#but timing is an even colder bitch

[tame-a-messenger]

just read the ask about what the announcement could be and how you said it wouldn't take long to organise SSG.

I work in immersive theatre and events, an undertaking like SSG even within an internal company would be a massive undertaking and could take between 3 months to 6 months to plan properly depending on where it's taking place.

You have to book the site where it's taking place, making sure no one else is around because Smosh are notoriously loud while filming. You have to make sure everyone is available, as a business they need to transport everyone out to the site and if it's far enough away put the cast and crew up in hotels as it's going to be a multi-day shoot and it may be too far for them to get back home. You also have to advertise it well in advance to maximise the excitement and views of SSG. There are also a ton of other details that I have no clue about because I don't work within film/TV/digital content. (Also call me stupid, but I think a sleepaway camp themed SSG would be hilarious)

I'm glad we can talk about this!

I also was taking into account most of the things you mentioned (booking a site that would be unbothersome, the hotels/lodging, everyone being available for at least a week straight(?), and the actual process of getting all the cast and crew to location) and I still believe that is something they could get done, with a lot of hard work.

My biggest worries regarding it (and the biggest reasons I feel they haven't done it already) are making sure everyone gets to go, with most of the cast being freelance and therefore busy.

Another BIG thing is having enough crew to film IRL content. Since most of the crew works with 3 steady-cams and the occasional hand-cam, it is a big undertaking if they tried to film anything as chaotic as SSG Wild West or any of the other Games versions.

I don't think they currently have enough people to film it well. (meaning they would have to hire on more camera operators and everything else) Which I'm imagining is not only a big chunk of change $ but also hiring new people could make for an uncomfortable atmosphere.

As for them advertising it- I haven't seen ONE person that's in the Smosh fanbase not want them to continue doing SSG/SWG. I'm EXREMELY CONFIDENT that if they did some crowd funding they would hit the goal. No question. Which leads me onto the next big thing-

I'm curious if they haven't done it because of legal issues regarding health and safety.

Most of the games they would do involved a lot of potentially harmful 'stunts' that the cast did themselves (obviously), like the mouse trap blindfolded thing they did in SSG Camp, or the mechanical bull riding in Wild West (pretty much every season had some sort of dangerous activity) so I could see them not wanting to have someone get hurt and have legal action taken. (obviously I wouldn't want someone to get hurt regardless, but we're talking about absolutes)

I still think it's possible for them to do it, it would just take someone with gusto to head the whole thing (something Smosh has been missing recently). It makes me really miss some of the old producers.

I think I mentioned that if they were going to do SSG they would have already been planning it for at least a month (so that would be the minimum you said- 3 months) so I'm starting to think because that wasn't what they were teasing today that we aren't going to get SSG but SWG is still on the table?... maybe...?

So biggest things I can see causing trouble-

Not enough crew

Cast having enough freetime for a week(?) of videos

Legal is scary

Not having someone willing to lead the charge (it is a big undertaking)(but not impossible)

If they wanted to they would. But benefit of the doubt says timing is a cold hearted bitch.

[fionnaskyborn]

The results are in: I need to replay the entirety of Halo

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hey!!

could i maybe get a roommate fic where carmy’s getting ridden and about to come and has no filter so it slips out that he loves her

Baby, Please.

it’s been on the tip of his tongue for too long. it was only a matter of time.

roommate!carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. carmy’s a bit pathetic at some points in this (you’re welcome)

word count - 2.4k

authors note - ah shit, here we go again. I always end writing carmy as a little bitch in these, sorry lmao (i’m not). but here it is!! a love confession!! will they ever talk about anything, I hear you ask? we’ll see…

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

series masterlist. masterlist. inbox.

Carmen automatically smiles when he hears your keys clinking against the lock in the front door.

As soon as he clocks it, he rolls his eyes at himself. You’re not supposed to get butterflies in your stomach when your roommate comes home on a random Thursday evening.

And yet here he is, sitting on the couch, trying to play it cool - as if he hasn’t been waiting for your return for the last hour and a half.

You’re usually back from work before he is, and suddenly he’s grateful for it. He couldn’t do this everyday. Sitting, waiting for you to come home as if you’ve been gone for months rather than nine or so hours. The apartment feels a little bigger, a little colder without you in it. Carmy wonders how he lived here for so long without you.

You swing the door open, kicking off your shoes instantly. Throwing your bag onto the counter, you take in the sight of your home. It’s clean, tidied, more organised than you’ve seen it in a while. Carmy’s been putting the work in while you’ve been gone.

“What happened, Carmen? Are you okay?”

“W-what?”

“Were you stress cleaning?”

He laughs, all full and warm.

“No, babe. Just regular cleaning.”

