#but MAN do i wear it ALL THE FUCKING TIME

[ghost-proofbaby]

thinking about Eddie being so eager to kiss you all the time and he just gets a little too excited sometimes a little too rough and you bump into something and he cradles you while you giggle cause he can't stop smiling into his kisses

And sure maybe it's a little awkward and teeth knock against each other and he catches your lip in his teeth a little too hard but it's okay cause you're deliriously happy

And it's not about getting to the sex (not all the time anyways) but he's just so happy to have found a safe place to land and he's enthusiastic that he found someone who wants to kiss him just as much as he wants to kiss you

And this time he's not too much and his feelings aren't too big and he doesn't need to tone it down cause you're his person and he's yours

Okay bye ily

mouse. mouse get the fuck back here. MOUSE DONT LEAVE ME LIKE THIS

he's just so happy to have a safe place to land and this time he's not too much and his feelings aren't too big were daggers straight to my heart you come back here right now before i actually bleed out from needing this man so badly.

no but thats exactly it. eddie has spent so long jumping and toeing that line of either trying to cram himself into this bite-sized shape for the ones around him, and just exploding and pretending he doesn't give a fuck that he will never fit into anyone's cup of tea so he'll just make himself even larger, that when you enter his life he just doesnt know what to do about it.

because he starts with his regular tricks of being so over the top, so unbearable, and all you're doing is laughing and entertaining his antics. even playing along at times. and so he retracts a little, turning back into a quiet boy who will shrivel up until he's invisible or easy to love (whichever comes first). but then that doesn't work - and to be truthful, he doesn't even know what his mind's end goal is here because why is he trying to push you away so desperately? - and he's just at a loss. you want him on the thundering days, where he makes his grey clouds everyone's problem and all his lightning is blinding and sporadic. you want him on the quiet days, where the downpour is no longer a roar but a soft drizzle, a bit more silent and a bit more bearable but still there. and he can't tell if it's a joke - he can't decipher if your kisses amidst his rambles are sincere, if you're actually smiling at his jokes because you like him or you're too polite to break his heart. he can't see through those gentle hands you use to caress back his wild hair to be sure that the softest of touches are really just you, or some strange gloves of care that you're only simply wearing for now.

and then one morning, he wakes up, and you're still there, awake before he is and just watching him with so much love. feather-light fingers taking their time tracing over his tattoo on his chest and arms, not noticing he's awake yet as you smile so serenely at him. you're looking at him in a way that he's never really gotten to experience so vulnerably before - like he isn't a nuisance, isn't a mistake. like the universe has so intentionally dropped him into your palms, and you're so aware of how delicate he can be below the surface. and he just breaks.

"i love you"

he'd blurt it out, the first time he's ever said those words to you. it almost feels like the first time he's said those words, period.

he's said them to wayne, in their own way, both a bit stiff in expressing affection and skirting around those words whenever they can for a simply ruffle of hair or unexpected side hugs. he'd said them to his mom, a young boy with shining eyes despite it all, looking at her like she was the world because she was his world.

and... well. that's it. he can count the number of times he's said those words on one hand, and now he's said them to you, and all he can hope is you handle them with as much care as you've handled him.

he hopes you can feel the weight of his heart pressing down on them.

and he thinks you do, when you startle a little, looking up to his lips where those rough words had just fallen from in a cracking tone, and you take your time in awarding him with a smile that could save lives. cure cancer, cure sadness, cure the end of the world even. every cliche possible.

"yeah?" you'd whisper back, and his heart skips a beat, terrified that the next words you say won't be what he needs to hear so desperately. but they are. because of course they are. you wouldn't have been watching him sleep in that way if they hadn't been on the tip of your tongue, "i love you."

not a crash landing, but a soft-padded decent. a slow fall with a cushion to prevent broken bones and more invisible scars.

he kisses you then the way he was going to kiss you every day going forward: pushing forward recklessly, teeth and noses bumping a little, smiles making it nearly impossible. he kisses you like he's coming home after a long day, because he is.

he's home. no boxes in sight to fit into, no cups that'll overflow from all the fizzling feelings pouring out of his chest. you've got him, and he's got you.

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

Omg, I read and reread your fitness influencer x chubby cooking influencer like five or six times already! Would you consider writing more parts to it, please?

Omg i would love to, lemme cook for a sec sksksk

CW: chubby fem cooking influencer reader x fitness influencer fave, fluff, smut, mentions of internet trolls being mean, not proofread i am sorry sksksk

So, chubby cooking influencer reader and fitness influencer

A match made in heaven tbh sksksk

But it's very normal at first! Like i said in my original post, reader and fitness influencer (i.e. your fave) just start the relationship with simple conversation

Your likes, dislikes, hobbies, interests, you chat about it all on social media!

His instagram has a lot of tagged photos of your recipes that he tries, as well as photos of him at the gym

His youtube is mostly vlogs of his days as an influencer and workouts and all that

He's always very good about tagging you, even if he just mentions your channel in passing, he's tagging you in the description AND comments

And you always thank him in his dms for tagging you

He starts expecting it now, seeing your notification and it brightens his day

He plays it cool tho, always thanking you in return and asking how your day is going

Which of course leads to conversations about other things (what did you do today, what did you eat, what are you up to)

He likes you, he really likes you

But he tries to be suave, just being nice at first, but he's always thinking of you tbh

At the gym, at home, when he's eating, in the shower, in bed 😏

He ends up jerking off to you quite a bit, though he won't admit it, he's too shy for that sksksk

He does ask about the general area you live in and gets excited when he finds out how close you are

Takes a lot of guts but he ends up asking you on a date, offering to pay for a nice meal and a movie if you want

Does a fist bump and jump when you accept sksksk

He dresses nice for your date, opting to wear dress pants and a tight button up shirt to show off his muscles

BUT YOU?? OMG YOU LOOK SO CUTE

You've got on a yellow sundress with flowers and white heels and a sun hat and he is just UGH so obsessed with you

Date goes well. He's happy to see you eating freely and without a care about how he may think, plus you get dessert and you lick cream off your lips and he has to excuse himself to go to the bathroom and calm himself down bc he got a boner 😔

Before the date ends, he asks you if you two can do this again, and you turn bashful

"You really want to hang out with me again??" you ask with big doe eyes

"Of course I do. I wanna date you, Y/N. And fuck you the way you deserve"

....is what he wishes he said sksksk

But instead he just nods, screaming inside bc you are honestly just so precious

You go on a second date, and a third, and a fourth and a fifth and honestly he is getting a little frustrated bc you have not even tried to hold his hand yet

He tried making the first move, but you're always just out of reach, just a little too far away from him to do anything

He agonizes over it a little bit, asking his gym bros what he should do

"Maybe she's just not into you dude"

"Just grab her and kiss her dude"

"I don't know man, i like men, not women"

They're no help tbh sksksk

He just decides to ask you on your next date and figure out why you won't initiate things with him

When he asks you, your eyes go wide and he thinks that if you could blush, your whole body would turn red

"What?! This whole time we've been going on dates?! I thought you just liked food as much as me and wanted to share it!"

He feels like he's gonna bang his head against a wall sksksk

TO BE FAIR! When he asks you out, he always refers to it as "hanging out" so you can't be blamed for getting confused

You decide to sit down with some ice cream and talk about how you both feel

He admits that he's been crushing on you for a while before you met and that he wanted to date you

You shyly admit that you find him very attractive but thought he was out of your league so you never considered that he could have feelings for you he's gonna crack his head open on the pavement omg sksksk

He reassures you that he genuinely likes you and is attracted to you and wants to have a romantic relationship with you

It's hard for you to believe, he's just so handsome and big and strong, is this real life or a dream??

You decide to let him prove it to you with more dates uwu

You start getting closer to him, letting him put his arm around around you, holding your hand

You're very anxious when he tries to kiss you, but once it happens it feels like fireworks are going off in your brain

You really like kissing him, just because he's always so gentle and he's so close and he's warm

You really, really like him 🥺

But don't worry sweet love, he likes you just as much if not more sksksk

He's so obsessed with you it's honestly kind of silly sksksk

He thinks about you all the time! And he wants to be with you all the time! He feels like he's gonna explode every time you show up to a date in a cute outfit!

He wants to make the relationship official and exclusive, so he asks to make a vlog with you

You agree! Not only do you think it would be good traction for your channel, but it would be nice to spend the day with him :)

You both bring your cameras on the day of the vlog!

You start by getting breakfast, showing off your coffees

He gets annoyed that you JUST have a coffee, but you swear it fills you up and he lets it slide as long as you eat a good lunch

Then you go to the gym together! You just hang out on the treadmill while he does his weight lifting

Tbh he's very distracted by your outfit, your leggings make your ass look so fucking good, and he would've been fucked if he didn't have a spotter

Then you go to lunch and you gush about the food and the restaurant and he's infatuated with you 💕

You turn the camera towards him and he's just got a lovesick look on his face

Then you go to a movie and then you go to his apartment for dinner!

You cook dinner together, making a meal that the both of you can enjoy, one that is nutritious AND delicious

You finish the vlog by showing off your finished plates and talking about what a fun day you had :)

You're ready to pack up your stuff and go home, but he asks if you'd like to stay and hang out a bit more

You oblige. You're dating now so it makes sense for yall to spend more time together

You decide to cuddle up and watch a movie, but 20 minutes in, you guys are making out on his couch sksksk

Things get hot and heavy pretty quick, and now his hand is going up your shirt and he's squeezing your waist and you start getting shy 😔

Does he really want you? Is he really interested in you? Is he sure that he wants you and your body?

But then your leg moves and rubs against his crotch and good lordy you can feel his boner 😳

Ok, goodbye insecurities, he's def into you and you're gonna get your man 😏

You go to the bedroom, undress, and oh boy he is enamored by you

Your breasts, your thighs, your BELLY?? You're gorg and he's obsessed

But he's not the only one drooling sksksk has he seen himself lately? He's sculpted like a god, you can't believe you scored a guy like him

AND NOT TO MENTION HIS COCK SKSKSK like that thing is long and thick, you're genuinely wondering if it's gonna fot

The two of you spend a good five minutes just staring at each other and complimenting each others' physiques

Eventually you get to the sex part sksksk but there's a lot of praise along the way

He's so cute the way he kisses down your body and spreads your legs and nuzzles into your mound

He's not too bad at giving head. You have to give him a little direction but he gets the hang of it and makes you cum

You admit that you're a little scared of sucking his dick so he doesn't make you, you just go to the main event

You're not sure if you should let him hit it raw but you're too impatient to let him get a condom, you're on birth control and you need that dick NOW

He slides in very easily, you are unbelievably wet and oh my god, if he doesn't focus then he'll cum so easily

He fits inside you so well, filling you up just right without any pain

It's such a good fit, his cock feels soooooo good inside you

And then he starts thrusting and all bets are off

The sex is so fucking good, oh my GOD

He just keeps hitting your sweet spots and rubbing your clit and oh god you're cumming already

Your cunt squeezes him so deliciously and you're so pretty and cute when you cum and holy fuck the noises you make are just sinful and he needs to slow down bc if he doesnt he's not gonna last long

He makes you cum three times before he pulls out and cums all over your tummy

Thinks you look so cute covered in his cum 🥴

He ends up cleaning you off with his tongue which just makes you needy again and you ask him oh so sweetly if he can fuck you one more time and whoops now his cock is hard again, guess he's gotta fuck you 🤷‍♀️

You guys go at it all night, eventually showering and going to bed around 4am

Of course you sleep over, ain't no way in hell he's letting you leave after all that

You sleep in together and when you wake up he makes you breakfast 🥺💕

He uploads his vlog after editing it the next day, and you upload yours

Your comments are very sweet at first, congratulating you on your new relationship with this other influencer

But then they turn mean :( people start to say that you're not good enough for him, why is he even with you, he should be with this other fitness influencer instead :(

He is pissed. His fans are attacking you on your page 😡

He makes a video the next day and posts it where he explains that he loves you and is happy with you and that until the hate comments stop, he will not be posting on his page

He helps you delete and mute and block and filter comments and users

He's very upset about this entire experience

"I guess you don't want to be with me anymore, huh?" you ask

He's offended and hurt!

"Why would you say that?"

"Well, you saw what they said. Maybe you should be with someone better..."

"What are you talking about? I love you, Y/N. You're perfect for me and I don't want anyone else. Do you just not want to be with me?"

"No! I do! I just... worry that I'm not good enough for you..."

He grabs your hands and makes you look at him

"Y/N, you are perfect to me. I couldn't ask for anyone better. I love you and I want to be with you. Please don't let these trolls dictate your life."

You're still hurt by the comments, but your feelings for him overpower the negative things you're feeling

You keep dating, and as time goes on, you care less and less about the comments that were made about your relationship

You continue with your channel and vlogs with him and enjoy your life

You still get backlash every now and then from obsessed friends, but when that happens, you just turn your computer off and go on about your day

Negativity can really affect your life, but he's always there to cheer you up and fuck you stupid so you forget all those mean comments sksksk

You become the "it" couple in the fitness and cooking communities, everyone thinks you're so so cute together and such a good match, so fuck those online trolls! Your cooking besties and his gym bros love you two together and that's all that matters 💕

I imagine he proposes after a year of dating, not wanting to waste any more time without you

He proposes at your favorite restaurant, but you say no :(

To be fair, your reasons are justified. You guys have rarely had arguments, you haven't gone through many trials in your life, you don't even live together! How can you be sure that he's the one when you haven't truly struggled with him yet?

He understands, although he's diappointed 😔

On the bright side, you suggest moving in to an apartment together once your leases are up! And he's very happy about that :)

You guys adopt some kitty cats after you move in together! You adopt two kittens from the same litter and you love them so so much, they often appear in your vlogs and sometimes you do cat reviews like on cat trees and toys and stuff

He encourages you to go to the gym for health reasons, but he doesn't push it. He just wants you to take care of yourself so you can be around for as long as possible 💕

He's gained a little bit of pudge! He's still strong as hell, but he's got a little layer of fat over some of his muscles like his abs, he's just not as sculpted now

It's bc he can't resist your food sksksk

But you're still very attracted to him so he doesn't care so much

Overall, beautiful love story, match made in heaven 💕

[maplegyu]

Went into this with no expectations! I just saw the tropes and summary and was like ooohhh i love all of these! I ended up rly loving the story and enjoying my read!!!

Your fingers tightened around the glass. Without thinking, you poured yourself another shot—your third, or was it the fourth? You weren’t keeping track anymore.

Mingyu let out a small chuckle, and that was it—you tipped your head back and downed the drink in one go.

Your chest tightened. Mingyu was your closest friend. Your partner for everything. The one you laughed with, teased, leaned on. Seeing her in that space, acting like she belonged, made your skin crawl. You probably were just overreacting- and yet, you just kept drinking.

Loved loved loved how this was written!!! I could really feel how reader was clinging onto the alcohol like a lifeline! The more it felt like Mingyu would be slipping through her fingers the harder she tried to be grounded by something else!

God, you were so hopelessly in love with him.

I GET U READER I WOULD BE TOO He's such a gentleman and he's sooo in tune with her feelings WHO WOULDNT FALL IN LOVE W KIM MINGYU

Of course, it wasn’t a big deal to him. But to you? It was everything. Every single thing.

GOD I CAN ONLY IMAGINE HOW MUCH THIS HURTS its like ur breaking ur own heart bc the feeling is like!! WHAT RIGHT DO I HAVE TO FEEL THIS WAY???!! i get u reader i rly get uuuu BUT UR FEELINGS ARE REAL AND VALID 😭 the hoping and yearning wow wow wow

I loved the imagery of the writing so much!!! Especially the scene outside the restaurant!!! Felt so immersed in the story and in very few scenes was already familiar with how close reader and Mingyu are and their feelings for each other.

BUT THE MORNING AFTER SCENE OH MY GOD???!?! CHEEKY MINGYU AAAAHHHHHHHHH

ON GOD!!! I AM NOT OVER THE IMAGE OF JUST WOKEN UP MINGYU, RASPY VOICE, REACHING OUT FOR READER... SMIRKING!!!!!! who wouldnt want to wake up next to this man for the rest of their lives?!

"Oh, this is fun," - im sorry. I WANT HIM SO BAD. Mingyu being a tease and being cheeky... I LOVE THIS KIND OF MINGYU GENUINELY LIKE SOME OF MY FAVORITE MINGYU TO READ!!!!!

