#but I also swallowed a lot of pride and worked really hard to be this lucky

[brigitoshaughnessy]

I just want you to know that sometimes it pays to get over yourself and work with the people you think you hate. Because sometimes you’ll form a beautiful and unexpected friendship with them and they’ll go to bat for you when you need it.

[goldfades]

Can we get Joe dad where the five kids in the future stumble upon his trophy collection and they get caught by their dad wearing his future Super Bowl rings

is this like.. a series now? cause i kinda love jj, gigi and rosie. also the only reason why i don't do five kids is cause thats too many names to remember 🙂‍↕️

the kids were supposed to be playing outside. you’d sent them off with water bottles and sunscreen while joe was in his office, tackling emails. but the moment the house grew a little too quiet, you knew they were up to something.

“it’s fine, mom,” rosie had said earlier, brushing you off when you tried to give them more instructions. “we’re just gonna play tag.”

except they weren’t outside anymore. the faint sound of giggles led you down the hall to joe’s office, the door left slightly ajar. as you got closer, you heard jj’s unmistakable voice.

“guys, look at this!”

“jj, you’re not supposed to touch that!” gigi hissed, her voice a mix of exasperation and curiosity.

“it’s fine! dad won’t care,” jj insisted.

pushing the door open, you found the three of them huddled around joe’s display shelf, the one he never made a big deal about but kept neatly organized. jj, of course, was at the center of the chaos, holding one of joe’s future super bowl rings in his hand. his other hand was already wearing another, slightly too big for his small fingers but still sparking with pride in his eyes.

“jj!” rosie whisper-yelled, glancing over her shoulder as if she expected joe to materialize out of thin air. “you’re gonna get us all in trouble!”

“it’s just a ring,” jj said with a shrug, twisting it around on his finger. “look, gigi, put one on. they’re so cool!”

gigi hesitated for all of two seconds before giving in, sliding a ring onto her thumb because it was the only finger it would fit. “whoa,” she breathed, turning her hand in the light. “this is actually awesome.”

rosie, the voice of reason, crossed her arms. “i’m not doing it. dad said we’re not supposed to mess with his stuff.”

“rosie, live a little!” jj said, grinning. “besides, he probably doesn’t even care.”

“doesn’t care about what?”

the deep, familiar voice froze all three of them in place. they turned slowly to find joe leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised. his expression was more amused than angry, but the kids didn’t seem to notice.

jj was the first to recover, straightening up and holding out his ring-clad hand. “uh… hey, dad. we were just… trying them on.”

joe stepped into the room, taking in the scene—jj looking guilty but still a little proud, gigi wide-eyed and fidgeting with the ring on her thumb, and rosie standing off to the side like she’d already written herself out of the story.

“you were just trying them on, huh?” joe said, crouching to jj’s level.

jj nodded, swallowing hard. “yeah. they’re really cool.”

joe studied him for a moment before a slow smile spread across his face. “you think so?”

jj’s face lit up. “totally! i mean, look at this—” he held up his hand, the ring gleaming in the light. “—it’s like… legendary.”

joe chuckled, reaching out to ruffle jj’s hair. “legendary, huh? well, they’re not just for wearing around the house, bud. these mean something.”

gigi chimed in, her curiosity getting the better of her. “what do they mean, dad?”

joe glanced at the shelf, his gaze softening. “it means a lot of hard work, a lot of teamwork, and a lot of people who believed in each other. but most importantly,” he said, looking back at them, “it means always having your team’s back—just like we do in this family.”

the kids exchanged glances, the weight of his words sinking in.

“so… are we in trouble?” jj asked hesitantly.

joe grinned, standing up and crossing his arms again. “let’s just say you’re lucky your mom didn’t catch you first.”

“too late,” you called from the doorway, unable to keep the smile off your face as all three kids whipped around to look at you. joe’s laugh filled the room, and before you knew it, jj was shoving the rings back onto the shelf with gigi’s help, both of them apologizing at the same time.

rosie, of course, was already halfway out the door, muttering something about how she knew this would happen.

“next time,” joe said, herding them toward the living room, “just ask. maybe i’ll even tell you the stories behind them.”

“really?” jj asked, his eyes lighting up.

joe nodded, throwing an arm around his son’s shoulders. “really. but first, you’re all on dish duty tonight.”

the collective groan that followed was almost worth the chaos.

[hornychristianprincess]

NSFW A-Z: ANTON

a/n: this is just my personal analysis based off my perception and observations of anton's personality. all of this is fiction/fantasy

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Anton can be initially trash at aftercare. He’ll still be trying to process his own emotions about what just happened before he can even think to tend to yours. He has a tendency to assume things so a part of him will just think you’re fine until you tell him otherwise. With some instruction, he can improve. Once he gets in the habit of doing it, you’ll never have to ask again. I also think this cutie would be prone to shyly asking you questions about the sex, wanting to know that it was as good for you as it was for him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Anton spends a lot of time in the gym so I think he has a lot of pride in several parts of his body, but most strongly his broad shoulders and muscular arms. Being that he was once a professional swimmer, this is the part of his body stands out the most. It represents his hard work and unique talent.

On his partner, I feel like Anton would be too overwhelmed to pick one thing. He’ll like everything about you, even things that are nonsensical like your ankle or the back of your knees.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Anton will have a hell of an orgasm if you let him come in your mouth and swallow it. Something about it is almost gross to him, and in that way it turns him on even more. He’s also kind of curious about fucking you raw and coming inside of you; I could see him experimentally pushing it back in with his fingers, something exciting about seeing a part of himself oozing out of you. Most times though, he’ll settle for finishing in a condom, especially because I get the feeling he has a lot of anxiety about getting someone pregnant on accident.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Deep down, I think Anton is curious at the idea of degrading his partner, not just verbally, but physically too. He has sometimes sadistic fantasies of slapping someone on the face with his cock, face-fucking someone to the point of tears, and even watching you get ravaged by someone else. These thoughts are paradoxical for him though, because he simultaneously would lose respect for someone who would allow themselves to be treated that way. He’s also really nice so could never bring himself to talking down to someone he loves. So for now, these are things that he enjoys in fantasy and porn only.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

If Anton’s had sex, it was with a long-term girlfriend or close-friend-turned-lover. He needs to have an intimate level of closeness with someone before he’s able to even think about taking that step.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes cowgirl the most. It takes the pressure off of him to have to take the lead in your pleasure, he gets a great view of your body, and you’re able to maintain the pace. I think he’s also very turned on by doggy style, something about the view of your ass and the pleasure he’s able to deliver from this angle making it appealing to him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Anton makes jokes to cover up mistakes or moments where he feels extra nervous/awkward. Once he’s inside you though, he becomes so focused and overwhelmed that he couldn’t laugh even if he found something funny.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Most times, Anton can’t be bothered to groom himself. Once he has a sexual partner, he’ll start to become self-conscious and put more effort into shaving himself regularly. He honestly relies on his partner to tell him how they want him to look.

On his partner, he doesn’t care. I think he’s feels fortunate to even have access to pussy, so how it looks is irrelevant to him.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I think Anton is still working out what intimacy looks like for him. He doesn’t have the maturity or the sexual experience to know how intimacy should feel. It takes him a while to even feel comfortable having sex without overthinking his every word and movement. For him to get to the point where he’s accessing the emotions required for intimacy, he’d definitely need time and a lot of leadership from his partner.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I think he’s a little bit embarrassed about jacking off, but can’t help but feel called to do it anyway. He does it quite often as a way to let off sexual frustration. He’s motivated to masturbate after a particularly awkward interaction with a crush. If he doesn’t let off steam in this way, he’ll just be sent into a spiral of overthinking until he goes crazy.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Recording: Anton would be pleased if his partner agreed or initiated the recording of their sex. I think something about watching himself from outside of his body increases his confidence about how well he did. He’s able to consume it in the same way he would consume porn. I also think he’s more motivated to try harder when he knows it will be on video.

Mirror Sex: Similar to recording, there’s something about being able to see himself in action that increases his confidence and thus makes him try even harder. He likes seeing how he looks from your point of view and adjusting accordingly. Moreover, I could see him making little innocent observations about how you look in the mirror, saying things like, “Do you like watching yourself cry for me?” and “You look so pretty like this.”

Anal: Similar to what I said earlier about him wanting to come in your mouth, I think Anton is turned on by things that he views as slightly gross or forbidden. The idea of you letting him use your body in this way feels like the ultimate privilege. It feels like his birthday every time you tell him it’s okay for him to touch you there.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s a simple guy – the bedroom is comfortable, safe, and private.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He’s turned on by someone who takes care of themselves physically and puts in the effort to look good for him. Lingerie, perfume, and makeup are all things that make him feel giddy and excited at the thought of fucking you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I think he’s not attracted to women who are just as shy as him, simply because with him also being an introvert, you’re at a stalemate with no one there to take the lead. I also think he’d be opposed to inviting anyone else into the bedroom. He’s overwhelmed enough as it is with just the two of you. The last thing he needs is to have anyone else. Moreover, with him still trying to work through his own confidence about his sexual abilities, seeing someone else fuck you would just drain him of all life energy.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Anton really enjoys giving head. There is something comforting to him about being nuzzled between your legs and lapping at your wetness. He gets very turned on by giving head to the point of sometimes coming in his pants. He also can get carried away sometimes, overstimulating you and not realizing it until you have to push him off of you. He’ll be so confused and apologetic until you explain that the only reason you’re pulling away is because it was too good.

I honestly think Anton isn’t too partial to receiving head. He worries a lot about hurting you in the process, especially because he’s prone to unconsciously bucking into your mouth. Moreover, he feels the best when he’s able to make you feel good, and would prefer to spend his time inside of you than watching you suck him off.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s honestly all over the place when it comes to speed, one moment you’ll be riding him and he’ll tell you to go faster, and in the next moment, he gets overwhelmed and tells you to slow down. Over time, he gets better at developing patience and fucking you slower so that the sex will last longer. Once he makes you come, though, he loses all motivation to be slow and just starts rutting into you until he comes.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

With the way Anton struggles to control himself sometimes, sex is frequently quick, but he’s always motivated to go again if he feels like he could’ve done better. It’s too easy to convince him to have a quickie at home right before you go out somewhere – the temptation is too strong to resist.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Anton is sometimes gullible and easily persuaded, so I feel like he could be convinced into having sex somewhere risky. However, don’t expect him to be at his usual form because the anxiety of potentially getting caught will prevent him from doing his best. He’ll be jumpy and become alert at the smallest sounds. Be prepared for him to back out entirely. Risky sex with Anton will only be successful if the conditions are right. Even so, I think Anton enjoys the thrill of doing something he feels like he’s not supposed to do. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

As I’ve already alluded to, I think his excitement and nerves can cause him to come pretty quickly, especially in those early days of a sexual relationship where he’s still getting to know his partner’s body and what they need to feel satisfied. However, he likes to please above all else, so if he feels like he wasn’t good enough the first time, he’ll want to keep going for another round until he can feel satisfied knowing the sex was good for both of you. The longer you’re together and the better he gets, the less of a need there will be to go for rounds.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Anton is intimated at the thought of using toys. Sex is already overwhelming enough for him, so he doesn’t need any additional things to have to consider. Similarly, I think he would be wary about having toys used on him. He would be scared and embarrassed at his own potential to react whinily (probably not a word but oh well yk what I mean) in response to such external stimulation.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

It’s never in the forefront of Anton’s mind to tease, but I think he can be a tease in a way that’s accidental. Sometimes because he’s trying to savor the moment, he’ll move really slow in a way that is excruciating for you. When he’s at his most confident, he’ll start flying at the mouth a bit more, making some teasing observations about how fucked-out you look. Still, I don’t see him as ever being a person who would intentionally withhold pleasure from his partner.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not loud in his daily life so I doubt he would be loud in the bedroom. In fact, he can be silent for so long sometimes that it can almost be intimidating. When he experiences pleasure, I think he’s the type to bite his lips or form his mouth into a straight line, making a hmpph kind of noise or sighing.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

It was Anton’s birthday, and at your lead, he had found himself sitting upright on the edge of the bed, a silk blindfold obscuring his vision. He could hear you finicking around in his nearby vicinity, the excitement of what was to come cause him to grow hard and stiff in his pants. He leaned back against the bed, awaiting you, relieved when he could feel the warmth of your presence. He heard you utter a tiny, “Ready?” before taking off the blindfold and revealing yourself in a matching, baby pink bra and panty set.

“Suprise,” you remarked casually, watching him chuckle a little as his eyes roamed your body. “Do you like it?” you asked, already knowing the answer as his hands reached out to hold your hips.

“I love it,” he replies, his eyes finally and almost regretfully leaving your body to find your face. “Is this my gift?” he asks with a hopeful smirk.

“Yes. You just have to unwrap it first,” you confirm, and then, as your eyes meet, you lean in to connect your lips in a kiss that starts off soft but becomes sordid as Anton builds his confidence with time.

In what feels relatively like only seconds, he has you completely naked and bent over the bed on all fours, his cock naked and pressed against your cunt with the knowledge that you’re on birth control. Just as he’s about to enter you, he pauses to reach for his phone. “Can I record this?”

“Of course, my love,” you permit, and with his phone on selfie camera and angled right in front of your face, you’re able to watch from the screen as Anton’s expression becomes intense and focused the moment he moves to push his cock inside of you.

Anton fucks into you purposefully, so big that it’s as if he’s digging into your stomach with each thrust. He takes occasional looks over at the phone that’s still actively recording you desperately taking his cock. He makes small adjustments each time he notices his image reflected on the phone screen, pulling your ass up higher or deepening your arch with the palm of his hand against your spine. When he observes your fucked out expression, he feels his lips twitch into a smirk as he remarks, “You fuck me so good. Look so hot bent over for me like this.”

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I am a big dick Anton truther, there is something about his tall build combined with the way he carries himself that just suggests monster cock in all respects.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Anton has a decently high sex drive and is pretty shitty at hiding it when he’s in a relationship. Close to everything will cause him to pop a boner, and once he acknowledges it, it won’t go away until he comes.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Like I said earlier, he’ll only be comfortable relaxing once he’s able to confirm that you were pleasantly satisfied. Once that’s happened, he’ll be so relieved that he’ll fall asleep relatively easily.

[plutocisms]

NSFW Alphabet for Reiner Braun

Reiner won the poll so here you all go!

A (Aftercare) what are they like after sex?

He makes sure you feel comfortable and wants to chat a bit afterwards about any/everything. He’ll play with your hair, massage you, just watch you and you all talk, eventually he uses your breasts as pillows and doses off talking to you.

B (Body Part) favorite on themselves and of their partner

He prides himself a little on his torso, he’s got quite the build and worked hard on it.

On you he love everything from your head to toes. The trifecta especially, chest, ass and thighs.

C (Cum) anything to do w/ it basically

His preference would be to come inside you, it makes him feel closer to you. If that’s not an option he would opt for your torso/breasts.

Side note, he also isn’t scared/avoidant of his own like a lot of guys are. What I mean by that is he could nut in your mouth and make out with you directly after not worried about (in fact he’s happy with) tasting himself.

D (Dirty little secret) self explanatory

Deffly jerked off using your (used) panties, smelling them and wrapping them around himself, more than once.

E (Experience) also pretty self explanatory

His experience is little to none, a lot of conversations were just lockeroom talk with other guys, he didn’t really learn how to please anyone until you.

F (Favorite postition) ^

Loves cowgirl, standing up and bouncing you either against the wall or not, bending you over anything, counter top, sofa, etc, and sideways missionary.

G (Goofy) are they more playful or serious in the moment?

He leans on the more serious side for sure I don’t see him cracking very many jokes at all, he’s more sensual and a dirty talker than joking.

H (Hair) how are they groomed down there?

Color wise it’s barely noticeable and he keeps it pretty trimmed. Well groomed.

I (Intimacy) are they more romantic or lustful in the moment?

Extremely intimate, with the perfect balance of lust. He might even cry afterwards (or during). Lots of eye contact, moaning into you, very touchy feely w tight grips.

J (Jack Off) masturbation headcanon

He hates himself for it when he does, which isn’t too often, maybe 1/2x a month. He tries to opt for the shower if he really needs the relief, and may even use a pair of your panties to aid him.

K (Kink(s)) self explanatory :)

He definitely calls you mommy/mami/mamas lmao idc. He’s into dirty talk, praise, role play, obviously a size kink. Fluid bonding. He’s loves it wet and messy and will take pleasure in cleaning you up with his tongue.

L (Location) where they like to do it

he’s not picky about where at all, he loves a passionate excursion whether that be parked on the side of the road, over the kitchen counter, or in the comfort of your alls bed.

M (Motivation) what gets them in the mood?

If you straddle him he quickly becomes undone. Seeing you in his clothing really gets him going, how they basically swallow you whole. Thigh riding fs, that’ll do it every time.

N (No) what they wont do in the bedroom

He is in no way sharing you. Other than that I see him open to a few things, as long as they are things you absolutely want—only if it pleases you. He will try his best to never deny you whatever brings you pleasure.

O (Oral) do they enjoy giving/receiving?

He absolutely loves eating you out, it’s a nonnegotiable, he has to get a taste every single time. On his knees for you.

He adores receiving and it’s definitely a weakness of his seeing you take him all in. Just the thought is enough to make him nut so the sight of it makes it almost impossible not the finish quickly. His eyes are shut a lot during just so he can last a little longer.

P (Pace) how fast or slow are they during?

He’s got the perfect middle ground, and typically only picks up the pace when you ask because he doesn’t want to hurt you. Perfect mix of sensual and lustful.

Q (Quickies) how do they feel about them?

He loves a good quickie, as much as he’d love to worship you as long as he could, quickies are fun and passionate and he could use more of both in his life.

R (Risks) are they willing to take them?

He would take a few, again this is mostly because he’d stop at almost nothing to please you. He would only want to make sure you don’t get caught by anyone.

S (Stamina) how long can they last?

Oh he can last a lengthy 4 rounds before needing a moment. He could likely go a little longer as a titan shifter but wants his performance to be the best with you so doesn’t typically.

T (Toys) are they into them, do they have any?

I don’t see him using very many toys but he loves when you dress up for him. I see him being into a bit of role play.

U (Unfair) are they a tease basically

He’s certainly a bit of a tease, he won’t deny you much but will delay a bit. He loves hearing just how bad you need him, he’ll make you cum over and over and will snatch you back up if you even try to get away.

V (Volume) how loud are they during

This man is loud and will never hold back the sounds from the pleasure you deliver unto him. Moaning, whining, growling, grunting, swearing, whispering—everything.

W (Wildcard) random headcanon

Foreplay is actually huge for him and he’ll make a day of it. Out eating with friends? He’s touching up on your thighs, sometimes not so subtly. Pushing up on you as he scoots past you in public. Whispering dirty things to you in the supermarket.

X (X-Ray) what's it looking like under the hood

I don’t think he’s the massive 8/9 people say tbh. He’s definitely like 6.5” and girthy asf. It’s thick. Which is plenty bc he knows exactly what he’s doing w it.

Y (Yearning) what's their sex drive like?

He definitely views sex as a stress relief among other things and we all know he has a stressful life so his drive is pretty up there, he really just can’t pull himself away from you.

Z (Zzz) how fast do they fall asleep after?

Pretty quickly if you guys are snuggled up after, again if he’s using your breasts as pillows he’s out like a light.

