under his jaw, then part to give room to your teeth. Eddie stiffens as you bite down, sensitive skin pierced by your mouth; it’s his turn to be the squirmy one as you suck a bruise into that soft spot. 

His cock is filling out, as proved by the steadily-growing bulge behind his zipper. You give a mean little wiggle of your hips and Eddie jolts so hard you lose your spot on his neck, popping off him with a wet smack.

“Angel, you have to stop.” Eddie sounds absolutely wrecked as he tries to maintain some distance, head tipped back to stare at the popcorn ceiling. “M’not gonna last if you keep doing that. Let me take you home, we can-”

“Shhh.” You quiet him with a pointer finger smooshed against his lips, your other hand tilted to your ear. “You hear that?”

Eddie strains to hear distant cheers and hip hip hoorays from the festivities a few corridors away; when he nods, you whisper, “That’s the cake cutting. We have a good ten minutes before anyone thinks to come back here.”

At first, Eddie thinks he’s off the hook when you release him completely, walking swiftly towards the main sanctuary. But then, because you’re a temptress, you beckon him with an impatient wave.

And because he’s so easy for you, he follows.

It’s like that window has a magnetic pull- you’re back under the prismatic glow of the stained glass, brushing a hand across the wide sill to dust it before hopping up to perch there. You fit neatly between the split row of votive candles (all snuffed out by now), enough room for your knees to part and for Eddie to fill the space. 

You cross your arms around his neck, drawing him in with another deep kiss as his hands find your waist.

“Want you to mark me up,” you murmur, and when Eddie draws back, wary, you let your chin tip up. The crown of your head knocks into the window, exposing your throat. “Show them I’m yours, Eds.”

Only have to tell him twice, apparently, ‘cuz his teeth sink into your stretch of soft skin without further qualms. The feeling of his tongue soothing over the sore spot makes you jump, hips bucking forward into his hand that you didn’t even notice had trailed up the inside of your dress.

His long fingers pet at the wet patch that’s seeping through your underwear, catching at your clit on an upstroke, your gasp a harsh noise in the otherwise silent sanctuary.

Eddie begins to rub at you through the fabric in earnest now, tight circles with his thumb even as he pulls his mouth from your neck to assess his handiwork. “Yeah, fuck, sweetheart, that’s gonna leave a mark. You want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?”

Your bundle of nerves throbs under Eddie’s touch and you curse, hands weaving tight into his hair again. “Shit, Eddie, yeah- just like that…”

He dips back into the well of your neck with his teeth, keeps just the right amount of pressure on your clit, and that tension coiling in your lower stomach is just about to snap before you stop him with a hand around his wrist.

“Sorry,” you pant through the apology, forehead crushed to Eddie’s collarbone as you try and catch your breath. “Was about to come and I want you inside of me for that.”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

Eddie fumbles with his belt buckles as you giggle, chastising- “Hush and mind your manners, Munson. That’s blaspheming and we’re about to fuck in a church.”

“I’ll show you manners.” Eddie has his pants and briefs shoved to mid-thigh before you can draw breath to tell him off; one hand smears precum down the shaft of his ruddy cock as the other pushes your dress up and hooks your panties to the side. 

You’re wet and worked up enough that he slides into the heat of you with ease, breath punching out with the way his cock completely fills you. When Eddie pulls out and sinks back in, you let out a keening whine and scrabble for purchase on his leather jacket. 

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it-” his voice is a dark rumble, each word punctuated with a snap of his hips, the squelch of your slick walls responding. “So wet for me. That’s my good girl. You like gettin’ off to being mine, huh, angel?”

You nod, head lolling against the window, and Eddie grins wicked even though you can’t see it. “Come on. Show me whose pussy this is.”

When his hand snakes between your bodies to press against your clit with his thumb, you come with a long, strained whimper, ankles crossing at the small of Eddie’s back to draw him closer while the velvet walls of your cunt spasm. 

Eddie’s free hand shoots out to the supporting wood arch of the window for stability as he angles his hips up, longing for that glossy honey-eyed look you get sometimes: and there it is, your eyes half-lidded and brow pinched in pleasure as his cock hits against that gummy spot, the tremble of your thighs locked around his waist as your orgasm peaks. 

Once he’s fucked you through the height of it, Eddie dips to bite at the taut muscle where your neck and shoulder meet, clamping down on the words threatening to flood out as his hips stutter. He comes hard, deep groan muffled into your neck, curses and praises spilling out in mindless babbling: “Fuck fuck, angel, that’s it, honey, shit, you’re so wet. All for me, huh, baby? Doin’ so good…”

He sags into your arms, pinning you to the window, chests heaving in tandem as you both catch your breath. You stroke a hand down his back, towards his ass, and then to the edge of his pants.

When he realizes that you’re trying to tuck him back into his clothes he whines at you, but you’re quick to shush him. “We’re cuttin’ it close with timing already, Eds. Help me out?”

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls away from the wet warmth of you to re-dress. Once his belt is in place he attends to you, helping shift the hem of your dress back down, rubbing his finger lightly under the skin of your eye where some mascara had smudged.

“I’ll double back for the keys and we’ll go home, ‘kay?” Eddie says, nose nudging into your cheek. “Wait here. You got some wicked marks and everyone will know we just fucked.”

“Pfft. No they won’t. Who would actually fuck in a church?” You push Eddie back playfully, hopping down from the sill with a wink. “You’ve gotta be sick to do that. Good thing my family believes you to be a perfect goody-two-shoes.”

Eddie stares as you make for the doors back to the courtyard, shrugging off his incredulity- “Eddie. It’s fine. So they’ll think we made out a bit. Who cares? Not me. And plus…” here you trail off and point, mischievous, Eddie’s eye’s following the line to his sock feet- “...you kinda have a no-shoes situation goin’ on. Gotta fix that.”

When you disappear through the doors, Eddie slams a palm to his chest, in awe- then feels the outline of the lighter in his inner pocket. With a practiced twist, he has it out and lit in a second, holding the flame to the wick of a votive candle.

“I don’t know how these candles work, exactly, or if atheists are allowed to…” Eddie clears his throat, glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re still out of earshot, then whispers above the flickering light: “Please let this be real life and not just some high-fueled fantasy because this is kind of huge for me. Okay thanks. Amen, or whatever.”

Eddie blows out the candle like it’s a birthday wish then hurries to catch up with you, sock feet silent against the wood floor as he calls out your name- “Slow down and have a heart, babe, I’ve got no grip!”

[babiesdreams]

Hey, how r u? It's been so long since we talked last time. If you don't mind can I request rough sex with jaemin?❤❤

Baby you know I whenever I come here and write I instantly feel better, and to write about this man can only make me happier.

Na Jaemin +18 Not the soft kind

Warnings: Facial, deep throat, spanking, leash, degradation, cum swallow, very horny :D.

"Open your mouth" His voice is low and full of an uncontrollable desire. Your lips part slightly allowing his finger to go in. There's a controlled and toughtfull hint in his actions that contrasts with the need visible in his eyes. "I like this pretty mouth of yours" He mutters with a smirk.

A second finger caress your soft lips and enters easily in your mouth. This time his fingertips reach the back of your mouth, reaching your throat. You gag instantly, forcing his fingers to back down a little bit. "Open your throat" He orders although you're unsure of how exactly you're supposed to open your throat.

"I said open it" He repeats with a demanding voice tone. You muffle your words against his fingers, provocking an evil smirk to appear on his lips. "What was that?" Your eyes roll on their own. His reaction is to look away while a smirk creeps on his lips. His fingers get pulled out of your mouth.

"You can't roll your eyes at me" He clears out as if it was an unspoken rule that was somehow always present in between you two. "I did not.." You try to explain but he quickly interrupts you. "And you certainly cannot talk back to me" Your body frozes and you stay silent, unconciously allowing his dominant demeanor to grow.

Jaemin walks a few steps away from you and towards the bed, where he sits down. "Come here" He orders with a rather demanding tone. You raise your right leg to get up. "Don't get up" His loud and firm voice startles you. "Crawl" Although you try hard to find a glimpse of sarcasm in his eyes, all you find is a deep and growing need.

Your hands rerturn to the floor and you begin to crawl in his direction, stopping right at his feet. "Turn around" He demands. Your body follows his instructions before you can even process them. "Butt up"

Your half exposed butt rises in the air. Air that is hit by his hand once he spanks you. It is too sudden for you to even react to it, at least the first time. The second, which follows right away, makes your body tremble and move away from him. "Get back in position" He orders and you slowly obligue. A third hit comes, you try to control your body from moving as best as you can, but by the fifth time it becomes impossible to do so.