YES HE DID BECAUSE PERHAPS!!!! HE IS IN LOVE WITH U ALSO DEAR READER?! 💘

“I know you can,” he said with that same, effortless ease, his tall, towering frame moving toward you without hesitation. “But let me.” His voice was softer this time, the teasing gone. 

MY KNEES TURNED TO JELLY FR!!!! when he is chivalrous and a gentleman but also hot as fuck 🤩

Mingyu stood at the stove, moving effortlessly like he belonged there, he changed his white shirt. His black t-shirt now clinging just enough to make you notice. The sleeves stretched over his biceps, broad and defined, flexing slightly with each movement.

IMAGINING THIS MINGYU

AND I DONT BLAME READER FOR HAVING A HARD TIME W HER FEELINGS FOR HIM

THE WAY THIS WHOLE SCENE EXCITED ME BECAUSE IT CONFIRMS THAT MINGYU DOES ACTUALLY FEEL FEELINGS FOR READER TOO!!!! ITS NOT ONE-SIDED AAAAHHHHH ✨️

Yeah. He was so screwed. 

#MAPLEGYU SCREAMS!!!!!!!!! this is everything. officially down bad. on his way to becoming a certified loverboy!!!!!!

The whole back and forth about stealing and wearing Mingyu's clothes...... THE OBVIOUS FLIRTING PLEASE I WAS RLY EATING IT UP!!!! dont u two realize ur so into each other aaahhhhhh! And then tbh at this point i thought the story (or part 1) would be over but there was more!!!!

Mingyu was still there and reader was wearing his clothes. Excuse me a whole day of domesticity with your favorite person????

The way user taesjpq painted the picture of how their night was going sent me to space actually because ITS THE LITTLE THINGS!!!! together ordinary things feel extraordinary 😭 and im sure thats what reader felt w gyu!!!! And please they never stopped flirting! Him telling her he looks good in his clothes!!?? MY BABY GIRL LET YOUR MIND GO THERE!!!! THINK ABT GYU BEING PART OF UR DAILY LIFE!!!! BELIEVE HE LIKES U BACK COS HE DOES!!!!!

He watches you with an intensity that makes the room feel smaller, more intimate. His eyes flicker to your lips, and that’s when it happens—the hesitation. Heswallows hard, fighting the urge to close the distance entirely. He’s trying—really trying—to resist, to keep this from crossing a line neither of you can come back from. But it’s impossible when you’re looking at him like that, when your body is so close, when the scent of you wrapped in his clothes makes his head spin. 

THIS MADE ME INSANE I LEGIT WASNT BREATHING

SO IMAGINE MY EXCITEMENT WHEN HE TRIED TO GO IN FOR A KISS!!!!!!! The build-up??!?! The uncertaintainty but also wanting it so bad??!?! CROSS IT CROSS THE LINE!!!! God im rooting for them i am suchhhh a sucker for bff's to lovers!!!!!!!

Thank you for writing this i really reaaally enjoyed it!!! I cant wait for the next part!!!! 💖

Jealousy part. I

genre — suggestive fluff, best friends to lovers, smut (maybe in part II) ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ pairing — female!reader x best friend!Mingyu summary — You, Hoshi, Wonwoo, and Mingyu—inseparable. Their apartment feels like your second home. But one of them makes your heart race in ways you wish it wouldn’t. He treats you like you’re special—attentive, caring, almost like a boyfriend. But he’s not your boyfriend. He’s your best friend. He treats you this way—this is just how Mingyu is, right? word count — 4,3k (part l)

Warnings and notes under the line.

WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, jealousy/insecurity, unrequited/complicated feelings, emotional distress, avoidance/coping mechanisms, mild possessiveness (towards him), possible hangover, waking up next to someone, suggestive elements/mild sexual tension, light kiss [let me know if I forgot something]

notes: san (ateez) cameo (you will better understand in part II) Hoshi, Wonwoo cameo. This is my first published ff ever, I hope you like it. I‘m actually very nervous about it, so feel free to give your opinion. I just wrote this, when I felt down bad for Mingyu again (he‘s so boyfriend istg). The question is, when i am not exactly down bad for Mingyu? He‘s the standard.

"Any plans for the weekend?"  

San held the office door open for you, his gentle smile as familiar as ever.  

You sighed quietly, relieved that the exhausting workweek was finally over. It had been chaos—half the staff out sick, leaving you drowning in double the workload.  

San had been your lifesaver, stepping in every time you thought you might break under the pressure.  

"Actually, I'm meeting my friends at a restaurant," you replied, noticing the faint flicker of something wistful in his eyes.  

"Why am I not surprised?" he teased, his grin widening as you stepped through the door.  

San had a way of always asking about your plans, like he was hoping, just once, your answer might include him. But it never did. Just: „My friends, my friends, my friends.“ 

It wasn’t a lie, though. You practically lived at their apartment. Gaming nights with Wonwoo, gym sessions with Mingyu, and endless meals with Hoshi—that was your rhythm, your second home.  

"Thanks for the coffee, San. Next time, it’s on me," you said, flashing him a grateful smile.  

"Anytime," he replied, his gaze lingering for just a moment longer before you parted ways.

 

You arrived flustered, breathless from rushing. Of course, they were already here. 

As you pushed open the door, the warm buzz of conversation and clinking plates enveloped you.  

Your eyes scanned the restaurant, locking on them almost immediately: your boys—and a girl. A girl? 

She was sitting beside Mingyu, close enough that their arms nearly brushed. Her laugh carried across the table, light and unrestrained, and something about it made your stomach twist. Who was she?  

"Finally!" Hoshi greeted you as you approached, his voice brimming with playful exasperation. "We thought you’d ditched us."  

You forced a smile, settling into the usual chaos of their teasing welcome. 

"This is Hana," Wonwoo explained casually when he caught the question in your eyes.  

"And? don’t you think she looks just like me?" Hoshi added, grinning as he gestured dramatically toward her.  

You studied her more closely, and the resemblance hit you. It was uncanny—her smile, her energy. She could’ve been his twin. 

"I’ve been crashing at their place for a few days," Hana said, extending her hand toward you. "Hoshi insisted."  

Your polite smile barely reached your eyes. Why hadn’t anyone told you?  

"Nice to meet you," you said, shaking her hand and glancing around. There wasn’t an empty chair for you.  

Mingyu noticed immediately. Without hesitation, he stood, grabbing one from a nearby table and setting it beside him.  

"Thanks, Gyu," you murmured, your voice softer than you intended.  

He nodded and gave you a gentle smile. 

Oh, how you’d missed him. His warmth, his silly jokes—the way his laughter could dissolve the stress of your week. You’d been looking forward to this, to catching up with him. But now, it seemed difficult.  

As the group settled into conversation, you tried to focus, tried to join in. But your attention kept drifting—to Hana, to how close she sat to Mingyu, to the way she leaned into him when she laughed. Her fingers grazed his arm casually, like she belonged there.  

"So, Hana, how do you like the city so far?" Wonwoo asked, drawing her attention.  

"It’s great," she said brightly. "Hoshi’s been showing me around—it’s been so much fun."  

Her hand lingered on Mingyu’s shoulder as she spoke, and your stomach knotted uncomfortably.  

Just then, the waiter arrived, placing drinks on the table. Four sojus. Your eyebrows lifted in surprise—they’d ordered before you arrived. That wasn’t how things worked. You always waited. It was a small tradition, but it mattered. Or, at least, it used to.  

"One soju for me too, please," you said quickly, catching the waiter before he walked away.  

But the unease didn’t leave. Hana’s touchiness continued—her laugh too loud, her attention on Mingyu too focused. He didn’t seem to mind, even smiled at her a few times. Yet, every so often, his eyes flicked to you, as if checking for something. 

You didn’t know why, but every time Hana’s hand brushed against his arm, you reached for your bottle. Every time she giggled a little too sweetly, your glass met your lips. The warm burn sliding down your throat was easier to deal with than the twist in your chest. 

"You should see these two at the gym," Hoshi chimed in suddenly, pointing between you and Mingyu. "They’re like workout aliens or something." 

The group laughed, and you managed a small smile, but your heart wasn’t in it. 

Hana giggled, leaning closer to Mingyu. "Maybe you can show me some moves sometime," she said, her tone playful. 

Your fingers tightened around the glass. Without thinking, you poured yourself another shot—your third, or was it the fourth? You weren’t keeping track anymore.  

Mingyu let out a small chuckle, and that was it—you tipped your head back and downed the drink in one go. 

Your chest tightened. Mingyu was your closest friend. Your partner for everything. The one you laughed with, teased, leaned on. Seeing her in that space, acting like she belonged, made your skin crawl. You probably were just overreacting- and yet, you just kept drinking. 

“I need to go to the bathroom,” you lie, the words tumbling out too quickly, barely convincing even to yourself. 

You needed space—air that wasn’t thick with your confusion, your frustration. If you stayed another second, your face would betray you, exposing the childish jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.  

The cool evening air hit you like a lifeline as you stepped outside, goosebumps forming on your arms from the crisp breeze. 

You closed your eyes briefly, letting it kiss your flushed cheeks, but it did little to soothe the ache in your chest. The dull, relentless throb of longing refused to fade.  

“This isn’t the bathroom.”  

The familiar voice sent a jolt through you, every nerve in your body suddenly on high alert. You didn’t have to turn to know who it was.  

You glanced back anyway, already masking your shock with a strained smile. Of course, it’s him. It’s always him.  

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said, forcing a lightness you didn’t feel. “This looks like a bathroom to me.”  

He chuckled, that low, warm laugh that always did things to your chest, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. And despite yourself, you smiled too, because how could you not? 

God, you were so hopelessly in love with him.  

Without a word, he steps closer, draping your jacket over your shoulders. “You’re probably freezing,” he says, his voice gentle, but with a tenderness that makes your stomach tighten.  

His hands brush lightly against your skin as he adjusts the jacket, and it sends a shiver through you—not from the cold, but from the barely-there touch. 

You look up, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes meet his. His gaze softens, a flicker of concern crossing his face.  

The silence that followed stretched taut between you, thick and heavy with unspoken words. Neither of you seemed willing to break it. The faint hum of traffic and the muffled buzz of laughter from the bar filled the empty space.  

You shifted uncomfortably, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress. Don’t say it. Don’t bring her up. Just let it go. But the question clawed its way out of you anyway.  

“I didn’t know Hana was staying at your place,” you blurted, the words sharper than you intended, laced with something raw and exposed.  

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. “Yeah, I didn’t know either. Trust me.”  

You raise an eyebrow, still unsure. “Hoshi didn’t mention it?” 

“He forgot,” Mingyu mutters, shaking his head. What a Hoshi thing to happen, you thought.  

“I walked into my room, and she was already asleep in my bed. I didn’t have the heart to wake her, so I took the couch for the week.”  

Your stomach twisted, the weight of his explanation sitting heavy. Of course, he wouldn’t complain. He’s Mingyu—always generous, always selfless. Always giving more of himself than he should.  

“Oh,” you managed, your voice too light, too fake. “It’s just funny to think… if I showed up at your place, I’d find her instead of you.” You tried to laugh, but the sound was hollow, even to your ears.  

He shrugged, casual and unaffected. “It wasn’t a big deal for me. I worked overtime all week, so I wasn’t home much anyway.”  

Of course, it wasn’t a big deal to him. But to you? It was everything. Every single thing.  

You felt the sting of tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away quickly. Not here. Not now.  

The night had been shallow and hollow, a void you couldn’t seem to escape. All you’d wanted was a quiet evening with your friends, especially Mingyu. Just sitting beside him, leaning against his shoulder—feeling the solid warmth of him—would’ve been enough.  

But instead, you’d spent the evening watching Hana, her laughter, her touches, her presence invading spaces you’d always considered yours. Even if you don't have the right to do so. 

The ache in your chest sharpened, spreading through you like wildfire. You couldn’t stay here any longer.  

“I’m gonna head home,” you said, your voice flat, eyes fixed on the ground. “I think I need some rest after this week.”  

You felt his gaze land on you, heavy and searching, and for a moment, you wavered under its weight.  

“I’ll take you home,” he said softly, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.  

“No, it’s okay,” you replied quickly, trying to steady your tone. “I have my car.”  

“I know,” he says, stepping closer, his presence almost overwhelming. His eyes scan your face, tracing every inch of you, as if reading you in ways that make your heart race. “But you shouldn’t drive. You drank too much.” 

“I’m fine,” you muttered, frustration bubbling up. “I’m not drunk.” 

 And then, he speaks again, voice softer, more tender. 

“Your cheeks,” he murmurs, his thumb gently brushing against your flushed skin. “They’re red. That happens when you drink too much.” 

You freeze, his touch lingering. Your heart pounds in your chest, and his proximity feels like a punch to your gut. He looks even more handsome than usual—his messy hair falling over his forehead, the soft fabric of his shirt still loose and unbuttoned just enough to make your breath catch. The way he stands there, effortlessly composed, but so close that you can almost taste the air between you—his scent wrapping around you like a warm, familiar blanket. 

God, you feel weak in front of him. 

“I can’t let you drive like this,” he adds softly. 

You want to protest, but the words catch in your throat. He cares. He always does. 

“Unless…” he tilts his head slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’ve got other plans?”  

A sharp, throbbing pain pulsed through your head as you reached for your phone, your limbs feeling heavy under the weight of sleep. 

The sunlight filtering through the curtains was way too bright, making you wince as you blindly swiped to answer the call without checking the caller ID. 

“Hello…?” Your voice was hoarse, thick with exhaustion. 

“Mingyu, where are you?! I’ve been trying to reach both of you for hours!” 

Your brows furrowed, confusion washing over you like a cold wave. Mingyu? 

You pulled the phone away from your ear to check the name on the screen. Hoshi Hyung. 

Your headache made it hard to process, but one thing was clear—you would never save him like that. 

Why the hell was he even calling you about Mingyu? 

Just as the pieces of the puzzle refused to click into place, you felt it—a presence beside you. 

With a slow, sinking feeling, you turned your head to the right. 

And there he was. 

Mingyu. 

All 187 centimeters of him, sleeping peacefully under your blanket like he belonged there. His hair was tousled, his breathing deep and even, his broad chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. 

Your eyes widened, your grip on the phone tightening. You hung up immedietly.  

Fuck. 

Before you could spiral too much, Mingyu let out a deep sigh, his arm stretching out lazily—almost like he was reaching for you. His eyes, still hazy with sleep, fluttered open but instantly softening the moment they land on you,— The way you were staring at him, as if he'd just appeared out of nowhere —his lips curled into a knowing smirk. 

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice deep and rough with sleep. 

“It’s 2 p.m., Mingyu.” 

He blinked slowly before lazily glancing around the room. “Shit, really?” His voice was raspy, thick. He let out a slow breath before sinking deeper into the pillows. “I slept so fucking good.” A lazy smile tugged at his lips as he let his eyes fall shut again. 

You watched him. His dark hair was a complete mess, strands sticking out in every direction, and yet, somehow, it only made him look softer. His skin looked warm and tan against the white sheets. His lips—full, slightly swollen from sleep—parted just the tiniest bit, and for a moment, you had to fight the urge to reach out, to trace them with your fingertips, just to see if they were as soft as they looked. 

You swallowed hard. "I... uh—what happened last night?" 

Mingyu let out a soft chuckle, rolling onto his side to face you properly. “You really don’t remember?” 

Your silence was answer enough. 

“Oh, this is fun,” he mused, resting his cheek against his palm. “You were very affectionate. Like, I knew you liked me, but I didn’t expect you to cling to me like that.” 

Your face burned instantly. “Shut up.” 

He grinned wider. “You wouldn’t let go. Kept saying I couldn’t leave, that I should sleep next to you.” His voice dropped into something teasing. “Should I start staying over more often?” 

The heat in your cheeks deepened, and without thinking, you grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at him. He laughed, catching it effortlessly before it could hit his face. 

“Ohhh, so violent first thing in the morning,” he teased. “Where’s all that love from last night, huh?” 

You wanted to escape the awkwardness, so you stepped away from the bed, but as you did, your gaze betrayed you—flicking toward Mingyu. His white shirt hung loosely on his frame, almost completely unbuttoned, exposing a hint of his chest and the silver chain resting just above it. The sight made your breath catch for a moment, your heart skipping. 

Mingyu caught your glance. His eyes met yours for a heartbeat, but then they dropped—slowly, unwillingly, lingering on your legs just a moment too long. 

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the fabric of your dress inching up, revealing more of your legs than you'd intended. The air between you both seemed to thicken, heavy with something unspoken. 