[getoogles]

; CHOI SOOBIN 🐰 a job with good benefits

— note; if u thought i was normal abt this post you’re. dead. wrong.

— cw; ceo soobin, pa/boy toy reader, unbalanced work dynamics, subtop male reader, power bottom soobin, possessiveness, fucking in his office, sir kink (sb), praise kink (r), lil pet play (r is puppy), handjob (r receiving), cum swallowing. 2.3k words.

there’s a particular rhythm to the knock that sounds on the dark door to his office, one he knows needs no answer before it pushes open and your head pops through, a polite smile on your face. it's something to four, and the corridors on the exec floor are drastically busier with the comfort of home in sight. as you did almost every day, your blazer had been left behind, the smooth roll to your sleeves a casual reminder of your position in the company.

“hey mr choi. i finally got the reports from marketing for this quarter.” you wave the thick packet of papers in the air as you walk in further, the heavy door closing behind you and silencing the work buzz with a soft click. “you’d think i’d threatened his entire family, the way jake avoided me this week — it almost hurt my feelings.”

you laugh and your handsome boss gives you one too, except it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. he knows why it was so hard for you to get a hold of the blond; it was his doing after all. soobin had asked him (quite nicely too, according to his standards) to keep his distance after he was told of the manager's substantial crush on you, but did he have to be so obvious about it? enough for it to hinder your work? he has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. jake’s fortunate you turned out to be a little oblivious in that regard. him even more so — it made it that much easier for you to stay wrapped around his fingers. how could you not see what he and every other person in the office saw?

a shame really. the first time you met he was enthralled by your intelligence, sense of humour, and your good looks (you were hired on the spot not two months ago) but he couldn’t help but notice the humility that prevented you from reaching higher. his personal assistant? soobin’s sure the roles could’ve been reversed and would’ve worked just as well. or maybe you simply enjoyed being at someone's beck and call. who’s to say.

the older man rises from his chair and circles his desk to rest on the front, outstretching a hand towards you. you hand him the stack, as usual. then he tosses it onto open desk space without another look, you follow it with a blank stare. you’re wearing nothing out of the ordinary but soobin can’t take his eyes off of you, wolfishly taking in the way your broad shoulders look encased by your shirt and the way your watch makes your veiny hand look a little bigger.

“i’ve also saved the documents to the shared files for you to look at whenever. oh, and before i forget. your lunch tomorrow with ms huh re the fearless campaign has been moved to midday, i hope it’s not too inconvenient for you. her pa double-booked.” amateur. soobin can hear the pride in your voice, confident you’d never make such a mistake. cute.

“that’s fine, thanks for rearranging. so my meeting with hongjoong?”

“you’ll have an hour rest before seeing mr kim.”

“good job, i always know i can count on you.”

“of course mr choi,” you wave a limp wrist in his direction with a sheepish smile, finding something else, not near as eye-catching as him, to look at in the room.

“i’ve already said you can call me hyung when we’re alone — you don’t have to be so formal. or, as you know, sir works just as fine.”

“ah,” your smile falters as a flash of a memory from a few nights ago darts across your mind. ‘sir’ was his preferred title the last time you’d been in private together, his penthouse balcony two nights ago, less sober and a lot closer than you stood now. you shake your head to lose the lewd image of him bouncing on top of you that begins to form before your eyes. before you can think about them, the words are flowing from your lips, “i understand, sir.”

“good boy.” it makes you freeze on the spot; he can’t be saying that at this time, at this place. a shiver runs down your spine when you finally meet his eyes again, dark and dripping with hunger. "you always work so hard for me: i’m sure you’d like something in return for your efforts?"

he most certainly is.

rising up to his full height, soobin watches with a smirk as you stiffen up once more, now looking anywhere besides him. you steal an inch or two above your already towering boss, which makes it easier to look over his cherry-coloured head, but that leaves him in direct eye contact with your smooth neck, bobbing up and down as you begin to stammer out.

"well, you already pay me quite a lot," he steps closer, and you take a step back.

"a different form of payment," he scans your body from bottom to top, head tilted in mock curiosity as he plays your game. it hasn’t been long since you first found yourself tangled in his sheets, but soobin already knows you. knows you like the back of his hand that sneaks a finger into one of your belt loops.

“w-wait. here? n-now?” he takes another forward, you another back. the distance between your bodies is small enough that if you flinched too hard you’d touch. “i mean, it’s almost four, everyone’s going to be moving around, y-you can’t—“

“i can’t?” you shut up immediately. “are you trying to tell me what i can and can’t do, ln?”

fuck. the plush of a leather seat meets your calves when you try to take another step back. double fuck. soobin sees the opportunity and takes it, slim fingers coming up to your chest and pushing. you fall ungracefully, but there’s no time to adjust, because your attractive boss is leaning down towards you, hand now holding your tie to pull your face towards his.

“answer me.” your palms start to sweat where they lay on the armrest. your legs are spread wide and he takes a look at the not-so-modest bulge under your suit pants. a whine slips from your lips when you realise where his gaze is focused.

“no! no, i’m not, i’m sorry.” he raises an eyebrow. “i’m sorry sir.”

he beams at you, dimples coming in to steal the show. for someone so sexy, exuding such confidence and charisma, it never took long for you to submit —adorable really. soobin can’t help but demand more. “you learn so quickly puppy. why are you shy? we’ve done more in worse places, don’t you think? my office is nothing. let me treat you.”

with that, the businessman slides onto your lap, long legs clad in his pinstripe suit coming to frame your thighs. your fingers twitch beside you. despite your brain and previous experience telling you otherwise, you can’t help but want to hold him, to tug him closer and let him devour you whole.

indeed, his office wasn’t that special; you had access most others did not and more than once had found yourself there during the late hours, doing things a chief executive and his assistant shouldn’t. it was more the thought of employees coming and going, hearing you explore each other’s bodies that kept you on edge.

you know there’s nothing left on his schedule today — you organised it after all. yet, the ceo wasn’t a stranger to quick end-of-day visits, charming and inviting as he is. it’s one of the reasons morale ran so high company-wide, with everyone vying and succeeding at being on his good side. well, except a certain someone, unbeknownst to you. you could only hope this was not one of those days.

soobin thankfully presses closer until his chest is against yours and your head tilts back, almost uncomfortably, to look him in the eye. his cherry blossom hair falls forward, showing off his strong, dark eyebrows. his full lips tease you endlessly, and you stretch up to ghost them.

soobin knows what you want, watching as you watch his lips curl into a grin, “wanna touch?” you say yes instantly, hands ghosting his hips. just his weight on your legs isn’t enough. “not yet.”

your eyebrows furrow, and he thinks for a second you’ll complain, challenge him like sometimes you did. but instead, you tuck a lip between your teeth, sighing through your nose, “touch me then, please?”

his hand drops your tie to slide up onto your throat, slender fingers curling to hold your jaw in place, “since you asked so nicely, puppy.” his other drops to your belt, leisurely undoing all the barriers until he can squeeze a hand into your underwear.

his hands are cold against your hot dick, and you gasp onto his lips. the older laughs, giving you a cute. always so sensitive. all for him. only for him. he pulls you out half-hard, before making sure your eyes are still on him. they were. then he lets his saliva build in his mouth and bows forward before letting a thick wad fall onto your cockhead.

“ohhh, shit. that’s— you’re so fucking hot, sir.” spreading his spit, he starts fisting your cock to its full length in moments, the hand on your throat tightening slightly in possessiveness. no one else could hear you like this, see you like this, touch you like this. soobin can’t help but lean down and connect your lips, swallowing all of your pretty noises.

his tongue reaches into your mouth and you’re quick to suck on it, his eyes falling half-mast in lust. you do well in keeping your hands away, nails digging into the tough fabric of the armrests in an attempt to ground yourself. it’s harder to control your hips though, and you fuck gently into soobin’s fist with a hiss.

he feels you squirming under his weight and pushes harder down, a silent warning you take well. it's difficult, so difficult, to keep from moving. and being unable to squeeze at his thighs or his waist is a feat harder than you recall. you let your head roll back to regain some focus. it doesn’t help much. not when soobin starts twisting his wrist with each ascend and descend down your leaking length, calculated squeezes at your swollen cockhead and base that makes a sweat break out over your body, “so good, yeah, fuck me,”

the ceo is obsessed with how your face scrunches up in pleasure, hushed moans falling from your lips as you plead for him not to stop, to let you touch him. so handsome. even more so when you beg. a pretty dimpled smile blooms on his face, "being such a good boy for me, only for me, hm? letting me fuck you at work like this,”

still looming above you, soobin is amused by the effectiveness of your puppy-dog eyes at his words and how your breath hitches. you nod quickly, paying no mind to his controlling tone. despite your earlier worries, you quickly surrendered to his will. you always did. “say it.” he demands, slowing his pace.

“y-yes! all yours, sir, only yours. please, wanna cum for you,” soobin purrs in delight at your words, dick stirring in his pants at your indecency. seems you didn’t care so much about being heard anymore. the walls are soundproof anyway.

the older leans in closer, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck to kiss you harshly, meeting your moans with one of his own. “touch me,”

and that you do, not forgetting to thank him as you squeeze his ass and tug him closer. your other hand grips his wrist to hold him in place so you can fuck into his fist, feeling yourself shoot closer to an embarrassingly fast orgasm. more groans and whines fall from your lips and soobin can tell just how close you are.

he slides off your lap, much to your weak protests, but when he lands on his knees and swallows your leaking cock in one swift move, you’re immediately silenced. all it takes is one look down into his hungry eyes as you’re stuffed in his tight, wet mouth to push you over the edge.

“haah-! fuck sir, i’m cumming, cumming,” your hands seek his bright hair as your hips pull up from the seat, body tensing up as you release all you have into your boss. soobin’s nose is buried in your groin, tongue flattening and throat opening up for your seed to spill down. despite his controlled breathing, he can’t stop his responsive moans, unbelievably turned on as he lets you thrust lightly into his mouth until your high washes over and away from you. when your grip loosens, he slides off with a vulgar pop, having made sure to clean you up entirely. he swallows it all. as you pant, you look down at your stupidly attractive employer.

he leans back on a hand to showcase his straining bulge, feeling his body burn with desire at the taste of your salty cum. “look what you did to me, yn. ‘m so fucking hard because of you,” he bites his plump bottom lip as his other hand trails down his chest and abs until he can grip himself, whining lowly at the contact, “you’ll take care of me, right? like a good pup?”

you can’t look away from him, leaning forward and swallowing your spit as if in a trance. your softened cock jumps at the thought of soon being held between his thighs, pleasuring him with your skilled tongue. or if you’re lucky, getting to bury yourself deep inside his sweet ass, “of course, sir, whatever it is you need from me.”

soobin grins wickedly up at you, as he sheds his blazer and pulls at his knotted tie, pink hair shielding the dark look in his eyes. you’re all his, alright. no way you’d leave a job with such good benefits.

©2024 getoogles. all rights reserved.

[orbitariums]

( in the accent of a suburban blk girlie ) dhmu just thinking ab being art and patrick's joint pretty little thing and they're both like hah ! art/patrick could never score a girl like this, she's different from every woman ive ever met ( black as hell, boujie as hell, BUILT as hell ), he doesn't have it like me. and then all of a sudden they both find themselves at a mostly black club she frequents and posts ab on myspace a lot and they both find themselves giving her flirty, llustful looks across the dance floor at her, go to give eachother a 'hah you could never pull all that' look and realize they're both doing the same thing and then realizing that you could pull any little frat-esque, trust funded white boy you wanted and they LOCK TF IN on proving they could treat and fuck you best

- 🎹

all that | artrick + black reader

literally obsessed with this request piano anon ... thissss is universe-building and i LOVEEEE to cross cultures >:-) also, made this playlist to fit the vibe (tried to keep it 2006 themed but haddd to throw some cash cobain in there — his new album is also perfect to listen to for this)

contains: a FINE black GYAL, art + patrick feening they ain't never BEEN with a baddie, smut: fingering, oral (f! receiving), threesome i realize i could've made this a drabble but i'm a writer. so imma write. so i hope y'all fw this! word count: 7.7k and not proofread

It's giving Stanford era Art and Patrick — Art feels like he has dibs on you because he met you first and takes a few classes with you. Unlike Patrick, Art prides himself on being your friend — even though you've really only interacted through class projects, and Art hardly has the courage to talk to you outside of class.

You're different from anybody Art or Patrick have wanted in the past. Stanford opened up a door to a whole new world for them — a world outside of rich white girls who spent their summers in the Hamptons or elite tennis camps. and you were the key holder. you were hands-down the most stunning girl they'd ever seen. For Art, it was the Marley twists that reached your butt (a staple hairstyle of yours when you weren't rotating from lace fronts to sew-ins to natural), the way your brown eyes glimmered when a ray of sun shone over you through the window.

For Patrick it was your lips, thick and glossy or perfectly painted with a brown lip combo — gawking at you in the cafeteria when he visits and watching you reapply your lip gloss after you eat might be his favorite pastime.

Once, Patrick literally groaned, throwing his head back with a hand on his forehead when you bent over to pick up your lip liner, then readjusted your jeans and did that little jump trying to fit your ass properly back in the pants. Art couldn't even call him out on it because it took everything in him to hold back a whimper.

Your skin was supple and a rich brown, soft like a pillow they wanted to sink into. everything about you was something to admire — your laugh, the certainty in your voice whenever you spoke, your graceful yet assertive demeanor. You knew who you were, and that was something lacking from all the Sarahs and Kaylors and Brittanys they had been with. And, satisfying their basest desires, was your stallion body. tall, thick, and fit.

"She's so pretty," Art blinked slowly, the two of them watching you from a distance in the library as you gathered with a group of friends, standing around a table and giggling softly.

"Her ass is so fat. I've never seen anything like that shit before," Patrick murmured, his eyebrows furrowed as if he were concerned— really he was just incredulous.

A beat as Art swallowed hard, clenching his jaw. Ignoring the way his pants grew tighter. Patrick doing the same.

"Yeah," he exhaled after a moment of silence and low-eyed ogling from the two of them.

It was weeks of that — just gawking at you and getting themselves worked up thinking about you. At that point, there was more sexual tension between Art and Patrick than either of the two lusting boys had managed to work up with you. Tashi found their fantasizing aggravating and berated them for not just going up to you and talking to you — secretly, Art and Patrick praised the fact that Tashi has a girlfriend, otherwise she'd be competition too.

Art practically fainted when he saw you in the hallway talking to Patrick— Patrick leaning against the wall with his hand just above his head, towering over you with the confidence of a sly dog. He could just make out the murmurs of your conversation, the warm ringing of your laugh, Patrick's flirtatious chuckling overlapping just a few seconds later. He was laying it on thick, and Art felt like he might go into cardiac arrest with how angry he was.

Art strode up to the two of you with determination, slowing down once he gets closer so he doesn't come off as defensive as he felt. He gave Patrick an icy, tight-lipped grin that made Patrick smirk ever-so-slightly, his eyes wandering to some spot just above Art's head.

"Pat," Art bleated. He turned to you, his eyes softening along with his brain and everything else in his body except his dick. He smiled gently, locking eyes with you. "YN. It's nice to see you. I'm Art, by the way."

You shook your head and chuckled, one of your braids drifting over your shoulder. You pushed it back, and Art and Patrick went numb at the simple maneuver. You bit down softly on your bottom lip, grinning bemusedly,

"I know who you are. We did like two chem projects together, don't you remember?"

"Yeah, remember?" Patrick echoed, glancing over smugly at Art, who was too enamored by you to side-eye Patrick in return.

"Yeah. Yeah of course I remember. You were the backbone of our projects," Art trailed off into a genuine laugh, one full of appreciation.

"Well, I am pre-med, so," a slight laugh bubbled up in your throat and it was so attractive and confident, Art couldn't help but grin at you dazedly.

"Smart girl," Patrick inserted himself, catching your eye as soon as you turned your head to him again.

You didn't miss the way he held eye contact, the way he was so comfortable giving you a name to hold on to, like it was something he was used to doing with you. There's some sort of intimacy to a nickname like that, suggesting something provocative yet impossible to name. You're well aware of the fact that they're both attracted to you — you couldn't possibly miss them staring at you even when you knew they thought they were being discreet.

Seeing them now, up close and personal, finally actually talking to you instead of checking you out and avoiding eye contact, you saw their strategies, their archetypes. Art, the charming and unassuming rabbit — assumed timid by most but smart and eventually crafty — and Patrick, the rakish, bold fox, unabashed in his cunning and willing to show out. Both types that you'd seen before, but not quite in this form. And both intrigued you deeply. You, the snake. Letting them have their glory in this game now, but plotting just how you would leer over them soon enough, evaluating your prey.

"Gotta be. I only get one chance," you replied to Patrick's comment.

You could tell he was used to having girls stuck, and you weren't that type. But with you, their eagerness and need to prove themselves was strong right away.

You could tell they were trying to figure out what to say. You figured they were used to girls giggling and blushing over them. Maybe they expected a thank you, complete with hair twirling and bashfulness, like you didn't already know you were smart, fine, and everything in between.

"Mkay," you hummed, smiling precociously up at them. "I'm gonna hit the library, got a bio exam next week. I'll see you both later?"

"Yeah. Yeah, you'll see us," Art assured you immediately, on top of Patrick drawling,

"We'll be on the lookout."

You chuckled, giving them one last look over your lashes before you turned around. You could feel their eyes on you as they left, tracking all the way down to your hips which swayed as you walked.

They watched you like that all the way out the double doors, in a trance. When the door finally closed, Art swiveled on his feet and jabbed Patrick in the shoulder, walking off dramatically. Patrick caught up to him quickly.

"What the fuck? What's that for?" he whined.

"What the hell man, you can't just talk to her," Art frowned.

Patrick paused, staring at Art like he was a middle schooler,

"I just did. Besides, it's not like you were talking to her anyway, I did us both a favor."

Art knew he was being petulant but he couldn't himself — he didn't mind admiring you with Patrick, but sharing you was a whole 'nother thing. He wasn't ready to admit that the thought turned him on, and the attraction was still fresh enough that he was possessive. Maybe the doors would open once he knew he could get you.

"Yeah, well I was gonna."

"Ha!" Patrick barked out a cold laugh. "Like that'd get you anywhere."

"Fuck does that mean?" Art scoffed, glaring at his best friend and lamenting the luscious mop of overgrown dark curls brushing against his forehead.

Patrick tapped the underbrim of Art's red hat, which Art quickly readjusted,

"Look at you. You're dressed like a skinny white cuck. You don't even know what to do with all that." Patrick was growing more and more defensive and loud by the minute. He shook his head and glared off into the distance like he was thinking of just how he'd handle "all that," then continued. "She wants a big dog."

Art actually laughed — he genuinely doubled over laughing, and Patrick marched along while Art was cackling a few feet behind. He caught up to Patrick, red in the face,

"And you're a big dog? You're a rich white Jew from Rochester, New York."

Patrick smirked, like he knew something Art didn't — but when does he not know everything before Art has even gotten a hint? Or at least, he pretends to know everything. Art wasn't sure if it was too late to come out from under Patrick's wing, it's all he knew.

"Exactly," Patrick responded quietly.

Art, miffed but trying not to show it, switched the trajectory of the conversation and shook his head. He offered the first reality check ever since this little crush had formed,

"Don't sound too sure of yourself. I don't think either of us are her type."