"What did you do wrong?" He asks grabbing your body to put it back in position. "Roll my eyes?" You ask unsure. Another spank hits you, snatching a scream from you. "What did you do wrong?" He repeats. "I rolled my eyes" You say loudly. "And?" He asks impatiently. "And..." You try to think about your actions but your mind is nothing but blurry after the hits. Another spank comes your way and this time you let out a loud cry. "And I talked back to you"

"Good girl" He says, now caressing your red and overused butt. "What do you say when you do something wrong?" He asks softly. "Sorry" you reply instantly. His hands get away from your body. "Face me and apologize properly" You follow his instructions and looking into his eyes say "I'm sorry about my attitude"

"That's a good girl" He says with a soft smile, cupping your cheek. "Now what were you saying before? Do you not know how to open your throat?" You shake your head at his question. "Do you want me to teach you?" You nod in response. "Then ask"

"Could you teach me how to open my throat please?" A big smile appears in his lips. "You learn quickly, I like that" His hand caress your cheek and grabs your chin to slightly lift it up. He enters one finger inside your mouth. "Open widely so I can see" You do as he says, pulling your tongue out.

"Okay now, as I go deeper, you need to say ahh without actually talking, just the action" When he reaches the back of your mouth you gesture the ah sound without speaking, it allows his finger to go deeper, reaching the back of your throat. "That's how you do it" He says pulling his fingers out of your mouth.

His hands reach for the leash laying on the bed, attatching it to your collar. Then he stands up and gets his pants off, revealing his grown erection. He lets the leash pass in between his legs. "Open" He simply orders. As soon as his tip touches your lips, he pulls from the leash, forcing his length inside of you.

"Open your throat" He comments when you gag. You do as he asks, allowing his tip to reach the deepest part of your troat. As much as you would like to have a few seconds to get used to the feeling, his rushed thrusts mixed with the pulling of the leash fill you with something that could only be sensed as need. Eventually he stays still, only moving the leash to guide your movements.

After a while also that goes away and you surprise yourself with the actual follow of the previous pace. His eyes are fixed on your face while you keep yours closed, to concentrate on the moves. "Look at me" He orders. You struggle at first to keep the pace and look up. "You look so slutty with my dick in your mouth" He groans.

You can feel the efects of his words on your pussy, making involuntary movements with your hips. "I see you're liking this" He comments putting his foot under your wetness. "You could clean my shoe, that's how fucking horny you are" He chuckles lightly. "Touch your pussy" The order makes you freeze, his dick deep in your mouth.

"What? You can't do both at the same time?" He asks and you shake your head. "Answer properly" You muffle a no against his length. "Okay then, touch your pussy, I'll fuck your throat" You shyly lay your hand over your wetness, slowly rubbing circles around your clit. His hands grab the leash tightly, now keeping a way more rushed pace against your mouth.

You've gotten used to keeping your throat opened and he gets it out every time you need to breathe, but his need and yours slowly sync up, forming a mess of moans and groans in the room. You cum first, moaning loudly against his length. His hands leave th leash and grab your hair, now fucking your whole head to satisfy his needs. He cums shortly after.

"Open your mouth and show me" He orders and you do so. "Now swallow" The taste is slightly bitter and highly addictive, and it warms your throat as it passes through. "Open up" You show him your empty mouth and he quickly fills it with his spit. His fingers enter your mouth to gather his spit and rub it all over your face.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Masterlist ��requests open– How to request?

[dipperscavern]

Ok, just read your blurb about being Jessica’s assistant and being nicknamed baby.

What if the origin of baby was that someone was giving baby shit and someone else (Harvey perhaps) says the classic line “no one puts baby in the corner” when coming to her defense. Then it just kind of spirals from there and no one gives her shit again.

Also feel free to ignore this, literally just my first thought when reading your post!

oh my god. when i tell you i SCREAMED this is so genius & yummy.. PHEW. i know exactly what ur referencing ily & thank u so much for the ask! 🫶🏻

“I’m just saying, the assistant to the Jessica Pearson.. and your desk looks like this?”

you roll your eyes, the hint of a playful expression on your face. while you knew he wasn’t being completely serious, you liked your desk — pink things, trinkets, & personal touches all. you found decorating your desk as a fun way of personal expression, and you were so damn good at your job, jessica didn’t care.

“Would you like to re-decorate for me?”

your reply is dripping sarcasm, a playful tone in your voice that masks how you really feel. you look up at the few bored associates hanging around your desk, and they snicker at your reply.

“Yes I will, thank you. It’s.. something. Could use a more professional look.”

that makes you frown. something? more professional? what started out as a joke seemed more like a personal attack the more it went on. tom, the associate who’s mouth was moving, never seemed to know when to stop. you’re about to say something when a miracle in the flesh steps in your line of sight — harvey specter.

it’s ironic, really. he radiates business when the very reason he came over to your desk was to shoo off the associates bothering you. he looks around to the people that have now stiffened up in his presence, and he gives them an almost confused look.

“And what the hell are you doing?”

tom swallows. “Just- messing around. Sir.”

“What?” harvey looks around. “What’s wrong, you.. don’t like her desk? Is that the nationwide issue we’re facing today?”

you look up at harvey, a faux expression of sympathy on your face. “He doesn’t like the color pink, sir.”

that makes harvey’s brow raise, for two reasons. one, his associates shouldn’t have the time to be complaining about any colors. & two, you’ve been on a first name basis with harvey for a year. he doesn’t mind people calling him sir, but he definitely does mind when it’s you, batting your lashes & giving him a look thats sure to distract him for the rest of the day.

“You shouldn’t have time to worry about the color pink. Time is money, money is time, and if you have time to complain then your workload must not be large enough to satiate your.. innate genius.”

harvey pulls out his cellphone while talking, as if he couldn’t be bothered to give them the time of day — which he really can’t. he’s not really typing anything, but they’ll never know that.

“Don’t be sad she’s not as miserable as the rest of you. Get back to work.”

mumbles of “yes sir” can be heard throughout the office as they move to gather their things & get up, obeying the order given to them with only slight disdain.

“Thanks, Harvey.”

he reaches for the two-pack of oreos on your desk, grabbing one & handing it back to you.

“Nobody puts baby in the corner.”

this makes your brows furrow as you smile, & he bites into his cookie as you reach for yours. he quickly notices the look on your face.

“What?”

“Dirty dancing?”

he gives you a look of his own. “Sir?”

you smile as he walks away, getting back to work of his own. & you fail to notice the associates ears tuned into your small conversation as you bite into your cookie. hey, what’s the worst that could happen?

“Thanks, Baby.”

“Hey, Baby, could you-“

“Where’s Baby?”

“I need this for Baby.”

you stand corrected. jessica pearson herself joins in after a mere day. “Baby, I need you to reschedule that meeting with Mr. Sawyer. Give him my sincerest apologies- I gotta run.”

“Yes ma’am.”

she quickly gathers her things & leaves, in a rush to complete her full schedule. once she’s gone, you put your head in your hands, sighing. your official nickname is baby.

and you like it.

[redzie02]

okay so I have an idea for an angsty Hongjoong fic. (poorly written) feel free to use this and if u do, tag me!! So I can support and reblog and give u a lil kiss on the forehead<3 add smut to it or not idc as long as he’s on his knees and begging for forgiveness,,, i was half asleep when I wrote this btw masterlist

Hear me out. For the past month, Hongjoong has been drowning himself in work. Work seems to be the only thing he cares about, he’s rarely ever home. And he definitely hasn’t made any time for you:(. It doesn’t help that you’ve maybe had the worst month of your life and no one to talk to about it. Your mental health has been spiraling and it’s only gotten worse since Hongjoong’s lack of attention in the relationship.

I guess one day you’ve finally had enough and blow up on him or decide to give him the silent treatment all day. I mean, it works, Hongjoong FINALLY notices something might be wrong after 3 whole weeks.

When you guys get home after dinner with the group, he asks, “what’s wrong?” You don’t reply, completely ignoring him and heading straight to the bathroom to shower. He follows you, a little frustrated and confused, and he watches as you undress and step into the shower acting as if he wasn’t there.

Hongjoong watches in silence, dread and anxiety growing in him. While scrubbing your body, you don’t realize Hongjoong undressed, preparing to get into the shower with you. He was determined to get you to talk.

The sound of the shower door sliding open startles you a bit but you roll your eyes when you see Hongjoong step in. You’re tired. You’ve been tired for weeks so your voice comes out monotonous and low, “Please get out, Hongjoong. I don’t want to yell at you.” Your back facing him.

You take a few more deep breaths, his hands still on your shoulders. He tilts his head to get a better look at your face. Your eyes are closed, squeezed shut actually. He tilts your head up with his fingers, this is the most intimate you guys have been in a while, you realize. The realization only makes your stomach hurt. “Please, please talk to me.”

You’re defiant, you don’t look in his eyes. If this wasn’t as serious as it was, he’d say you were acting like a brat and fix your brattish ways.

You slowly open your eyes, looking at his face but not exactly making eye contact. “You haven’t done anything, Hongjoong. That’s the problem.” He really is an idiot because his brows furrow like he has no clue what you’re talking about. You let out a frustrated sigh and continue. “When was the last time we were this close, hm? Or had an actual conversation? You’re never home and I never know what you’re doing.”

“I-“

“Do you know how embarrassing it is to pretend I know about whatever is going on with you when Seonghwa or San talk about it? To find out about your upcoming projects from your friends, but not you? How is it that I hear more from them than the actual person I live with? Hm? Do you even know what’s been going on in my life? No, you haven’t even cared to ask, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong stood with his lips parted, processing everything. Guilt clawed at him because he knew you were right. He’d been ignoring the love of his life because he prioritized his career over you. Something he never thought he’d do. He’d been ignoring his own health as well, meals left unfinished and surviving on just a few hours of sleep a night. He had lost weight, the bags under his eyes were darker than ever, not that he noticed.