In an awkward flurry, Mingyu began buttoning his shirt, his movements too quick, too self-conscious, like he was suddenly aware of every inch of space between you. 

You cleared your throat, trying to fill the silence, and nervously stammered, “I—I’m making breakfast.” 

Mingyu immediately sat up, “I’ll do it.” 

You turned to glare at him, a bit sharper than you intended. “I can make it on my own.” 

“I know you can,” he said with that same, effortless ease, his tall, towering frame moving toward you without hesitation. “But let me.” His voice was softer this time, the teasing gone. 

His eyes flickered over you briefly—the exhaustion, the headache written all over your face, the way your clothes were still crumpled from last night. 

“You should take a shower,” he added, voice gentle. “It’ll help with the headache.” 

You blinked at him, and looked down on you after.  

“Yeah..probably.” 

You hesitated for a second before heading towards the bathroom, still feeling like you were stuck in some weird dream. 

The moment you stepped in front of the mirror, you almost flinch. 

Your makeup was smudged, your hair an absolute mess, strands sticking to your forehead. Your dress from last night was wrinkled and slightly loose on one side. 

You looked horrible. Greasy. Disgusting. 

Mingyu slept next to this? 

You suddenly wanted to cry. 

Taking a deep breath, you quickly peeled off your clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the weird feelings in your chest. 

By the time you were done, you felt human again. 

There was no way you were putting that dress back on, so you grabbed your bathrobe, tying it tightly around your waist before stepping out. 

Your hair was still damp, strands clinging to your skin as you walked barefoot toward the kitchen, following the smell of food. 

Mingyu stood at the stove, moving effortlessly like he belonged there, he changed his white shirt. His black t-shirt now clinging just enough to make you notice. The sleeves stretched over his biceps, broad and defined, flexing slightly with each movement.  

And then he turned around. 

For a moment, it was like time froze. 

Mingyu’s breath hitched the second his eyes landed on you. 

The damp strands of hair framing your face, the way your robe sat snugly around you, revealing the delicate curve of your collarbone—he was so unprepared for this. 

His fingers twitched around the wooden spoon, and for a split second, he forgot what he was even doing. His grip almost faltered. 

He was staring. 

Hard. 

You raised an eyebrow. “You good?” 

Mingyu swallowed, snapping out of it. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, I’m—uh, food’s almost done.” 

He forced a smile, turning back to the stove way too quickly—like he needed a second to compose himself. 

You didn’t question it, shrugging as you took a seat at the table. 

Mingyu, on the other hand, inhaled deeply, gripping the spoon like it was the only thing keeping him from completely losing his mind. 

Yeah. He was so screwed. 

“So.” Mingyu cleared his throat, a little too forcefully. “How’s your headache?” 

You barely looked up, scrolling through the endless messages from Hoshi and Wonwoo. “Hm? Oh-It still hurts. But I’m sure I’ll feel better after eating something."

A beat of silence. 

Too long. Too heavy. 

You, sitting there like that—bare-faced, hair still damp, wrapped up in your robe—he had seen you like this before. And yet, right now, it felt… different. His fingers flexed against the edge of the kitchen counter. 

He didn’t want to think about why. 

“How’s work been lately?” he asked, voice casual—too casual. “You looked exhausted yesterday. And, well… the number of drinks you had kind of spoke for itself.” 

You let out a dry laugh, stretching your legs beneath the table. “Yeah, work… Work has been insane. Feels like half the office is out sick, and I’m the lucky one picking up the slack.” 

Mingyu frowned as he turned off the stove, moving with practiced ease. “That’s bullshit.” A pause. “No wonder you were exhausted.” 

That wasn’t the reason you drank last night, but he didn’t need to know that.  

You shrugged, watching him. The way he knew where everything was. The way he moved through your kitchen like he belonged there. Because he did. 

Mingyu set a plate in front of you before settling into the chair across from you. He picked up his fork but didn’t eat right away, just watching you for a beat. 

“You really need a break,” he muttered, mostly to himself. Then, his eyes flickered to yours, and something shifted in his expression. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Or maybe just… new clothes.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

He gestured vaguely toward you. “I mean, I knew you had a couple of my things, but—” He gave you a pointed look. “At this point, half of your closet is mine. I could practically  move in here.” 

You almost choked on your food. 

That little shit. 

Mingyu leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “You know, I always wondered where my stuff kept disappearing to.” He tilted his head, pretending to think. “For a while, I actually believed I had a hole in my closet.” 

You swallowed your bite. “Weird. Sounds like a you problem.” 

He scoffed. “Oh, really?” 

You nodded, keeping your face blank. “Mhm. No clue what you’re talking about.” 

His gaze flickered over you, his smirk deepening. “So, you’re telling me my hoodies just magically disappeared? Along with my t-shirts? And my beanie? And—” 

“Okay, okay,” you cut in, groaning. “Maybe your clothes are just… way too comfortable. Not my fault they’re basically begging to be stolen.” 

“Begging,” he repeated, like he was tasting the word. 

“Yes.” You met his eyes, feigning innocence. “I don’t see the issue.” 

Mingyu let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.” 

You smirked, tilting your head. “And yet, you still let me steal your stuff.” 

He exhaled through his nose, picking at his food. “I don’t let you. You just take it.” 

“Semantics.”  

Mingyu rolled his eyes, but there was something in his expression—something warm, something familiar. 

For a moment, it almost felt normal again. Like the weird tension from before had settled into something softer. Something easier. 

But then his eyes lingered on you a second too long. 

And suddenly, it was back. 

That unspoken thing between you. 

Neither of you acknowledged it. 

You just kept eating. 

And Mingyu? 

Mingyu was so, so screwed. 

Your phone started ringing. Hoshi was calling. 

We were screwed. 

By the time evening settled in, you had changed into something comfortable—his clothes, to be exact. He was still here, lingering in your space, and for a few fleeting hours, everything felt right. As if this was how it was always meant to be. As if this was your everyday. But deep down, a small voice whispered, warning you not to get used to it. 

After dinner,  Mingyu is still here. 

You’re in the kitchen, washing dishes side by side like it’s nothing, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hand brushes against yours when he reaches for a plate, and it’s almost too quick to register. But you don’t pull away. Neither does he. 

He leans against the counter, arms crossed loosely, watching you as you load the dishes into the dishwasher. His voice breaks the silence, low and casual, but there’s an edge to it, something like hesitation. 

“Do you still have a headache?” 

Before you can speak, he’s close. His presence fills the space between you. His left hand gently presses against your forehead.. His right hand moves to your neck, fingers brushing lightly over your skin.  

You barely notice it at first, but when you shift slightly, you feel it—your back pressing against the counter. Mingyu is so close, standing in front of you, subtly caging you in You can barely breathe. You don’t know what’s worse: the fact that he’s so close, or the fact that you want him closer.  

Your voice falters when you answer. "I’m fine now. It’s... better." You watch as Mingyu’s face softens in an instant at your words. 

Neither of you moves, standing close, too close.  

Mingyu’s lips quirk into a grin, but there’s a hint of something more in his voice. “My clothes look good on you. I should let you steal them more often.” 

You laugh, but it’s breathless. You stretch up, reaching for his face, your fingers brushing his skin. You squint your eyes, making a playful face. “I’d do it anyway. Don’t need your permission.” 

Mingyu chuckles, but his gaze shifts, sharpening just enough for you to notice. He steps closer. The warmth radiating off his body, the faint brush of his leg against yours, the way his chest is so close that if you just leaned in the smallest bit, you'd be pressed against him. It’s intoxicating. You don’t even realize you’ve stopped breathing for a second until you force yourself to inhale, only to take in the faint scent of him—clean, familiar, utterly Mingyu. 

He watches you with an intensity that makes the room feel smaller, more intimate. His eyes flicker to your lips, and that’s when it happens—the hesitation. Heswallows hard, fighting the urge to close the distance entirely. He’s trying—really trying—to resist, to keep this from crossing a line neither of you can come back from. But it’s impossible when you’re looking at him like that, when your body is so close, when the scent of you wrapped in his clothes makes his head spin. 

And then, he inches closer, almost without thinking, and his lips brush against yours—just the lightest touch, so soft that it could almost be a breath. Your body tenses, and for a second, everything stills.  

But fuck, it’s enough to send heat coursing through his veins. 

His lips are soft, teasing, brushing lightly against yours. The kiss is slow, barely there, but enough to leave you gasping for more. 

You inhale sharply, your breath mixing with his. You don’t move away. If anything, you shift closer, your body reacting before your mind can catch up. 

His lips linger, hovering, teasing. Testing. 

His self-control is hanging by a thread. 

He tells himself to stop. You were loosing yourself in it. You- 

- Ding Dong 

The sound of the doorbell rings, slicing through the tension. You both freeze. The world shifts back into focus. The heat, the closeness, everything evaporates in an instant. 

You step back, your breath coming in uneven gasps. Mingyu looks away, running a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure. 

[waynes-multiverse]

Headcanon: Valentine's Day 💕

(Dean Winchester // Soldier Boy // Beau Arlen // Russell Shaw – Edition)

Prompt: How would your favorite men surprise you for Valentine's Day?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader // Soldier Boy x reader // Beau Arlen x reader // Russell Shaw x reader

Warnings: +18 for some language and spice, tons of fluff, a smidge of angst

A/N: Something sweet to sweep you off your feet for the most romantic day of the year 😉 Happy early Valentine's from me, my loves 💖 (And big thanks to the lovely, amazing @zepskies 💜 for starting this trend in the first place. It's addicting 😂🫶)

Dean:

Dean isn’t big on Valentine’s Day and romance. Not because he thinks it’s an unnecessary holiday invented by greeting card companies, but because he genuinely doesn’t know how to be romantic.

You’re aware of this and don’t care if he surprises you with a big gesture. Because truth is, Dean’s romantic when it comes to the little things.

You don’t care if he brings you flowers because he brings you your favorite take-out order when you so much as mention that you’re hungry.

You don’t care if he gets you a card because he gets up in the middle of the night and saunters all the way to kitchen to bring you a glass of water when you tell him you’re thirsty.

You don’t care if he gets you chocolate because he creates personal mixtapes for you with songs you said you liked during random drives.

He listens to you. He holds open doors for you. He protects you. He keeps you calm. He takes care of you when you’re injured. And he loves you with every fiber of his being.

So, really, you don’t care if he makes a big deal out of one random calendar day a year or not. It doesn’t prove his love for you – the little things do.

However, you’re still sweetly surprised (and moved to tears) when you find the Dean Cave dipped in the warm glow of fairy lights and candles.

He’s picked out your favorite chick-flick and your favorite snacks.

He opens his arms with a big, cheeky grin and invites you into his snuggly embrace on the couch.

There’s a box of chocolates on the coffee table, a few of them half eaten, and a note that reads: I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is. Be mine?

You smile and kiss his scruffy cheek. “Always.”

Flustered, he smiles, cheeks tinged pink, and kisses your crown. “Happy unattached-drifter-Christmas, sweetheart.”

Soldier Boy:

To say Ben’s old-school when it comes to romance would be an understatement. While the rest of the year his bedside manners leave much to desire, he strangely shines on Valentine’s.

Mostly, because he knows sex is a given on this holiest of holy days. No sickness or period can stop him.

If you accidentally died, you’re even sure he’d pull a full Weekend at Bernie’s and have a night out with your corpse.

First, he surprises you with a delicately wrapped gift on your bed: a tight-fitting, beautiful emerald evening gown and the matching lacy lingerie set.

Of course he got you underwear, even though he won’t mind if you don’t wear anything at all under that dress.

He then takes you out to the fanciest restaurant in the city, where he reserved a private room away from all the other commoners.

His attention is only on you.

He praises you all night long and gives compliments as if he's never done anything else his entire (long) life.

He orders the most expensive bottle of wine and the best steak and makes sure you know that it is.

He encourages you to play footsie under the table with him before he slips the heel off your foot, and your toes massage the growing bulge in his slacks.

He holds your hand in public and protectively guides you goddamn everywhere with a palm on the small of your back, showing you off like arm candy – the trophy wife.

Sure, you could protest and critique his… traditional views.

You’re not a fucking award he’s won for bad acting!

But your cheeks flush furiously every single time he brags boisterously about you to anyone who will listen. And those who don’t listen are forced to listen.

But you can’t deny it feels good to be so wanted, so desired.

When you come home at the end of the night (with a fucking horse-drawn carriage no less), Ben can barely keep his large hands from roaming your curves. You know he expects his reward now for being the best possible lover ever.

On the kitchen island, you also find a huge bouquet of red roses waiting for you. You can barely appreciate its beauty before the zipper in the back of your dress slides open. Well… rips open.

Between the thorny stems, there’s a card attached, too. It doesn’t read “Be Mine,” however.

Nope, it says, “You are mine.”

And you know he fucking means it.

Beau Arlen:

Your favorite cowboy sheriff will pull out all the stops as soon as the calendar on his desk reads February.

He doesn’t wait for D-Day either. Every day for thirteen days straight, there’s a little surprise waiting for you when you get home.

Your favorite flowers, your favorite meal, your favorite movie, a framed picture of you and him from your first vacation together, a necklace you saw in an antique store you mentioned in passing…

Some might say he’s a little overcompensating.

But Beau has made mistakes in his past, especially on the relationship front, and will be damned if he hasn’t learned from them.

So, he will make sure you feel wanted and loved till the day he dies, even though you keep repeatedly telling him he doesn’t need to make a fuss about Valentine’s Day.

Really, you’re good with picked flowers from the garden.

But Beau’s stubborn and won’t be discouraged. The southern gentlemanliness is rooted deep within his heart and soul.

This day is all about his endless love for you.

Honestly, the sheer amount of everything makes you even slightly uncomfortable. It might sound dumb, but how could you ever compete with that level of commitment?

There ain’t enough blow jobs in this world to make up for his devotion to you.

But on the big day itself, you are actually the one who surprises him with a romantic weekend trip to a cabin in the mountains and excellent fishing spots close by.

You know the biggest gift you could give him is some peace and quiet, time for himself, and a listening ear because he will surely talk the entire time about God and the world while you’re stuck on a boat with him.

But on the night itself, when you give him your gift, he’s actually speechless. Tears brim in his green eyes because you thought of him.

He’s moved, and it moves you.

Because, after all, to you, there’s no bigger gift in this world than his smile.

Russell Shaw:

You don’t expect much when Valentine’s Day looms in the distance. In fact, you don’t expect anything at all.

You’ve only been dating Russell for a couple of months now, and you barely ever see him. Your time together mostly consists of text messages, late night phone calls, and the occasional video chats.

You know his job is complicated. You know he can’t be around as much, even though you direly wish he could.

On the morning of the dreaded day, you receive a simple text message:

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart! I’ll call you later!”

You hate to admit it, but you feel a little disappointed – disenchanted even. You don’t want to make a big deal out of it because it’s a stupid, unimportant almost-holiday.

All day long, you curse the greeting card companies and the poisonous claws of consumerism for making you care in the first place.

You’re a strong, independent woman. You shouldn’t need a man to give you flowers, gifts, or attention to feel appreciated.

Still…

As you park in the driveway after a long day at work where you watched your colleagues fawn over the bouquets they received from their partners, you feel disheartened when you still haven’t even gotten your promised phone call.

Russell always leaves you wanting more… That can both be a good thing and a very bad one.

But as you close the car door, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You all too keenly pull it out and pick up, almost dropping it because your hands are jittering with excitement at this point and your heart is pounding furiously.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Russell greets you on the other end, the deep timbres of his voice sending immediate shivers down your spine. “You home yet?”

All your worries and sorrows are instantly forgotten when you hear the big smile on his freckled face that he’s surely carrying.

He’s worth it, you remind yourself, even when it’s not easy. Life is not always rainbows and butterflies.

“Uh, almost. Unlocking the front door as we speak,” you tell him.

“Sorry I couldn’t call you sooner. Was stuck on a plane. Long flight,” he says mysteriously. You don’t even ask at this point. You know he can’t tell you.

“No worries. I was busy, anyways,” you lie and hope he buys your nonchalance. “Anywhere interesting you are now?”

“You could say that, yeah…”

“Well, if you hold on a second, I’ll slip out of those clothes and make your evening even more interesting with some pictures,” you tease flirtatiously and push the door open to your dark apartment.

The light switches on by itself, though. You blink in surprise before the phone falls out of your hand when Russell beams broadly at you.