"C'mon Art, don't be racist. You think she only likes black guys?"

Art was ruffled— he retorted,

"I didn't say that!"

"Whatever, I got her Myspace. I'll give it to you so you can stalk her but don't actually follow her like a creep. You're welcome, dumbass. You can thank me for bringing you a step forward from jerking your tiny little dick while you think of her alone in your dorm room."

How the fuck did he get her Myspace?

| | |

Patrick was back again by next week, fooling around on the computer while Art laid back on his bed and bounced a tennis ball against the ceiling.

"Oh shit," Patrick muttered to himself, a toothpick wiggling in the corner of his mouth. Art perked up, sitting up on his elbows.

"What?"

"Come look," Patrick waved Art over.

On the computer screen was your Myspace, which you just updated few minutes ago.

[ YN ] Can't wait to hit up Nebula later tonight!

"What's Nebula?" Art asked, his voice quiet and curious as he squinted at the glowing screen.

Patrick wordlessly pulled up another tab and typed up Nebula. It was a club a few miles north of campus. It had no description but a bunch of pictures. It was different from what they were used to — frat parties consisting of fist bumping and neon necklaces, a sea of white crashed against the floor and someone shotgunning a can of Budweiser. Instead, they're looking at photos of a nightclub with flashy lights and graffiti decor, and not a single hint of white — at least, not in any of the pictures. But it looks busy, and as far as they can tell, it actually looks fun.

Patrick and Art scanned the page of images meticulously, it was like their brains were reconfiguring. After some time, they both speak at once:

"Should we go?"

"We're fucking going."

The boys spent the next few hours getting ready. Or at least, Art did. Patrick didn't have a change of clothes, so he was going as he was — untucked Ralph polo, khaki shorts and all. Art on the other hand, showered and rotated through multiple outfits. By his third shirt, Patrick was fatigued,

"What are you doing?"

Art held up a white t-shirt to the mirror and angled it against his body,

"I don't wanna show up looking like an asshole. Look at you, what are you wearing?"

"There's nothing wrong with it," Patrick griped, though he did a double take at himself behind Art in the mirror.

"Did you not see how everyone was dressed in the pictures? We're gonna look like idiots if we show up like a bunch of tennis douchebags," Art retorted, finally deciding on a white shirt and ripped blue jeans.

"We are tennis douchebags," Patrick said to himself. "Got a pair of black jeans I can wear?"

Art smirked wordlessly, throwing a pair over to Patrick.

The club is packed, to say the least. But it's huge. The bouncer took a long, hard look at the two boys before graciously deciding to let them in. They did look painfully out of place — the club seemed not to have a white person in sight for miles. They were tokens here, not oblivious to the curious looks and outright glares. Chingy's Right Thurr was blasting from the club speakers, booming over the sound of Air Force 1s and chunky heels scuffling across the floor. Art and Patrick stood in the front, taking in the view of the dance floor like a pair of birds overlooking the sea from the shore.

"What if she's not even here?" Art muttered.

"She's here dude, trust me. No way she's staying in on a Friday night after exams and this is clearly the place to go," Patrick shouted over the music. The two silently scanned over the crowd, desperate to pick her out in a sea of people. Then, Patrick laid eyes on her. He jabbed Art's side, who immediately snapped his vision to focus on you, so far away on the dance floor, unaware of their presence.

You were in a tight-fitting short pink dress that hugged every inch of your body — it seemed like it was made for you. Your tits sat pretty and your ass jiggled with even the slightest move. Your brown skin glinted under the flashing lights, and reflections shimmered off of your golden bracelets. You were with a group of friends, laughing and rolling your body to the beat, hips swaying with the motion of water. Patrick and Art were absolutely stuck, staring at you with dry mouths.

"Fuck," Art mouthed, and Patrick found his lips pulled beneath his teeth.

You didn't have a care in the world. You weren't drunk, but you had a few drinks in you and the bass was thudding against your eardrums just right. And you knew you looked good. Everything felt right — but the last thing you expected to see when you turned your head was two white boys, especially not two white boys who you knew. They seemed to realize that they were caught once you made eye contact with them, squinting at first in confusion.

Then, you saw it, the lustful look in both of their eyes. Patrick was unabashedly checking you out — you were sure he was doing it before, but now it was like he wanted you to know. And Art had this look in his eyes, so deep and watchful that you could tell he was simply drinking you in. Arms tucked over his chest, his tongue swiping slowly over his lip.

You giggled, returning their gazes with a subtly flirtatious cock of your head, and a bemused grin. Patrick smiled and nodded, and Art cocked his head in unison with you. Like he was playing. And you liked this game. You turned to your friends for just a moment and quickly excused yourself, then turned back to face the two boys, glancing towards the bar.

You didn't wait for them, just started slowly sauntering over, knowing they would follow you.

Once you broke their gaze, they turned to each other, smirking. On the one hand, they knew they had an in. But they were challenging each other too, with a competitive spark in their eyes that said, "you wish."

They rushed over to the bar, practically skidding across the bar and even bumping into each other. They got there just seconds before you did, still catching their breaths by the time you got close enough. Before you could even open your mouth, both of them were panting. In unison, they spouted,

"Hey—"

"Hi."

"Can I buy you a drink?"

They glared at each other, and you laughed, shaking your head. They were practically brothers, the way they were so in sync with each other and seemed to bounce off of one another. It was fun analyzing their characters, and even more fun because they were trust fund babies without a care in the world, and you couldn't be any more different. But one thing was for certain — you could get anything from them.

"That's y'all's favorite question, isn't it?" you grinned up at them slowly, batting your lashes.

They both laughed weakly, not used to being called out so bluntly. They were so set on having you, but now that you were in front of them, it was clear you made the rules. The way you assessed them both silently, letting your eyes observe the both of them from head to toe, slowly but surely, they had no choice but to stand at your feet.

"How about this," you started, and they perked up like dogs, hanging on to your every word. "Whoever guesses my drink of choice can buy me a drink."

"Sex on the beach," Patrick blurted, mainly because he was thinking about sex.

"Vodka cran?" Art offered hesitantly.

You squint at them, shaking your head.

"Cognac, neat."

Patrick snorted, and you looked over at him with a curious grin. He explained himself,

"Sorry, it's just... that's dark liquor."

"Duh. I don't waste my money on watered down cocktails." A pause. "So...?"

They fought to get drinks, but ultimately, Art was the one who flagged the bartender down first. You told them that you should talk somewhere a bit more quiet, and led them to a couch beneath the stairs, where the music was slightly muffled. You knew that their eyes were on you as you were walking, you could tell by the way they went silent while behind you.

You sat between them on the couch, one leg over the other. Both their mouths went dry over the sight of your thigh pooling and expanding as you placed it on top of your other one. Your brown skin contrasted deliciously with the pink fabric of your dress.

You sipped your drink and leaned back just a bit against the couch. Basking in their intent eye contact.

"So," you smirked.

"So..." Patrick grinned at you, unafraid to show all his teeth.

You glance between the two of them,

"It's your first time here, isn't it?"

"Whaaat?" Patrick feigned offense, shaking his head and waving his hand. He sips his drink, leaning back just a bit to align his body more with yours. "Psshh, no, we come here all the time."

"Really?" you challenged him, and he just nodded silently with that fucking smirk on his face, his eyes boring into yours with an impish sparkle. "'Cuz I come here all the time, and I haven't seen you two before. Like, ever."

"Guess you weren't looking for us hard enough," in comes Art, quiet as ever but still so strikingly present — it's impossible to forget him, the way he sneaks up on you every time with some suggestive comment or smart remark.

You turned your head towards him now, your smile growing bigger by the minute, thoroughly enthralled by this delicious dialogue.

"Oh, I should be looking for you two?'' you raised your chin up, humored.

"Nah, but I mean... you might find something you like," Patrick replied, coolly as ever, never looking away from you even when you weren't looking at him. It was how you found yourself face to face with him when you turned your head away from Art.

"Yeah? And what's that?" you mastered your most innocent voice possible, rubbing your glossy lips together. Patrick's eyes lowered down to your lips, and he let them stay there for a while before he spoke again,

"You gonna let us find out what you like?"

No smirk this time, accompanied by unshaken eye contact. It got your heart jumping, but you played it cool, chuckling and sipping your drink,

"Y'all play too much."

"Who says we're playing?" Art interjected then, and you're met with a charming, slow-appearing smile.

“Messy. You usually have the same taste in girls?"

"I mean, yeah, we do," the boys glanced at each other and nodded good-naturedly as if assessing the question together before providing you with an answer. "But you're just... better," Art replied, and Patrick nodded.

"Better? Better how?"

"I mean... you're incredibly sexy," Patrick said as if it were self-explanatory.

"Yeah? Tell me more," you bared your teeth in a slick-mouthed smile, leaning your chin on your hand and blinking softly up at Patrick. You turned your head slowly when Art spoke.

"Your lips. They look soft," he licked his lips when you looked at him. It was like he was a completely different entity now, shrouded by the thick cloud of desire he had for you. His voice had dropped an octave lower and his lids seemed heavier. He took a sip of Cognac and leaned back just a tad.

"Got a pretty voice," you turned this time to Patrick, whose lips were turning up in a slow smile, his teeth glinting in the dark club.

"Beautiful eyes," now Art — you knew you had them right around your finger but they were proving to be more than you'd bargained for — you wondered how often they moved like this to a girl, together.

"Your body's absolutely insane," Patrick divulged.

"Personality takes the cake, too," Art chimes in.

By the time they'd finished, it felt like they were inches closer to you, encasing you in their body heat. And they had inched closer to you, the both of them cocking their head in your direction, studying your face. It all felt so practiced, yet natural. They knew just what they were doing, and that's why you didn't move a muscle. But you'd be lying if you said it didn't have an effect on you.

You didn't reply, you just sat back and slowly swallowed down the rest of your drink. All eyes were on you, the boys both leaning back against the couch and just admiring you. You set the glass down on the table in front of you and got up to stand, wiggling your dress down to readjust it.

"Let's dance."

That's how you found yourself sandwiched between Art and Patrick while a song by Miguel played. Your breaths, hot and smelling of liquor, floated against each other, bodies pressed into yours. Patrick was behind you with his hands on your waist, towering over you and looking down at you in awe. He kept it respectful, but you could feel him against your ass, poking through his ripped black jeans. Art was in front of you, your arms around his neck, just inches of space between all of you. The club was dark bar for a strobe light rotating across your faces periodically, so you could hardly see the desire in their eyes, but you could feel it. You swayed your hips to the rhythm of the song and let your head fall back against Patrick's shoulder, swaying your whole body now. Art was pressed into you, his face dipping into your neck. He nearly whimpered— you smelled like caramelized vanilla and a hint of coconut oil. He imagined you lathering your damp body in creams and oils after getting out of the shower, and had to fight an erection from forming directly against you. Meanwhile, Patrick was already half-hard.

All they felt was bliss — Patrick had more of a sense of certainty that the night would end up somewhat like this, but Art doubted they'd even be able to find you. You could sense the way they held back, waiting for you to shut it down or take it an inch further. You paused when you felt your cellphone vibrate in your purse. You pulled away gracefully from Art and Patrick, who stood there dumbly waiting for you to pull them back in. You grinned when you read the text from your friends, who knew of your whereabouts, telling you to pull up to Alicia's apartment for afters, and "bring your little white boys."

You let the boys usher you out of the club, Art with his hand on your waist trailing behind you, and Patrick taking your hand as he pushed through the crowd and out the door.

"You smell amazing," Art mentioned the minute the fresh air hit you, re-surging the scent that drove him near ballistic in the club.

You giggled at Art's sudden outburst, and the genuine admiration in his tone,

"Thank you, babe. Now, are y'all good to drive?"

| | |

Alicia's apartment was huge — her dad paid for everything, to say the least. The moment you walked in, Alicia, Nessa and Tiana crowded around you, squealing and ooh-ing and aah-ing over Patrick and Art.

"This your lil shit right here? Go head, then YN," Tiana stuck her tongue out raucously and you shook your head, laughing.

Before you knew it, you were pouring shots of Hennessy down each other's throats, playing a vicious game of Uno, and blasting Me & U by Cassie. Art and Patrick had some settling in to do at first, since they weren't used to being around mostly black girls — the most fun they knew how to have at parties was fist-bumping to dubstep. But they fit right in, and your friends had no trouble making them feel welcome. As the night went on, you lost some of that mysterious enigma, but it didn't make them want you any less.

Art nearly melted beneath you when you stood up above him and poured Ciroc down his throat, holding his chin up with your fresh French tips. Patrick was next, putting on a brave face, unwavering against the screeches and pointing from your friends. He made sure to keep eye contact with you, swallowing boisterously with an "ahh!" sound, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You grinned and took a swig yourself, then ran to your friends to dance with them, swaying your hips and shaking your ass in a way they hadn't seen just yet. It was like they weren't even there, it was just about you and your friends now.

"Fuck, man," Patrick blinked slow, standing beside Art just feet away from you.

Art ran his hands through his hair, in disbelief at the way your ass moved in your dress,

"I'm gonna be honest, Pat. I don't think either of us could handle that."

For the first time, Patrick nodded, wordlessly agreeing.

It didn't take long for your friends to disperse about the apartment, most of them heading out to the balcony to smoke. You decided to stay behind inside ("For your guests, right?" Nessa had snickered, smirking over at Art and Patrick).

"Are you bored to death yet? You're the only two dudes here," you sauntered over to the two boys, who were leaning against the kitchen counter. All three of you were just a bit more than tipsy, eyes bleared over and heat fanned against your cheeks, drifting about in that pleasantly warm dreamscape.

"Bored? You just baby birded both of us with Ciroc," Art guffawed, and you cocked your head to the side, looking up at him with those low, drunk eyes,

"Yeah, you want more?"

"I want whatever you have to give me," Art replied with quickness, simply entranced by your eyes and that sweet voice. You chuckled, shaking your head.

A smattering of shrieking sounded from outside on the balcony. You scoffed, swiping a joint that Alicia had rolled from off the kitchen table. You started walking down the hall, back faced to them as you said,

"They're so loud. Let's go somewhere quieter."

Art and Patrick both gave each other a glance— they weren't sure if the night would ever actually come to this, but still they didn't quite know what to expect. All they knew was that whether or not either of them could "pull" you, you were the one in charge. Your hips swung more freely from side to side as you walked loosened by the Henny and Ciroc concoctions of the night. Art and Patrick's eyes were like pendulums following your hips.

You turned into the guest bedroom, plopping down onto the bed.

"Close the door," you gestured to Art. Heart pounding, he closed it behind him.

Art and Patrick stood stupidly in front of you. You shook your head at them, laughing quietly,

"Are y'all gonna sit?"

They might as well have tripped over themselves zooming to sit next to you on the bed, one on either side of you. You had the whole world in your hands. It was silent bar for the muffled R&B music from outside. For boys who were so flirtatious, they were awfully quiet now. You shifted to place your legs underneath you, sitting on your knees, your dress riding up your thighs just so. If they looked behind you, they'd see your ass poking out a bit too.

"So. Who's idea was it, hmm?" you hummed. "I mean, you must've wanted to come find me. I'm impressed."

You lit the joint, pressing it to your lips.

"Saw your Myspace post. Thought we'd keep you company," Patrick admitted, coolly as ever, though you saw the bulge forming in his jeans, saw the way his eyes drifted down to your lips around the joint.

You tossed your head back to exhale, giggling up at the ceiling and covering your mouth with your hand.

"You thought you'd keep me company. Y'all are too good."

You passed the joint over to Art, who took a drag and exhaled while keeping it perched in the corner of his mouth, voice half-muffled as he continued,

"We just wanted to make sure you weren't lonely, that's all."

"Yeah," Patrick took the joint from Art, doing the same. "Since you don't have a boyfriend or anything."

This time, Patrick lifted the joint up to your lips for you. You leaned into it, slowly wrapping your lips around it and sucking for just a second longer than you usually would, never breaking eye contact while Patrick's smirk grew wider and wider with each passing second. You blew the smoke out and it fanned against his face.

"And how would you two know if I don't have a boyfriend?"

Art sniffed, humored, as you passed the joint to him. It was starting to hit now — a haze rose up just so slightly in the air. You relaxed into it, feeling emboldened.

"Don't think we'd be here if you did," Art shot back.

You snaked forward, taking the joint from Art's lips and putting it to your own. He let out a sharp breath at the casual dominance such an action exuded. Your face was just inches away from his— you didn't know if it was the weed, or how turned on you were after exercising the utmost self-control for the better part of the night, but you noticed that his eyes had such a gleaming strike of blue in them.

"Think you got me, is that it?" you questioned, so close to Art that if you inched any further, your nose would brush against his. He swallowed, unsure of whether he should be turned on or scared, but either way, his pants were getting tighter. Your voice was so tantalizingly quiet as if you were sharing a secret just for him and Patrick. You huffed out a humored breath. "I'm not gonna fuck you, you know."

The way you were looking at him begged to differ. You felt the strap of your dress slide down ever so gently over your left shoulder. Before you could push it up, Patrick's hand, strong and firm, was grazing against your shoulder, pushing your dress strap up. You let your gaze on Art linger for just a moment longer before you turned to Patrick, smirking. You handed him the joint, which had gone out. He placed it on the bed beside him. You were leaning in, an unmistakably seductive twinkle in your eyes as you got even closer to Patrick, murmuring under your breath,

"'M not gonna fuck you either."

“Not gonna fuck me?” Patrick smirked, looking from your hazey eyes to your lips. You pressed your lips into his, letting your eyes flutter closed as you hummed your response into his mouth,

“Mm-mm.”

A slight breath escaped Patrick, keeping his mouth open so you could slip your tongue against his. Patrick kissed you hard and slow, his hands immediately wrapping around your back as you lifted your leg over his lap and straddled him. You could feel how much he’d been wanting this by the way his tongue curved effortlessly against yours and his grip on your hips got stronger. He kissed the way he talked. Rough and hard, but with effortless ease, like he knew exactly what you liked. Maybe it was his confidence that made the kiss so good, his lips locked in perfectly with yours. You reached behind, pulling Art in as you simultaneously pushed Patrick down so his back was against the mattress. 

You pulled away from Patrick and in one fluid motion turned your head to kiss him, letting your hand wrap against his neck and run up through his hair. Patrick, who was watching from the pillow, groaned and let his head fall against the pillow. Art kissed you needily, but gentler than Patrick. He kissed you like he was parched and your lips were a fountain of water found in a barren land— like he needed to explore more. As you kissed Art, you felt Patrick’s hands kneading your ass, and you moaned — which made them both moan. It took everything in Patrick not to just lift your dress over your ass. But you must have been reading his mind because you wiggled your dress over your ass so it was finally exposed. 

“That’s it,” Patrick groaned in approval, his hands finding new purchase against your bare skin, squeezing your ass with a tender grip.

Your kiss with Art grew sloppier, spit threatening to spill out from the side of your mouth as Art pressed himself against you. You let your hand wander down to his black jeans and gripped the hard bulge that was poking out, running your hand up and down it. Patrick, not one to be left behind, took the liberty of lifting your dress a little higher so he could see the black, lacy panties you wore. He let out a low whistle, his firm on your hips grew firmer, keeping them in place as he ground his up into you, rolling up directly against your clit through your underwear. You gasped when you felt how big Patrick was, pulling away from Art to look down at the sight of Patrick’s hips snapping slowly into you. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, tilting your head gently to the side so Art could press his lips against your neck. 