Of course you worried about him, that’s all you ever do, but he never stuck around long enough to address your concerns.

He blinked, putting a hand on your cheek. “I-baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize-“

“No, I’m not accepting your apology until you actually show me. I don’t just want words.” He nods and opens his mouth to speak, but you interrupt him, wanting to get everything out in the open in fear of not getting the chance to do so in the future. You sigh. “I-I feel like I haven’t been myself lately and I wish I had you here to talk to. You always make me feel better but I don’t know…I don’t know if something’s changed or if it’s me…if you want something or someone else-“

“No, no y/n. I’m sorry- about everything. I’ve been so wrapped up in work that I haven’t been taking care of you the way I should. I’m sorry that I made you feel as if I didn’t want you. I promise, I love you with everything that I am and everything that I have. I know it’s my fault and I hate that I made you feel anything less than loved. Things will change- I will be better and I swear on it, okay?”

You nod. “You haven’t been taking care of yourself either, Joong.”

And um I guess you wash each other up, taking your time, then head back to the bedroom. You lay down and stare at each other, caressing each other. You guys catch up. Hongjoong tells you every little detail about stuff he’s been working on and you tell him about all the stress from work you’ve been through and your deteriorating mental health :). Of course he shows you with his actions just how sorry he is- in more ways than one. Maybe this is where one would insert smut.

But yeah, this post is rough, if anyone would like to use this as inspo or expand on it and make it better, feel free to and tag me ;)!!

[suengmi]

can you do where boyfriend! skz are teasing w reader but say a joke that hurts their feelings and they realize and immediately apologize and make it up to you (fluff)

hi anon!! ty for being my first ask, im excited to write! not sure if you wanted full stories/drabbles but i hope you like what i did! <3 also i'm a bit unwell and drained from work so pls be kind. took so long because i ended up writing a lot for some.... like a lot OOPS i trailed off a bit to make it more realistic but asjsdkkjasd anyways im sorry if it's not exactly what u wanted ;_; i did my best, plus i didn't want to make it all the same i guess? but yeah about .6k for each member!

warnings will be written below member names!! all under the cut~

warnings for all: not completely proof read but wanted to answer this prompt asap!! i'm half asleep it's 3am pls also all gender neutral!

┋bang chan ┋

context: grocery store is never fun, especially when your boyfriend doesn't know how hard it can be for you. new!relationship, domestic bliss grocery shopping for a night in

warnings: slight ableism??? before he knows??? idk, chan a bit spicy with his words so not complete fluff my b, some cussing, not the fluffiest pls im sorry idk what HAPPENED

word count: .6k

chan grunts at you, eyes rolling, "i told you it's the wrong one you dumb dumb. "

you look down at the japanese curry powder, trying to make sense of the words written before you. you haven't been with chan for long, but he's treated you better than anyone you've ever met. he's kind, giving and always knows how to make you feel better. he knows that you're happier when it rains, he knows that you get angry whenever you lose a game, he loves that you always defeat him at uno and enjoys how you make a week long parade about it. he already loves you but definitely doesn't know it yet.

there is one thing you're still trying to gauge about chan is how sometimes he can shoot first and ask questions later, and this is one of those moments.

chan frowns, pointing at the curry packet in your hand. "this is the spicy one."

"i'm sorry." you say in a low tone, still trying to read the packet but the font is harder to read, "they look the same."

chan snatches the packet from your hand, placing it back next to the seemingly same ones. "well maybe if you read it you properly for once. i had the runs for like 2 days last time. you know me and spicy no agree."

"i can't.... sometimes."

chan turns to you. "huh?"

you take in a deep breath and speak fast, "i have dyslexia."

"what?" he questions confused.

it's then when the penny drops after a moment of silence. realization a wave over him, all the times he told you to read properly, how many times he made tut noises at your replies not having complete context and how he would grunt when you didn't comprehend something.

"why didn't you tell me? there's nothing wrong with that...?" he prods, gaze gentle towards you.

you fumble with your hands, picking at the skin at the sides of your thumb, your mind trying to find what to say. "i dunno."

he sounds so apologetic when he eventually speaks, he wonders how he could have been stupid. it makes sense. all the times you've told him about your ex and how he called you stupid and dumb for not reading well, making fun of you and saying you just don't pay attention. "i made fun of you so much... wow i'm a dick-

"no it's okay" you interrupt him, a small smile on your lips not wanting him to be hurt.

chan purses his lips while taking your hands in his. he looks at your eyes, his own intense and apologetic. "no- it's not okay, i make fun of you so much for thinking you just didn't pay attention, shit, i'm sorry. i joke all the time about how your brain is always else where."

and with that chan knows that he definitely could have picked up the pieces earlier, that you said it to him, without words. "i'm just... fuck i'm sorry."

"i just you know with my ex they-"

chan pulls you in for a tight hug, as if hushing the words you were about to spill, your glasses pushed against your eyes but you don't mind. he smells like fresh baby powder, his own scent you love mixing in with the clothes he's wearing. you know chan's going to make up for it and that he'll do everything to make you feel better. because you love him too, you just don't know it yet either.

﹋﹋﹋

┋changbin ┋

context: changbin loves working out and you love watching him, even if you don't think he doesn't know. freshly known feelings, uni!au, living together in dorm (i know you said !boyfriend but this was too good not to write hehe)

warnings: CHANGBIN SHAMELESSLY FLIRTING ACK, implications of taking a relationship further (physically), voyeur reader lmao

word count: .5k

you turn your gaze over to your friend, housemate or whatever you two had going on was called. you'd never really thought of changbin as someone you'd like, his gentle an soft nature was a contrast to the man currently a few metres away from you. weights in hand and grunts slipping from his mouth. you lean your head back to get a better angle, the veins on his arm revealing themselves. you knew he liked you and you liked him, but neither of you would dare to open that pandoras box. well, not until tonight.

it's a moment later that changbin stops his routine, almost meeting your stare. you raise your brows, attention turning back to the laptop in front of you. what on earth was i doing? you think, pretending to type something into the computer.

"thirsty?" he asks you, pretending he didn't noticed your eyes on him every now and then for the last half hour.

you turn your attention to him "wha?"

he laughs into his chest, stretching out his arms, "you have drool on the side of your mouth."

"i do- i do not!" you say slamming the laptop down, folding your arms on your chest knowing you've been caught.

changbin laughs, sitting down on the couch next to you, "didn't know i owned a dog."

you had no idea he could be this cheeky, making fun of you for simply watching him. after all, you were perving in a sense.

"don't make fun of me! i know i was... watching."

a smile dances on his lips, knowing that you can be sensitive to these things. "i'm sorry." he almost sounds apologetic... almost. "but... it's just too good to catch you out." he says in a slow almost seemingly mocking way.

"stop it." you mumble, facing the other way. "you know i have issues with... bringing this stuff up."

changbin tugs on your ear to gain your attention, feeling bad for making you feel slightly uncomfortable. but hey, you were the one watching. he smiles and says, "i know i know, i'm just teasing. i'm really sorry."

"i know but... please don't, this is hard for me."

"okay okay," he whines, gently lacing his fingers in yours, testing the waters to see if you'd be okay with this affection. "i promise i won't make fun of you, but if you wanna watch feel free to, don't have to be shy about it."

a blush dances across your cheeks and ears, your tummy suddenly feeling a knot of embarrassment grow. "changbiiiin." you groan, planting your face into the couch cushion.

"okay maybe i lied, i'll definitely enjoy making fun of you."

﹋﹋﹋

┋hyunjin ┋

context: you hate feet. hyunjin thinks it's funny. established!relationship, living together

warnings: obvi mentions of feet?? mentions of vomit

word count: .6k

hyunjin knew you hated feet, just how they looked, how they acted and gripped on the damn floor whenever someone would walk bare foot. hyunjin loved walking around the house barefoot, and it sometimes made you feel woozy, just the image of your own feet touching the floor... imagine. you shivered at the thought, sitting down on the couch next to your boyfriend, his feet dangling off the edge of the couch.

you pat your legs, instructing him wordlessly to lay on your lap. he complies without a thought, scooching back and nestling his head into your soft legs. he let's out a gentle "mm" as he settles in. "soft" he coos, rubbing his head a few times before turning his attention back to his switch.

after another episode of your favourite show, hyunjin suddenly brings his feet up, inspecting one of them. "i think i have glass in this one."

"do you need to do that here?" you say in a tone, eyes avoiding the grippers in sight.

"nah can you just check this one?" he says with difficulty, throwing his foot back towards your face. if you weren't so grossed out you'd probably be impressed by his flexibility.

"hyunjin please--" you swat away his foot with your phone, pushing yourself back into the couch.

"nah see in the big toe right here."

"hyunjin! you know i hate feet stop!"

he struggles, folding his body further to get his left foot near you, "babe just look here near the nail."

and that's when you feel a lump in your throat, nearly retching at the sight. the rice dish you had earlier suddenly feeling not so settled.