“As much as I love getting your dirty little photos, I think I prefer the real thing tonight,” he says slyly.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” You surge forward into his strong arms so forcefully you almost tackle him to the ground, your hands slinging around his neck. If you could keep him caged there forever, you’d be fine with it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” Russell says with a warm chuckle and claims your lips in a searingly passionate kiss that shows you just how much he’s certainly missed you too. “Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Hope you enjoyed these little snippets, friends! Do you agree with these? 😉

I legit stole Dean's half-eaten box of chocolate and the Forrest Gump note from another fic of mine. I couldn't resist. I can totally see him doing something silly and cute like that 😂

Happy Valentine's 💕

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[coolchasteboy]

"You want me to wear a thong bikini on vacation" I asked. "Yes babe. I bought it for you to wear while we are in San Juan" said Mina.

This was after she started feminizing me. I had worn a bikini one time before on vacation because my luggage got lost. But this time, I don't know, I just wasn't ready. "Mina, I think I just want to wear a speedo or something in San Juan." She frowned. I knew that frown. It meant she was disappointed. "Look Jennifer, we are going on this vacation as BFFs. I am going to get some dick on this vacation and so are you. And you are going to do it as Jennifer. And girls wear thong bikinis. Do you understand." I just looked at her and said "yes, I understand." With that Mina said she would pack my bag for me. We were to leave in the morning. "I will pick a travel outfit for you to wear" she said. I just nodded and made a bath so I could shave my body hair.

The next morning we got up super early. Our flight left at 6:30 am so we had to get to the airport by 5 am. "Jennifer, time to get up. I laid your outfit on the chair last night after you went to sleep." "I am tired" I whined. "Get up, get up, get up" she said. So I did.

My outfit was super cute. It was a cute white linen cotton romper, cute black thong undies, red bra, and some wedge heels. I got dressed, made us some tea, and we were off. The flight was uneventful. The flight attendant complimented me on my outfit. "OMG, you look super cute!" she said. The other flight attendant, a man, also complimented me. "I hope you are going somewhere fun where you can show off a bit" he said. I just laughed and said "the same place you are going, San Juan." "You know" he said "we have a two day layover in San Juan. If you want, we can hang out some while I am there." With that I gave him my number. He was a bit older than me and had really cute short brown hair with signs of grey. I could just totally run my hands through his hair. Mina was really happy. "He is really cute" she said. "I know" I replied back.

We got a cab to the hotel. We had a female driver. She was so beautiful. She asked what we were going to get up to while in San Juan. Mina said loudly "we are going to get so much dick while we are here." The driver responded "yeah, I hear that. You go girls!" With that she gave us the name of some clubs.

After being dropped off and getting checked in it was time for the beach. Me in my new thong bikini and Mina is a super sexy one piece. "Let's go" she said. "Put on a sarong or some shorts on the ride down to the beach." At the beach, we made our place and then my phone rang. It was Mitch, the airline attendant. "Yeah, come on down to the beach" I said. He was there shortly thereafter. OMG, did he look yummy. He was in a white bikini bathing suit. His package was huge. Mina had gone in the ocean and I was there trying to put sun screen on. "Let me help" he said. "Get on your hands and knees so I can put some on your back." So I did. I was there on all fours. He got behind and moved my legs apart and then came up behind me. I could feel his boner through his bikini pressing against my boi pussy. I started leaking cum at this point. He was slowly rubbing lotion in, stretching himself and his boner into me. "How does that feel" he said. I didn't know how to describe this feeling and said "It feels incredible against me." With that I moved my thong strap to the side. I could feel the tip of his cock outside of his bikini. It was against my pussy. "And this, how does this feel?" he asked. "Like heaven" I responded.

There was hardly anyone on the beach. I pushed back against his cock. I heard him lower his biking slightly. His cock started rubbing against my pussy. He then put one finger and then two inside me. He finger fucked me. "How about now" he asked. "Yeah, I like that. You can put you cock in me now if you want" I said. He slowly removed his fingers and position his swollen hard cock at my pussy entrance. "It is time" he said and then just pushed in me. I am not going to lie, it hurt, but at the same time it felt so good. And he just kept pushing in and out. I was so worried that someone would see us or call the cops. But I didn't dare ask him to stop. "Are you wearing a condom" I asked. "No" he responded, while still fucking me. Then his pace picked up and his breathing and then he just slammed me. I could feel his cock pulsate and I could feel his warm juices inside me. Still no one was around. When he finished he pulled out, put my thong back over my pussy, and pulled up his bikini. "Thank you" I said. He just patted me on the ass and left. I called him a couple of times that evening but he never answered, nor returned my voice mail or text.

When Mina got back she said "I saw him humping you while I was in the water." "He did more than that" I said. "He fucked his cum deep inside my pussy." "OMG, you little slut. I can't believe you got dick before I did" she said. "Mina, I feel like a cum slut now. I mean, I just let a man unload in me. I didn't really know him." Mina held me in her arms while the sun was setting on the beach. "Jennifer, that is what we woman do. It is hard to explain, but we just take men's cum. Sometimes it is from a boyfriend and sometimes from a stranger. We are just built this way. You are built this way. You are a woman." She then kissed my head. "I love you Mina" I said. "Thank you for making me into a woman."

Bodies Kissed by the Sun ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[windixie]

black sheep *ೃ༄ actor! gojo x guitarist! reader

gojo quickly lands a role as the main character in an upcoming film. only problem? you’re his costar and he has to film a sex scene with you and he ends up falling for you.

ⓘ gojo is mean, filthy smut, reader is hinted as being alternative, public sex, creampie, smut smut and smut.

actor! gojo is thrilled to be informed that he landed the role to an upcoming movie. he wasn’t surprised at all to be honest. his father is one of the biggest movie stars of all time and it was gojo’s time to shine.

actor! gojo who arrives on set to get to know his costars. he has no problem wooing the females leads with his muscular build and charming personality.

guitarist! reader arrived a bit late due to not finding your tuner for your guitar. you quickly apologized to the director as well to everyone.

actor! gojo who’s blood ran cold. it was you. the lead guitarist and singer to his favorite band. and you were going to be his supposed love interest in the film.

actor! gojo watches from afar on how to carry yourself with talking to others. he can’t help himself but approach. he prepares his cocky personality.

actor! gojo who asks how he can’t believe they decided to risk the movie by including your face in it. he was joking of course! but

guitarist! reader wasn’t having it. you quickly shot back how the film was at stake for having a nepo baby as the main role. you said as you looked back down to correctly tune your guitar setting it on the side since it wasn’t needed yet.

actor! gojo who was taken aback but he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. he took a seat next to you saying how most of the industry relies on nepo babies and what not but you just weren’t listening!

guitarist! reader has seen some of actor! gojos films but you thought they were boring and worthless. simply because he was in it.

actor! gojo soon realizes he actually hates you and your pretty face.

over the next few weeks of filming you and actor! gojo did not get along at all. the director was nervous to see how the sex scene would play out if you two didn’t even get along!

actor! gojo sighs as the day arrives that he has to fuck you in front of everyone else. he didn’t understand why they couldn’t just fake the sex but the crew just wanted the scene to be raw and real.

guitarist! reader who has to quickly change into lingerie after filming your singing scene. the frilly pink panties and bra exposed your body.

actor! gojo eyes widened as he took sigh of your body. you both were explained on how the scene would play out and gojo didn’t even need to take anything to get hard. his body completely covered yours. “don’t think I want to do this with you”

“I’m sure you don’t. you’re rock hard I can see how wet you are” you grinned.

actor! gojo was about to shoot something back at you before he heard the booming voice of the man yelling “3..2..1 action!”

he threw you into the bed making you moan as he made you look at him. “performing while wearing that fuckin short skirt huh? you slut, you want another man’s attention?!” he ripped off the lingerie immediately with a sound that made you cringe. “no michael just want you!” “shut up”

actor! gojo was so excited to fuck you already. he teased you before slowly entering you. the sweet sounds that fell from your lips sounded so real.

because they were. his cock was long and it kissed all the sensitive areas. “Michael..!” you moaned out as you scratched at his back which made actor! gojo groan out his speed picking up just how the script said it had to.

guitarist! readers back arches as you whined underneath him. you were so dumbed out by Gojos cock you understood all his other costars from his past movies now.

actor! gojo who’s eyes widened as you moaned out his name. not his characters, but his. he pounded into you harshly. “take my fuckin cock” you whined at his speed.

the director was about to cry tears of joy at how the scene was playing out. everyone watched carefully and some were even flustered.

with one final thrust, actor! gojo came in you. the camera zoomed in to see the cum drip out of you before his fingers pushed it back in. “take all of it”

that definitely was not on the script.

[cindol]

micheal kaiser x fem reader . ( drabble . )

꒰ঌ ໒꒱ — small smut, p in v, crack, kissing,

even before marrying i feel like kaiser would still want some kind of bracelet or ring on your body to signify your his and he’s yours.

he knows your boundaries and agreed on not marrying till you’re both in a stage of life to where it’s possible. (for kaiser he wants to marry you when he goes pro) . So he’s taking you to the best jewlery store he knows.

hand rubbing at the low of your back so you felt more comfortable picking out the rings.

when you did finally choose those rings to wear he never shut the fuck up about them or stopped touching at your wrist and fingers.

in the mornings he was waking you up to kissing at the golden ring on your ring finger and at night when he’s relaxing with you he’s doing the same thing.

you know kaiser is a touchy person, it’s a known fact with him that he thrives on physical touch in relationships but you had no idea really how touchy he could be until that ring.

sex is completely anew. His new obsession was seeing the gold ring on your finger while making love. Almost all the time now he wanted you on underneath him.

while you were moaning and whimpering so softly he was working his hips to give you thrusts that hit that squishy spot inside you real nice. Intertwining his hands with yours so he could rub his thumb on your ring finger to feel that golden band around it.

you were writhing around with your legs autonomously wrapped around his waist while your arms were wrapped around his neck for some kind of grounding. But of course even in a setting like this kaiser asked the silliest question.

“hey, kiss.” saying it breathlessly while a finger pointed at his lips.

you were still dazed, a little pouty with how he abruptly stopped his movements and confused. “kai… wha…huh?”

kaiser cleared his throat, repeating himself again. “a kiss, liebling. I think a man should get a kiss in such an intimate moment, no?”

you could only whine at that. This was just like kaiser to decide to pause sex just to ask for a kiss. And you undoubtedly gave it to him wanting him moving inside you and hitting that sweet spot instead cockwarming him.

but the kiss wasn’t enough for him, it was really just a peck on the lips to him and made him tsk and tut. “that’s not what i mean by a kiss liebing.” he sighed, playing up his dramatized disappointment before he leaned in to really show you.

once his lips were on yours he dominated yours like he did in any field. He practically swallowed any gasps, mewls, and moans you had in your throat. His tongue fought with yours and came on top. Just to keep you on your feet he started moving his hips again with a agonizing slow pace but rough thrusts.

because kaiser loves his future wife that much.

[princess-of-the-corner]

ML AU - Public Divorce

So, before Origins, sometime over … whatever break/vacation Paris kids have between school years, André finds out about Audrey’s “Other Family” (Zoé & Mr. Lee) in just about the worst way possible. What follows is a very loud, ugly, chaotic mess of a VERY PUBLIC divorce, as Audrey and André use their various platforms to slander the other. It is brutal, and not particularly dignified. They attack each other’s character, their appearances, their hobbies, even diets. Anything they appear in suddenly turns into being stuck at your friends house while their parents argue. At some point, in a “stick it to my ex” kind of move, André starts “dating(??)” other woman, trying to prove … something? That he doesn’t need Audrey? That she’s replaceable?? Anyway, Audrey decides fair’s fair, and starts publicly toting around her array of “side pieces” that she’s had for years.

Of course, none of this is actually GOOD for either of their popularities - Audrey opinions as the “Style Queen” starts to tarnish, André starts losing in the polls. But then. Then, after several MONTHS of this nonsense, André finally gets reminded, “oh yeah! We have a kid!” and starts using Chloé to slander Audrey. How she SUCKED as a mother, was never there, how he basically was raising Chloé as a single parent. And Audrey starts going on about how she never WANTED kids, how André was so DEMANDING, how trapped she felt in their marriage, How it isn’t HER fault she barely knows anything about Claudine, André never wanted her around!

Anyway, Chloé starts the school year, not as the returning Queen Bitch, but an exhausted girl who would appreciate it if everyone just knocked it off and let her sleep, please and thank you. She’s spent most of the break camping out at either Sabrina’s or Adrien’s, whenever Daddy wasn’t dragging her out to show how much he was still a “family man” or whatever bullshit he’s trying to do now. This Chloé has officially reached her limit. She’s watched her parents devolve into literal toddlers, gone through an emotional death coaster, and landed on a very bitter, resigned acceptance. As far as she’s concerned, nothing she can do will make any difference, so fuck it! Let’s wear hoodies all day! Let’s swim in the Seine! How about I burn all my clothes! Who gives a shit!? She’ll spend almost a week doing nothing but sleeping, then go on a shopping spree for knives. She’s giving into whatever random impulses strike her, and otherwise just not giving a single fuck. Sabrina and Adrien have been taking turns as her impulse control, preventing her from doing anything TRULY nuts, but they fear it’s only a matter of time.

Other assorted notes:

- there’s no prank on the first day, Chloé is too tired for this shit. She’s camping outside to make SURE Adrien doesn’t get derailed, and then she is taking a nap.

- Alya, being an aspiring reporter, has been following the Bourgeois Breakdown on the news. She gets a little too excited on realizing that Chloé is in her class, and asks several blunt, too personal Questions about how Chloé feels about the divorce. Chloé, who has been dealing with this shit for months from “real” reporters she isn’t allowed to “snap” at lest it affect her mom or dad negatively, punches Alya in the face. Alya at least admits later she probably deserved it.

- honestly, Chloé’s just more ready to throw hands in general. She’s swinging between total exhaustion and “Tired of Being, Time to go Apeshit”.

- she is, at all times, two (2) seconds from either kicking the shit out of someone, or taking a nap.

- Everyone, bar Sabrina and Adrien, is a little awkward around Chloé now, cause how do they handle “girl who was kind of a bitch to all of us since kindergarten, but now all her family’s shit has been airing on live TV for three months?”

- Marinette and Chloé kind of have a shaky truce, since Chloé ran into the Dupain-Cheng Bakery to escape a hoard of reporters, and Marinette hid her behind the counter and got said reporters to leave. They’re not really friends, but they aren’t enemies, nor are they “I leave you alone, you leave me alone”. It’s weirdly tense, but both girls are refusing to break the awkward stalemate.

- Bustier keeps trying to recommend Chloé to see the school guidance Counsellor, Chloé keeps saying no cause, “He didn’t do shit about me picking on Dupain-Cheng for literal years, this is DEFINITELY above his paygrade”.

- Chloé is refusing to take any blame for the divorce. Oh, she’s definitely had the thoughts of “are they splitting because of me?”, but how the pair of them are HANDLING the divorce? All the public mudslinging and arguments, and screaming at each other on the nightly news? That, Chloé is refusing to acknowledge as in any way relating to herself. It’s mostly spite, but also the healthiest part of her mindset regarding the whole thing

- André gets Akumatized about 6 different times as “Homewrecker”, before Chloé grabs a butterfly on purpose to go “Hawk Moth, if you turn my dad into a divorce Akuma one more fucking time, I am going to track you down with the express purpose of ripping out your spine, beating you with it, and then putting it back by feeding you each individual vertebrae”. When Homewrecker 7 turns up, someone posts a video of Chloé just screaming obscenities at the sky.

- André does lose the next mayoral election, at least partially as a result of this nonsense. D'argencourt also loses, so instead we have the dark horse of the mayoral race, Onyx Beauty, who was honestly not expecting to win. She’s kind of in shock the first week.

- Zoé and Mr. Lee find out about all this by accident, on the nightly news. How exactly do you handle finding out you are part of an affair destabilizing Parisian politics?

- the Miracuclass starts getting dragged in, cause André and Audrey start an extremely petty “funding race”, trying to boost their popularities by supporting “up and coming youth talent”. Chloé starts giving out cards that say “Sorry you got stuck in the middle with me”.

- both André and Audrey are rich enough they can drag other celebrities into their nonsense. Jagged Stone is, so far, the only one who managed to escape. Clara Nightengale called him for a week straight with horror stories.