Patrick chuckled, but he was unable to hold back the groan that lodged in his throat. He could feel your clit pulsing through your underwear. 

“Take it off, baby,” you gestured down to Art, who scrambled to take your dress off, throwing it carelessly to the side once it was over your head. Both the boys nearly busted on the spot, because instead of being greeted with a black, lacy bra, your tits simply tumbled out of your dress, perfectly plump and brown and sitting pretty. 

“Oh my god,” Patrick groaned at the sight of your tits above him. He sat up immediately, attaching his mouth immediately to your tits. Art, a whimpering mess by this point, followed quickly, his lips wrapping around your stiff, brown nipple. They both sucked on your tits lasciviously, reserving one for each of them. The lewd sounds of their tongues sucking your plush skin as their hands fondled and squeezed you filled the room. Art was gentle, shifting from reaching a hand underneath your tit and cupping you softly to circling a gentle finger around your nipple. Patrick was more direct, grabbing you with closed hands. 

If you weren’t so turned on, you would honestly giggle at the sight— these two boys who’d been fiending for you for so long, showing you just how long they’d been waiting for this very thing. It was a wonder — the school’s prestigious tennis players who attended every frat party and had enough money to be set for life (Patrick at least), reduced to a melting puddle beneath you. At your beck and call, your mercy, even as the grind of Patrick’s dick against your clit made you soak through the panties. 

You looked down at them with a cunning smile playing on your lips, cupping both their chins softly,

“You’ve been wanting this real bad, haven’t you?”

Two pairs of needy, blissed-out eyes looked up at you immediately, their heads nodding insistently as they moaned around your nipples. You chuckled, your laugh ringing like bells in their ears. You tasted so divine and they hadn’t even tasted you where it really counts. Art decides he wants to get a head start. You felt his hand, his fingers long and spindly, travel down your body, past your soft stomach and down your thigh, until it looped back up to the waistband of your panties. He toyed with the waistband of your panties, pulling at the stretchy fabric until he let it snap against your waist. 

He pulled away, his lips warm and wet against your ear as he whispered,

“Can I?” 

You bit down on your lip and nodded, gazing at him as he let his hand travel back down until it crept into your panties, never breaking eye contact even as he dipped two fingers against your soaked slit. You trembled at his touch and he smirked, cocking his head gently as he brought his fingers to his lips, tasting you on his fingers.

“She tastes so good, Pat, you gotta try,” Art said, leaning down — Patrick, dazed, lifted his head and looked up at Art with glazed-over eyes.

You watched, rendered speechless for the first time that night as Art dipped his fingers back just slightly against you again, and placed them at Patrick’s wanting lips. Patrick sucked the taste of you off Art’s fingers like it was nothing, like he’d done it before and would do it a thousand times more. The sight of him, lifting his head up to meet Art’s fingers, made you stir above him. 

“Fuck, she’s perfect,” Patrick practically moaned, his lips hovering at Art’s fingers. He wasn’t even looking at you, still holding Art’s gaze as he dipped his hand into your panties and prodded at your slit, the pad of his finger tapping against all the arousal that’s gathered there, making wet sounds like fat raindrops collecting in a puddle. “She’s so wet already, shit.” He held Art’s gaze for a moment longer before he turned to you. 

“Can we taste you?” Art asked, his voice soft and lilted. 

You lifted yourself off of Patrick’s lap and kneeled between the two of them, taking their shirts off one by one. Art went to take off his cap, You embraced Art in a kiss first, then Patrick, until it was lost on you which was which— it was all a blur, mouths sloppily entangled and meeting in the middle, kissing each other all at once and you were certain Art and Patrick’s lips met more than a few times. Somewhere in the middle, they had pushed you back against the mattress. You whined as their lips suctioned against your body, down down down until they stopped between your thighs.

You couldn’t see whose lips were on you first, but you were sure it was Patrick, the way he dove right in without hesitation and started sucking expertly at your clit. You cried out, your back arching slightly off the bed at the sudden jolt of pleasure from the contact. You saw Patrick’s tuft of black curls right in between your thighs, and Art’s golden-orange locks just beside him, placing chaste kisses on your inner thighs, his hand massaging the plush skin there too. 

Patrick moaned from in between your legs, sending vibrations through your core and up your chest. You relaxed into his touch, pushing his head in and burying your fingers in his curls. He made sure to drag his tongue along every inch of you, pointing it into your slit and thrusting it into you, and flattening his whole tongue against you as he gave kitten licks to your pussy.

His grecian nose poked deliciously against your clit and he used it to his advantage, bobbing his head up and down each time you moaned at the point of contact. He sucked your clit gently with his lips, toyed at your slit with his finger and glanced up at you to gauge your reaction. The moan that fell from your lips as you locked eyes with him from between your legs was almost pornographic, and enough for him to slide one thick finger inside of you. 

You were writhing above him and Art, moaning ever so softly. Your tits were splayed perfectly against your chest and your face was constantly contorted in the sweetest expressions. They’d both imagined you like this, mouth open and eyes rolling back into your head, trapped in bliss. Then another finger, fucking into you deep and slow as he continued lapping up all your arousal, all while Art kissed your thighs with increasing hunger, his once soft kisses becoming wet and crazed. 

“Fuck,” Patrick pulled away, his mouth and chin glistening wet with spit and your arousal. “Art, taste her pussy. Want you to feel what I did to her.”

Art whimpered and assumed position immediately. 

“Wait,” you said, shifting and turning yourself around so you were on your knees, your pussy pulsing right in front of Art’s face while Patrick pulled down his shorts and boxers, wrapping a hand around his shaft and starting to tug slowly, groaning under his breath. Meanwhile, Art’s eyebrows rose up so far he thought they’d get stuck there, his mouth dropping slightly at the sight of your pussy throbbing around nothing, your folds dripping with a mixture of your own arousal and Patrick’s spit. 

You placed your head on the pillow, craning your neck to look back at the two boys. You liked the juxtaposition that was happening — the two of them in full control of your pleasure, while you were granting them the only thing they’d been thinking of for weeks now.

“Oh fuck,” Art whispered to himself, and Patrick chuckled darkly, squeezing the base of his cock. 

You wouldn’t admit it, but their faces in this moment were seared in your mind permanently – Art’s gaze of pure amazement, and Patrick’s wicked smirk snaking across his entire face, glaring down at your pussy. It was enough to make a shiver run down your spine, how readily they consumed you — the feeling of being wanted wasn’t new to you, but with them, it was just… different.  

“Her pussy looks so pretty after it’s been ate, doesn’t it?” Patrick noted to Art, who nodded with a broken whimper before shoving his face into your pussy, his button nose dancing against your clit as he put his tongue to work. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, your head dropping down against the pillow. Art might have been gentler, but that did not mean worse by any means.

If anything, he was passionate, noting every slight movement and sound you made and following in your stead. His tongue lappd against your clit, pleasure climbing up your spine. The new angle had you struggling to keep your legs up, but Patrick was sure to keep you in check.

“This is what you wanted right?” he proclaimed, one hand on your thigh to hold you steady, the other still stroking his cock, a bit faster now. A guttural moan surged from your throat as you nodded weakly. “Yeah? So take it. Take Art’s tongue in your pussy, fuck.”

Patrick looked down, his mouth hanging open as he watched the way Art slurped away. He detached his lips only to slide a finger in, kissing you gently as he fucked his finger into you, slow and deep and relishing the way you stretched over his finger. 

“So fucking warm,” he muttered, talking to your pussy like you and him were the only two in the room. He slipped another finger inside you, which made you cry out, pussy throbbing around his fingers. “There you go, squeeze my fingers.”

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed, delirious. Art was rutting against the bed now, chasing his high along with you, and Patrick’s hand was working overtime on his cock, spreaidng the precum leaking from his tip along the shaft. His hand reached up to smack your ass, groaning at the way it reveberated beneath his touch. 

“You’re so fucking hot, oh my god.”

Inadvertently, you started to catch the rhythm of Art’s fingers, throwing your hips back against his fingers and his face. The sight of your ass practically covering Art’s face was almost too much for Patrick to handle — he actually glanced away for a second, hoping he could hold off on his swift-approaching orgasm. 

“Yeah, fuck back onto my face, I want you to use me,” Art moaned, muffled by your thighs wrapped around his head. 

You weren’t sure when it all happened, you just knew that you were moaning both their names as you’re sent over the edge, Patrick and Art deftly following — Patrick in his hands, Art in his jeans, hips stuttering against the bed. You squeezed around Art's fingers as you dripped down onto the bed, soaking Art's tongue and chin. It took a while for all of you to gain some semblance of reality, pushing past the haze of pleasure and smoke and bitter alcohol that you were floating in. 

“Did you come in your jeans?” Patrick’s voice cut through the foggy silence, and Art slapped his chest. 

“Shut up, look what you did to the sheets.”

You were lying on your back, gazing up at the two boys with a sated grin, resting your hands on your stomach. 

“Aren’t you glad we found you?” Patrick teased. 

You didn’t have to answer, he already knew.

i think i’m gonna have a part two for this you guys have no idea how much i was debating whether or not they should fuck in this but i feel like reader is the type to make them wait…  plus it would've actually been a novel if i added that and i wanted to get this out cuz i don't wanna keep y'all waiting!! so when they fuck they'll fuck NYASTY.

[candiyaa]

You haven't posted since over a month so I have no idea when you'll see this, but I read through your page and really like what you write.

May I request Kokushibo, Akaza and Obanai with a fem s/o that's tall, muscular and physically stronger than them? I'd love to see what you do with this.

OH MY DAYSS STOPP thank you so much you don't know how much these words mean to me I'm really glad my work is appreciated also I really really REALLYYY do apologize for my absence as I said I don't know yet how to properly balance school and other activities like that but I promise I'm trying lol 😭 Also LOVEEE the idea thank you for requesting it and I hope y'all will like it !!!

KNY MEN with a s/o that's taller and physically stronger than them

Pairing : Obanai ; Akaza and Kokushibo x fem! reader

CONTENT WARNING ❤ : None I believe ?

AKAZA 𝜗𝜚🍒ᝰ.ᐟ

Your NUMBER ONE supporter ! Akaza values strength above everything else

He's thrilled to have a physically stronger s/o like you.

He likes to spar with you a lot , you actually push him to do better and he admires you for that.

He brags about you A LOTTT .

THAT man is in love , deeply in love and honors you in every way he can.

He might sneakily try to make you even more "stronger" too with all the techniques he knows and has learned over the years — not because you need it, but because he sees strength as love.

He would never tell you but having you with him rassures him. As someone who always had to fight alone and look after himself , he feels like he can finally relax and feels a sense of safety whenever you're around.

"You're… really something, you know that? When I'm with you, I don't feel like I'm losing."

"Wha-"

"Come spar with me." *quickly gets up , shifting the subject after realizing how deep his words might've sounded*

If you ever tease him abt it , he might not even react , he'd just keep the banter going , yes that's how much love he has in store for you.

No jealousy or shattered pride , he admires you more than anything and feels very lucky to have you by his side.

IGURO OBANAI 🐍

SHOOK. was his first impression. You intrigued him more and more everyday and eventually , you guys ended up together.

Although in the beggining your height was indeed a hard pill to swallow , he knew he wasn't that tall but the thing is — YOU were THAT TALL. (he got jealous of your height)

Got pride wounded. He started climbing trees more often when you guys were outside training , just so he could be above you in height. It even became an unconscious thing he did all the time.

Silly how your strength didn't seem to bother him that much , in fact he had already been admiring you from afar even before you guys started talking. Your height really was genuinely ONLY what irked him a bit.

Being known as one of the hardest Hashira to talk to was definitely starting to show in many ways , with random humorous yet insecurity-like moments like this :

"Stop doing that at once !"

"What but I'm not doing anything ? *you genuinely just standing in front of him*

You're literaly in my face right now , like really close ! I see that you're tall , you don't need to remind me by doing that !

"But Obi I'm genuinely just standing-" *climbs to a nearby tree*

"Hmmpf.. yeah.. whatever you say.." *realizes he was being childish and does the spiderman kiss on you from his tree , muttering a small apology*

Kaburamaru is like this all the time : 🍿👀, never missing a second fr.

Also, you better not tease him abt it or else he'll just glare at you and won't speak to you until you come to apologize.

KOKUSHIBO ⚔ 𓆩✧𓆪

Kokushibo was speechless at first and couldn't quite believe that his s/o was stronger than him , let alone taller.

He didn't feel threatened one bit by it , at first , yet it was quite.. , well ,disturbing in his eyes.

He was used to being the one and almighty Upper Moon One , the Supreme Moon at that. Strength was his pride , so having his s/o not needing his help in that area made him feel like he wasn't really useful in the relationship.

He would try to help you lift things or assist you with any tasks but it always led to uncomfy and awkward situations like this :

"Wait , let me help you with that-.. *you lifting the furniture with ease*

I see.. I shall not interfere then.."

Although he tried to hide it , after some time , it started to gnaw at him and his pride got slightly wounded.

He started subtly show off whenever he trained or sparred with you (never to the point of hurting you physically ofc )

It turned into an everyday subtle competition of "Who's the strongest here"

After a while , he did realize that his behavior was childish and of no use. And simply began to admire your strength more than ever.

You actually pushed him to do better and stay at his best , why would he ever complain ?

At the end of the day , you're still and always will be his "remarkable s/o whom he loves very dearly" (I NEED THAT MANNN OKAYY)

Though just like Obanai , you better NOT tease him abt any of it , unless you wish to experience the world's longest silent treatment and trust me you don't want that..

⋆˚✿˖° Hiii hope you guys liked that one !! Once again I apologize for all the possible grammar mistakes and please give me time 😭 I went through all the requests and am actually working on them so dw if I haven't uploaded yours yet !! xoxo ⋆˚✿˖°

[megwritesriddles]

Mike Schmidt NSFW Alphabet

18+ MDNI!!!

A/N: I can't believe how carried away I got with this... can you tell I think about Mike Schmidt a lot...? Also I know I said I wasn't gonna post until maybe June but procrastinating my uni work is a hell of a drug... this time I'm disappearing fr... maybe…

Word count: 4.4k words (omg)

all fandom masterlist | fnaf masterlist

Warnings: fem!reader, period mention, breeding kink/pregnancy mentions (only as fantasy), slight degradation, Mike is bad at feelings, somnophilia (mentioned once in no detail rlly), some pervy behaviour.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I love the guy, but I don’t think he’s great at this. He’d just kinda roll over, maybe keep an arm around you if he’s feeling it. After you’ve been together/hooking up for a long time, I think he might memorise your post-sex routine enough to make sure you have a glass of water on the nightstand beforehand and sleepily remind you: “Aren’t you supposed to go pee or something babe?” in a gruff voice. He’s not pampering or bathing you, but might sit in the bath with you if you run one, and won’t object to holding you in it. If he hurt you in any way, he would apologise and pad away to get you a bag of frozen peas to hold on it. But I can’t really imagine kisses on the boo-boo or cooing as his vibe. It’s not that he doesn’t care, it’s just who he is.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I think he takes pride in his arms. He’s not crazy buff, but he’s in shape and has some muscle definition in his arms from his daily push-ups and all the manual labour jobs he’s had to work over the years. He preens whenever he catches you looking at his biceps, going especially crazy if you mention something about them. He likes to show off his strength to you, both in sexy ways, and more mundane ways like coming to help you move furniture. He loves to feel useful, like he’s actually adding something to your life, this is a way he can feel that objectively.

This man is an ASS MAN, I’m sorry but you cannot convince me different. Sure, he likes your boobs, he gets hard when you lean over to grab something and your cleavage is right in his face, but your ass is something else entirely. Obviously he thinks it’s sexy, but he also just likes to rest a hand on it, softly rubbing or squeezing as you stand together in his kitchen or lie together on the couch. He might even be the kind of guy to have a hand in your back pocket in public, although really he’s a bit too reserved for that. He thinks about it, though. Wear some form-fitting clothes or bend over in front of him and you can have him eating out of the palm of your hand (or somewhere else)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I always headcanon Mike as having a breeding kink… idk why. He doesn’t want kids, he has his hands full and wallet stretched thin enough, but he definitely does love to cum inside of you over and over and push his cum back inside of you when it drips out. Sometimes, he might even make comments about how you’d look with a belly swollen with his seed, but quickly regrets the thought once the sex is over. It’s just a fantasy about you, not about actually becoming a parent, he basically already is one.

You better be on the pill or some form of birth control, because he’s feral to come inside of you. If he ever has an opportunity to get a vasectomy (idk how he would but just humour me), he definitely would get one so you two can play about without risk.

If he’s not coming inside of you, I think he’d want it to be in your mouth. He finds it very hot when you swallow everything he gives you, loving when a bit of cum drips down your chin. This will mainly be reserved for quickies though.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Imagining there are no evil animatronics in the equation, he would 100% want to chase you around the abandoned halls of Freddy’s while he’s meant to be working. He’d give you a head start, then chase you down, pinning you to the floor and having his way with you. As much as he plays annoyed, he loves it when you manage to get away halfway through and make him chase you again, both of you laughing from the excitement and adrenaline. He grabs you once more, nipping your neck as you giggle breathlessly. He growls softly, though he can’t keep the amused smile off his face, “I have you now, little bunny,” (or whatever nickname you find hot for this scenario, he’s adaptable).

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Mike can only go one of two ways in my head.

1. He’s basically a virgin. Maybe, had sex once or twice with like a high school girlfriend between when he was kind of healing from the Garrett thing but his parents were still alive, but that’s a big maybe because was he ever healing or acting well-adjusted? probably not. So between being a traumatised, stunted teenager and then an even more traumatised adult who spends all the time he’s not working caring for his little sister, he has no time for dating and struggles to open up to anyone anyway. If he has any experience, I totally see him as being in a multiple year long dry spell by the events of the movie. So very limited experience.

2. Or! Any time he’s free, he goes to a bar and finds a woman to hook up with as a way of coping and keeping his mind off of things. He’s handsome and has a brooding quality about him that works in his favour picking up these women, and he’s never rude or unkind. In fact, honestly, he might hope that each of these hook-ups turns into true love, but of course they don’t, because he can’t be normal about relationships and drives everyone away, unconsciously or not. So he tries again the next week to the same result.