"oh shit." hyunjin says in a shock turning his attention to you, hearing your strangled noise. "are you okay?"

"no i'm not okay, go away." you say behind your hand.

shit, he knows he did wrong. his seemingly funny joke was definitely taken too far. he feels bad, real bad. he knew you didn't like feet but not this much. it'd never really come into question the time you'd been together, but god he had no idea.

"jeez i'm sorry." he's unsure where to place his hands and fumbles, words not forming correctly.

you sit in silence for a moment before regaining your thoughts. "don't. fucking. do. that."

hyunjin's eyes are pleading, the guilt in his face almost makes you not want to get him back but then realise you can use this to your advantage. you look over at the massage oils on the table and back at him. "i have an idea."

and you know he'll do whatever it takes. he still had glass in his foot, but that wasn't important right now.

------

┋felix ┋

context: felix thinks your tummy is cute, but you're just not used to it.

warnings: mentions of weight, body issues, tight clothing, BUT ITS FLUFF I PROMISEEEE, felix just a silly soft goose

word count: .6k

"come out please." felix begs, head leaning against the door.

you're sitting in the bathroom on the floor, dressed in nothing but your boxer underwear and a tight bed shirt, felix's bed shirt. you can feel the anxiety seeping into your chest, the weight of reality hitting you. you and your boyfriend had been together for only a month, but this was the first night you were staying at his house. it was on a whim, since most of the trains and buses had stopped running. and of course, you had nothing to wear. so there you were, tight shirt and all. you've never been uncomfortable with your body, if anything you love your body. but for some reason the way that felix talked about your stomach irked you. maybe he meant it as a joke? what did he mean? either way you were upset and needed space for a moment.

"please, i didn't mean it like that." felix sighs against the door, "it's soft and i love it."

you cast a sad expression towards the door. still unwavering from your position. why do you have anxiety now about this? all he did was grab your tummy and tell you it's soft like a kitten belly, or how it reminds him of those marshmallows that fold and how much he loves it because it's you, and he loves you.

you hear nothing but the cracking of a knee, felix bending down to put his fingers through the gap of the door underneath. he splays his fingers like a cat trying to get in the bathroom, darting against the tiles.

"lemme in!" he chimes, grunting to get his fingers further in. "i'll get in either way!" he jokes, using both of his hands under door to attack. it makes you laugh. it reminds me of those videos of cats wanting to get into the bathroom, or videos of racoons grabbing food.

"am i close?" he jokes, moving his hands back and forth.

you groan, stifling a laugh as you get up to open the door. "not even." you say, being met with pleading eyes. you look down at him, his hands still pretending to search where the door once was.

but he suddenly swoops you into a hug, hands around your waist, his head pressed into your soft chest, enjoying the smell of his shirt mixing in with your scent.

you relinquish any negative thoughts you have, melting into the hug. "i know you didn't mean it like that but, i think i'm just nervous... because it's you."

he pulls back, arms still wrapped round your waist, probably a bit too tight. "it wasn't a joke, i do love it." his eye are filled with nothing but love and adoration for you, your body an your mind.

"just... choose different words, please... i'm not a roll of marshmallows."

felix pulls back suddenly before gently pressing a swift kiss to your lips. "tastes sweet." he retorts about your statement, ignoring your words before kissing you again.

"i'm-seri-ous." you say between kisses, you feel his his hands digging into your hips.

instead of stopping, he grins, love apparent in his eyes. "my marshmallow."

you roll your eyes, a bit of anxiety still in your throat but knowing he adores marshmallows, you figure it's okay for now.

﹋﹋﹋

┋jisung ┋

context: a park date is cute until you get attacked my a crow, jisung think's it's funny. established!relatonship

warnings: jisung being a weenie, swearing

word count: .5k

the ground collides with your chest, the mud clouding your vision and your new shirt you brought for the date probably ruined. yep, i definitely tripped and yes it was embarrassing. you think, shame in your chest. of all the days, why your one year anniversary?

all you hear is the cackle behind you getting louder, sharp inhales of breath echoing in your ears. jisung has no shame, actively laughing at you stacking it to the ground.

"ahaha! the crow!!" he gurgles still, bending forwards over the picnic blanket, almost choking on his spit.

"jisung!" you yell, getting to your feet, seeing the mess on the front of you. that fucking crow, why did it choose me?

"jisung!" you yell louder, stomping over to the blanket, definitely covered in mud, dripping behind you as you walk.

"i'm sorry babe i'm-" he says between breathes.

you grunt before wiping the mud from your chest, still feeling it covering half of your face. "it's not funny."

"it fucking is."

jisung's laughs come to a halt as he realised you're upset upset, not just whining like you usually do. he notices how your eyes are suddenly pooling with wells. he stands to his feet and gently holds out his hands, "baby-"

"no!" you grumble, pulling your arms away, tears rolling down your cheek. "i just bought this top. now it's ruined." your dejected tone unsettles jisung, instantly feeling bad for making fun of you.

he says nothing, confused on how to react. but he waits patiently, allowing you to let out your feelings. he's always been good at this, always been patient with you.

after a breath you look back at him, red rings dancing around your eyes.

he smirks as he walks over to the mud and plainly sits down in it as if it what he was meant to do all along. you let out a small laugh, your hands wiping the rest of the mud from your face.

"what?" he asks plainly, as if nothing is weird. he grabs a handful of the mud before pressing it to his shirt, and then another handful to his hair, rubbing it in. "what's funny?"

you laugh behind your mud covered hand walking over to him. he smiles up at you like a puppy, knowing that he's succeeded in making you feel better.

and there he is, completely covered in mud, way more than you are and in that moment you fall just a little bit more in love with him. you lean down and press a gentle but muddy kiss onto his lips.

he stares up at you with nothing else to say, just sitting in the mud. you decide to join him, plopping down next to him, hand in hand as you both just sit in silence and completely covered in mud.

with jisung you didn't always needs words, sometimes the things he did for you were enough.

﹋﹋﹋

┋lee know ┋

context: you're getting ready to go out with friends, but your hair has other ideas, established!relationship, living together.

warnings/other: kisses??? idk, cuss words

word count: .5k

"it's not working!" you huff, re-straightening the side of your bangs for the 6th time. minho was confused at first, wondering why you're so upset over something trivial and small from his point of view. but when he looks up from his phone to see you struggling, his left hand still lazily patting one of his cats. he speaks without thinking,

"it's definitely like a pigs tail." he chuckles, looking back at his phone. in his mind, he assumes that he was just making a light hearted joke, thinking it was cute the way you got so upset over something he coined as small. plus, pig tails are very cute if you think about it.

it wasn't until you made a little sob that he noticed how you were actually feeling. you stare in the mirror, realizing it in fact does look like a pigs tail.

"baby-" he let's out a small but gentle sigh, "i was joking,"

"no you weren't. it... does look like a pig tail." you say between a small dejected sob, lips curled down and hands at your side as you avoid the mirror.

"let me help?" he says so gently as he approaches the bathroom door. instead of letting him help, you just melt into his chest immediately, your sobs muffled by his shirt. "i look like shit." you say defeated.

he lets out a light laugh, kissing the top of your head a few times, "you never look like shit, you know... even with your pig tail."

you step back, immediately hitting the tight muscles of his chest with both of your fists, "fuck off i swear." you talk through your teeth, still frustrated but feeling the urge to laugh in your throat.

"there you are," he says pleased at your spice, fighting with you to place a kiss on your temple, your hand starts pushing on his jaw, his lips puckered and ready. "c'mere." he says through your fingers, still pushing his head towards you, his hands gripping at your neck. "let me-- love you."

after a few minutes of roughhouse struggle, you push him back, feeing slightly better. it's in this moment you realize that you in fact do not enjoy asking anyone for help. but you speak, dejected tone apparent. "yeah... please help."

and nothing else is said while he fixes your hair, gently pressing small kisses on your cheeks as he does so. he knows he can sometimes say things without thinking, but he also knows that you sometimes enjoy just as much as he does. it's why you love him and why you two work so well together. after a few minutes he steps back to admire his masterpiece, a triumphant smile on his lips. "hmm," he ponders, "i liked the pig tail better."

"oi, don't start again you little shit" you say as you begin chasing after him, giggles dancing in with his own as he runs down the hall, nearly slipping on the rug. "get back here! you're in for it!"

﹋﹋﹋

┋seungmin┋

context: seungmin needs to shut his mouth sometimes, even if he doesn't know it. established!relationship, living together

warnings: seungmin being a spicy bitch, some playful physical aggression, kissing

word count: .5k

seungmin has you completely pinned under him on the couch as he covers you with kisses, not relinquishing his hold. "how many times do i have to say it?"

you grunt at the fact that he's weirdly strong in these situations, and as much as you struggle against his hold he's just completely powering over you. just the other day you were the one that had to help him open a jar. but thats besides the point. here seungmin is, currently trying to wiggle his way out of the fact that he took a joke too far. you're determined not to let him get away that easy.

you struggle once more against his hold, your legs flailing underneath him but he's just too damn strong.

he lets out a struggled breath, still above you. his hair falling gently from his face, "isn't sorry enough?"

you turn your head to the side, bottom lip pouting. "no."