- We find out that, after the Akuma shit started, lots of people took their business out of Paris, so yes, Bob Roth IS, in fact, one of the only people in Paris funding stuff. He keeps egging Audrey and André on, cause all their shit is making him lots of money. A tabloid calls the three of them “Paris’ Most Toxic Throuple!”. Chloé posts a video that is nothing but an adorable parakeet screaming bloody murder for two minutes.

- Lila comes in all prepared with extravagant lies that will make her new class swoon over her, but everyone is so burnt out on any kind of celebrity related drama that it isn’t nearly as effective as she wants it to be. She has more success supplying cool random facts, Italian cultural knowledge, acting trivia, and cute fox videos. Her entire plot gets derailed because she isn’t lying much, if at all, and everyone loves her as herself. 

- Gabriel is actually getting kind of uncomfortable Akumatizing André and Audrey over the divorce, so he starts giving them really lame powers. Or at least, powers he THINKS are lame. After the third glitter related disaster, he starts running ideas by Nathalie, and keeps a specific list of “useless” powers he can give to Audrey and André.

Thoughts? Feelings? Opinions? How you’d write something like this?

-

I am loving this tbh!

[elllisaaa]

HANDS ON YOUR KNEES - OH SEUNGMIN

KINKTOBER DAY 20 - COLLAR/LEASH + JEALOUSY

SUMMARY : despite you wearing the collar seungmin bought you, some guy still had the nerves to try and hit on you. your boyfriend had to do something, and to remind you that no one could ever treat you as good as he could.

-> pairing : bf!seungmin x fem!reader

-> words count : 1.6k

-> genre : smut

-> warnings : dom!seungmin x sub!reader, jealousy (obviously), collar & leash (obviously too), mentions of alcohol, a jerk's bothering reader, dirty talk, degradation, praising, a bit of breathe play, swearing, blowjob, deephtroating, face fucking, use of 'slut', 'kitten' & 'whore', begging, hair pulling, cum eating, dacraphilia,

+ the way i'm depicting gunil does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> author's note : i'm finally back at it !! i'm so, so sorry for the horrendeous delay on this, I hope you'll still like the rest of the event regardless, kisses and hugs !

-> masterlist | xdh masterlist | kinktober 2024

It was never that Seungmin was possessive, because he knew that you were his without any doubt, it was that he liked to show you off, to show off how good you were to him and how he owned you in every way possible. That was why he bought you a collar. At first, you only wore it in private, when it was only you and Seungmin at home. But as time went on, you came to like the feeling of the leather against your neck, and how it screamed that you were his. So little by little, you started to wear it in outside settings too, always taking care of matching your outfit to the color of your collar. 

And it honestly made Seungmin go crazy everytime you would wear it, but even more so now that you were doing it with people around. He was proud of telling the world that you were his girlfriend, but the way you were not afraid of showing that you were his too, it made him fall even more in love with you - and it turned him on a whole new level too. 

Regarding all of this, Seungmin couldn’t understand why some random guy thought it would be appropriate to try to flirt with you when you were obviously wearing your collar, when he was by your side only a few minutes earlier. He had just left for a moment to go to the bathroom, and when he came back, this lame dude was trying to steal you away from him. He was confident that this wouldn’t happen - because you loved him and he trusted you - but the audacity that guy had made him angrier than he thought it would. 

Seungmin approached the two of you calmly, sneaking one arm around your waist and kissing your temple before he looked up at the guy with a smirk that he didn’t even try to hide. And the way you immediately leaned against him with a sigh of relief made him see this guy in an even worse light. He couldn’t hear what he was saying to you, but guessing by the way you reacted at his interruption, he must have been pestering you since he left. 

“- What’s going on darling ? Are you okay ? Who’s this ?

- Yeah, I’m alright, he was gonna leave, right ?”

You took a sip of your beer, not really looking back at the man that had been bothering you, but Seungmin didn’t hesitate to stare at him with a condescending look on his face. Though, the guy wasn’t disposed to leave yet apparently, despite the fact that you were clearly uninterested, and that you were clearly taken. And it was starting to get on Seungmin’s nerves. 

“- No, I’m not leaving. Who are you anyway man ? Can’t you see I was talking to this girl ?”

The way he was talking about you like you were not even there made your boyfriend’s jaw clench, and you could feel the rage radiating from him. His jealousy was talking for him, and it was never good, for either of you. You intertwined your fingers with his, trying to remind him of your presence by his side and to soothe him a little. 

“- This girl is my fucking girlfriend, man. So either you leave by yourself or I’ll make you leave.”

Seungmin didn’t strike as a guy who could fight, but you knew he could definitely put this dude down. However, you didn’t want it to get to that point. Yes, he had been annoying, but you just wanted to enjoy this evening with your boyfriend, and it had been a long time since your schedules aligned to go out together, you didn’t want this opportunity to be ruined by a motherfucker who couldn’t take a hint, or no for an answer. 

“- Please, just go away. As I told you, I have a boyfriend. It’s best for you to leave us alone.”

The man huffed, but one of his friends pulled him back and apologized for him. However, it did not ease the feelings stirring inside of Seungmin. He tried to concentrate on the bitter taste of beer going down his throat, and on the way you were slowly stroking his arm, but all he wanted was to remind you that you were his. He knew it was irrational, because you were the first one to send that guy off, and that there was no reason for him to feel that jealous over a loser like him, but he was, and he needed to have you. 

“- We’re going home. Now.

- What ? But Seungmin, we just got here !

- We’ll come back another time, but right now I want to be inside you so we’re going home, darling.”

Your cheeks heated up, and you pushed him towards the exit of the bar, worried that someone might have heard him saying filthy things. But honestly, you weren’t opposed to his plan. Sex when Seungmin was jealous was always so good you couldn’t say no. He was quiet on the way home, one hand settled high up your thigh as he drove the both of you through the city and back to your shared apartment. As soon as you opened the door, Seungmin led you to the bedroom and began to rummage through a drawer that was reserved for all the toys you owned. And you knew very well what he was searching for. 

“- Kneel down on the floor darling, hands on your knees.”

You positioned yourself like he had asked you to, in the exact same spot you always found yourself whenever Seungmin needed to unwind. When your boyfriend looked back at you, his gaze had visibly darkened, and he was holding the leash that could be attached to your collar. He chuckled when he saw your eyes glimmer as he approached you, hooking the leash into the collar and experimentally tugging on it. His smirk widened when you let out a relieved sigh.

“- You look so pretty like this, all fucking mine.”

You nodded along at his words, nuzzling your face against his hand when he stroked your cheek. You were all his. Seungmin unbuttoned his jeans with one hand, keeping the leash wrapped around his other hand, and he pulled them down enough so his half hard cock could spring free. Seeing you with your collar and leash, that he had specifically bought for you, chosen for you, put on you himself always did things to him. 

“- I’m gonna fuck your throat, darling. And you’re gonna take it like the good little slut you are.

- Yes, please.”

Seungmin grin widened as you whined when he tugged on the leash, pushing you closer to him until your face was pressed against his hard cock. The view was sinful, and nasty, but that was what the both of you loved. 

“- Open your mouth.”

You obeyed on the spot, your tongue lolling out and your doe eyes looking up at him. Seungmin groaned as he tugged on the leash harder, forcing his tip inside of your mouth. And you let him push his dick further down, relaxing your throat to the max until he was buried to the hilt. Seungmin groaned when you swallowed around him, his eyes filled with lust and something darker you knew all too well. 

“- Such a good little whore you are kitten.”

You kept your hands on your knees like he had asked you to as he started to rock his hips back and forth, his veiny length dragging inside of your mouth. Seungmin tugged on the leash to have you meet his moves every time, invading all your senses as you tried to keep your gag reflex under control. You whined quietly around him when he pulled particularly hard on your collar, the pressure making the wet spot in your panties significantly grow. That was when he seemed to lose his self control. 

“- Fuck…”

When he went silent like this and not bombarding you with his dirty words anymore was when he was about to ruin you. And that was exactly what he did. His hips snapped forward at a rapid pace, one hand tugging on the leash to bring you back to him in sync with his every move, and the other closed up in a fist in your hair, pushing you down even further on his cock. His groans and moans were loud, saliva pooling at the corner of your mouth the deeper you took him down your throat, and you couldn’t even complain about the way he was ruining you because the look of pure ecstasy on his face and his airy moans could have been enough to make you cum. 

Without long, Seungmin was grunting about how good and warm you felt, about how he was going to fill your mouth with his cum and leave his mark on you. He tugged on the leash every so often, making you gag around his cock and producing a song that brought him even closer to the edge. Your cheeks were covered in tears, your makeup just as ruined as you were, but it didn’t matter when Seungmin was moaning as he shot his load down your throat. A satisfied smirk spread on his lips as you swallowed it all down without him having to tell you anything - he really did train you to be his perfect good girl. He crouched down in front of you, still on your knees and out of breath, pulling on your leash and making you whine until your faces were inches apart. 

“- You’re mine, darling, all mine.”

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my works.

xdh masterlist (fill in this to be added) :

@lala-----------lala @urlocal-user @seomisaho @straytiny127

kinktober masterlist (comment or dm to be added) :

@d-dilemma @bath1lda @anxiousskylar @mikaelles @leeknowinggg

[kittynugg]

hi i wrote some stangst

forgst

words: 1,737

p.s: REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!! credit to my pal @empressofsamoyeds (soorry for the tag) for the idea! ALSO DO NOT TAG THIS AS SHIP CONTENT. THIS IS NOT FOR YOU IF YOU SHIP THEM.

Stan stepped out of the shower, shuddering as the cold air hit his skin. Like every other time he showered he was quick to towel himself off and get dressed in the first clothes he could get his hands on. So.. the clothes he’d been wearing for the past month, now? They smelled. He’d have to do something about that sooner or later.

The mirror was fogged up as he tied up his damp hair, but he could still see just enough of what he was doing to get it done. 

He stared at his blurry reflection. When he reached to wipe the condensation off of the surface he hesitated, his expression somehow going more blank than that numbness he’d been used to for years. That was.. Funny. He kinda looked like Ford with his hair up like that and the mirror all foggy.

No, he really looked like him.

That familiar empty feeling washed over him as he looked into the mirror, his brain filling in the blanks made by the distorted surface. A pair of glasses. A coat. The haunted look of a guy who’d seen things that shouldn’t even be possible in his eyes.

It took him a while to tear his attention away, maybe a couple of minutes, but once he did he rubbed the sting out of his eyes and left the bathroom. His “walk” had become more of a trudge in the past few weeks. He did whatever that was down the hall. Something about almost seeing his face made his feet even heavier, made the decision to get up that morning even more regrettable.

But it also gave him this weird resolve to keep going.

Maybe if he didn’t kill himself he could actually see that face. Alive, safe, maybe even happy. 

He kicked open the door to the office or study he was staying in, announcing in a sitcom-y voice, “honey, I’m home!” Then he put his hands on his hips with a distant grin. “Oh, wait! I don’t have a wife! Or a husband! I’m all alone and nobody fuckin’ loves me because the only person who ever did is god-knows-where!” An unhinged laugh bubbled up in his chest.

“..Anyway,” he flattened after finishing his manic display, then collapsed face-first into the couch he’d been ‘sleeping’ on. Nice couch. Felt like the only thing in the world that actually supported him. “But it’s an inanimate object,” Ford would say, not getting the joke. 

And then he’d say something like.. “You’re an inanimate object, nerd.” Then Ford would tell him that was wrong and that he wasn’t making any sense. Stan would just laugh at him.

Back in the real world, he shifted on the cushions to make himself comfortable. He knew just how bad the idea was. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get up. Right now, he just couldn’t force himself to care. Whenever he was up, he’d be up. Wasn’t like anything was waiting for him. Ford actually wasn’t on the other side of that portal, facing whatever it was that had him terrified enough to speak to him again. 

Everything was fine. Great, even! So great that he didn’t want to think about it anymore. He heaved a muffled sigh into the couch, knowing that if he pulled his face away from it now it’d be stained with tears. Now he was fucking crying.

Pa would tell him to man up and do something about it. When he tried, his arms wouldn’t move to push him up and his legs only shifted into a more comfortable position. The couch was warm. The basement was so, so cold.

Get up.

He tried again. This time he was too lazy to move at all.

Repeating the command didn’t work. Get up.

Just get up. You need to get up so you can work on the portal so you can get Ford back so you won’t have a reason to cry anymore. Come on, this is the first step. The first step is always the hardest. Up up up. Please.

Instead of listening, his body just sighed again. Then he folded his arms under his forehead to put some space between his face and the couch and shut his eyes.

----

Eventually, he found himself blearily waking up with half of his body hanging on the couch and the rest on the floor. The very first thing that caught his eye was the light from the window glinting against Ford’s glasses, abandoned on the table where he could be reminded of why he was still kicking every time he woke up.

He peeled himself off the hardwood floor with a grunt and stood there for a moment as his shitty excuse for a brain sputtered and revved like his car when he tried to start it. He’d have to do something about that sooner or later.

…

Ford. Right.

A hesitant hand reached toward the glasses, and he turned them in his hand. The lenses were smudged. Ford never let his glasses get smudged. Always crystal clear or it was like he didn’t have them at all, they had to be perfect. He wondered if Ford still carried a spare on him. If he didn’t.. Shit, Stan couldn’t even imagine that. Not just being sucked into whatever nightmare he was so worried about but having to deal with it blind.

The thought of Ford, his brother, of all the people on this Earth (or.. outside of it), going through that made him sick. Maybe he should eat sometime today. Slice of toast might settle his stomach down for a bit. 

He stared down at the spectacles in his hand and shook his head, then wiped them on his shirt. Lifting them up to the window shone enough light through the lenses for him to see that they were still smudged, just.. Spread around. His shirt was dirty.

Typical, he just made it worse. A look was cast around the room, nearly untouched in the month he’d been there.  “Just fuckin’ poetic,” he whispered to himself if only to test if he even had it in him to talk. “It’s just like my life.” His eyes narrowed at the glasses. “..In a way.”

Barely resisting the urge to throw the damn thing, he set the glasses back on the table and looked toward the door. He should get to work.

He picked up the glasses again, leaving the room with the gait of someone wading in cement. 

It was the same autopilot he’d been on for ages that led him back into the bathroom. When he slipped the glasses onto his face, his vision actually cleared a little. Maybe he should look into getting an eye test sometime. 

He put up a finger and spoke in his best Ford impression, “I may be a little bookworm, but I know what I’m talking about!” The sheer accuracy of the voice made him chuckle. He sounded just like him!

When he found himself staring at his reflection again, his other hand reached for the shower. The knob creaked as he turned it to the highest temperature and he watched absently as the mirror fogged up again.

Hair was up. Glasses were on.

They really were twins..

His shoulders drooped, and after a few seconds of careful consideration he spoke up. “Hey, Poindexter.” No, that wasn’t right. Say his name. “..Ford.” 

Another pause. Then he folded his arms behind his back and spoke in that impression again. “Stanley,” he greeted himself under his breath. Something about it, something about hearing Ford’s voice and– and almost seeing his face was..

It hurt.

But it felt good. The kind of hurt that he couldn’t help but reach for, like the burn of alcohol or a cigarette. Speaking of which, he was running out. He’d have to do something about that sooner or later. Not now. He was busy right now.

“I’m, uh..” his fingertips tapped together in a subconscious tic. “Still trying to get you back, Ford.” A smile spread across his face and he gestured behind him with his thumb. “I’ve been reading your textbooks, yanno, it’s actually startin’ to make sense. It’s not as fancy and sophisticated as you had it but it’s something to show for all the work I’ve been puttin’ in..”

Arms made their way behind his back again and he straightened his posture a little. “My idiot brother, learning physics..” A wistful sigh from “Ford”. “And it only took the worst tragedy of your life to finally kickstart it.” His expression softened, and he moved to place his hand on a shoulder that wasn’t there. His fingers twitched. “You know I’m proud of you, right? Not everyone would go through this much effort for.. Anyone, really.”

He needed to hear that. From the real Ford. This was good enough for now.

“I know, yeah.. I just– I hope you’re still out there. If you’re dead, or.. worse, I don’t know what I’d do with myself, Ford. I don’t know what I’d fucking do, and–” he took in a sharp breath, running a hand down the side of his face. His nails dug into the skin. “And I’m really scared to think about it.”

Silence.

His voice cracked when he spoke again. “..I’m scared, Ford.” The glasses over his eyes and the fog fading from the mirror left him with nothing. Nothing. A reminder of just how little he had. That was it.

And Ford offered no response.