I usually lean towards 1. but I can kind of see either. Either way, he doesn’t have experience with healthy relationships, and if he has any sexual experience, it’s limited to tipsy one night stands or teenage fumbling, so he needs some training when you come along.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary… doggy… cowgirl… all the basics… but you know what he loves? SPOONING! Wrapped around you and pressed against your back while watching a movie, don’t be surprised if he’s pushing down your sweatpants and slipping inside of you in that position. He loves doing it like that on his couch, or even in bed on a rare lazy morning, his lips trailing up and down your neck and shoulder, his chest warm against your back, his arms wrapped around you tightly, one hand sneaking down your tummy to your clit. He loves it. It gives you the perfect opportunity to tease him when he climbs behind you into bed after his night shift, pressing your ass back and wiggling it against his crotch until he gives in and pulls your sleep shorts to the side for a sleepy fuck. To him it’s like cuddling, which he already enjoys, but with benefits. And he doesn’t have to worry about the faces he’s making, which he feels a bit embarrassed by no matter how many times you say it’s hot.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s serious, teasing or self-deprecating when you’re just making out and he’s lamenting how fast you got him hard again, or teasing you affectionately for being a ‘needy slut’ as you grind back against him for the second time that night, or he finally pins you down against the floor of Freddy’s, but during the deed he is focused and mostly quiet other than groans and grunts.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I don’t think he grooms down there. He washes well so he sees no problem, maybe trimming if it’s causing any sort of issues. He’s not a person who cares much about appearances or presentation, so as long as it’s practical (clean) it doesn’t have to be pretty. He doesn’t care what you’ve got going on down there, as long as you also keep clean. In fact honestly if you were clean shaven or waxed, I think he’d talk you into going natural because ‘who has the time or energy?’. A little hair never stopped him from enjoying his favourite meal anyway.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Depends what your relationship is. I think he can be quite quick and detached if you’re just hooking up, whether it’s natural to him that way or he’s forcing himself to act cool is a different issue. So when he’s starts cradling your cheeks and saying how pretty you are during sex, instead of his usual gruff and clipped dirty talk, you’re immediately suspicious that he’s developed feelings, despite his own obliviousness and confusion when you try to confront him about his change in behaviour.

In a relationship he’s a bit softer, but still more closed off than most. He’ll say you’re beautiful and he loves you, then blush, even if he’s said it a hundred times before. He’ll take more time with you if you’re together, not rushing either of you toward the finish line to avoid getting attached (not that it would work anyway) and rather savouring the closeness. He’s shyer voicing his fantasies in an actual relationship than he is dirty talking with a hook-up, because frightening you away is not an option. His breeding kink sounds much more romantic when he whispers it to you slowly and slightly nervously while stroking your cheek.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Doesn’t get that many opportunities to get off on his own (he’s a busy guy) but whenever he does, he’s taking it, wasting no time and going as many times as he possibly can, because who knows the next time he’ll have this chance? He’s almost certainly thinking about you as he does this, even if you aren’t together yet. Those little outfits you wear to watch Abby/work at the mall/wherever he meets you just drive him so wild and all your social media accounts are conveniently public for his viewing pleasure.

Once he has you around, this is much less urgent. The time he gets alone is now spent calling you and getting you to come over, or showing up unannounced at your place to hump like animals. He will always prefer being with you over using his hand, so his hand essentially retires.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink as I’ve said. Dare I say… a bit of somno.... he doesn’t mind if he’s the one asleep or not, he just finds it hot. Chasing prey as I also mentioned before, chasing you around and pinning you down, though it’s more playful than serious roleplay, just to get the adrenaline pumping.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Couch!! He has such a couch sex vibe and you can’t tell me different!!! But he also likes the bed, or the wall or floor at Freddy’s when you’re alone there together. He’s too reserved for anything exhibitionistic beyond the abandoned Freddy’s building at night, and I think he’d prefer to keep you to himself anyway.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you bend over or wear a tight skirt or leggings or something that highlights your ass. When you highlight other parts of your body with clothes or positions, like being sprawled out on the couch when he gets home. When you wriggle against him as you cuddle. When you play coy and shy around him or run away just to tease him. When you rub his back after he’s had a rough day at work. When he catches you admiring his arms. When you tell him you’ve missed him in that whiney voice. The list goes on…

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Probably anything overly gross and messy. 1. Because he’s not into it. 2. Because he doesn’t have the time or energy to clean up afterwards. He might consider period sex if he's just about to put a load of towels in the laundry anyway, but if it creates extra work, he's not really up for it. Time is precious and he's a little lazy.

I think he'd be willing to give you a little spanking if you were into it, a little bit of degradation (but affectionately) calling you desperate and slut and such (I think he'd kind of like it if you called him a slut too when he's acting like one, he's happy that he's comfortable enough around you to act that way, or if you say "God, Mike, you're so easy," when he gets hard from something simple and innocuous). He won't slap your face, or choke you, or do anything crazy rough to you. He's not into seeing you in pain, in fact, it actively turns him off and makes him uncomfortable. He's quite playful during foreplay (once he's comfortable with you) so back-and-forth teasing and a (non-painful) slap on your ass is more his thing. Even his chasing kink is more about play than fear.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Mike likes a blowjob as much as any other stressed 20-something guy would. He loves seeing you on your knees, looking up at him with your sweet eyes. He'll play with your hair while you're down there, and maybe guide you by it if you're into that. If not, he's happy to just sit back and let you work your magic. For some reason, I headcanon that the first sexual experience he has with you is a blowjob. You're just hanging out/at work/whatever and you're sick of the tension, so get down on your knees in front of him. Who the hell is he to say no to that?

This is NOT to say he doesn't like giving, because he does, I think he even surprises himself by how much he enjoys it. He enjoys feeling useful as I've said before, so watching you feel so good from his ministrations is a thrill. He might use it to get his way a bit, kneeling in front of you a little while after an argument and silently kissing up your inner thighs, knowing you'll give in to him and forgive him for being an idiot. It's also something he does whenever he gets jealous or insecure that you might leave him. It's like he's reminding both himself and you of what you have together and what he can do to you.

He would definitely enjoy a sixty-nine (with you on top), bringing you pleasure only heightens his, and he enjoys when you get all sloppy and whiney on his cock as he brings you to your peak. Will massage your ass as you sit on his face, he would happily die crushed between your thighs.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

I kind of see him as being slow and rough, you know? Deep measured thrusts, watching your expression each time he's buried to the hilt. Of course, he picks up the pace a bit toward the orgasm, but I don't think he's ever crazy fast. Lazy sex is his favourite, so he's mostly pretty laid-back in his pace, but no less intense.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He's definitely up for a quickie, more often than not, a quickie before work or on the couch while Abby is safely away and asleep is all he has the time for, so they're fairly frequent. He does prefer taking a bit more time with you, so when he can make the time for a longer session, he's happier, but he's also just glad he's getting any action from you at all, so he's not complaining.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

I think so, but not crazily so. He knows what he likes and doesn't like, so has some hard boundaries set, but that's not to say he wouldn't try a few things. Handcuffs, blindfolds, acting more dominant or submissive than usual and roleplay (although his acting would be super stiff) would all be things I think he'd be willing to give a go. Who knows? He might incorporate them into your sex life, or quietly tell you that he didn't really enjoy that much.

Risk-wise, a risk he would absolutely NOT take, is the potential to be walked in on by Abby. Couch sex is only fine because you can keep a blanket over you and her room is all the way down the hall so you have time to get decent before she could see anything, plus she's always asleep when you do that anyway, it's never during the day unless she's away at school. He will not take risks in regards to that, and hopefully you wouldn't want to either. You keep quiet and there's a lock on his bedroom door just in case.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

I think he does one round at a time. He might go a few times in a day, but there'll be a good break in between rounds. He can maybe push for two in a row on a special day, but more than that is physically not possible for him back to back. He'll happily make you come over and over though.

Unfortunately for Mike, I think he can finish prematurely quite often... he will definitely make up for it with you, but especially in the beginning, it was over quite fast. He's sheepish about it, yet tries to pretend he doesn't care and keeps going with pleasuring you however he chooses to do it, but the slight pink at the tips of his ears gives away his embarrassment. On the flipside, on days he's extremely stressed, he might have quite a struggle to come, and you'll have to stop several times to get him to relax his muscles and take a few deep breaths. Generally though, once you've been hooking up for a while, he'll come at an appropriate time and you can properly enjoy the experience together.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I go back and forth between the idea of him having a fleshlight before he met you. I mean, since I usually headcanon that he was in a dry spell, but he's also a 20-something virile young man, I think it makes sense that he needed some sort of outlet for stress release. He would probably be really embarrassed about buying it, even though the person behind the counter couldn't give less of a shit, then he feels so weird about it that it just sits under his bed in its box for a month or two while he uses his hand. Finally when he does use it (maybe because he wants to pretend it's you) it feels really good, but he feels totally lame afterwards. Still, after that, he uses it every chance he gets, because he spent the money after all, even if it makes him feel like a loser. The second you start to sleep together, he's happy to hide it under his bed again to collect dust like it never existed. Though he might let you watch him use it, if you're into that. (Disregard this if you headcanon him as having hooked up with women from the bar)

I think he might kind of enjoy having you sitting between his legs, your back to his chest, with him holding a vibrator against your clit, his other hand softly kneading your breasts and his lips suckling your neck. Or just holding one to your clit while he fucks you. He finds it super hot if you tell him you used a dildo on yourself and imagined him before you were sleeping together, but he doesn't want to use it on you. Why use a dildo when he has a perfectly good cock right here? (Not related to toys but he loves to hear about fantasies you had about him before you were together, it makes him super hot and bothered, he loves to know that you wanted him as much as he wanted you).

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Once he's comfortable with you and sure that you're probably going to stick around even if he acts a little annoying, he can be very teasing. Like I've said a few times, I think (when he's comfortable) he's actually very playful with foreplay and the other things leading up to sex. He enjoys a bit of 'banter' or playfully swatting your ass. If you proposition him he might tease you and tell you to beg for it, but actually during sex, I don't think he's that teasing. He wants to make you happy and he wants to be happy as well, and to him, teasing usually only pushes that back, so he also doesn't like you teasing him that much. But definitely just throughout the day, like if you're cooking or doing laundry, he might just come up and rub against you from behind, kiss your neck, murmur a few dirty words and then walk away leaving you wanting so that you'll chase after him for more.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's pretty quiet, out of both necessity and just his nature. He will grunt and groan quietly, maybe the occasional small choked-out gasp when something surprises him or feels just right. He's up for a little bit of dirty talk or praise during sex, but it's very short and hushed. He isn't a babbler, and the better he feels, probably the less likely he is to talk. So he might whisper a few dirty things right as you get started, but as he approaches orgasm, he goes silent other than his pleased grunts and listens to whatever sounds you're making. He loves hearing your pleasure (as long as you keep relatively quiet, even when you're home alone I think shouting and screaming might freak him out a little), but he loves mewls of his name or soft praise/dirty talk from you. I think he'd find it kind of cute if you were the opposite of him and tended to babble as you came.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He's definitely the kind of guy to tell you that you're just hooking up and it's not serious, even though he's already fallen completely in love with you. I see him (maybe because of fanfic) getting into a friends-with-benefits arrangement with Abby's babysitter, and even letting her live in his spare room and spending every moment together, cuddling up every night, even pecking and holding hands in front of Abby, and not realising he's actually in a relationship, because he's too scared to actually say the words. You just let it be because, he's treating you well, he's not cheating on you, the sex is great, he's just oblivious to his own feelings. One day a coworker of his bumps into you in the grocery store and sees you all over each other, then asks Mike the next day about his 'girlfriend'.

"Girlfriend? What girlfr- ohhh... I see what I've done,"

A nsfw headcanon is that if you lived together, or even if you were just around enough to leave some clothes around occasionally, he is DEFINITELY stealing your panties. He's a bit of a perv (though he does feel ashamed of it), but is unaware how much you're aware of it, and how much you like it. It's just a little too easy for him to get his hands on your panties, but he doesn't realise to question it. Another one and this is so random, I feel like he tries to stay away from pornography, and if he does interact with it, it's like vintage or like old playboy type magazines. lol idk why?? and it's all kept very secretively in boxes under the bed... I think Mike carries a lot of shame tbh...

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I've mentioned earlier that I think he has decent biceps. He would have broad strong arms (even stronger than they look, and they look pretty good), but not much muscle elsewhere. He has a little fat around his belly from eating pretty badly for years, but nothing too significant. Downstairs-wise, he's probably quite girthy, average to slightly larger than average length. No matter what he's like under his boxers, I think he's a little insecure about it, having convinced himself there's something wrong because he hasn't ever really had much comparison (staying away from porn), and anyone he's slept with (if with anyone) hasn't mentioned anything about it, so he assumes they were disappointed, when really there was just nothing to say, as saying 'hey nice cock,' is kind of weird and he had no particular features there to remark on.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High, he's young, he's stressed, he's repressed and you are just so attractive to him that it's hard not to want it a few times a day. A good thing about him is that if he gets horny and you're not in the mood, he can quite easily bury the feeling for later, used to hardly having appropriate time to get off so having to ignore his arousal. I would guess you guys are doing it every morning and every evening most days, but this can change with your schedule and cycle. Special days eg. Birthdays, Christmas, Valentine's or anniversaries always include sex in the celebrations in Mike's book.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Mike is weird because sex in the morning energises him, but sex in the evening makes him doze off almost immediately. He can finish up with you and immediately head for work, and then later the same day be practically catatonic after orgasming, wrapping around you ready to sleep, groaning and complaining when you try to get him to move from the couch to his bed. It just depends on the time of day, but sex with you is definitely his new sleeping pill of choice.

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

hey you! want to get tagged in my work when it comes out? click here! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

[sinning-23]

Publicity Pt.7

Warnings: fighting, swearing, smoking, y/n can fight and Paula can too apparently, bathroom stall? makeout, cunnilingus, proper use of a tooth gap, hair pulling, crying and cumming but also crying cause you’re drunk, multiple orgasms, unprotected (wrap it up sluts), confirmed relationship, drunk sex? kinda? tipsy? IDK-

A/N: So this chapter is a hot mess and maybe 2D and y/n finally have that much needed discussion about what they are before shit gets any worse. I HOPE YALL ENJOY? SORRY THIS ONE TOOK ME A BIT-

P.S this one is for the 2018/2017 rap girlies (#raesremmurd, #migos, #y/n shakes ass)

Link to:

Publicity Pt.5

Publicity Pt.6

Enjoy!

“Baddie baddie shot o’clockkkk!” You slur, a wide smile over your face and Noddle giggles all the same.

The bass was booming, and the strobe lights of the club made the slight shimmer in the dress Noodle lent you shine like stars. At least that’s how you felt now 7 shots deep.

You feel so much lighter, an air of confidence and calm washing over you as liquor fills your system.

"Gotta hand it to Murdoc, not a bad idea coming out tonight," You admit with a slight smirk.

You can feel a set of eyes burning into you as you raise the next dark brown shot to your lips. He's watching you, standing against the wall across the way as Paula talks his ear off.

2D's disinterested though, a cigarette hanging from his lips as you swallow down the liquid. Your tongue slips out to lick your lips clean. He faintly shakes his head, briefly looking at Paula, who had stopped talking to sneer at you.

That shot was well earned, especailly after the car ride had you really pushing your limits.

-2 hours ago in the car-

You finally sit back, releasing your grip on the seatbelt as the radio plays. You feel your phone vibrate, the message from Noodle making you sigh.

🍜: I’m about to cuss him out,, why the fuck is she on his lap?!?!

With how hard you rolled your eyes you’re surprised you didn’t see the back of your skull,

Reply: Don’t know, don’t care. I’ll be too drunk to gaf in about 10 minutes

Paula leans foreward, making eye contact with you.

“So, you get around- I mean, get out a lot y/n?” She asks, your blood already boiling but you pride yourself on remaining calm.

“Don’t need to. Get around I mean, I usually can stay faithful to one person.” You hum, hearing noodle choke back a laugh.

“You seem to though, get around?” You speak again, Russel looking at you from the rear view mirror.

It’s a warning of sorts. He knows a fight is bound to break out at any moment. 2D huffs out a laugh which he covers with the clear of his throat.

“‘Scuse me? I-.” Paula’s got this grimace on her face, and the look is making you feel slightly better.

“Oh no you misunderstand. I meant you party often?" You hum, seeing her eye twitch.

The car parks, each of you stepping out and easily walking through the entrance. You can feel eyes on you, but you can’t tell who’s. Russel's because of the caride, Murdoc, because he knows whatever schemes he's got going is working, or 2D...because he can see just how pretty you look in that dress.

It doesn’t matter.

-Currently-

If someone didn’t scoop you up and toss you over their shoulder soon, you would surely be knocked out at the booth Murdoc swindled somehow. Speaking of which? That slimy fucker was nowhere to be seen, having eyes on this little blonde thing that walked in when you all arrived.

You knock back another, and the liquid starts to taste more and more like water.

“Listen, we need to go dance before we- oh my god y/n, LISTEN!” Noodle gasps, her hand grabbing your shoulder as you pause to try and hear better, eyebrows knitting together in focus.

The beat is somewhat ominous, the vocals coming in low at first over the crowd but you catch it, that bass hitting with the lyrics

Rack city bitch

Rack rack city bi-

You’ve never hopped out of your chair quicker, stumbling a bit but gripping Noodle's wrist as you both giggle wildly. The floor had filled up with several people each finding their own space to dance. You can't help the way your hips roll with each vibration of bass, your hands coming to rest on your knees.

The room is spinning, palms coming to hold your waist as you complete a successful body roll. You hope they're his, but you know it's not deep down. They don't feel like his. Don't rub little circles on your waist like he would.

Don't grip like his do.

The flash of cameras catches you off guard but again, you're too drunk to care. The media team would have to deal with it later.

"Damn mama, I didn't know you could do all that." The stranger speaks, your mind blocking his face out.

It didn't matter who he was...because he wasn't D.

"Yeah, anyway, Noodle?" You call, feeling yourself become irritated the longer he speaks.

"What's your deal, I'm tryna talk to you?" He scoffs, but you simply look through him in hopes of seeing Noodle's round glasses.

No luck.

"Okay, I don't care. I'm looking for my friend so move." You scoff back, pushing past him in a bit of a drunken haze.

The stranger smacks his lips and its also a miracle he doesn't make a bigger deal of the situation. You stumble to a wall, head spinning as you take a breath. Yeah that was fun but...it would've been better if it was him.

You curse yourself, looking around, your stomach sinking at the feeling of being alone. Noodle disappeared, Murdoc was gone, Russel, you couldn't even remember where the booth was...and 2D......

2D was probably being seduced by that wicked woman Paula and maybe she was sucking the fuckin soul out of him. Your eyes sting, the lump in your throat working its way out in small sobs as your eyes fill with tears.

Crying in the club? Seriously?

You try to hide in the darkened corner, trying not to ruin your makeup as your heart aches. You shuffle to the bathroom, drunken ladies much like yourself offering you comfort as you try to fix your melted mascara and eyeliner.

The washroom empties, leaving you alone in from of the mirror, overstimulated and ready to leave.

"Are you seriously crying right now?" She speaks, an amusement of sorts lacing her tone.

Paula stands at the sink beside you, applying a fresh coat of deep red lipstick.

"I mean, I would be too if I thought I had a chance at something serious with Stupot." She hums, mater-of-factly.

You can feel your fists balling up at your sides, the sober self-restraint you had dwindling.

"What's your problem? Why are you being such a vicious bitch!? You don't even know me!" You argue, stepping to her as she does the same, quite skilled at making you feel small.

"Honestly, I couldn't care less about you. But Stu, I think I got another chance with 'im. Murdoc seems to think so, and I want my spot in this band back." She admits, your eyes scanning her with rage.

"So you come and squeeze your ass where it doesn't fit? Didn't you want to go after Murdoc in the first place?" You rage, fists still clenched with the last, dwindling ounce of restraint you have left.

"I can have em' both. Stu is a lil.. well let's be honest daft, and Murdoc knows exactly what I wan' an' how to give it to me."

Your knuckles turn white.

"I doubt he'll make me leave the band, he's desperate." She explains, backing up from the mirror, and flashing a smile.