"baby-"

you tut at him, tone almost darted, "don't baby me! you've lost your rights."

a gentle grin finds itself to dance over seungmin's face, he likes it when you fight back. he likes it when you put him in his place but still give him enough wiggle room to feel in charge.

"okay," he says with raised brows, "you win. i apologise."

you realise this is the perfect opportunity to get him back, for him making that stupid joke about something he knew you were insecure about.

"oh, whats this? kim seungmin, apologising, what was that?" you speak sarcastically. you're still under his hold, but you'll let it slide for now. "sorry i didn't quite catch that after you made me feel like shit for an entire hour. repeat?"

"i... apologise. i took it too far and i'm sorry."

you feel your chest rise, suddenly enjoying the power that seungmin has given to you. it takes a lot for him to admit he's wrong or that he's done wrong, this is just so damn satisfying.

"actually..." he trails off, letting your hands free a second before quickly grabbing the back of your neck. the kiss he planted on you was fast, and before you knew it you were laying back down on the couch, head dizzy from the sudden kiss, "you can't just make me forgive you with kisses." you speak in a semi-daze.

seungmin presses a kiss to your cheek and then a few more to your lips, the taste sweeter everytime. "i can, actually."

yeah, he's absolutely right. wait, what were we arguing about?

﹋﹋﹋

┋jeongin┋

context: jeongin fucked up, and he wants to make it better. fresh!relationship

warnings: none? kissing maybes, TOO MUCH CUTE

word count: .5k

it only took jeongin about half an hour to attempt to make it up to you.

sometimes being with jeongin was hard, as you both communicated in very different ways, it definitely was something you needed to work on. though, the one thing you loved about him is the absolute time and effort he put into making everything just perfect for you. when it came to you, everything he did for you was worth it.

after taking a walk to calm your thoughts, you realized you were still frazzled from the way jeongin teased you and how you ended up crying, resulting in him just left behind in a confused state. sometimes it took a while for the penny to drop with him, but once he got it, he really got it.

you step through the front door of his house, gently removing your sandals to be met with the sound of jeongin jumping up from the couch, hands out in a display. "ta-da!" he yells, it startles you.

you turn to meet eyes with your boyfriend, his face with a stupid grin slapped across it.

"what is-" and that's when you notice the many items splayed across the ground. there's a few towels on the lounge table, a tub of what seems to be hot soapy water, a box of facemasks and some nail polish next to it. the lighting is low and your favourite soundtrack is playing. you notice the scent in the room, jasmine tea, your favourite.

jeongin takes a deep breath in before showcasing his wares. "salon de jeongin"

"babe i-"

he steps forward, taking your hands in his before guiding you to sit down. "cmon" he coaxes gently, his beautiful dark eyes watching your every step. you say nothing as you follow him, unsure of what's happening.

as if he knows you're going to speak, he places a gentle kiss on your forehead. "i'm sorry."

you marvel at the sight in front of you once more. the fact that he built you a whole salon in his living room within thirty minutes is mind blowing. he knows your favourite scent, your favourite songs and all the products you use. you didn't even realize he had those.

you're still at a loss for words, unsure of where to put your hands or body. jeongin just points to the chair, silly grin still plastered on his face and eyes wide.

you sit down in the chair, eyes darting to jeongin. "does it cost extra for shellac on my nails?"

jeongin pouts in thought, "just a kiss."

"i can do that." you say back at him. and that's all it takes, you know you'll talk later about this and how you can communicate better but this... this was enough for now. more than enough.

"actually," jeongin ponders before leaning so damn close to your face, "i think it's about 4 kisses."

-

DAMN THAT WAS SO LONG I SPENT LIKE AGES DOING THIS MY BAD, i know it's not exactly what u said but oh well i wanted to make them all different!!!! ty for asking!!!!!! <3

[beefboyandbabygirl]

this is my first (1st!!) ever request so im sorry if im not clear or if anything is too vague.. </3 just had a thought about virgin!svt member (any one of your choice) x experienced but shy reader?? like they usually tease each other like crazy and reader is kind of cocky and all bratty (basically all talk) but when it comes to actual sex they're unexpectedly crazy shy and the member just 😞😞 cant get enough... im just curious about how you'd write the dynamic :) it can be vice versa as well! feel free to write about whoever comes to mind when you read this!

- anon 🐱❤️

oh my gooood im so honored to be ur first request hihi <3 i hope u like it!!

Show me how

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

pairing: seungkwan x fem!reader

genre: smut, first time, fluffish

warnings: unprotected sex, handjob, mentions of oral, kissing, mentions of making out, veryyyy slight degredation, mentions of restraint, mentions of masturbation

beefboy quotes: "kitten wants seungkwans cock🤧" (im sorry for including this but it made me laugh) "IM WET".

wordcount: 1k

a/n: phew this was a difficult one. im practising writing more detailed smut and do a little less plot lmao. beefboy says its working so im going to trust i did okay haha.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why this is happening right now.” 

What you had told Seungkwan was true. You were fairly experienced when it came to sex. However, experienced didn’t exactly equate to confident, even though you might have given him that idea. And it wasn’t on purpose. It wasn’t like you had tried to fool him, or pretend you were something you weren’t. All the dirty secrets whispered to make him blush, the not-so-accidental brushes of your ass over his crotch or fingers over his chest, were done out of pure love and adoration. You liked to tease him, and he absolutely loved when you teased him. 

You just wanted his first time to be special, and now you were afraid it was all ruined. 

“No, why are you apologizing? You’re doing great.”

He was laid out beneath you, already all sweaty and glowy from the heavy makeout session that had prompted the current situation. A large hand gently came in touch with one of the thighs straddling his torso, silently saying it’s okay, we’re okay. And his pupils were all blown out, and the room was dimly lit and humid. It was beautiful and perfect. He was perfect, and you were ruining it. 

It all felt completely upside down to you. That he was giving the reassuring words and the calming touches when he was supposed to be the nervous one. He didn’t look nervous at all. He sported that confident smile, the inquiring tilt of his head and he was shirtless underneath your bare thighs. 

“I just feel like I've let you down. Like I made you expect all these things for tonight, that I was supposed to be all dominating, and sexy and what not-”

“Babe, you’re literally so fucking sexy.” 

“Oh yeah, suddenly having a mental breakdown in the middle of your boyfriend's first time. So sexy of me.”

Without replying he grabbed you by the hips, giving them a gentle squeeze and locking eyes with you for permission. Your ‘yes’ was barely a whisper. Slowly, he shuffled you further down his body, so you were positioned over his cock. His hard cock. Really hard and also, really big. Not that you were surprised. 

“You feel that?” 

None of you were even moving, not even the slightest, and yet sparks of pleasure were rushing through you. He could probably feel the wetness soaking through your panties and onto the fabric covering his hard dick, but for the first time that night, you didn’t care. You didn’t care that you were nervous, you didn’t feel like you had a single expectation to live up to or promise to fulfill. He was hard, and you had barely done anything, which made you both incredibly relieved and wet. 

“M-mhm…”

When he noticed how your shoulders suddenly dropped and your jaw unclenched, he too felt all his muscles loosen up and a held back sigh escaped him. 

“You did that baby, made me so hard. Because you’re so sexy, and beautiful and hot-”

“Okay okay, I get it.” Your attempt at shutting him up was to lean down for a kiss, but he just continued to ramble and mumble onto your lips, and you realized you shouldn’t keep him waiting much longer. 

“Can I take these off?” You asked, your voice quiet as it spilled onto his lips while your fingers hooked onto the waistband of his boxers. 

“Yes, f-fuck, please.”

Before you could even have the chance though, he was ripping them off himself, so you instead took the opportunity to take your panties off, leaving you both fully naked.

“How- How do you want me?”

His question barely registered with you as his dick entered your line of sight. You had seen each other naked a few times, sure, but only for short moments while changing clothes or walking in on the other showering. Now his dick was so up close you could see every vein, every drop of precum leaking down his shaft, and you hadn’t even noticed you were practically laying on your stomach, crosseyed and nearly drooling at the sight. 

“Don’t look at it like that.” 

His voice snapped you out of your cockdrunk trance and you somehow managed to tear your eyes away from his cock. 

“I’m just admiring it.”

“Yeah, I can tell, but please don’t look at it like that for much longer, or I’ll actually cum untouched.”

You giggled lowly before crawling further up his body again. Your noses were touching and his heavy breaths tickled your lips as your hand dragged over his nipples, down his abs until it reached his cock. 

“That’d be so hot”, you whispered. Your boyfriend let out a breathy whimper in return, one you so badly wanted to hear again, so you wrapped your fingers tightly around his cock, squeezing until he was throbbing so hard you could have been convinced it was his heartbeat going straight into his dick. 

“You like the sound of that? I could touch myself in front of you, have you tied to the bed so you can’t touch me yourself, see how long you’ll last…”

He was already close. Embarrassingly close, but what was he supposed to do? For weeks before you asked him out he would simply think of something gross, like Vernons three week old laundry or the floor in the subway, whenever he accidentally popped a boner around you. But now, that was actually impossible. He couldn’t think, couldn’t see, couldn’t feel anything but you everywhere, in every corner of his mind. 