Tears dirtied the lenses of the glasses even more, so he took them off and swiped at his eyes. He set them on the rim of the sink. This was stupid. All of this was stupid. Why was he still here? Why was he still holding on?

His legs wobbled underneath him and he just.. sat on the floor and gave in. With a shaky breath, he gave his tears a moment to fall and murmured into his knees, “because you’re my brother.”

It took him a few minutes. Maybe half an hour. But eventually, Stan pushed himself up and retrieved Ford’s glasses. He rinsed them in the sink to clean the dried tears off of them and only stopped when they were spotless. Crystal clear. The way Ford liked them.

Turning to leave, he muttered, “Love you, bro.”

“I love you too, Stanley. I’m sorry for everything.”

..He already forgave him.

(note: might be a part two with ford if im feeling brave)

[middle-ans]

George was just doing routine laundry on his sudden day off in the middle of the week. He wasn't about to blatantly give the hot, gorgeous, enigmatic neighbor a surprise glimpse of what later found a floral affiliation with the shade of soft, blushing pink on his doorstep.

1.5k words

What, I'm silly. And I love that scene from Desperate Housewives with the nanny in the laundry room at Scavo's house, btw Lynnette should've killed Tom on the spot when she found out.

The laundry room was empty, just as George had hoped. It was midweek, mid-morning - the kind of time when most people in the building were at work or otherwise occupied. He had an unexpected day off, a last-minute schedule change at the boutique, and he figured he might as well take advantage of it to catch up on chores.

The space was lit by long strips of flickering fluorescent lights, but the real glow came from the high, frosted windows under the ceiling, where sunlight slanted in at an angle, casting everything in warm, golden hues. George felt it on his skin, a soft caress of warmth as he set his laundry basket down and started sorting through his clothes.

It wasn’t much - a few shirts, some socks, a hoodie he’d worn twice but wasn’t ready to call dirty. As he stuffed them into the washing machine, his gaze fell to his own clothes, the loose pajama pants and the slightly oversized sleep shirt. The pants weren’t exactly dirty, but he’d been wearing them all morning, and the thought struck him that he might as well throw them in, too.

And if he was doing that, well…

There was something else, a pair of lacy panties from the lingerie store he worked at, a test mock-up of what was the inspiration for the new collection, and Alessandra, the owner & designer, had handed them to him after catching his eye lingering on the panties for a second longer. 'Perfect for your hips' she said, and George didn't mind. He preferred lace, especially low cut ones and those that barely covered what they were meant for. So standing next to the open door of the washing machine he thought why not?

George bit his lip, he hooked his thumbs into the elastic, shimmying the pajamas down his hips. The air bit at his bare thighs, raising goosebumps. The panties clung stubbornly, lace against skin still sleep-warm, until he wiggled them free with a huff.

“In you go,” he whispered to them, dropping the panties into the machine with a flourish.

Fumbling with the buttons on the mode panel, George hummed a soft tune to himself, arching his back in a sweet stretch to relieve any residual stiffness in his muscles from sleep. One leg bent at the knee, hips raised high as he reached for the appropriate wash mode. All in peace. Until a throat cleared behind him.

George froze.

Oh, no.

Oh, fuck.

He turned his head just enough to catch a glimpse over his shoulder, and there he was - his hot neighbor. The one he only ever exchanged nods and polite hey, man greetings with in the lobby. The one with warm, dark eyes and tattooed arms and plump, unfairly pretty lips. The one whose name George didn’t even know, because they’d never properly introduced themselves. And those lips. Those lips were slightly parted, his lower one caught just between his teeth before his tongue flicked out, slow and deliberate, wetting it.

And yet here he was, standing in the doorway, staring.

George realized, with a sudden and violent awareness, that he was bent over in front of this man, pants pooled around his ankles, pussy fully on display in the golden morning light. It backlit him like some kind of deranged Renaissance painting - ‘Boy With Panties and Regret’.

Oh, fuck.

Lewis coughed, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Hope I’m not interrupting… laundry yoga?”

George yanked his sleep shirt down with a speed that could have broken records, straightening up so fast he almost lost his balance. He fumbled for his pants, heart pounding in his chest, face heating up so much he was sure he’d combust on the spot.

“I, uh, hi-” his voice cracked. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Lewis leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, gaze steady and unreadable except for the slight amusement in his eyes.

“Hi yourself. Didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” he said, voice smooth, rich, a little teasing. “Didn’t mean to, uh… see anything, either. Not something I'd expect with my morning coffee.”

“Oh my God,” George wanted to melt into the floor.

“But,” Lewis tilted his head. “If I did see something, just know it was a beautiful start to my day.”

George made a sound. A strangled, embarrassed, horrified little sound.

Lewis smiled, slow and warm.

“Nice lace, by the way.”

George squirmed, covering half his face with a hand. He sighed, straightening the waistband of his pajama pants and tilted his head, examining the pattern on them. A huge cluster of sneezing cats. Bloody Alex.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, lips going to be bitten into a hideous state by the end of this day. “It's from the store where I work.”

Lewis hums, viewing him like a curious fruitcake.

“So you work in a lingerie store?” his lashes fall a breath lower, a tiny movement that frames the heavy dark gaze with an even greater veil of mystery. “Might as well hire you as a model. With a curve like that.”

George sucked in a sharp breath, grabbing the now empty laundry basket.

“You, I- this never happened.”

Lewis tilted his head, considering him.

“Sure it didn’t.”

“It didn’t!”

Lewis’s lips curled, that same thoughtful, very entertained expression lingering on his face.

“Then why are you blushing, sweetheart?”

George made a strangled sound, high and distressed.

“You cannot just, just walk in here and see that and say things like that!”

“See what?” Lewis asked, all fake innocence. “I was just coming in to do my laundry.”

George glared at him.

“You licked your lips.”

Lewis exhaled a small, amused laugh.

“What can I say? You looked good enough to eat.”

George's soul left his body.

“I’m leaving.”

Lewis stepped aside to let him pass, but as George stormed past him, he heard it - low and teasing, just under his breath-

“Guess I’ll be dreaming about that all day, huh?”

George didn’t stop. Didn’t look back.

But his heart?

His heart was racing.

The rest of the day stretched on, slow and heavy with tension. George couldn't shake the feeling that he was walking around in a haze, his mind a swirling mess of thoughts. Every time he tried to distract himself - whether by reading, watching TV, or scrolling through his phone - his thoughts inevitably returned to that moment in the laundry room.

Lewis’s smirk, his low voice, the way his gaze had lingered on George’s exposed skin, it was all too much to ignore. Each time he thought about it, a wave of embarrassment would roll over him, followed by a rush of something else, something hotter. He hadn’t expected to be so... intrigued.

He shifted from room to room, trying to distract himself, but his mind kept returning to Lewis. To that moment. To the way his body had reacted to the teasing words, to the knowing look in Lewis's eyes.

George felt wound up, nervous but intrigued, and more than a little unsure of what he was supposed to be feeling. Was he embarrassed? Yes, of course. But was he also... curious? Absolutely.

When the sun began to set, casting golden hues across the apartment, George found himself walking aimlessly to the window, pulling back the curtain slightly to peer out. The evening sky was cloudless, and he could see the moon just starting to rise. He leaned against the window frame, lost in thought, his mind flickering between confusion and a growing curiosity.

He was still replaying the events of the morning in his mind, the feel of Lewis’s eyes on him, the teasing words he’d heard just as he’d stormed past him.

But then - there was a knock on his door.

George’s heart skipped in his chest, suddenly alert, as if the sound had shaken him from his thoughts. He froze, staring at the door for a few moments as though trying to figure out if he had imagined it.

No. It came again, more insistent this time.

He quickly glanced around the apartment, feeling the flush rise on his cheeks as though he’d just been caught in the middle of something he wasn’t supposed to be doing.

For a brief second, he wondered if it was just his nerves. But when he heard the knock again, George knew.

He opened the door cautiously, unsure of what to expect.

Nothing.

Well, not nothing - there, on the floor in front of him, was a bouquet of soft pink peonies, their petals open wide, and a folded piece of paper resting carefully beneath them.

His heart pounded in his chest, confusion and excitement swirling together. Slowly, he bent down and picked up the flowers, the faint scent of them hitting his senses and calming him, if only slightly.

He unfolded the note, his hands trembling ever so slightly.

The note was simple. Short. But every word hit George like a punch to the gut. The giggle though was so resonant bouncing off the walls that it was heard even by the man standing a few floors above, leaning against the wall and grinning like crazy, trying to catch his breath.

“For a beautiful boy who gave me the best part of my morning.

I couldn’t help but notice the color of these peonies matches something else I saw today.

Sweet, soft, and impossible to forget. Still thinking about it. Still thinking about you.”

And on the other side was hopeful “I’ll be around if you want to pick up where we left off.”.

[shujigutz]

is hanma a good daddy to his kids or not. Bc I can see him falling into the abusive parent role but he’s also just a chill guy 😢

!! warning :: death mentions, profanity, could be ooc cuz im projecting, just hanma idk

*

; hanma is a good father. IF he tries. his ass could NOT be a dad (cuz he's a mom, he's the one that got pregnant /j)

; he's the type to take very silly pictures of your kids, maybe send it to you when you're away like "lmao yn look at this 🤣🤣" and it's just a pic of his camera an inch away from your child's face in 0.5x

; will have lighthearted but funny banters with your kids, doesn't matter if they're young or not, he's a clown himself and he would clown with his kids too

; i feel as though hanma is, in a way, emotionally constipated. he has a lot to say but he doesn't know where to start. that's why he looks very distant at times and even uninterested, but really he does give a fuck.

; like doesn't he hate everyone. one can say it's arrogance, i'd say he's a hateful piece of shit /lh

; but ANYWAYYY. i don't see hanma being one to want many kids depending on the timeline. if it's the good timeline, he'd be happy enough to have three or two kids with you, he wants to raise them with you because he loves you and he wants to see maybe, just maybe, a duplicate of him but only if back then he was raised differently.

; i think if he does raise them well and one day they just.. look like him, a part of him somewhat heals. it softens and soothes him, even though perhaps he's going to mourn what he could've been. but if he were like that, he probably would've never met you lol.

; other timelines however.. only child or none. hanma doesn't like putting his loved ones at risk, he knows that he's living on the edge, perhaps live today but die tomorrow, so why risk it all even if he really wants to create a family with you? he loves you, he does, but he'd rather put a bullet through his own skull than one day witness it go through his kid's, or yours, instead.

; not just that, he also doesn't want to burden you significantly if one day he gets killed on a mission. as much as he loves to have little rascals wearing both you and him out, it's only fun when he's also in it, he doesn't want to one day leave it all to you and let you carry it on your shoulders alone. i like to think that hanma's the type of guy to prefer it to happen to him than to someone he loves, HES NOT A NONCHALANT MF. THAT MAN IS NOT GONNA SURVIVE THE IDGAF WARRR

; as very chalant as he can be, he is also blunt about it. he says it as it is, he doesn't sugar coat, why would he when it's a serious matter? even if it wasn't, he wouldn't do it either because beating around the bush gives him an itch on the ass 😇

; in conclusion, he leans towards a considerate, calculative father. so an okay one, 6/10, would be a good friend to his kids actually once they've matured and reached an age where he and they can relate on such topics.

; if u disagree i won't listen cuz we're talking abt a MAN here, hanma as a MAN, A MAAAAANNN, HES A MANNN 💯💯💯

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Taken By Surprise

Request: Roy is always super careful to keep his eyes front and centre when passing the busy Richmond Ladies team dressing room. One day, he assumes it's empty, but it's not 🔥

Roy Kent x Reader

1.9k words (word count got away from me again, oops)

Warnings: Roy being a bit of a peeping tom for a minute, fem masturbation w/a vibrator, fingering, dirty talk

Sometimes, Roy found he really liked being the last person in the building. It was quiet and peaceful, free from the shouts and noises that usually filled the Dog Track. He appreciated the solitude, especially because it meant the women’s changing room would be empty.

He was a man, but he never wanted to be a creep. He always averted his eyes from their changing room, kept his gaze down or straight ahead as he strolled briskly by the always open door, ignoring the sounds of chattering and the scents of the different perfumes and body sprays the women used. And of course, doing his best to avoid the sight of the women in their sports bras and underwear, strolling around casually, not paying any mind when the men passed by. But while Roy respected the female athletes and acknowledged how incredibly hardworking and talented they were, he couldn’t deny how pretty some of them were. Especially one striker in particular.

So, to avoid any sort of temptation, Roy always either left with the group of Greyhounds who strolled out after training, pleasantly distracted by their conversations, or else sat around in his office until he was sure everyone else was gone. Tonight, because he wanted to spend some extra time looking over his lineup for an upcoming match, he chose the latter.

He hummed to himself as he walked out, pondering what he should pick up for dinner, when a peculiar sound caught his attention. It was… a buzzing of some kind. A weirdly familiar buzzing, actually. One that had an almost Pavlovian effect on the lower regions of his body.

He paused in the doorway, gulping at what he saw in what should have an empty changing room.

Your back was to him as you sat on the bench, covered only by the thin towel you wore, hair still damp from the shower you’d taken after training. From his spot in the doorway, he could see that your legs were spread slightly, and your head was rolling back leisurely as the monotone buzzing continued.

He should say something, he scolded himself. Surely, you thought you were alone; it was wrong of him to take advantage of your obliviousness just so he could indulge in a little fantasy. No matter how attracted to you he’d been since your first day at Nelson Road, he couldn’t just sit here, all slack-jawed and watching you pleasure yourself.

His stupid fucking principles won out over his wicked desires, prompting him to clear his throat, a louder, gruffer sound than he intended.

Your vibrator fell to the floor with a deafening clatter, continuing to buzz and hum as if you weren’t completely mortified. Even before you turned around with wide eyes, you knew exactly who had interrupted you. That growling voice filled every single one of your fantasies, including the one you’d been enjoying before the man himself interrupted you.

“Coach Kent,” you choked out, entire body burning with embarrassment when you finally remembered how to speak. “I, er, thought you’d gone for the day.”

He blinked at you, straining to keep his eyes trained on your pretty face instead of letting them wander down your barely covered form. “I kinda thought the same. About you, I mean. And everyone else.”

You tugged your towel closer around yourself, praying he couldn’t see the blush that surely covered every inch of skin. “Sometimes, I, um, stay late,” you tried to explain, doing your best to ignore the vibrator that somehow sounded louder the longer Roy Kent looked at you. “Do some…” You gulped, finally looking down at the traitorous toy. “… relaxing.”

Roy nodded slowly, wearing that pensive expression he often sported, the one where you swore you could see the cogs turning in his mind. “Relaxing,” he finally repeated, taking a tentative step into the changing room.

His footsteps echoed on the tile floor until he stood in front of the little purple object that started your abject humiliation. You winced, tightening your grip on what suddenly felt like a far too flimsy towel, watching the man who occupied way too many of your daydreams drop to one knee and pick up your vibrator and turn it off, silencing the changing room.

Still kneeling, Roy finally looked up into your face, raising those thick eyebrows at you as he handed you the toy. His voice was low, laced with hesitation and maybe some hope. “Need any help with your… relaxing?”

Your mouth went dry as you wrapped your hand around the vibrator, noting the way Roy didn’t quite let go. “Is that an offer, Coach Kent?” you breathed.

He nodded, the tip of his tongue sticking out to wet his lips. “If you want it to be.”

Oh fuck. Some voice in your head suggested pinching yourself, to make sure this wasn’t just a rerun of a dirty dream you’d had a couple weeks ago. But when his fingers brushed against yours, you were brought back to reality, a reality where Roy Kent was handing you a sex toy while looking at you with pure lust in those brown eyes.

“I’d appreciate some help,” you finally managed, a pulsing tingle spreading through your body. “Your help, that is.”

Roy glanced over his shoulder, as though making sure the two of you were truly alone. “Everyone from the men’s side is gone. What about here?”

Despite the embarrassment and lust fighting for priority in your chest, you let out a small giggle. “You really think I’d be doing that if anyone was around?”

The grin he shot you went straight between your legs. “Just let me lock the doors then. Don’t think we want to take any chances.” In a flash, he’d shut and locked every door he could find before turning his fiery gaze back to you. He strode back, oozing confidence now, and straddled the bench beside you. “C’mere,” he growled softly.

Your arousal overcoming whatever remained of your embarrassment, you did as you were told, scooching closer to the manager whose eyes bore into yours severely. With a grunt, he laid his hands on you, his grip firm but softer than you expected, and shifted you until you were sitting with your back against his chest, an intimate position that made your heart race so fast you were sure Roy could feel it through your towel.