You're at a loss for words, anger boiling within you. Paula walks out, the click of her heels echoing down the hall. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. It's almost as if your reflection speaks to you.

"You're just gonna let that slide? Go fuck her up y/n."

You didn't need to be told twice, your strides were quick and focused, and the only thing on your mind was to wind up and let her have it. You spot her at the bar, her head turning towards you as your palm pulls back.

Whatever drink she had in her mouth went flying out.

She stumbles, reaching for a fistful of your hair and you yelp, taking each punch she throws while she drags you onto the main floor.

The flashes of cameras and the sounds of Nicki Minaj blaring only stimulate you more as you use your leg to kick her off you. Your arm swings full force, landing almost helicopter-like punches as you chant swears, your knuckles becoming bruised.

You can feel your eye pulsing and blood trickle down your lip.

Paula manages to flip you, her fist back in your hair as she lands more punches. Between heaves of 'Bitch, bitch, bitch" and "let me go hoe", the two of you hash it out and are way far less sophisticated than you anticipated.

-moments before disaster-

Stuart sits in the booth, cheek resting again on this palm as music booms through the club. He wasn't sure where you were, that was his biggest concern. Earlier he'd seen you sprint to the floor to dance and some dude had managed to wedge his way to you.

Yeah, it pissed him off but...was he really allowed to be upset right now? You two...weren't in an established relationship. He said he had feelings for you but that was it. Then Paulal showed up and things just felt tense.

The car ride pissed him off, why Paula decided to sit herself where you belonged, he didn't know. However. before he could protest you were already entering the car. He wanted to die right then and there, the look of utter irritation and betrayal written on your face made his heart sink.

And now, you're nowhere to be found...probably with that guy you were dancing with... He perks up at the sound of swearing, something that sounds like confrontation. The crowd seems to swarm to one spot and he can hear your voice, raging and heaving.

"BITCH! GET UP! GET UP!"

Russel, who had been sitting at the booth with him, was already getting up to go separate you from your opponent. He squeezes his way past, spotting both you and Paula beat up, the fight looking to have been pretty fair. The brunette's hair was knotted, red lipstick smudged, and glasses cracked. He doesn't know what to feel, tugging your back as you spit more insults through gritted teeth, lunging to attack her again as she does the same.

-currently-

You're unsure of who won because both of you were being pulled apart by either security or a stranger who just wanted to finish dancing and drinking.

"Wha' happened?!" 2D gasp, tugging you away as you spit blood at her feet, animosity clouding your vision.

"I'm sick of her ass that's what happened. She's a fuckin snake D." You explain, lurching forward as she shoots you a blood-filled smirk.

"Sure am you sleazy twat!" She seethes back, rage flashing in your eyes before you're pulled back again.

You're being dragged away faster than you can process, adrenaline still rushing through your veins as your knuckles twitch. You look up, only seeing a mess of blue hair.

Your stomach drops when you reach a neutral bathroom and when the door clicks locked.

"...D, I-I'm sorry I-"

"Stop. You go' a busted lip" He speaks shortly, running multiple paper towels under the faucet before ringing them out and approaching you.

The lights are dim and, your body beginning to ache now. The cold paper towel meets your lip and you avoid eye contact, silently awaiting something, anything.

"She fucking evil." You whisper, looking down at your shoes, only to have him lift your chin.

"You beat 'er pretty good though," He hums, taking care to not apply too much pressure.

Your head is still fuzzy, the room having a slight spin.

"I did? I was running on whiskey and rage." You giggle, seeing him smile faintly.

"Yeah, I thin' thas' enough for you for tha' nigh'" He explains, a slight frown replacing the brief smile.

"Are we okay?" He asks finally, giving you whiplash almost.

"W-What do you mean? I mean...I don't know. We don't have a label for this and Paula's been all over you. You haven't seemed too much against having her again." You speak tone albeit quite bitter.

When you finally tear your gaze from the tile floor and look up, he's already staring at you, hurt. Fuck that look...those stupid pathetic puppy eyes. Like he was lost and the only guide was you.

"What? No, I.- again? Who told you we-?" He's got so many questions he can barely complete the sentences.

"Murdoc. And Noodle gave me the rest of the details, but that doesn't matter. You didn't even stick up for me. Or dismiss her... or I don't know. But that's not your responsibility because we're not together."

"Oh..." He states simply, brows furrowed just as much as yours now.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn' think you...I don' know I thought that maybe that was only a one-time thing and you didn' wan' me hangin' all over yo-"

"Why would I want that?! Dude, I literally told you I didn't want to mess up whatever this was and you told me you had feelings for me. I want you!" You burst, eyes wide at your confession.

"You do? Though' that' guy you was dancing with was takin' up your attention." He states almost as if you're playing him.

How many trust issues did this guy have?

"Yes Stu, why would I lie. Why would I fucking fight with her over you? I've literally never done that before. Ever. And I was just trying to make you jealous! Kept wishing it was you..." You explain, lifting your bruised knuckles whilst shaking your head in disbelief.

"I want you." You reitorate, eyes searching his. He's not thoroughly convinced almost, his pitch-black hues scanning yours for a hint of malice, maybe even dishonesty.

He finds none.

You can't help but cup his cheek, feeling kinda stupid for the events of the night but it didn't matter now. Like magnets, the two of you pull towards one another, pausing for reassurance between your lips meeting.

He doesn't hesitate to close the gap.

Sobering, you pull him closer, your fingers lacing through the hair at the back of his neck and he whines.

You can feel his body envelope yours, his own hand mimicking your movements, one hand at your waist while the other guides your kisses, each deepening by the second.

Neither of you bother to pull away for air, puffs of air hitting your face as you maneuver to grip the collar of his shirt.

"Here? N-Now? Right now?!" He asks in a huff, face flushed and red under the dim lighting.

"Fucking, yes. Now." You insist, eyebrows furrowed, you pop each button one by one.

"W-Wait no you're drunk,' He gulps, gripping your wrists.

What?! No no no! Why give you that kiss and get you all worked up as if you weren't running off adrenaline? A whine leaves your lips and you rest your forehead on his chest,

"A-A little but please? Please I need you." You whimper, the strap of your dress sliding down.

"Love, you're not...you need to sober up. And I don't thin' you wan' this in a bathroom stall." He explains, pressing a kiss to your temple.

No convincing this one. You sigh, nodding before standing and using him for support. Your phone dings in your dress's pocket and with another heavy sigh you answer.

3 missed calls 7 new messagess 🍜: Who was that guy you were dancing with??? 🍜: Hey whered you go? Missed call from 🍜 🍜: Hey girl where are you? I think Paula finally left D alone you should talk to him 🍜: Girl answer your phone! Missed call from 🍜 🍜 : Holy shit there's a figth?! Two chicks- 🍜 : OH my god that's you?! AND PAULA 🍜 : Where did you and D go? We're outside in the car we need to bounce asap! Missed call from 🍜

You blink hard, glancing up at 2D who’s got one arm around your waist, the other keeping you steady, holding your free hand with care.

“We gotta go. Like now. I think everyone’s in the car.” You whisper, feeling your head start to hurt.

He nods, planting another soft kiss to your temple.

“I know, jus’ focus on keepin’ your balance.” He explains, doing his best to keep you guys along the darkened walls of the club.

Just outside was the bullet-hole-filled Camaro. Inside are Noodle and Russel. Both of them sitting front seat. You stumble down the stairs and into the car with a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorryyyy.” You groan, reaching for Noodle's shoulder as she lets out a breath of relief.

“Girl don’t do that again! I didn’t know where you were!” She scolds, gripping your hand with a scowl.

“I was looking for you but I couldn’t find you!” You explain, telling her about what had happened from the washroom all the way to the dance floor and the way up to the fight.

“About that, where’s Paula?” You ask, looking beside you as if she’d just appeared somehow.

“Quit I guess. Said she’s getting her stuff later and just caught a ride after you whooped her ass.” Noodle chuckles. Showing you clips of a video that was already posted on Instagram.

“Fuck, my media team is gonna kick my asss.” You huff, already thinking of what you’d be reprimanded for upon your arrival in New York.

You groan, eyes squeezing shut. You can feel 2D squeezing your hand, keeping you grounded as the car takes turns you won't quite remember by the morning. Speaking of which, you don't even quite remember how you got back to the studio so fast. Hell, you didn't even know how you got up the stairs and seated atop a soft mattress.

A mess of blue hair and a gentle touch remove your heels, each strap pulled off your sore ankles and feet before being set aside. He pulls bobby pins from your hair, each one clinking softly against the nightstand which held an ashtray and the blunt you two had smoked the prior.

Your head is clearing up now, at least a little and he raises a cup with a straw to your lips.

"You're treating me like a princess." You hum, using your free hand to cup his cheek.

He only smiles softly, setting the water aside before kissing you're forehead. What the fuck were you two? The dreaded forehead kiss?! You don't have time to question it because he's already out the door, reminding you that he'd be right back.

You swing your feet off the edge of the bed, the water helping keep whatever headache at bay.

It's dark, the only source of light being the faint glow of the bathroom. Standing, you clumsily walk to the bathroom, observing your state in the mirror, growing at the realization of how fucked your face was.

Mascara and eyeliner were smudged and melted over your eyelids, while the gloss you wore had long gone. In its place was a gash, dried blood surrounding the won't as you poke your lip out to inspect.

Glitter littered your cheeks and adorned the growing bruise there. Your eye's swelling had gone down so that was a plus... You sigh, looking briefly as 2D when he re-enters the room, catching your displeased look in the mirror.

"Got you some pajamas" He offers, offering a soft glace.

"Why don't you just let me wear one of your shirts?" You ask, pleading almost as he paused, but complies, guiding you back t the bed to sit.

He's careful, lifting your dress over your head, face flushing as the sight of your body. God you're just too pretty for your own good. There's a pause, the eye contact strong between the two of you and you cant help but crack first, your arms looping around his neck.

"Thank you, for taking care of me." You whisper, bodies melting together as he tugs this dress shirt of.

"Always. He states simply, your lips meeting again, and you can taste the remnants of a cigarette and butterscotch on his tongue.

The room is filled with soft gasps, mainly on your end as 2D practically caters to you, gauging your every move.

"Le' me make everythin' up to you darlin'" He states, not a question, more of a plea.

"Thought you said I was too drunk?" You recall, raising a accusatory brow.

"We're both drunk" He chuckles, the look in his eyes solely trained on you and filled with anticipation.

"I was jus tryin' t' be responsible'" He explains, seeing a slight grin take its place over your lips.

"Yeah right, drunk and responsible don't even go together." You huff, connecting your lips again as he happily accepts.

Downnn your neck he trails searng hot kisses, sences heightened by the last bit of alcohol still in your bloodstream

"Hey, you don't have to-"

"I want to, 'specially after everythin' yesterday and tonigh'." He explains, already at your waist, peppering kisses along the hem of your panties.

"You already made it clear I'm all you want...now it's my turn."

He nips at your thighs, the sting making you jolt.

Long, slender fingers curl over the waistband and tug the fabric swiftly down your thighs, over your knees, and off past your ankles. You can feel his breath just ghosting over your wetness, each puff of air sending a chill of anticipation down your spine.

He parts his lips, enveloping your folds with a slow, open-mouth kiss, taking time to close over your clit. You jolt again, this time a loud "Ah!" spilling past your lips. You can feel him smirk, and both hands come to rest against either of your thighs.

With brows knitted together in pleasure, 2D takes his chance to look at up at you from under his lashes.

So pretty.

Your head tiled back against the pillows, bruised knuckles turning white as you squeeze the sheets. It's almost impossible to look away as he eats you for all your worth. He particularly enjoys how your back arches off the mattress when he decides to push two fingers into you.

"FFFuck Stu, I-Im gonna cum," You speak breathlessly, more of a warning to him than anything.

"I know, can' feel you squeezin' down on me." He huff happily, curling his fingers in, up, and out again.

Its enough to snap the line of pressure that'd been building since he first slipped your dress off.

You lurch forward, hot, heavy moans rolling off your tongue in waves as he laps up your arousal, humming in satisfaction.

"So good love, you taste so good." He praises, peppering soft kisses over your core all the way back up to your lips.

Despite the exhaustion filling your body, you fight to keep going, still needing more.

Wanting more

"Need to feel you. Please, let me feel you." You beg desperately, tasting yourself on his tongue with each kiss.

"I know, I know love." He huffs, accent thick against your lip as he manages to slot himself between your legs, parted just enough to feel his bulge press against your sopping wet folds.

You've got a bruising grip on his shoulder, his lanky arm wrapping around your waist as he pushes his briefs down just enough to let his length spring free.

Still so pretty.

You're staring at it, mouth watering at the thought of having it in your mouth again. It's almost as if he can read your mind because, with a gap-toothed smirk, he captures your lips in a kiss just barely slipping the tip of his cock between your folds.

"Another time, f-fuck. Jus' le' me do this for you." He begs, whining mid-sentence at the contact.

He's warm against you, and you nod, eyes meeting his just before he pushes in.

The stretch, just as delicious as before has you sucking in a breath as he does the same. You're wrapped in one another, Your back against the pillows, arms slung around his neck now. 2D pulls your waist close, bare stomachs and chests touching as your legs wrap around his waist.

He rolls up into you, your bodies connected and burning.

"Yes, right there." You whine, burrying your makeup smudged face into his neck.

He huffs out a moan, back to gripping your waist with the hand that's wrapped around you. The other is tucked behind him, steadying himself with each upward roll of his hips.

"I've really got you this wet l-love?" He whimpers, each squelch sounding more vulgar than the last.

He rolls up hard this time, picking up his pace.

"Fuckkk yes, all you, all for you." You cry, sinking your teeth into his shoulder as he reaches the deepest parts of you.

Another thrust had your head tossing back, the moan tearing from your throat making him push again, lips kissing against your pulse. He sets a bruising pace, the echo of your bodies meeting over and over combined with the faint squeak of his bed.

"I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry I- fuck don't stop," You whimper, feeling him shake his head against your neck, his mouth coming to envelop one of your nipples.

Your eyes water, tears spilling past your waterline from the sudden overwhelming guilt mixed with far too much pleasure it almost hurt.

"Don' you dare apologize righ' now. You jus' focus on feelin' good. Le' me make you feel good." He instructs, every word he speaks and every upward plunges into you sending you closer to your peak.

He kisses your tears away, moving his hand from your waist to stroke your hair lovingly.

You can feel him stutter, that same focused look on his face from before written all over his face. It's almost impossible to not look down and admire.

His face is flushed red, eyes almost closed. He's got this knot in the middle of his furrowed brows, mouth trying to find a place between slightly agape with whimpers and moans, or tucking his lower lip between his teeth.

"W-Wait, love I-need to pull-"

"Don't. Don't, just let me feel you, Stu, please." You whine, nails clawing at his back, his slender frame sitting so perfectly in your arms as he fights against his better judgment.

"Shit, y/n you can't just- oh fuck!" He groans, hips trying their best to keep pace, fighting off his own high.

"Please? I'll beg so pretty Stu."

"L-Love, I need you to say it. Say it and it's yours." He huff seriously, trying his best to keep a standard pace as to not throw you or himself over the edge too quickly.

He reached his fingers down to pinch your clit, a yelp leaving your lips as you fix them to ask exactly what you need

"Please cum in me."

It comes out as a breathless whimper, the stimulation of his thrusts mixed with his fingers and the overall tension sends your second orgasm of the night washing over you like a tidal wave, the crash trapping air in your lungs.

"Fuckkkkk yes." He whimpers, your mouths meeting once again, each sound of your releases swallowed up amongst passionate, sloppy kisses.

Heavy breaths and slow-paced thrusts only let you hear how absolutely soaked you are, 2D slowly pulling out of you. The thick ropes of cum slide down past your thighs, his length coated in you.

You're tangle with one another, lips coming back in contact with passionate firey kisses, each one softer and more loving than the last.

"Y/n," He begins, holding your face in his hands, black eyes searching yours, the tip of his nose touching yours.

"You mean so much more to me than jus' a fuck. I want you t' know tha'. An' I don' wan' you to think I'm sayin' this cause we uh..we just- anyway, will you to be my girlfrien'? Officially?" He states, panic written in his features.

It's like he was worried you'd reject him, despite having explained yourself and your feelings already.

Your heart races in your chest, eyes searching his.

This was what you wanted…so why were you so scared to accept it. The invitation of affection and adoration from the singer you'd fallen for in the span of a month you'd been working on this god-forsaken album.

After dealing with his fucking boss...and his evil ex-girlfriend, what you wished for had finally fallen into your lap, literally. And it was holding you, searching your reaction with panic.

Your heart twists and flutters at the thought of being involved...while your stomach churns with fear. What would this mean when it was all said and done...

With the album somewhat finished, you'd be shipped off to New York again at a moment's notice. You'd become strangers even. The paparazzi would get a hold of it and twist your relationship into something...Your mouth hangs open, fear lacing the response.

"Yes."

AN: Heyyyy so I made a little taglist fr some of you that seem to be really enjoying this story so far! Thank you so much for the love and support and I hope you guys are ready for the last few chapters ass I wrap this one up!

Mini taglist: @wolflikesmp100 @washed-up-and-feeling-blue

@bunbun007 @starfire21 @pop-tart0

[themultifandomgal]

Jay Halstead- Your Job Will Be The Death Of You

The city of Chicago seemed to never sleep. Its streets brimming with the sounds of honking horns, the chatter of pedestrians, and the distant wail of sirens. It was alive. Jay Halstead had dedicated his life to serving and protecting its the people of Chicago. His fiancé YN worked a 9-5 job, meaning she spent a lot of time alone at home worrying about Jay when he was at work. She knew what she was getting herself into when she started to date Jay. She knew the risks. However Jay seemed to recently become increasingly more reckless.

Jay stood in the small cluttered break room, his fingers wrapped around a lukewarm cup of coffee. His body ached. A few hours prior Jay had been involved in a high stakes chase after a suspect who had fled from a robbery. The adrenaline had surged through his veins as he sprinted after the man, his partner, Detective Hailey Upton, hot on his heels. But in the chaos, Jay had taken a hard fall, twisting his ankle painfully as he collided with a moving car. The injury had forced him to sit out the rest of the pursuit, watching helplessly as Hailey and the others apprehended the suspect without him. It was a bitter pill to swallow, one that gnawed at his pride. As he sipped his coffee Jay's thoughts drifted to YN, his fiancé. As much as Jay has been trying to hide his work he could sense that YN's concern for his safety was growing. The door to the break room swung open and Hailey stepped inside, her expression of concern

“You okay Halstead?” she asked leaning against the counter “that fall looked rough”

“Just a twisted ankle” Jay replied. Hailey raised an eyebrow, unconvinced

“You know you don't have to push yourself. We can handle things without you for a bit” Hailey had started to notice how Jay seemed to have this need to protect everyone. Jay shook his head, the frustration bubbling beneath the surface

“It's not that simple. I can't just sit back and let you all do the work. It's my job to be there, to protect our community”

“I get it” Hailey sighed, her gaze softening “but you also have to think about your health. You know YN will worry if she finds out you're pushing too hard”

At the mention of YN, Jay's heart sank

“I think she already knows” Jay sighs Before taking another sip of his coffee, letting the bitter taste wash over him

“It must be hard for her. Just don’t give her any more reasons to worry”

YN had been home fore a few hours before Jay got home that evening. As he entered the apartment, the familiar scent of vanilla enveloped him. YN was in the kitchen, her back turned to him as she stirred a pot on the stove. The sound of boiling water and the soft clinking of utensils filled the air. He leaned against the doorframe watching her for a moment feeling a rush of affection. Moving off the doorframe Jay hobbled over to her wrapping his arms around her

"Hey, babe” smiled as she continues to stir the contents in the pot “wash up for supper” Jay hobbles over to the sink, YN turns to face him, her smile falters “what happened?”