“Please, I’m so close…” The way your hand alternated between squeezing him at the base and going up and down in a fast motion, was making him dizzy. 

“I know, I know. You’ll get what you want”, your hand let go of his cock, as you resumed your position from a few moments ago, straddling him, but now with no layers of fabric between you. Your pussy radiated actual heat, and occasionally a drop of your wetness would fall onto his abs and trickle down towards his v-line, and if he didn’t get your pussy around him now he would probably faint. 

“Remind me what it is you want again?” 

This wasn’t your usual teasing. Even though your words were bratty as always, they were now laced with something different, something loving. You were smiling adoringly and your eyes were sparkling, and even though you were being so cruel, you were still so doting. 

“I Want…Want your pussy. Need it.”

You rewarded his answer with a quick kiss, before lining your entrance up with his cock and sinking down slowly. Seungkwans facial expression twisted into one of pleasure and he was muttering profanities into the air. 

“Feel okay?”

He felt more than okay. He had never felt better, but if you began to move even a single inch, he would cum, and he didn’t wanna be that guy. 

“Yeah- Yeah I’m fine just, fuck, give me a second…”

“Hm? But I thought this was what you wanted?”

Seungkwan knew you weren’t actually denying his request. You weren’t moving, and you wouldn’t unless he wanted you to. You were testing him. You had a goal, and once you went for something, there was no way Seungkwan could convince you otherwise. 

“I do! I do, I just don’t wanna-”

“But I do.” 

Your hips began to swivel back and forth on top of him. The subtle movement would have been barely noticeable had he not been so sensitive. 

“You can cum Seungkwan, it’s okay. I want it.”

When he didn’t argue further, when he looked at you with pleading eyes, you kept going, escalating the speed of your hips more and more, until your boyfriend was a wonderful mess underneath you, writhing and moaning desperately. 

“Cum for me, Seungkwan.”

Your words were the last tug pulling at the knot in his stomach. He was releasing inside of you, coating your walls in white and tensing every muscle in his body. It was only after the fact he got to see it, his eyes struggling to open from how tight they were shut, and once they landed on his cum dripping down your plush thighs onto his stomach it was as if the high just kept running through him. 

“Should I- Can I try to eat you out? Can you show me how?”

You hadn’t had expectations of cumming tonight. This was about him. That being said, you were hardly surprised that he wanted to return the favor, selfless as always.  

Your mind wandered to just a few moments ago, when you were so worried about ruining this moment. About making him uncomfortable, or doing something wrong, or not living up to his expectations. Now you were realizing that this hadn’t been about expectations at all. It had been about trust. Seungkwan trusted you enough to be his first. To show him how. 

And there was nothing more sexy than being trusted.

[pedrisbanana]

Can u do another Pedri and Gavi threesome please

Just can't resist a golden boy... let alone two of them

Enjoy 🍌

Golden Boys

You stared at the gold shimmering trophies inside the little cabinet. They were exact replicas of each other, one difference being the names engraved. 

Pedri.

Gavi.

It seemed rigged that of all young footballers, Pedri and Gavi had won it. Yes, they were good, but were they really that good.

You could see your reflection in the polished gold. 

"The way you stare, someone might think you'd steal them." Pedri's reflection smiled at you. 

You turned to look at him. "I might, but they're a little massive for my handbag"

Pedri dropped his smile. "Gavi told me you like massive." 

Something shifted in the air. The innuendo not brushing past you. 

"I didn't know Gavi talks to you about me." you smirked. 

"You're all he talks about. You should watch out or I'll might get jealous." the midfielder nudged your side playfully.

„Maybe I should make you jealous, then you could leave it out on the opponent" You teased him. 

„Oh I don't need jealousy for th-„ 

Pedri was called to training. He was 10 minutes late already. 

„You're gonna pay me back the fee" he kissed your cheek and left. 

You looked at the trophies for a couple more minutes before making your way to the small conference room near the locker rooms. 

Gavi skipped training today, because he had a lot of media to stuff to film since he won the Golden Boy. The room was already prepared for a photoshoot. You weren't exactly sure if it was for a magazine or some online publisher, but you didn't care anyway.

The person of the hour stepped into the room and greeted you with a kiss. He licked your lipgloss from his lips, tasting the strawberry. 

"Are you sure this stuff isn't edible ?" he laughed, hand resting on the small of your back. 

Pablo wore a black sweater that made him look incredibly handsome. The material felt soft as you touched his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat. Being so close to him, his scent filled your nose. He smelled clean, like soap and fabric softener. Something you always liked about him, that he didn't use half a bottle of musky perfume. 

He let go of you to greet the staff and talk to the photographer. A man brought the trophy in that you had just stared at 15 minutes ago. 

Oh. You didn't know he was supposed to be photographed with the golden boy statue. Biting your bottom lip, you watched as your boyfriend accept the polished gold football with a big smile. 

The staff left, leaving Gavi, you and the photographer alone in the small conference room.

During the photoshoot, you watched him follow the directions. Moisture was collecting between your legs. He stared at the camera intensely and the smirk he flashed, went straight to your clit. 

You looked at his hands to distract yourself. Pablo's knuckles turned white from the heavy weight of the statue and the veins on the back of his hands seemed to define even more. Yes, you definitely had to change your underwear at home.

"What's got you all blushed, carino ?" Pedri's voice startled you, as he appeared behind you.  

He leaned his chin on your shoulder, a slight stubble tickling your skin. 

"Ew, you're sweaty." you tried to push him off. 

"And you smell like sex" he whispered, raising his thick brow. "I can't believe a simple photoshoot has got you all riled up"

You must be as red as a tomato now. "Umm nooo. Don't be silly." 

Pedri let out a loud laugh, making Gavi and the photographer look over. He apologized and turned back to you. "I was joking, but apparently you weren't." 

"Well and if I am ? He's my boyfriend." you replied with confidence. 

"Well" he stepped closer to you. His warmth trapped you in. "If I recall correctly, you nearly ruined your lipstick at my golden boy ceremony last year, because you couldn't keep from drooling at me with this trophy." he paused, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. "So, amor, I don't think sweet Pablo is your problem." 

You stared at him breathlessly, eyes fixated on his. 

"We're done! Good job, Gavi, these will look amazing." the photographer pulled you from Pedri's gaze. 

Smiling at Gavi, you embraced him in a big hug, leaving Pedri behind. Your boyfriend set the trophy down on the table next to the door, where his best friend was standing.

"Don't you have training ?" he asked.

"Coach let us off early today, so I decided to pay our shooting star a little visit." Pedri replied, looking between his friend and you. 

The photography put his camera away. "I'll go take a break. See you in 30." 

The door shut with a click that had a shiver running down your spine. Being alone with both Gavi and Pedri somehow always had you a little bit nervous. You didn't know why. It was ridiculous.

"So what were you two whispering about ? Any secrets I should know about ?" Gavi laughed. 

You were about to deny, but Pedri cut in. "We were talking about how turned on your girlfriend gets when she sees one of us holding that trophy. I was about to tell her to be quiet if you guys decide to sort it out here." 

You blinked at Pedri. Yes, you guys were joking once in a while, but he never did it in front of his best friend. 

The younger one put his hand on your cheek, thumb softly caressing the soft skin. It was a sweet gesture, affectionate even, unlike the words that came out of his mouth simultaneously.

"Maybe she needs your helping being quiet. She never seems to be able to keep it down when she has my cock up her greedy pussy." 

There was it again. The uncomfortable feeling in between your legs. A small knot formed in the pit of your stomach as you stared into Pablo's innocent, almost pleading eyes. 

Your knees felt wobbly, but strong hands held onto your waist, teasing the small gap of skin between your skirt and your tanktop. You couldn't think or speak, mind being cloudy from the new sensations of Pedri's lips on your neck and Gavi's passionate kiss on your lips.

Skilled fingers made your skirt fall to the floor and slipped into your panties. Your hips ground back, feeling a hard erection. You moaned into your boyfriends mouth. Pedri slipped a finger inside you and tested your patience.

Pablo pulled back and looked at you. Leaning against the wall he unbuttoned his pants, watching his best friend slip his finger in and out of you slowly. His dick was swollen and precum leaked from the tip. 

Usually he made you lick it up.

"We have to be quick, Pablito." Pedri groaned into your neck. His skin was sticky from the sweat, but you couldn't care less with now two of his fingers fucking in and out of you. 

"Won't be a problem with her." he reassured his friend. 

With his pants at his ankles, Gavi bent down to rip your panties off, mumbling a 'don't need these' against your lower stomach. 

You held onto his arms, feeling your orgasm coming up. 

"I'm close, Pepi. Please." you moaned, fingers fisting the black sweater. 

"Didn't you want to make her shut up and be quiet ?" Gavi cocked his brow. 

Pedri laughed. "Oh I will." 

Just as you turned around, legs shaky from your denied release, you saw Pedri lick your arousal from his knuckles. Your boyfriend smacked your ass and made you bend over, holding your hips against his naked groin. 