“May I?” he asked, tugging at the only thing you wore. When you nodded, he hooked a finger under your chin and turned your face towards his. “Use your words, darling.”

Darling. Oh hell, when was the last time a man made you gulp like this? “Yes, please,” you managed to whisper, your eyes shifting between his mouth and those fiery brown eyes.

With a pleased little hum, Roy swiftly shifted the towel until your cunt was exposed. When you gasped at the cool air against your sex, Roy let out a little chuckle that rumbled against your body. “Someone cold?” he tsked. His fingers began flittering up your thigh. “Should I warm you up?” With that, he attached his mouth to yours harshly, letting his tongue glide against yours as his fingers found your cunt.

You moaned into each other’s mouths as he inched two thick fingers into you, the sensation filling you better than you ever could on your own. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though he was savoring the feeling of your walls pulsing around his digits.

“You feel so fucking good,” he mumbled against your mouth. “Already so fucking wet. What were you thinking about before I interrupted you?”

Play coy, you told yourself. Don’t be so damn desperate-

But then his thumb found your clit with ease, rubbing it with a tenderness you never would have expected from Roy Kent.

“You,” you moaned, letting your head fall back onto his shoulder. “Was thinking about you, Roy.”

A strangled noise rippled through his chest and throat as he inched his fingers deeper. “Me?” he asked in a thick honeyed voice. “What about me?”

No use trying to be cool anymore. “Was imagining you bending me over-” The feeling of his fingers curling upwards had you whining. “-over in the shower,” you finished.

Roy let out a curious little hum. “I’ll keep that in mind for later,” he teased. His mouth found your neck, planting rough kisses along your skin. A shiver flew through your body when he let his tongue glide over the sensitive spot just below your ear. “Oh, do we like that?”

Your only response was to widen your already spread legs, silently begging Roy to bury his fingers deeper in your aching cunt. He obliged, finding the spot that made your back arch. His wicked smile felt good against your skin as he chuckled darkly.

“You’re doing so fucking good for me,” he cooed as indecently wet noises filled the changing room. “Just the way I imagined you would.” His breath was hot in your ear. “And I’ve imagined you a lot,” he admitted in a low voice. He moaned when he felt your walls tighten around him, a sign of your approaching climax.

His free hand wandered up your body until he found your breast. Keeping up the rough pace he’d set in your cunt, he cupped your breast, roughly groping you and pinching your nipple until it hardened to his liking. He began squirming behind you, his obvious hardon pressing against you deliciously. His moans, his touch, his scent, his everything had you gushing around his fingers, creating soaked noises you didn’t even know were possible.

“Roy,” you panted, rutting against his hand. “I’m so fucking close.”

He nodded, returning his mouth to your neck. “I know, baby,” he groaned. A third finger slid into your sopping cunt. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Gonna feel so good around my cock after this.”

His dirty words had your head spinning. “I want your cock so bad,” you babbled, vision beginning to blur. “Please, Roy. Please fuck me.”

“After,” he promised. “Cum all over my fingers, and then I’ll fuck you all you want.”

Those magical words throbbed through your body, all the way down to your pussy. “Yes,” you gasped as the tension in your lower tummy threatened to snap. “Please, Roy, please.”

His fingers scraped along your walls just right, sending you right over the edge. All you could see were stars as you felt yourself soak his fingers, his hand, his wrist, the bench you sat on. Later, you’d realize it was probably the most you’d ever cum in your life; it would have been almost embarrassing if it wasn’t obvious that Roy Kent was nothing short of pleased by your orgasm. Your body jerked against his as he pumped in and out roughly, determined to leave you a sopping mess. His pants were painfully tight at the sight of you writhing and moaning, so desperate and beautiful, just for him.

When you finally began to come down from your high, he pressed a kiss to your temple and carefully removed his fingers from your aching cunt. He brought his fingers to his mouth, holding your gaze as he licked the dripping juices you’d left him with.

“Delicious,” he moaned, throwing his head back. “Could taste you all day, gorgeous.”

The sight had your pussy throbbing again, begging him to make good on his promise.

“You could do more than taste,” you reminded him coyly, leaning back into him, desperate to feel that bulge closer to your still needy cunt. “A lot more.”

He nodded, returning his hand to your folds to massage you gently, earning a loud moan from you. “Someone mentioned something about being bent over in the showers?” he teased. “I think that could be arranged.”

[cod-indulgences]

currently feeling ugh with my body again.. could you write small boobs chubby reader (it me) receiving some love with any of the men pls? 🥺🥺

Kyle Garrick x female!reader, insecure!reader, body image issues, low self esteem, small breasts!reader, chubby!reader, tits man Kyle Garrick, angst, fluff, fingering, breast worship, overstimulation, fingering

anon you and others sent me similar asks. this is me too, writing this felt very cathartic and I love you for sending this in. I hope it helps you!.......it's also over 3K

You wouldn't call yourself shy, just....practical. No need to draw more attention to your assets, or lack thereof.

Being fat was sexy, if you were a specific kind of fat. Men didn't come running for apron bellies or thick thighs, if there weren't big, lush tits to balance them out. And even while your flesh had expanded, growing around you like Saturn's rings, your breasts had stayed small. Clothes were a nightmare, and you got in the habit early of wearing crop tops instead of actual bras, wanting to avoid the discomfort of underwrire digging into your belly when you had to bend and move.

And then you met Gaz.

Your crush was inevitable and all-encompassing. He shone like the sun to you, even with that dumb hat, and you were left sighing over him in private. It stayed private though, because one of the first things you'd heard him proudly announce was that he was a tits guy- and your heart had sunk to your shoes. You'd known those sort of men, glancing past you for a woman with cleavage, with the sort of breasts that filled lingerie and bounced enticingly.

So when he started flirting with you- unmistakable flirting, innuendoes slipped in with coffee and invitations to dinner, compliments on your hair and clothes- you decided to take what you could get, as long as you could get it. It might just be a way to fill time for him, but you were so pathetically gone on this man that even the scraps handed out until someone with proper curves came through felt like a feast.

So you accepted the compliments and dinner invitations, kissed Gaz in your doorway and pushed aside the creeping discomfort as his hands curved around your back, your belly bumped up against him before your tits did. You could take this much. Even when the kisses got heated, his tongue slipping against yours and drawing lines down your neck, you kept your clothes on, a barrier to hold off the inevitable let down. You could handle him eventually finding someone better, you couldn't handle his face twisted up in disappointment at the sight of your body.

So when you got bold after a couple drinks and sat in his lap, let his hands rise up and cup your tits through your shirt, you didn't expect the shuddering moan Gaz released into your shoulder, the little "fuck, baby" and how it went straight through to your core. His hand squeezed and you whined a little, nipple perking up as he thumbed across it.

"Gaz- Gaz, wait, shit," you stutter, and he licks across your throat, his mouth lingering at the neckline of your shirt.

He squeezes again, and you moan a little yourself. It's like nothing you've ever felt touching yourself, or the handful of boys you'd slept with, ages ago.

"So sexy, so fucking hot," he says, and it's like cold water down your back.

"Gaz, wait- no, stop!" You push at his shoulders and he goes back, frowning when you climb off his lap. This is worse than disappointment. "I don't- don't fucking lie to me!" You feel too hot, shame burning your cheeks. "Don't give me that shit! I thought you at least liked me enough to not- to not do this-" You try not to let any tears fall. You don't want to cry.

He's just sitting here, staring at you like he's confused. "What? What are you talking about? What lies?" He says, and it's too much.

"The fucking- the sexy shit! Like this- like I'm something you want- just, I'd rather you leave, ok? Just go, and we can pretend it never happened." You sit on the far end of your couch, arms wrapped around yourself. You don't want to look at him, and when he stands up, your mouth trembles. Don't cry. Don't cry.

You expect him to go to the door. Instead he crouches in front of you, and takes your hands in his. You don't stop him.

"Baby," he says, and oh fuck that hurts. "Why do you think I'm lying?" He looks so fucking sad. Big dark eyes and his cheeks are still flushed, and he'd been smiling at you when you took his hand and brought it to your chest.

You can't look him in the eye while you lay it all out. "I know I'm not- not what you want. Or like. And you're my friend and I l-like you, a lot, but you can't do this. You can't say this shit and pretend it's true when I'm the one you're saying it to. I know better. People like me don't get to be sexy." His hand cups your cheek, and brushes away the release that managed to slip out. "So you can go, and I'm sorry it went this way, but I can't sit here while you're wishing I had the curves I know you want."

Gaz doesn't leave, or move away, and when you dare to glance at him you get shocked to see his eyes are wet. His other hand let's go of yours to cup your other cheek, and he leans in to kiss your forehead. "If I ever," he says, and kisses your eyelid, "meet any of the fuckers who told you things like that," your other eyelid, oh, your heart, "I'm going to kill them." He kisses your lips, soft, and you whimper at the tenderness of it.

"You, just as you are, are so sexy to me- no, stop," and he holds your face to look at him instead of away. "I don't know who started you thinking I want tits more than you-"

"You did!" You burst out. "You say it all the time, talking with the soldiers, about how you love a nice set of tits on a woman, how the breasts are the best part, whatever else, it's practically a catchphrase." The words are bitter in your mouth. "And I'm not just the fat girl, I'm the bad kind of fat, without anything good to balance out the bad. That's just how I am, and I thought I would be okay with the dates and the flirting, because I knew it wouldn't last anyway. But I'm not, and I'm sorry I wasted your time, and just....I just..."

He looks surprised, and then upset again. "No, baby, no. I'm sorry. I didn't know it would- sound like that. Look, okay yes, I love breasts, always will, but don't you get it's not about them being big for me? I don't care what size. I just," he laughs, a little incredulous, "I like tits. Big or small, whatever, they're all fucking awesome!"

You yank his hands away and he falls back on his ass, surprised. "Not like me! Not when the little ones are on top of, of all this!" You grab your stomach and shake it, flesh bouncing, a reminder of just what you carry. "I haven't been little anywhere it matters since I was fucking twelve."

Now he's standing up, looming over you. "Okay, first of all- you think I'm that fucking shallow? That all I want in a woman is how she looks? Fuck you." You swallow, suddenly ashamed. "And two, if you think you're that unattractive, you need to open your eyes. If you'd put your weight down on me properly instead of hovering like I was gonna break, you'd have known just how sexy I find you." He cups his hand over his groin, and you stutter, too close to eye level where his fingers outline a thick, heavy shape. You had been hovering, uneasy at sitting fully on his lap, when he'd sucked on your neck and touched your chest. Gaz boxes you in, hands on the back of the couch, and puts his face up close to yours. "If you tell me to go because you don't like me, then I'll go. But I'm not leaving just because you think I'm going to be fucking disappointed at seeing more of the body I've been jerking off over for fucking weeks."

His mouth crashes into yours, and you moan, all tangled up with emotions, shame and desire, the embers of lust fanned when he sucks on your tongue. He's big and strong around you, the smell of his skin and soap filling your nose, and when Gaz encourages you to turn and lay flat you obey. He settles over you, his hips wedged between yours, and you both moan together when he hitches up a little and rubs up against you. Two layers of pants mean you can't feel much, but it's enough, and he does it again as you mouth shakily at his cheek, sucking on his earlobe. It's messy and a little high strung, and your eyes are still teary when Gaz lifts his hand to your chest and waits until you swallow hard and nod. His fingertips are gentle, tracing the curve of your breast until they find your nipple again, and you fight down the wave of shame as you see how his whole hand covers you. Barely enough for a handful, that just can't be what he wants, you're not enough- but he's looking at you with such dark, hot eyes, and when you whine a little as his fingers start to play with your nipple, you see his pupils dilate. Fuck.

"No bra?" He murmurs, and pinches just a little through the fabric of your top, just enough to make you squirm under him.

"No," you gasp, "just a shirt and a- a crop top thing, I never wear them," and he moans a little, a soft fuck that he breathes out before suddenly getting his mouth onto your other breast.

You squeak, it's hot and wet, his tongue working your nipple through the thin fabric, and your thighs open up a little more as he grinds against you. He's just- he's enthusiastic, pinching and sucking, pressed up against your body from head to hip. There's a warm liquid lust pooling in your belly, and your chest heaves as you gasp for breath. You can feel him now, no hovering, hot and hard up between your legs.

Suddenly your clothes are too much after all. You push his shoulders, and as Gaz sits back tug at his shirt, yanking the collar up over his head until he starts helping. He's gorgeous, full pecs with little dark nipples that perk up under your fingers, the muscles of his abdomen flexing when you gently trace along his iliac crest, a little shivering twitch going through the flesh. His cock is bulging out his pants, and you picture it sheathed inside you and feel your pussy gush a little.

Gaz sets his hands at the hem of your shirt, and you clench at the heat in his eyes. You're trying, you're dizzy with arousal and so turned on you can't speak, but there's still fear there. But he's so, so sweet, and you want it so bad, and nod helplessly for him to draw the fabric up and away.

Your bra-top comes away with the shirt, and you don't even have time to cover yourself before Gaz has your hands in his, fingers intertwined, and he's fucking moaning over you. "Baby, fuck, if you knew how fucking luscious you look," and he's diving back into you, eating the moans that slip from your lips as he gets both hands on your tits.

Small, too small, but he gropes and squeezes them, letting the flesh fill his palms, tugging your nipples between his fingers. He releases your mouth and goes down again to suck fully on one nipple, and you shout, the sensation of hot-wet suction so much more intense without fabric in the way.

"Fuck, baby, yes- just like that, c'mon," he mumbles around your tit, and you realize you're grinding against his cock. Your pussy clenches and you moan, trying to lift your hips up, aching for something you can't get while you're both still half-dressed. Gaz's skin is silky smooth against yours, sweating, and you squirm a hand between your bodies to pull at the button of his jeans. Two fingers slip in and you manage to rub the base of his cock, feeling the heavy flesh and the heat, and he swears again and grinds up harder.

You're going to leave a wet spot, you realize, and the Gaz dares to oh-so-gently bite down, teeth scraping your nipple, and you feel your body turn to jelly.

It's so good, so hot, like nothing you've ever had. Forget body image or shame, you're reduced to broken moans and begging, you're fucking begging, and Gaz works your pants open blindly to shove a hand down. His fingers scrape past your pubic hair and then he's suddenly there, everything hot-wet-slick, your clit bumping against the heel of his hand as he slips a fingertip against your hole. Then two fingers, sliding in, and he groans so hard against your breast that you can feel the vibrations in your heartbeat.

"So wet, baby, so wet, all for me? All this from these sweet little tits getting the love they deserve?" He grinds his palm in and starts fucking you on his fingers. You can hear the wet sloppy sounds, and it only makes you clench, whining. Your other nipple aches where he's been plucking at it, and when he moves his mouth there instead, you shout and clamp down. "Fuuuuck, fuck baby do that again-" He bites this nipple, and you obey and let your pussy contract on his fingers, perfect and not enough.

You blearily look down and see your chest, Gaz's dark head pillowed on you, his lips sucking at the peak of your tit. Your other breast is littered with little red marks from his facial hair, your nipple swollen and red, and it's so erotic and sensual you can't breathe. Suddenly your tits are sexy, plump little things with sensitive nipples and soft round bottoms, your belly and sides tingling as Gaz drags his fingers over your flesh, groping, yanking at your pants to give himself room to get a handful of your ass. Your hips jerk up, and your moaning climbs in pitch as the instinct takes over, chasing a high that is so close it hurts- truly hurts, your clit throbbing and pussy squeezing where his fingers keep pumping in and out of you.

Gaz lifts his head, holding your nipple in his teeth as he tugs, and his big hot eyes hold your gaze as your mouth drops open on a moan that doesn't end, spiraling up and up as your nipples ache and pussy squeezes, a long hard clench, before it finally breaks into an orgasm that leaves you shaking and limp, sobbing in relief, the new gush of slick around Gaz's fingers dripping over his hand and wrist.

Your voice comes back in stops and starts. "Fuck- fuck, Gaz, oh God, please, I can't- can't-" because he's still fucking you, sitting up to stare at his hand between your legs, pants and panties shoved down your thighs, and you're aware of the bounce of your flesh. The old fear tries to crawl back up, but Gaz is working is cock out of his pants, and you gape at him. He's huge, thick and heavy, so hard he's wet at the tip. When his hand slows you shove at your clothes, trying to get the twisted fabric out of the way.