“It's nothing” Jay replied forcing a casual tone “just a little mishap at work”

“Jay you know I can't stand it when you brush things off like that. What really happened?”

“I dint drink enough and felt dizzy during a chase today. I twisted my ankle. Nothing serious, but it kept me from doing my job” Jay sighs giving in

“Jay” YN groans “ you know I will never tell you to leave your job or anything, I know you love it, but you need to take care of yourself. The moment you’re not feeling good you have to stop”

I know, but”

“No 'buts, Jay” she interrupted, her tone firm “you're not invincible”

He felt the tension building between them, the familiar push and pull of their differing perspectives

“I get that, but I can't just sit back and let others handle it. This is my career, YN. It's what I do”

"And I understand that, but the way you’re going your job will be the death of you. I have always known there’s a chance you may not come home, but when you’re the one being careless… do you think I don't worry about you every time you walk out that door? every time you're in a dangerous situation? you're not just a cop; you're my fiancé. I need you to come home safe and at the moment it it’s like you have a death wish”

“It was just a sprained ankle” yes and last week it was a bruised rib. What’s next week? I can’t sit back and watch you end up in hospital because you’ve been shot because of your own stupidity”

“I'm doing my job, YN! I can't just stop because you're scared”

“I'm scared because I love you!” she exclaimed, tears brimming in her eyes “I’m not asking you to give up your job for me, all I’m asking is your more carful. I don’t want you to end up in a body bag” hearing this come from his fiancés mouth jay sits at the kitchen table with a sigh “I can’t loose you Jay, I love you”

“I know I’ve not been careful recently and I’m sorry. I can’t promise you that I won’t come home hurt, this is my job YN and I can’t give it up, but I promise that I will always fight to come home to you. I love you so much YN” YN takes a seat opposite Jay taking his hand in hers giving it a little squeeze

“Just stop running into danger like your Ironman and start looking after yourself. I have to you that your on top form when going to work”

“I promise. I’m sorry for worrying you” jay stands up and walks run to YN placing many kisses on her head. YN places her hand on jays cheek and rubs her thumb. For YN and Jay this conversation was the start of Jay taking his time and not running into the cross fire.

[keeksandgigz]

hi keeks! just passing by to share some eddie thoughts lolz

lately i’ve been thinking of having eddie be the first guy you give head to so you ask him to talk you through and he does!! (more like tries to) but who can blame him?? he’s trying not to blow his load in seconds while you’re trying to look up at him to see his reaction and make sure he’s liking it (which just turns you on cause he’s just moaning and throwing his head back and you can see him swallowing and and and)

anyway now that i’ve finally built up the courage to send you an ask i might keep sending more so i’m sorry in advance for the spam i might make during christmas break🙏🏻 also i’m sorry if something i said doesn’t make sense, english is not my first language lmao

thank u love!! send me all the asks ur little heart desires i'll have plenty of time to kill during christmas break <3

i honestly have no experience with being talked through my first blowjob lol i just kinda went for it. also this got a lil angsty/ fluffy i sorry.

obviously this is 18+ smut below the cut

"...but what if I like, bite it?" you say, looking up at brown eyes.

You're perched in between Eddie's hairy legs, on your knees in the uncomfortably thin carpet of his room.

Your elbows on his knees, head rested on your arm, looking at him. Fear? Nervousness? A little bit of excitement?

He's a towering mass of smattered curls, eyes shadowed by the bangs hanging low on his lids, covering the black tar pits that his eyes have become.

"You won't bite it, baby. Just keep your lips like this" he tucks his lips under the curve of your teeth, a silly smack of the lips, a quick open- close- like a fish- which makes you laugh.

He's good at this. At making everything seem easy, a lighthearted task. Not like you're giving your first blowjob or anything.

"You still want to do this, right?" he asks, petting your hair, sensing the nervousness vibrating off of you. You nod.

"Alright, sweetheart. Just let me know if you need to stop. Smack me on the leg or something, really hard" he huffs out a laugh. He may seem calm and cool but the truth is that he's literally about to bust.

You, gorgeous thing you, wanting to give him head? He gives himself the grace of five minutes (and that's a lot, still) before he cums all over himself.

So he sits there, dick out at full mast, as you work up the courage to take him into your mouth.

You switch between looking at him, then at his dick, then at him again. A subtle cry for help, as he grabs the back of your neck, cradling your head.

"It's alright, baby. You don't have to take all of it at once. I know it's a lot" he chuckles, helping you inch your head closer towards his pelvis.

You look up at him, and you feel yourself heat up at the sheer cockiness that statement alone had.

"C'mon sweetness. Open up" he whispers, "Baby steps, yeah?" he says, looking at you with the most utter devotion and a little endearment. You look so sweet looking up at him eager to please.

"Yeah" you weakly let out as you open your mouth, letting his tip nudge your tongue. He hisses. He had been waiting for this.

"The lip thing, baby. Like I told you" he says. You follow suit, tucking your lips over your teeth, still looking up at him for a sign, anything to show that what you're doing is right.

"Tongue, sweetheart. Use your tongue, please" he says, voice already strained and clouded by the sheer feeling of you holding his tip in your mouth. Feeling the slow rise and fall and jerks of your tongue under the head of his cock.

You follow his instructions and begin swirling your tongue around his tip, you cringe at yourself for thinking about the comparison your friends told you at school once. Like a popsicle. Oof.

You feel Eddie jerk in front of you. You swell with pride.

"Thaaaat's it, baby. Doin' so good" you shiver at the praise, continuing what you're doing as he takes a sharp breath through his teeth. He's not gonna last five minutes.

After a few seconds more of swirling your tongue, you decide to try what your friends have shown you countless times during sleepovers with a poor banana you didn't end up eating.

You begin to bob your head, taking more of Eddie in your mouth. A loud gasp escapes him as his tip begins to hit the back of your throat.

"Fuck yeah, sweetheart. Jus' like th-that" his hips stutter, making you take way too much of him int your mouth. Using another tip your friends gave you, you tuck your thumb in your fist, trying to not make yourself gag.

The trick reveals itself to be useless, as you feel bitter bile rise up your throat. Your throat makes a gagging noise, alarming you.

You push Eddie out of your mouth as you sputter and cough at the unfamiliar feeling. Tears begin to prick your eyes from the embarrassment.

"I'm s-sorry" you pant, the feeling of humiliation creeping up your cheeks.

He tucks himself back in his boxers and gets off the bed to quickly kneel in front of you.

"Shit, I'm sorry. baby. Should've been more mindful" he cradles your face, feeling your cheeks growing hot.

"I'm just not good at it" you say, huffing defeatedly, looking anywhere that isn't his sad puppy eyes.

"No, baby. That's just not true" he pouts "Baby steps, remember? Next time we can take it slow" he says, caressing the skin of your cheeks with his thumb. All you do is nod.

"Can you show me your pretty eyes, sweetheart?" you raise your head to finally look at him. He smiles, bright and joyful. "There she is" he whispers, placing a kiss on your nose.

"My friends are a bunch of fuckin' liars, I did the thumb thing to not gag and it didn't work" you laugh, resting your head on his shoulder.

"It's okay, baby, you won't even need that trick once you've done it enough times" he smiles against the crown of your head, giving it a gentle kiss.

[mythmerth]

from my December readings, I’ve collected a few more merlin fic recs for the people…

For favorite long (80k+) fic, I would have to choose Drink my Pain, Swallow Your Pride by Lex18. I’ve read another fic I love by this author and if you’re looking for just the most fan fiction fan fiction that hits the spot, READ. It’s got sexual tension, it’s got vampires, it’s got werewolves, it’s got familial secrets, its canon era, it’s everything you want to indulge in and more. I, for one, love the vampire Arthur agenda and please give me more 🙏🏻

For favorite mid length (30k-80k) fic, I would have to stretch the boundaries a bit and choose the 85k A Summer in Delphi by rotrude. I went on a spree of reading this authors work and their variety is amazing. This was full of self acceptance, beautiful love blossoming, some tears, and a whole mountain of emotion with the characters in a 1950s Greece setting. Definitely recommend!

For favorite short fic (<30k) I would have to pick this short smutty fic called Beware the River by I_ran_out_of_books. if you’re into some magical being (?) smut I definitely recommend, it’s a little wild but the concept is great (and, in my humble opinion, underused). A succubus/siren creature in canon era morphing into what Arthur desires the most, aka merlin, and then merlin seeing this go down? sign me up

I’ll fire off some other fics I enjoyed this month here~

You have got to be kidding me by Diamondmask, painful but still so good modern slice of life merthur fic. A LOT of up and down emotions with this guy

Two Hundred A Heat by SauraUnderscore, smutty modern omegaverse tropes for a quick and fun read

A West-Country Romance by rotrude. really had me so soft by the end, them being so desperate for each other gets me misty eyed. a great historical forbidden romance vibe

Midnight Dragon by rotrude also had such a fun premise, modern enemies to allies, opposites attracting, yummy yum yum

I’m 100% serious when I say I’ve read heaps of rotrude’s merlin fics this past month. if you don’t know what to read, go through their works! There’s 168 of them and they’re all unique and wonderful. I was hard pressed to not keep repeating their name over for my recs this month, and I guarantee they’re showing up in January recs again too!

For my favorite reread in December I’d have to go with Arcane Asylum by new_kate. It’s another popular one, but I started rewatching the show prison break recently and it got me in the mood for this kind of gritty modern magic fic. Merlin is extremely BAMF in this and Arthur is his grounding center. beware of the tags but it still is a great read if you haven’t checked it out!

That’ll be all for this month! I’ve been relaxing over winter without my computer so when I have access to that I’ll be making my list of my merthur 2024 fic recs. rest assured I have a lot to say and a lot to love, and I’ll be back in a few weeks with January’s recs too!

(which… god, if I keep up this pace the 2025 stats will be just as insane as the 2024 ones)

how insane, you may ask… Check out my 2024 merthur stats here!

want more recs? Check out some of my other posts!

<< prev month next month >>

[tinylongwing]

💖, 👏, 🍎 for the art/writing ask game?

💖 Which of your fics is your pride and joy? (and which artwork?)

I have too few published fics to really feel like one is my pride and joy here - but I am instead modestly quite fond of Al mal tiempo, buena cara as a neat little pre-canon thing.

@spectromagic knows what work of writing is my pride and joy but it is unpublished, unpublishable, and half her doing anyway lmao

For fanart, my current top favorite is the one I did for Halloween a couple years ago as part of a series of three. I'm so pleased with how I pulled off all the detail and just the raw disturbing energy of Johnnie post-blackbrain in this. I think it looks great, deserves more appreciation than it ever seems to get, and also I want more horror in this fandom in general.

For non-fandom art, it's so much harder to pick a favorite! But right now I'm feeling like it might be this piece of California Condors nesting in a giant sequoia to accompany an essay published in The Wildlife Professional a few years back.

🙌What's a line or paragraph of yours that you're proud of?

(I assume this is the question you wanted - this is a different clapping emoji vs yours but it's the only thing I see on the list that's clapping? lmao)

idk how to translate this to art but for fic/writing, man, that's hard. I'm going to go with Rigo's mental description of Dale under a street light not because I think it's peak literature but because it's cute. They're cute. I'm obsessed with them. They're adorable. I have tentative fic plans. I'm annoyed by how little I like the art I did based on this moment.

“They make their way toward the apartments. Past the fenced-in basketball court, past the murals, all fire and lightning that decorate the walls facing the street which advertise to anyone who passes by just who all lives and operates from this little cluster of housing. Once government subsidized, now a ramshackle fortress with two kings. It’s a funny thought to have right as they pass a street light on the way into the parking lot. The gold halo cast around Dale’s hair looks like a crown.”

🍎What's something you learned while researching for a fic?

(cut here because this got long but please do read if you have any interest at all in the LH world and our real world and how they intersect)

Now THIS is something I will definitely stick to writing for because I have so much to say. I have learned a lot doing research for art too, but oh my god, the amount of research I have done for writing and understanding and piecing together the elements of 1) US history, especially during the 50s-60s, 2) Chicano history and culture in LA, and 3) gang and drug culture and history. I have read books, I have watched documentaries, I've dug up redlining maps from different decades. It's fascinating. And it's horrifying.

I was born in the 80s and have never lived in Southern California so I really don't have firsthand knowledge about the time period and location this is all set in. Yeah, we all know the Vietnam War happened and yeah, we also all know that California used to be part of Mexico but like, everything that happened during and in between those broad points on a timeline fascinates me. I could go on and on. But that's the stuff that informs my writing and is so fun to then twist into that subtle supernatural horror going on in the LH world. I'll take this as an example:

Mandy reaches out an arm to signal a turn, and the two World Enders sweep down off the boulevard and toward the concrete pillars that mark the failed path of the 5 over Hollenbeck Park. Johnnie had only been a kid when development started and quickly halted, a consequence of neighborhood resistance and one too many accidents on the job site, as papers had put it at the time. And yet Johnnie remembers the day that the pond rose up in one dark wave with more water than it had ever held, and swallowed the concrete whole. That scared off the city developers more than the anger from the community had ever done.

So, one of the things modern Los Angeles is known for are its freeways, right. It's the terminus of Route 66, maybe the last of the great highways before the freeway projects started. LA was kind of a backwater for a lot of history but once the population boomed they had a sudden need for roads - huge roads that could move a ton of people, trucks, supplies, oil, military stuff, etc.

LA was also monstrously redlined (as were most cities, and as are most cities even if they'd prefer not to admit to it). Entire areas were for Blacks only, or for Mexican immigrants only, etc and realtors wouldn't give loans for those areas, wouldn't let nonwhite people move to homes not in those specific areas. "East of the river," as Johnnie indicates the location of their underground clubhouse in Vide Noir, specifically signals that they're hanging out in one of these major redlined areas that is actually a thriving Hispanic community, probably somewhere vaguely Boyle Heights (as supported by the views of the specific bridges we get in the movie, and suggestions of cruising/lowrider culture like in the Long Lost teaser clip for Not Dead Yet).

(view of the LA river with multiple bridges spanning it close together, from Vide Noir as Buck walks around looking for the underground clubhouse - this appears to have been shot near 6th street, aka Whittier Boulevard, famous for lowrider cruising in Boyle Heights)

(Map of Los Angeles today, with a red X marking the approximate location of the above shot, with an arrow indicating the camera is facing south. Look directly east of the river and see how many massive freeway interchanges were put right through huge chunks of Boyle Heights.)

(Los Angeles redlining map, 1939. The large round red blob on the center right side is Boyle Heights. Red = "hazardous", high interest rates, no home loans available, etc because these were primarily nonwhite areas of the city)

LA didn't start off having freeways, and they have an enormous ground footprint. They needed to put roads in, and they needed to demolish entire swaths of existing, thriving neighborhoods in order to put those huge roads in, so they picked communities to destroy based mostly on those redlining maps. Black communities, Latino communities, were ripped apart, bulldozed, demolished in order to make way for the new roads.

Now, look up to my google maps section there. See that patch of green just left of the words "Boyle Heights" that has a freeway right on top of it? That's Hollenbeck Park, the one mentioned briefly in the fic in that paragraph I pasted.

Once described (~1890) as the most beautiful park in Los Angeles, with an idyllic, serene lagoon, they fucking... put a freeway through it in the 1950s. Because freeways gotta go somewhere! So how about right here! In this one lovely park! That'll be great, those people don't deserve nice things anyway!

Fuck, man.

So in my LH-ified version of reality, where sometimes the land itself has power from being full of its centuries of ghosts and community and hopes and dreams and death and destruction, the park consumed this construction project. The lake stands. The people fought back, they got in the way, they did their best to prevent this, and when that wasn't quite enough, the waters of the lake rose up and swallowed the scaffolding, destroyed the initial concrete pillars, probably killed a good few people in the process on either side because they happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The city decided at that point it probably wasn't worth it to put the freeway right there after all (so they moved it a few blocks at most).

And when I write this stuff, like, Johnnie isn't really conscious of the history or the right- and wrong-doings himself, he doesn't really have it in him to care, but the city remembers. The land cares. The history is all right there just under the surface.

Anyway that's the kind of research I do that winds up being like, tiny elements of worldbuilding in a fic about drug use and existential dread.

[conanssummerchild]

my opinion on luke and jess's reunion (argument, talk? i don't know what to call it) in 'A Family Matter' (s4 e12) line by line, because i'm rewatching it for the 186th time and i have a lot of opinions.

disclaimer: i do love luke mostly, but he pisses me tf off sometimes

L: Well, look who's back.

J: I'm just here to retrieve my property.

L: Got a lot of nerve.

HOW does Jess have a lot of nerve in this situation?? Like I can't possibly think of a single way this could be twisted to make him the bad guy 😭 it really pisses me off how the show acts like Jess is in the wrong here. Rory has more right to be mad at him because he really did treat her pretty terribly in the episodes leading up to him taking off and then there's obviously the running away without so much as saying goodbye. Again. But Luke? Get off your fucking high horse, you have no moral high ground here. How about you swallow your pride and admit you kicked out your 18 y/o nephew when he had no one else and needed you more than ever?

J: You've got a lot of nerve.

L: How so?

J: You stole my car! Coop should've arrested you. Why didn't he arrest you?

L: Free donuts.

J: Beautiful.

L: So, you got anything you wanna say?

J: You could've washed it once in a while?

L: Okay, fine, the car is yours, our business here is done, hasta la vista, have a nice life.

J: Our business here is not done. My car is wrecked because of you.

L: Oh yeah?

J: Three of the tires are leaking, it's got no oil, the floats in the carburator are probably cracked, so it's backfiring like mad-- I mean people were ducking when I was driving by. Then it stalled and wouldn't start.

I know nothing about cars so I can't comment on this, but I LOVE Milo's line delivery of "People were DUCKING when I was driving by." he's such a cutie. that's all.

L: Well, you can find Mr. Goodwrench in the yellow pages, I think it's under M, or is it G? I can never tell with those kinds of things.

J: You're paying for the repairs.

L: Oh, don't make me laugh.

J: It's broken because of you.

L: That thing was a piece of junk to begin with, the paint's the only thing holding it together.

Was Jess's car old and beaten up? Yes, but I think that that matters so little rn because it's not about how good the car is it's about the fact that it was JESS'S car. He worked hard for that and saved up for it with his own money and he clearly cared about it a lot. The fact that it was a crappy car does not matter, it matters that it's his car and it's broken because Luke literally fucking stole it.

J: And the expired registration? I'm gonna have to pay a fine.

L: So I guess it didn't work out with your dad, huh?

Woah, talk about insensitive. Obviously it didn't work out with his dad, which must have been incredibly painful for Jess, and Luke is now throwing it in his face? Not cool. I know he's mad and aiming to hurt, but this feels too far. Jess should've responded with "My dad may not want me, but at least he's alive." /j Rip William Danes.

J: Worked out fine.