Pedri's cock slapped your face as he removed his gym shorts. Before you could protest, he already slipped the tip between your lips, swollen from the kiss. Your hands immediately reached for his thighs, but he pushed them away. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, making you look up at him.

"Mmmh it's a little disrespectful to touch another man, when your boyfriend is so gracious to fuck you after lusting after him at his job, don't you think, hermosa ?" 

You tried to nod and held onto the table next to you. Meanwhile Gavi dragged the tip teasingly slow up and down your slit, spreading the wetness. 

You pushed your ass back, trying to create more needed friction. The shorter midfielder, painfully grasped your hips, holding them in place. 

"Aren't you a needy little thing ? Mi vida, Pedri prepared you nicely and he's even helping you shut your dirty mouth. Show that you're grateful."

Gavi's rough thrust, filled you all the way up, making you moan. Pedri slid himself further down your throat, muffling the noises coming from you. 

Your boyfriend set a pace he knew you enjoyed, massaging your hipbones with the pads of his fingers. Pedri groaned your name as you gagged on his cock, spit running from the corners of your mouth. 

This seemed to turn him on, because the pull on your hair tightened, making your scalp burn and your pussy clench around Gavi. Pedri joined Gavi's thrusts, making it hard to catch your breath and sanity.

"You take us so well, amor." Pablo breathed down your spine, leaving small bites and kisses through the fabric of your tanktop.

One of Pedri's hands moved from your hair to your face. He grabbed your jaw with slow massaging movements. He knew his size was making you sore. His thumb wiped away a tear. 

"I bet you're close, the way you clench me, like you never want to let me go" Gavi finally massaged your neglected clit. You were throbbing already, his ministrations almost painful. 

The way you kept moaning and sighing around Pedri made him throw his head back. He wasn't going to last long anymore. 

His seed filled up your mouth when you came with him. Your needy sucks throwing him over the edge. Gavi fucked you through it, enjoying the way you massaged him with your pussy. 

You sucked Pedri clean, swallowing what didn't drip from your lips. Releasing him from your mouth you let your tongue flick out to tease his shaft. With swollen lips you started sucking on his heavy balls, leaving small kisses. 

Pablo's thrust became unsteady. His breath uneasy as he scolded you. "I thought I told you to be a little more grateful." 

Making eye contact with his best friend, you catched your breath. Voice raspy and jaw sore you said: "Thank you, Pepi" 

Said friend reached down to wipe your mouth with his thumb, pushing it past your lips so you could clean it up. "It was my pleasure, munieca" 

Gavi buried his fingers into your hips again when he came. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of him pumping his seed deep inside. 

An empty feeling, almost cold, spread through your body when he pulled out. Standing straight, your stretched and held onto the table to get steady and your mind clear,

You caught your reflection in the polished golden football of Gavi's golden boy trophy. Your hair was a mess and your eyes glossy. It had you blushing, so you focused on the engraving. 

Absolute Best.

Oh yeah. Gavi and Pedri truly deserved this title.

A/N: Last time you were Pedri’s girl, so now you’re Gavi’s. Didn’t matter for your climax anyway.

Leave me some love pls 🥺

[abbys-wifey]

disgraceful…

request linked here

pairing: max fox x female reader

warnings: homophobia, Maxs dad (a warning in itself)

a/n: i changed the request slightly, i hope that’s ok. my apologies if u don’t like it :)

Hot.

That’s all I can think as Maxs hands roam my waist keeping me situated on her lap, her lips pressed passionately onto my own as my hands run through her hair. Pulling back to breathe I smile brightly at seeing Maxs doe eyes staring up at me. “Your so hot baby.” I sigh leaning down to kiss her cheek softly.

Max’s cheeks flush red. Her lips are swollen slightly and her eyelids are slightly heavy. “Shut up.” She whispers moving one hand up to my face to tilt my head back so her lips can attach to my neck.

“Oh yes-“

“MAX.”

The two of us are fast to leap away from one another, one of my hands moving to cover the hickey Max had definitely just given me and the other attends to my ruffled hair and clothes.

After taking care of the mess I am I look up to the doorway to see Sam (Maxs mum) and a man I hadn’t seen before standing slightly aghast.

“Dad?” Max frowns. I glance over to my girlfriend to see her jaw clench in annoyance as he waves sheepishly. “Xanders staying for dinner apparently so hurry your asses down here.” Sam grins, her right eye twitching ever so slightly.

“Right be down in a sec.” Max replies shoving both her parents out her room and closing the door behind her.

As the door closes Max glances at me, her face one of pure irritation. “Are you fucking with me? He comes over today? On our anniversary and has the audacity to stay for fucking dinner.” She begins pacing the room, hands tugging at her hair.

“Hey Max. Baby. Calm down.” I immediately pause her pacing as I stand before her grasping at her wrists. “I know it’s annoying but once we have dinner we can come back up to your room and watch movies and lay together ok? Just get through dinner.” I lean in and kiss her forehead allowing her to inhale deeply and nod.

“Let’s get this over with.”

Heading down the stairs, nausea washes over me at the thought of Max’s father waiting for our entrance. Even though I know he won’t be around often I can’t help but want him to like me, for Max’s sake.

“Took you long enough.” Frankie’s quick to remark with a roll of their eyes as Max and I take our seats beside one another at the table. “Shut up.” Max retorts causing Sam to glare at both of them.

An awkward silence encompasses the table as everyone not so subtly glances at the girls father who seems blissfully unaware of the tension he is causing.

“So are you two best friends?” Xander asks gesturing between myself and Max with his fork, his eyebrows twitching slightly. “No. This is my girlfriend, Y/N.” Max replies rather harshly causing my hand to reach for her own under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Ah.” Max’s father remains silent, tearing his eyes from the two of us and over to Duke.

As he attempts a conversation with the youngest sister I glance over at Max to find her stabbing at her food. “Did the food do something to you?” I smirk towards the curly haired girl who sends me a glare. “Shut up.” She replies sulkily, her curls falling in front of her face. I sigh softly knowing she doesn’t mean what she’s saying.

“Baby, it’s going well.” I whisper reaching over to tuck her hair behind her ears. The action causes Max’s lips to curve up slightly as she tilts her head at me, mouth open to reply.

“Let’s not do that at the dinner table.” Xanders voice is laced with disgust as he grips his fork rather harshly. “Do what exactly?” Sam asks with a condescending tilt of her head.

“You know what I mean.” He grimaces gesturing circles around Max and I. “And what do you mean exactly?” I ask with faux confusion, not willing to let him ruin Max and I’s anniversary because he can’t handle lesbians. “Spit it out.” Max snaps, her eyes narrowed as she glares at her dad.

“It’s not natural ok? Is that what you want to hear?” Xander scoffs slamming his fist against the table, the cluttering of cutlery causing both Duke and Frankie to flinch. I can feel the tightness of my jaw as I eyeball him, his hands shaking with what could be rage or anxiety or both.

Tension fills the air, so thick I feel like I’m choking. Everyone’s eyes remain on Xander as he remains unashamed, his own eyes staring daggers into Max’s.

“Get the fuck out.” Sam abruptly stands up from her seat and points to the door. “It’s one thing to not see your daughters ever, but to come into our house and discriminate against them.” She let’s out a breath before inhaling again. “Get the fuck out before I drag you myself.” She seethes, her veins in her hands popping so hard I fear they may explode.

Xander hesitantly rises to his feet, his eyes falling to the floor as shame runs through him. My hand reaches for Max’s, squeezing it gently as tears flow down her cheeks.

Xanders shame turns back to fury at our interaction, his shoulders squaring at the two of us. “Disgraceful.” He spits at Max, who inhales deeply and looks away from the man. “You heard Sam.” I manage to say, a frown forming on my brow as his sour expression turns to me. “Don’t speak to me you-you fag.” He snaps before turning on his heel and heading towards the front door, slamming it loudly on his way out.

Maxs facade finally breaks, her shoulder crumbling as she sobs heavily. Sam pouts rushing over to hug her daughter, Frankie and Duke not far behind, a few stray tears falling down their cheeks.

“Hes not welcome back here.” Sam whispers pressing a kiss to Max’s head before glancing over at me. “Are you ok sweetie?” She asks reaching over Max to extend a hand to stroke my hair and cup my cheek. I nod, jaw clenched. “I’ve had worse said to me.”

Sam chuckles lightly before pulling away from Max. “Come on girls, give them some space.” Frankie and Duke pull away and leave the kitchen but not before giving me one last hug.

“Look after her.” Frankie frowns glancing at Max who sniffles slightly. “Of course.” I smile letting Frankie go and moving my chair closer to Max as it becomes only the two of us.

“I’m here Max. I’m not going anywhere.” I whisper leaning forwards to pull her into my chest. Maxs arms wrap tightly around my waist, her head burying itself in my neck. “He hated me. That look on his face.” She shudders in my hold and continues to sob.

I bite my lip trying to ward off my own tears. Pressing my lips against her hair I shake my head. “He doesn’t hate you baby, he will need time to process and if he can’t then your better off without him.”