"You don't have to," he starts, but you kick a leg free and hook it over his hip, pushing his jeans down with your heel.

"I want to," you gasp, and help him guide the tip of his cock to your hole.

Your mind is a little more clear now, and you take the chance to memorize Gaz's face as he slides into you, how his eyes close and mouth falls open, the soft moaning sounds. He's a stretch, and you're slick as sin, you make it work. He hitches up your hips, and you breathe deeply to relax your muscles, and suddenly he's there, all the way in, an ache in your cunt and your clit as thin flesh rearranges around him. Gaz drops his head to your shoulder, braced on one elbow, and his free hand comes up again to cup your breast, squeezing and lifting the nipple up for a kiss.

You get a kiss too, hot and sweet, and moan into his mouth when he finally starts moving.

You're sore and sensitive, whining at each bump of your clit against his groin, as he picks up speed and starts really fucking you- the couch creaks and your thighs open as wide as they can under the onslaught- he's so big, almost too big, and you gasp and tell him this, making him whine in return.

"So big," you say again, and feel his hips stutter. "Gaz, fuck-"

"Say it again," he moans, and you yelp as he sucks again on your nipple, harder, pinching the other and tugging until your back arches.

"Fuck! Fuck, Gaz, you're too big, fucking my- my little cunt-" he grunts and slams in harder, fuck, "god, please, please don't stop, I'm gonna come again!"

Gaz fucks his cock into you like a machine, wet squelches echoing as your pussy clamps down, trying to hold him in, your clit rubbing against his groin and pubic hair, and you come again as he opens his jaw and sucks your whole breast into his mouth- hot-tight-wet, his tongue slurping over your skin, your nipple pulled so tight against the roof of his mouth and your other swollen and pinched under his fingers. You feel the distant gush of your pussy on his cock, the way it's suddenly so much wetter, sloppier, and Gaz shouts into your chest as he slams his hips in and stills, his cock pumping you full of come, grinding up into your dripping cunt to get as deep as possible.

He's heavy on you, but not too much, and as he slows and you both catch your breath you wrap your arms around his shoulders, clinging. There's a fragile feeling in your chest, under the sweat and aches and tingling skin, and your wordless begging for kisses against his head brings him up to you. He's as gentle as you are, slow and sweet, and the fragility firms, settles.

Gaz chuckles a little against your mouth, and when you hum a question at him, he answers, "I had a whole plan for you. Seduction and shit, take you to a proper fancy place to eat. Get you in an actual bed, especially." You start to laugh as well, seeing the picture you make- you're naked except for socks and your pants and underwear hanging off one ankle, Gaz with his jeans rucked down his thighs and a wet spot on the crotch. Your breasts are swollen and tingling along with your pussy as he gently pulls out, and you wince a little, feeling the aches in your hips and back.

"Not quite what you expected, then?" You tease, but there's a little old shiver down your back.

Bless him, Gaz just lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses your knuckles. "Better than," he says, and holds your eyes with his. "I promise."

It's a heavy moment, and your eyes blink back tears, feeling sweet, precious, so stupid with your previous outbursts in the face of such affection in his eyes- and then your stomach grumbles, and you both burst into giggles. You grin at him. "Is that offer for a fancy dinner on the table still?"

Gaz winks. "Only if I get to have you for dessert after."

[gabessquishytum]

Friend got me hooked on this oswaldxour oc concept we've been passing back and forth to make more and more deranged lol

Anyway dreamling but Dream is a crime boss who runs a club frequented by rich guys and criminals. It's neutral ground. Hob is a server there. Dream gets pervily obsessed with Hob who's always gently refused his advances which makes dream want him even more. In revenge dream makes him wear different, more revealing costumes to the other servers. I'm thinking shorts so short his hairy arse was exposed, translucent blouses, or shirts cut low enough to expose most of the hoboobies, or slinky little mini dresses

Hob would very much like to keep his job, as his criminal record makes it that this is the only work he could find, and obeys Dream.

Until one day Robin gets sick, or his scummy landlord jacks up rent trying to get Hob to 'pay in kind', or maybe even both, and Hob goes to Dream for a loan. Let's just say Dream makes him earn every red hot penny with interest for all those months Hob refused Dream

I do love these scenarios where Dream is powerful and fucking terrifying and Hob is still just some guy.

Hob is trying SO hard to keep on the straight and narrow for Robin's sake. He's a good dad - Robin is always clean and well fed and dressed nice, and he always gets to school on time. Even though it means that Hob runs himself ragged and hasn't had new clothes in so long, he's getting holes in all his shirts. His job sucks but at least he can work nights and be around for Robin in the morning and at school pickup time.

It's a precarious life and it really doesn't take much for it to fall apart. The rent goes up, and Robin needs medicine for a nasty chest infection. Hob can't really pick up more shifts at work because he needs to be at home with his sick son. He's sold everything else and it suddenly occurs to him one night that fuck it, he might as well sell himself too.

So. He goes to Dream and he swallows his pride, and he begs. He begs for Dream to help him out, just a couple of hundred to cover the month's rent and antibiotics. Dream listens with utter joy and pleasure in his heart. Finally, his darling has come to him. Of course Dream will help. He pays 6 months of Hob’s rent and has his men transfer little Robin to a private clinic where he can recover properly with all the meds he needs.

It's a lot more than Hob had expected. He knows that he'll have to pay. As Dream hands him a new outfit (its lingerie - a push-up bra, stockings and suspenders. The whole ensemble is red, the colour of Dream’s ruby pendant), Hob is trembling. He lets Dream touch him. The truth is, he'd love to be kissed and romanced, but he knows how bad Dream is. He fully expects to be roughly used and hurt in all manner of ways.

But he gets a hell of a surprise. Dream is cruel, yes. But his cruelty comes in the form of relentless pleasure. He makes Hob cum on his cock until he's overstimulated and screaming, and then he does it all over again. He doesn't leave a single bruise but he wrings Hob dry, leaves him twitching and barely conscious, and then takes even more. Its a sweet torture and Hob is totally helpless. The worst part is, he's totally ruined for any other man. Now he's obsessed with Dream. Now his life will never be normal again! And of course, Dream won't go easy... he'll make Hob beg again and again.

Dream's darling is finally his <3

[benz12313]

Surface Tension Ch.2 - Ridoc x OC!Doll

|Images are not mine|

Description: Despite wanting to be anywhere but the rider's quadrant, Daisy Jenkins loves her family, and so begrudgingly, she volunteers herself to go and throw herself to the mercy of dragons. She struggles with her confidence, but will a certain man with a penchant for mischief and a flirtatious attitude show her that she doesn't have to hide? That she too has a voice that can and should be heard? Will she be bold enough to claim him as her own? Or will she let him slip through her fingers, forever just out of reach? {Slow Burn/Mated Dragons/Friends to Lovers}

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 2,030

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Two - Forming Bonds

I watched each candidate after me become a cadet, with my back to the pillar behind me. I scanned the crowd, silent, watching, and silently begging that this would all be over soon. The adrenaline crash after all the excitement on the parapet was leaving me tired, and it wasn’t even over yet. We still have to be assigned squads, eat dinner, and settle into the barracks; where mom said we’d be separated by sex, and then be stuffed in the a room of bunks in rows. 

Don’t run. 

It was the only thing they would say about forming squads, but based on my mother’s dark chuckle when she’d said it… Yeah, there was no doubt in my mind that it wasn’t as simple as they’d advised.

Don’t run. 

I scanned over the crowd. An hour had passed, the Basgiath bells marking the hour just a few minutes ago. I wish I could just slip into bed now. The armor my father had forged using his metal wielding signet wasn’t foreign to me. I’d been training with the newly formed corset for months now, but it was wearing on me. I couldn’t wait to sit, the thing got fucking heavy after a while. Taking it off would be impossible other than when showering until after threshing, when we were assigned our own dorms and safety while sleeping was nearly guaranteed. 

Just because it’s against the codex to attack a rider while they sleep, doesn’t mean that some don’t have the balls to do it anyway. 

It wasn’t much longer until the three upperclassmen that had been on the other side of the parapet crossed, and I knew we were done. Every cadet standing in the courtyard now, were the ones who had made it. Who got to live through their first day. I couldn’t help but notice the significant size difference from when we’d waited below, before we ever even stepped foot on a single stair. How many of us have died?

The girl from the parapet pushed through my mind, and I flinched. I’d done good ignoring those thoughts since we’d made it to the courtyard, since Ridoc Gamlyn had disappeared into the crowd. I let my lip tremble for a second before shoving it into the darkest corners of my mind, and shutting the door. No time for softness now. Not here. Not when I wasn’t the only one off to the side, scanning the crowd, watching for strength and weakness. The red-haired monster from before was across the courtyard, towering over most of the rest of us first-years, and scanning the crowd, just as I was. 

His mere existence seemed to shove me closer to that dangerous zone of fight or flight with every second. Everything about him set me on edge, something rubbing me wrong with his silence, that menacing aura he exuded. In my experience, which was admittedly narrow based on the fact that I come from a small mountain village of barely 100 people; bullies are usually loud, boisterous, and trying to be the biggest person in the room. This man was quiet, calculating, and…well he’s still the biggest person in the room. His entire demeanor set me on edge, and I knew with certainty; I wouldn’t be ignoring him anytime soon. In fact, I was certain he would star in a few of my nightmares after his display on the parapet. 

The Commandant stepped forward and I sighed, stepping forward and facing the dais just like every other cadet in the courtyard. Even the second and third years were at attention. He congratulated the 301 of us that survived, but my heart lurched when he said that 67 of us did not make it. 67 people died today. I knew the crowd had looked smaller, but so many of us just…gone. Swallowed by the rain, poor balance, and…other cadets. My eyes burned and I cursed myself for my weakness. My weak heart would be the death of me here if I didn’t learn how to keep it in check. 

He went on, talking about our future, being intimidating as hell, and subtly warning us of the dangers. Introducing the teachers, and then finishing with a threat to not make us his problem. Great. 

Nyra, who was apparently senior wingleader of the quadrant, started talking, and sorting us into squads. I was sorted into 2nd Squad, Flame Section, Second Wing, along with two other girls who looked thick as thieves already. One with ombre hair, the ends silver and was my height, no more than an inch of difference. Sorrengail. She’d made a spectacle of herself apparently. Enough so that when I’d made it across, people were still talking about her confrontation with another cadet. The girl next to her was a bit taller than me and Sorrengail, with deep brown skin, and several rows of braids all pinned back. They whispered in front of me, Sorrengail muttering facts to the other girl, and I intently listened. Any info is good info. 

Then Ridoc was called to our squad, and he slipped into line on my right. He gave me a side-eyed look, massive grin on his face, and then he fucking winked, making me fight the blush rising, again. Damn idiotic handsome face of his. 

“Wow, must be fate Doll.” He teased, and I rolled my eyes, staying quiet as they finished making squads. “C’mon you know you missed me.” I breathed an irritated sigh before I noticed Sorrengail stiffen. Eyes scanning the dais I noticed the wingleaders arguing over something. But then we were moved to Fourth Wing and if the terrifying yet somehow sexual smirk our new wingleader was sending directly at Sorrengail in front of me was anything to go by, it was definitely to do with her. Well shit. 

“They need a room.” I muttered quiet enough that only Ridoc could hear and he damn near choked himself trying to suppress a chuckle. I turned red. Why the hell did I say that?? Maybe Ridoc was rubbing off on me. Either way I’m fucking mortified I said that out loud. 

The wingleader started a surprisingly charismatic speech, that was obviously a setup to something else. Don’t run. The sentence coursed threw me as I heard the familiar sound of wing beats.

I didn’t see my parents dragons often, but when you live in a generally quiet place the sound is easily recognizable.  

Eight fucking dragons land on the wall, chunks of stone falling. “Don’t run.” I mutter, fear coursing through me for just a moment before I locked my body down. I got as stiff as I could so my body wouldn’t betray me and move on its own. I notice Ridoc twitch next to me and a new fear courses through me. My hand flies before I can stop it, gripping his wrist tightly and his eyes fly to mine. “Don’t run, my parents said don’t run.” I whisper and he nods as my fingers tighten, pressing harder into his skin. I look forward again. “Don’t run. Don’t run. Don’t run.” I mutter like a fucking mantra that will somehow keep me alive. 

Three run. Three piles of ash remain.

The smell of sulfur stings my nose. My heart hammers in my chest, but I don’t flinch. I stand. I stare at no dragon in particular, sure not to meet one’s gaze. They were beautiful though, every single one of them. I had always loved dragons, even if the riders weren’t my ideal choice in quadrants. They were powerful, majestic, and so..fucking..huge. Being able to mount one was definitely going to be a challenge. Not impossible though. 

I barely heard our wingleader as he continued to speak. All I could do was watch the dragons; their serpentine movements, their silent authority. Fear was still there, gripping me as tightly as I was gripping Ridoc, who had finally been shut up. Even he had the sense to stay quiet in the presence of the dragons. 

Only when the dragons disappeared, and our squad leaders (ours being Dain Aetos, a stern guy who seemed very…strict, but somehow more than strict) started leading us to the cafeteria did I let go of Ridoc. I was a bit too shaken, and frankly much too tired to be embarrassed I’d held him that long. He didn’t say anything, just shooting me a playful grin, much to my surprise. Maybe he was just as shaken as I was. I don’t think he’d ever admit that though. 

Throughout dinner I was silent, listening to the others introduce themselves, none of them really going into extreme detail. Guess it’s not surprising that none of us trust each other yet. 

“And you.” Aetos turns to me, and I gulp. 

“Ugh, Daisy Jenkins.” I say simply and Sorrengail, Violet, perks up from my right. You can see the equations in her eyes as she thinks on my name. 

“As in Mikael Jenkins, famous metal wielding rider?” She asked and the others eyes widened and I nodded, cheeks surely going pink. 

“He helps forge a lot of Navarre’s weapons, and ugh, armor too. But weapons are easier for him to mass produce.” That’s why we lived in the mountains to begin with. Plenty of metal to forge. Also why he had been allowed an early retirement. 

“Badass Doll.” Ridoc says, sending me a wink from where he sat across the table from me, boredly pushing back on his chair. He only grinned wider when I looked away. 

Aetos moved on, until he gave us directions to head to our rooms. Warning us to make sure and get plenty of rest, wakeup is at 6, which frankly is just cruel. Mornings have never been my forte.

I was nearly there, just behind Rhiannon and Violet, when Ridoc grabbed my arm and pulled me to a side hallway. After inspecting if we were alone or not, and coming to the conclusion that we were, he turned his attention to me, making me nervously grab the straps of my small pack. 

His eyes were playful, but heated, and focused directly on me, making me entirely too self conscious. This was different than the looks before, more intense and focused. Like every ounce of his attention was focused entirely on me. There was no fighting it now, from my neck up felt like it was on fire. His eyes narrowed and he grinned wide, voice dropping low. 

“Hey Doll,” He wasn’t even touching me now, hands moving to sit casually in his pockets, but he might as well have been caging me in place the way my body felt like it was frozen. 

“Hey Ridoc,” I squeaked out, and his smile softened a bit. Still ever playful though. 

“Was wondering…well figured I’d ask you if wanted to find a empty room and celebrate still being alive with me.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at me and I gulped.

“Ugh-“ I started, and something flashed in his eyes, gone faster than I could identify what it was. 

“Don’t feel bad if it’s a no though, not too late for me to find someone else.” He added and my stomach sank. Why did that not feel right? There was no way I actually wanted to sleep with someone I just met, right? 

“Um, we probably shouldn’t. Being squad mates and all?” It sounded more like a question than anything else, but he nodded, still grinning. Just…it felt colder now, despite his face not having changed at all. 

“Right, no worries Doll. Go on, I’ll see ya in the morning yeah?” I backed away, feeling a bit sick to my stomach, though I couldn’t rightly place why. That’s what I wanted right? To curl up in bed and let myself relax for the first time all day. Why did his eyes look like they'd lost their life? And why did that bother me more than anything else?

“Yeah.” It was practically a whisper. “See you in the morning.” He nodded and I turned, leaving him in the abandoned hallway. Why do I feel like that was a mistake?

Author's Note: Thank you to all that have showed the first chapter some love! It's definitely been fun getting back into posting. Just wanted to say that I've started two taglists; one for this story and one for all my Ridoc fics from here on out, including this story. If you'd like to be added to either just let me know which one! Thank you again for reading! :)

@xadenswhore @jinx108