L: So what are you doing back east, buddy? Still searching?

J: Been travelling.

L: Well, thanks for all the swell cards and letters you sent while you were away.

This is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. Whether you believe that Luke kicked Jess out or that Jess got himself kicked out, it's undeniable that things did not end on good terms. Jess is obviously hurt and angry at Luke and Luke is not his parent (ever) or guardian (anymore), Jess had no obligation to write to him, morally, legally or otherwise. If Luke was worried he could've made the tiniest effort and tried to reach out to Jess or Jimmy, since he seemed to know where Jess went, and show he still gave a crap. I also understand why he didn't do this, however he shouldn't expect Jess to do so either.

J: You kicked me out! What were you expecting, a candygram?

L: I didn't kick you out, you got yourself kicked out.

J: Nice spin, you should work for Bush.

L: So what'd you get out of this Kerouac trip of yours? You write the great American novel? You learn to play the harmonica?

Playing the harmonica is just weird enough that I can sort of imagine Jess doing it LOL.

J: What do you care? You're not my guardian anymore.

L: And I bless every day that I'm not.

Yikes. I think Luke needs to smoke some of that pot he took from Liz earlier in this episode because he needs to chill immediately. Sidenote: can you imagine Luke and Jess getting high together? LOL

J: Well, when you're not good at something, it's best to cut and run.

L: Oh, sorry I tried to give you a decent life, Jess. Sorry I didn't think driving a forklift for the rest of your life was good enough for you.

I think that here it's the same as Jess's car. Working at Walmart may not be the greatest job ever, but at least Jess is trying to do something with his life and he's earning money. He was eighteeen, he still had time to figure shit out, and if he wanted to drive a forklift for the rest of his life would it really be that big of an issue? Also how is kicking him out and him being all alone and homeless with no one to help him at eighteen better than him being safe with Luke and working at Walmart? Makes no sense.

J: Oh, that is condescending, isn't it? I thought you were a friend of the working man.

L: Oh, that sister of mine, what a prize. What a prize.

Only thing me and Luke agree on in this conversation. Fuck Liz.

J: What does she have to do with any of this?

L: I tell her about the car, she runs and tells you-- that's what happened, right? And her claiming she had no contact.

I don't remember Liz saying explicitly that they had no contact. She said she hadn't heard from him for a while, but she didn't say they were actively not talking. That's more of a nitpick than anything else though, sorry.

J: Again, the car is mine! Liz was doing the right thing, that's what family does.

You know things are bad when your closest family member right now is Liz Danes. /hj

L: Family? What a joke coming from you.

Ouch. I think Luke went way too far with this line, it's probably one of the most hurtful things he's said in the whole show imo. It's not like it's Jess's fault that his family is full of flaky deadbeats, and also this is an untrue statement imo because Jess does seem to crave a family, when his dad shows up he wants to know him and he even goes all the way to California to stay with him, it's implied that him and Liz are on okay terms again post season 4 even though Liz made no effort to apologise or make ammends, so I think we can assume that's all Jess's doing, a few episodes from here he shows up at Liz's wedding for Luke because he asks (well, demands) him to. Family matters to Jess, he just doesn't seem to matter to his.

J: Go clean your counters, I'm tired.

Lame comeback but I'll give him a pass because Luke's comment must have hurt.

L: So, you staying in town?

J: I don't know of any 24-hour auto shops around here, do you?

L: Well, you're not staying with me.

Wow, this just keeps getting worse.

J: Didn't cross my mind.

L: Get it fixed quick.

J: Believe me, no one wants it fixed faster than me.

L: You stay away from her while you're here.

And now it just gets ridiculous. In the last few months Jess has: gotten his car stolen, flunked out of high school, met his dad for the first time ever in seventeen years, gotten kicked out by his uncle, travelled literally across the country to meet his dad only to have to beg him to let him crash with him for a month, promptly having gotten kicked out by his dad/had to leave we can assume (which makes it so that all three of Jess's parental figures have now bailed on him. Jimmy twice) and has assumedly had to find some way to get by since then; and Luke thinks RORY is high on his list of priorities right now? Be fucking for real.

J: Stay away from who?

L: You know who I mean.

J: Gee, you're so cryptic.

L: You've done all the damage there you're gonna, okay?

For god's sake. I'd say arguably Dean did more damage there and is going to do even more in a few episodes, but no, Jess is an evil monster and Dean is the perfect boyfriend, never mind how Rory was afraid of Dean.

J: I'm here to get my car, and then I'm gone.

L: Where are you staying?

J: Backseat's as comfy as anywhere.

L: Fine.

Where do you expect him to stay, Luke? it's not like he has any other friends in town or the money to rent a hotel room or, god forbid, a room in his ex's mother's inn. Now that would be an entertaining disaster to watch.

okay, it's one in the morning and i have to wake up early tomorrow. i also wanna analyse lorelai's attempted psychoanalysing of jess in N&N/S&N (the porch scene) but right now may not be the moment lol, bye

[queenshelby]

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 38: DANIELLE'S STATEMENT

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Pregnancy Loss, Infertility

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

Cillian took the phone from Nina, reading the article out loud to you both. His face grew grim as he absorbed the contents, his expression mirroring your unease. You exchanged looks, knowing this was going to be a problem.

"Well, there's no denying it now," he muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

You bit your lip, trying to decide how to handle the situation. You felt your cheeks heat up as you imagined the consequences of what this may mean for you both. Not only was this humiliating for Cillian just before the BAFTAs, but also did it jeopardise your relationship with him, especially since, until now, he did not know about how you made your money in the past.

Cillian looked conflicted, torn between whether or not to address the situation, but you decided to break the silence first. 

"I did not mean to hide anything from you, Cillian but I was and still am utterly embarrassed by this," you said, tears welling up in your eyes.

"So, it is actually true?" Cillian asked with surprise, thinking that the tabloids had made up a story to make you look bad.

"Yes," you said, and this statement took courage, given the secrets you had kept thus far especially in front of Cillian's 14-year-old daughter Nina who, too, had to hear why you did what you did at such a young age. "It started when I was 16 actually. Not when I was 18. It was illegal but, when I went to high school, my forester parents didn't support me. They used the money they were given by the state to buy drugs and alcohol, so I needed to find a way to finance my studies. I worked at a strip club to pay for my tuition fees. It's not something I am proud of, and I have been trying hard to forget about it ever since," you explained, causing Cillian to swallow harshly before cupping your face.

"I am so sorry Cillian," you began to cry, and Cillian quickly shook his head. 

"Don't be, Y/N. I don't care where you come from or what you did. You are smart, beautiful, and funny. And I love you. That's all that matters to me," he replied earnestly, making you smile weakly through your tears.

Cillian caressed your cheek with his thumb, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "But I am sorry that you had to endure such shit upbringings and now have to endure this rubbish as well," he went on to say, his voice gentle yet firm. "We'll get through this together, okay?" he suggested, and a lump formed in your throat as you nodded, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand.

"This will look so bad for you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Cillian winced, looking genuinely hurt by the mention of his age. "I don't care what it looks like," he assured you. "What I care about is who you are, not where you're from or what you've done. If people can't see that, then they're not worth worrying about," he then reassured you before he drew you into a fierce embrace, his words offering solace and reassurance. 

You hugged him back, feeling your emotions spilling over. "Thank you, Cill. This means a lot to me," you whispered into his chest, and Cillian squeezed you tighter, his own heart swelling with pride and protectiveness.

Nina cleared her throat, breaking the tender moment. "I'm really sorry for interrupting you guys, but we need to talk about this. You are not going to let this slide, are you?" she said, gesturing towards the magazine. 

Cillian reluctantly released you, allowing you to compose yourself before speaking again.

"Look, it doesn't change anything between us," he pointed out to his daughter, trying to put her mind at ease before turning to you.

You nodded, trying to swallow down the lump forming in your throat. Silently, you agreed hesitantly, still processing the newfound information.

Cillian wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him. You took a deep breath, letting Cillian's warmth seep into your being.

"Can you say something back, dad?" Nina asked, her tone curious. 

"To the press?" he asked rhetorically, raising an eyebrow in response to his daughter's question.

Nina scoffed, rolling her eyes in annoyance. "They always do this kind of thing. You're just an easy target because of your age difference with Y/N. Otherwise, no one would have cared. You need to make a statement or something," she commented, crossing her arms defensively.

Cillian sighed, running a hand through his hair once more in frustration. He despised engaging with reporters and gossip like this, but it seemed necessary in order to protect those closest to him - including you.

"Fuck," he cursed before picking up his phone from the bedside table and making a call to his publicity agent.

"Liam, listen. There's an article in OK! Magazine that you need to address. Can you please call me back?" he spoke sharply into the receiver, leaving a message for him. 

"Cill, I don't care. Don't do this for me," you told him after he hung up, but Cillian seemed determined. 

"But I care Y/N. This entire article is nonsense," he insisted, holding your gaze with intensity as he brushed his fingers through your hair, giving you a reassuring smile.  

"Just trust me on this, okay? Please," he requested softly; his eyes full of sincerity and you hesitated before finally nodding.

***

Several days later, and much to your surprise, you found yet another article about Cillian and you just as you packed your bag for your impending trip to London.

This article held a much different tone, and you were sure that Nina had something to do with it. 

Title: Cillian Murphy's Ex Danielle Speaks Out: "I'm Happy for Him and Our Kids"

In the world of showbiz, love knows no boundaries. And when it comes to the mesmerising actor Cillian Murphy, the news of his blossoming May-December romance with dance teacher and performer Y/N Y/LN raised a few eyebrows due to their 22-year age gap and Y/N’s troubled past. But fret not, dear readers, as the acclaimed actress Danielle Murphy, is here to set the record straight and endorse their relationship!

In an exclusive interview, Danielle Murphy opened up about her ex-husband's relationship, highlighting the wonderful role that Cillian’s new love interest plays in their lives. As it turns out, Y/N not only teaches dance, but she is also the instructor to Danielle and Cillian's daughter Nina who has built a strong relationship with her father’s new and much younger girlfriend.

"Dance has always been a big part of Nina's life, and I couldn't be more thrilled that Y/N teaches and mentors her," Danielle shared with a warm smile. "When you're co-parenting, especially with teenagers, having a positive and welcome addition like Y/N is truly a blessing."

It's heartwarming to see the understanding and maturity that exists between Danielle and Cillian, as they manage to navigate their separate lives while focusing on their children's well-being. The ex-couple's unwavering support for their children's passions has ultimately created a harmonious environment for all involved.

In her statement, Danielle strongly emphasised her happiness for Cillian and the joy he has found with Y/N. "Cillian deserves nothing but love and happiness, and if Y/N is the one that brings it to him, then so be it," she expressed. "I trust his judgment, and I trust that Y/N is a wonderful person who will genuinely cherish him as much as he deserves."

As a mother, Danielle emphasised the importance of her children's well-being and happiness. "At the end of the day, my children's happiness is my top priority," she stated sincerely. "And from what I can see, Cillian has found someone who genuinely cares for them which, ultimately, is everything I could ever ask for.”  

Indeed, this supportive stance from Danielle shows not only her maturity but also her immense love and respect for her soon-to-be ex-husband as the couple works through their divorce. It is truly commendable how ex-spouses can put aside any grievances for the sake of their children's happiness.

As the gossip mill churns, it's important to remember that love seems to know no boundaries. With Danielle's blessing and Cillian's unwavering support, Y/N finds solace in knowing they have won the hearts of those closest to Cillian and the children. These two individuals have gracefully risen above public judgment and are committed to prioritising love, family and the happiness of their children.

So, let's raise a glass to this modern family and their ability to find joy and harmony amidst the prying eyes of the world. Cheers to Cillian, Danielle, Y/N, and their beautiful blended family!

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie

[littledollll]

hey sweetheart :'3 I was wondering if you were taking request. If you are would you be open to do a Lucifer x little angel reader. I just love your little fic if these and I'm always looking for more if them. I think I've read them all tho. So my idea was that maybe Lucifer and reader could have a fight I'll let you decide why. Then reader decide to go hide from Lucy and our favorite god starts panicking and all. Over all just really cute stuff 😊😊💖 Thank you for reading and have a nice day bby💕

The Gardens

Lucifer Morningstars x Little!angel!reader

A/n: man i just hope this is half decent. Got a little motivated to write about this idea when I got the request which made me very excited! I rarely let us see when R isn’t regressed which is kinda the point? But I think insights like this are really fun to write! (May 6)

A/n pt 2.: finishing this July 21 at 3am, where did I go wrong? I’m so sorry I took so damn long it’s insane bc i don’t even notice time passing. I was looking back at my old fics and noticed I’m always writing R going to sleep? I love that cuz some of my friends actually call me “sleepy” because apparently I’m always tired. (I am)

Warnings: a little arguing, Lucifer says some hurtful things, not much else. Just some sweet fluff after the hurt.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

“Im the judge here. I alone decide the punishments and how souls will be handled. You might be my partner but you hold no power over me or hell. These are not your decisions to make or have a say on.” It was an angry spew of words. Lucifer doesn’t like having their authority challenged and you were the one person who could do that. For the first time, your own opinions were voiced in their work, and Lucifer didn’t seem willing to listen or like it at all.

Never in your time living in hell had you and Lucifer clashed about something so much.. it hurt, not to be ironic but it hurt like hell. Lucifer had never spoken to you in such a way. Never before had they used their intimidation tactics on you.

Lucifer being unnecessarily stubborn didn’t help at all, as they refused to actually listen to your opinion or swallow their pride and compromise. Or simply speak to you like an equal. Their words almost stung. “You have no power here.” That’s what they meant. And you couldn’t bear to listen anymore or even respond after that.

After a certain point you just gave up and walked away, leaving whatever they were about to spit back, in the dust, mid-sentence, and then ending up with a confused shocked expression. No one gets to just walk away from The Devil.

The worst part was that you wanted to run to them. As if words and a voice laced with venom hadn’t just been thrown in your face. As if they’d protect you even from their own self. They’ve always been your safe space, your comfort.. but you couldn’t, not today, not after your argument.

At first they were fine with you just walking away. They admit to being stubborn and hard to talk to.. everyone needs a little space to think sometimes, right? But then hours and more hours passed and you still refused to show.. it’s like you were hiding from them. There’s nothing Lucifer hated more than the thought of that. Did they really mess up that badly? That you, the most forgiving and lovely being they’ve ever met, simply refused them?

They couldn’t possibly leave it like that. Let you believe they think regularly of you, like you aren’t the most important being in their life, like you aren’t their special angel. So settling their pride aside accompanied with a bit of anxiety, they set out to find you.

You had gone to your safe space.. hiding away physically and mentally, letting your much calmer but also a lot sadder, little self take control.

Lucifer searched high and low for you, all around the palace, going as far as to actually ask for help looking. And thankfully it occurred in their mind that there was always one place you went when you seek comfort, and that was the little hidden gardens of the palace.

And there you were. Quietly sitting by their most recently planted flowers, daisies in fact. They always claimed those flowers suited you perfectly, not just the look, but the meaning. Which included purity, innocence, new beginnings, joy and cheerfulness. All things they saw in you. All things they loved about you. But of course there’s more, so much more that they love.

“My angel..” their voice was a complete contrast to their earlier attitude. Cautious as they approached you but still with a rush to have you close. Lucifer was unsure you’d ever forgive them, but there was no way you could possibly resent them, maybe you should have, but it wasn’t in your heart to reject them, so you let them approach without scurrying away.

Lucifer got down to your level, kneeling down on the floor and holding their hands out for you, which you immediately took, being pulled into a tight hug, their wings wrapping around you, effectively hiding you from the world just because they knew you loved it so much. They pressed a kiss to your forehead before hugging you close again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my sweet angel…”

Not knowing how to respond, you nodded just a little as you nuzzled close to their shoulder, basking in the warmth and comfort of their hug. “I should’ve never said that.. never. And I promise you I didn’t mean a single word of it. I’m.. I’m in no way excusing myself, and my awfully hurtful words- but I’m just not used to this, angel..”

You could understand that.. there’s no being of higher power here in hell, even in the universe actually, no one but them and the very God that created and banished them. They’re not used to being challenged or disagreed with, and ever the sinner they are also quite prideful, even as an angel. “I’ve done this alone for so long.. of course there’s other lords.. and Mazikeen. But not even they step in when it comes to my decisions, and when you did- I felt questioned. Which I recognize should be much more frequent than it is, but it’s a new thing, and I responded very wrongly to it.”

Not for a moment did the soft tone leave their voice, a mere whisper as they hugged you and refused to let go. They’d apologize for eternity if you so requested it. But even in your headspace you could appreciate them taking accountability, and recognizing that it was wrong. Not just that it caused a bad reaction from you. “I’m working on it, I promise. Your opinion does matter to me, In whatever situation, your voice matters to me.”

It hurt, of course it hurt. But Lucifer is always sincere in their word, and they were willing to work together, that’s all that mattered to you. So you quite adorably mumbled out a little, ‘I forgive’, as you rest your chin on their shoulder. And Lucifer couldn’t be happier. “Thank you, my sweet angel.. but also, you can’t hide away from me like that, tiny. You had me running all over the palace looking for you like a maniac!” They said in a more playfully, less serious tone as they chuckled.

“Let’s make a deal, yeah?.. if anything of the sort ever happens again, can I trust that you’ll be in your little room? Even if we’re a little upset at each other I always want to know that you’re safe. I understand needing a moment to decompress and think, that certainly helped me a lot today. But I’d just like to know you’re safe and that we can talk when we’re ready to, how does that sound?” You giggled as their voice took a more playful tone and you nodded, moving away a little to look at them, an adorable little smile painted on your face. “Deals!!” You said, rather excited despite the topic.

Of course you were aware that it was indeed quite possible to run into more arguments and disagreements like this, and even more that you’d slip. But knowing how much they care for you and love you, how much they worry and want you to be safe was quite reassuring that no matter what problems you ran into there wasn’t a thing you couldn’t surpass with just a little talking and cuddles.

They nodded, placing a soft kiss on your temple and deciding just then to take a moment and sit outside with you, which was rare, for reasons neither you or they could quite place. “It’s a deal then..” they replied with a soft tone, and you could hear their smile as they spoke. It was surprisingly quiet, oddly peaceful being out here with you. They scolded themselves for not doing this sooner and made a mental note for next times.

Of course your regression was still a secret and hell can be a dangerous place but the gardens are safe enough, specially with Lucifer and your hound friend who always stayed near. After a few moments, your voice interrupted their train of thought. “luci likes birdies?” The question seemingly came out of nowhere which made them chuckle a bit. “I do. What’s going on in that cute little mind of yours to ask me that, sweet one?” Their tone was obviously amused.

“No birdies in hell! Want one.. like morphi!” It seems your mind was running elsewhere, curiosity of things you always wanted to question but didn’t. “You could have one.. how about a dove? Just like you are my little dove.” Lucifer smiled and placed a little kiss on the tip of your nose, making you giggle and shy away. You were quick to nod and respond with a slight tone of awe. “Dovs pretty!”

“As are you!” Lucifer was never one to make spur of the moment decisions.. well- not at least until you came along. But how could they ever say no to you? The little angel wants a hound and a dove, so let’s get them a hound and a dove. Lucifer sighed, not in an upset manner nor exhaustion. More so in content, amused with themselves for being so susceptible to you. “Well then. Looks like my little dove is getting their own..”