Max pulls her head out of my neck so she can look me in the eyes. “I adore you.” She whispers giving me a teary smile. My hands reach up to cup her cheeks, wiping the stray tears as I return her smile. “I adore you too.” I reply leaning forwards to place a kiss on her nose. “You don’t deserve the cruelness the word can bring.” I sigh gently tracing patterns along her jaw with my thumb.

Maxs lower lip trembles and juts out slightly, a tell tale sign she was about to cry again. “I love you baby.” I whisper pressing my lips to hers in an attempt to kiss her pout away.

It works as I feel her smile against my lips. Breaking our kiss she pulls away again to place her hands in mine.

“I love you too.”

[reveurdoll]

Write bentley x percy (if u write for pjo)

👿👿👿👿👿😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

thank u anon for requesting <3 (i know exactly who this is😭)

sorry it's so short!!

SO PRETTY |

percy jackson x fem!reader

summary: y/n and percy spend a quiet day together, enjoying one another's presence

warnings: so!much!fluff!, child of aphrodite!reader, their lives arent in danger for a change, they have cellphones, established relationship.

YOU HUM to yourself quietly as you spritz your perfume onto your neck. smiling at yourself in the mirror, you turn to your sibling, drew.

"well? how do i look?"

she looks you over, before replying, "eh.."

you aren't sure what you'd expected from her, you're well aware of drew's tendency to be a little, well, bitchy.

you stick your tongue out at her and leave your cabin. you start walking, greeting various friends and campmates on your way.

your smile grows as you approach percy's cabin. when you reach his door you walk in, not bothering to knock as he knows you're coming, having texted you asking if you wanted to come over.

you giggle as you realize that percy is yet to notice your arrival. he's sitting in his spinny chair, facing away from the door but you can see that he has his airpods in and is pretending to play the guitar. cute.

you're about to tap him on the shoulder when he suddenly spins round to continue with his theatrical air-guitar playing.

he jumps and lets out a yelp, making you giggle at him.

he pauses his music and takes his airpods out, "you scared the shit out of me, holy hera,"

sitting down on his bed, you put your hands up, "my bad, my bad, i'm sorry."

you don't bother to make your apology convincing, your smile still present on your face.

he squints his eyes at you in faux suspicion, "something tells me your apology isn't very sincere," he scoots closer to you, still sitting in his chair, trying to hold back his grin.

"that might be because it's not."

he gasps, faining hurt.

"you're lucky you're cute, l/n" he says, pointing his finger in your face.

you laugh, "are you flirting with me, jackson?"

"perhaps."

"well, consider me flattered."

a light blush coats his cheeks, which you find terribly endearing. he leans forward and kisses your nose.

you look at him, a small grin on your face. "you're pretty," you say to him, voice just above a whisper.

he smiles softly at you, "well, aren't you a charmer?"

you roll your eyes playfully, before moving to lay comfortably on his bed.

you lift your arm, "c'mere."

he stands from his chair, before throwing himself onto his bed.

you shuffle, so that you're both facing eachother and a smile washes over his features. how is it possible for someone to be so pretty?

your faces are about an inch apart. you glance down from his eyes to his lips before leaning in and kissing him.

the kiss is soft, sweet.

you pull away and he looks at you, in awe.

"how the fuck did u get so lucky?" he asks, making you chuckle softly.

he brings his hand up to cup your cheek, and you lean into his touch.

"you're so pretty, angel."

you feel your heart melt at his words and you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck.

the two of you lie there, silently, just enjoying eachothers company.

you place soft, chaste kisses on his neck as the two of you drift off.

[kamiversee]

What happened D: u can vent to us if you want/are comfortable. We are here for you 🫂 ❤️

Answering this bc a few were curious abt my breakup & I just never really replied to a lot of my asks because I was feeling down but I’ll explain in this post & this post only :3

Basically… he’s gay.

Guys I wish I was joking but I’m so serious 😭

When the guy I was dating broke things off with me, he said he wasn’t too sure of his sexuality anymore & didn’t wanna string me along any further (despite already doing so?) so he ended things there.

At first, I really didn’t care too much that the relationship ended because I thought he and I could remain as friends & be fine but the next day, my heart just started to feel heavy & I felt like shit for so many reasons…

I couldn’t sleep properly, I barely ate, & I couldn’t even bring myself to write. I believe I felt this way because the relationship ended so fucking abruptly & there was nothing I could do about it. We only dated for a month or so but I had finally allowed myself to like someone & feel for someone genuinely for the first time in a while.

& to make it worse, the day before he broke up w me, he & I literally talked about how I had this bad feeling and was feeling anxious abt our relationship. At the time, he reassured me & said we’d work through anything together but then there he was 24hrs later telling me he’s not sexually or romantically attracted to women anymore— something we can’t exactly work through at all…

As such, I was in a bit of a slump since then but thanks to my friends & some time to myself, I’ve been able to move on from it. I’m still recovering from it in a way, though. Like, my trust issues are gonna be issuing after tht iykwim 💀

Either way, I feel back to myself as of rn & I have him blocked for reasons beyond just our breakup (He’s also an inconsiderate asshole & a weirdo of a person so uh, yeah!).

Anyyyywho, I’m doing just fine now so ty guys for any & all concern! I appreciate it dearly ^.^

Apologies for yapping

[vasito-de-leche]

would it be ok to request a fmn x reader type thing that goes into realizing he’s actually fallen for said reader ? (They can either be human or arcanist whichever interests u more!!),asking cause I saw that post u brought up and now im really curious is all I know your Getting a lot of asks for fmn so I apologize ehhf

;R1999 FORGET ME NOT - "fallen"

Forget Me Not x Reader. 600~ words. angst

all good, nonnie! I don't mind if someone decides to send 10 asks in a row with prompts for the same character lmfao, more power to you lolol

you didn't specify if you wanted headcanons or a fic, so I ended up writing a lil ficlet of the EXACT moment Forget Me Not realizes, which also doubles as the moment he confesses because this man is. a mess.

I also wanted to recapture the vibe from this other FMN fic tofocus on that FMN POV and how hes just. so fucking delusional and how none of the shit he thinks matches the things he does. his body and mind live entirely different realities and i think thats awesome of him

Forget Me Not realizes he's fallen for you the moment he's about to lose you.

Your fist collides against his chest in a weak attempt to push him away - even now, you don't hurt him as much as you should've. In this situation, you have every right to tear him to shreds. To rip him out of your life and throw him far, far away, left to rot.

But you could never do that to him. And that's what hurts him the most.

Because he's done so much worse to you.

This is the last argument you two will ever have, this is the one time he went too far - he's sure of it. Forget Me Not knows this, he's been preparing for this outcome for so long, he knows exactly how it will happen.

At some point, you're going to walk out of that door and never come back. This current expression of yours, the one that makes the knot in his throat tighten and tighten until he wishes he could swallow his own tongue and die on the spot, is the last image he will have of your face. Forget Me Not will think of you each and every night, every single hour of the day, until his memories of you become a poor, deluded simulacrum of what you two could've had or until he drinks himself into oblivion.

He will resent you for leaving and he will hate himself tenfold for allowing this to happen. He will be glad that you're gone, off to greener pastures, and then beg to any God out there for you to come back to him. All of this while he carries on about his day, unyielding and unmoving in his grief. An esteemed member of Manus Vindictae.

This is the day all of his paranoia is justified, but the one thing that throws him off is the suddenness of it all - Forget Me Not, despite constantly dreaming about the day you finally leave him, never expected this to happen so soon. Not on the day his heart finally allows him to admit he's fond of you.

The irony isn't lost on him, he finds it quite hilarious, truth be told.

You yell something he cannot register at him, your open palm pushing him further and further away. Limp and weak, Forget Me Not allows this, his back now resting against the window of his office. Through foggy glasses, he keeps his gaze on the floor hoping that you'll finally run out of things to say - but then, your face comes into view.

It's hard to see you in such a dazed state, and yet Forget Me Not recognizes this mess of blurry colors and shapes as the former love of his life. The sunlight coming from outside surrounds you in an angelical glow, you remain holy even when your fingers dig into his shoulders.

It doesn't hurt, though. He wishes it did. Forget Me Not does not deserve your love, but he will gladly accept your anger and hatred. Why is it so difficult for you to give him that? Why is it so hard for him to let go of you?

"Do you really have nothing to say?! Nothing at all? After all of that?"

Forget Me Not doesn't reply. He can't even remember the words that came out of his mouth to make you react like this. He's forgotten how to talk and just the thought of missing his lines is enough to humiliate him - you play your role so well, and here he is, fumbling the part. To match the crying saint in front of him, Forget Me Not needs to deliver the best performance of his life, a monster worthy of your divinity.

The Snake of The Walden stands tall and proud, looming over you (Forget Me Not stumbles and falls to his knees, unable to steady himself).

It coils itself around your hand, cold scales scratching against your skin (with shaking hands, he clings onto anything he can reach - your hands, your clothes)

Piercing eyes stare down at you, mocking and condescending in their superiority (everything is so blurry, so wet. why is he crying?)

Finally, the Snake speaks. The words that spill from its mouth are vile, rattling the foundation of the earth.

"I'm sorry, I love you."