He rises from the couch, coming over to press a kiss into your cheek before slipping your jacket off your shoulders and hanging it up behind you.

“Carmen, what’s that smell?”

“Tomato and basil slow baked rigatoni. Homemade garlic bread. And then, if you have any room left… my homemade snickerdoodles.”

“Did you… cook for me?”

“Yes I did, baby. It’s the least I can do after you’ve been at work all day.”

It’s all so domestic, so thoughtful, so heartfelt, that you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. You step forward into his space, looping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips. He grins at you when you pull away.

“What was that for?”

“A thank you,” you whisper, kissing him again. “I really won the roommate lottery, huh?”

“We both did,” he chuckles, covering your face in kisses while you squirm in his arms.

Eventually, he lets you go, but not before raking his eyes up and down your figure very slowly. He takes you in - your work clothes, the way your hair is falling out slightly, your bare feet. As much as you want to let him devour you, you’re starving. A different kind of hunger to his.

“Dinner first. That after.”

“What after?” he plays coy, trying to fight the smirk off his face.

“Don’t play dumb, Berzatto. It’s not a good look on you.”

With that, you leave the kitchen to get changed, laughing as you go.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You sink further into Carmy’s side on the couch, trying desperately to pay attention to the vintage sitcom that’s playing on the TV.

All you can focus on are the rough fingertips tracing patterns on the bare skin of your thigh. They keep getting higher, brushing the seam of your pyjama shorts occasionally. Every so often, Carmy leans in to press a kiss onto your temple, into your hair, behind your ear. You rest your head on his chest, soothed by the steady beat of his heart.

“That was the best meal I’ve had in a long time, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I could eat that pasta every day for the rest of my life and die a happy woman.”

Carmy laughs, and the sound rumbles through both of you.

“I don’t cook for you often enough.”

You sit up, then, turning in your seat to look him in the eyes.

“Carmen. You cook for me almost every day.”

“Yeah, but… not really.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Most of the time when I’m cooking at home, I’m trying a new recipe, or perfecting an old one - for the restaurant. And then we both eat it for dinner. But tonight, I actually picked a recipe I knew you’d love, and made it for you. Because I don’t cook for you often enough.”

You lean in to press a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling as you do it.

“You know I don’t mind either way, right? Whatever you make is always delicious. Except for that weird duck mousse from last week. That was… awful.”

He shoves you playfully, laughing when you topple backwards onto the couch cushions. Climbing onto you, he digs his fingers into your ribs, chuckling as you try to squirm away from him.

“Stop, before I kick you in the stomach or something,” you plead, wrapping your legs around his waist to try and keep him still.

When that doesn’t work, you resort to dirtier tactics. You roll your hips up into his, watching as his face changes when he realises what you’re doing. The tickling stops, replaced by fingertips gripping your sides in a completely different way.

“Fuck,” he murmurs into your neck as he drops his head down. “You know exactly what you’re doing. Minx.”

“Well you wouldn’t stop, so…”

“You’re usually telling me not to stop, honey. ‘Oh, Carmen, don’t stop baby, don’t stop’���”

You laugh as he mocks you, half in disbelief, half in amusement.

“You’re such a dick.”

“You still want me though, huh?”

The atmosphere in the room shifts, tension thickening in the air. Carmy’s eyes go dark as he looks down at you, gaze raking across your face. You nod in response to his question, chewing at your bottom lip.

“You gonna let me thank you for dinner properly, Berzatto?

Who is he to say no to an offer like that?

You tighten your legs around his waist and pull his hips down to yours, flipping you both over on the couch. You settle with your thighs on either side of his, your weight keeping him anchored down to the cushions.

“You look so pretty underneath me,” you whisper, tracing the features of his face with your gentle fingertips. “Pretty, pretty boy.”

Carmy’s hips buck up into yours at the praise.

“You’re so fucking predictable,” you giggle as he groans. “You love this, don’t you?”

“Love what?”

His voice is all strained and breathy already, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Being my bitch.”

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, but his tightening grip on your waist gives him away. You lean in to press your forehead to his, breathing him in for a moment. Carmy tilts his head up to meet your lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth as you whine.

You tangle your fingers into his hair, melding your lips against his. You let him explore your mouth, winding your hips down into him in a steady motion. You lean back to pull his shirt over his head, yours following suit shortly afterwards and ending up in a pile on the floor.

Carmy kisses his way across your chest, nipping and sucking as he goes. You’re way past the don’t leave marks stage. Neither of you care anymore. You rake your nails down his stomach, smirking when he shudders, goosebumps rising across his skin.

You tip forward to bite at the muscle of Carmy’s neck, licking a stripe up his throat as you go. He tastes like his minty shower gel and cinnamon sugar from the snickerdoodles. It’s the perfect combination to make your mouth water.

He tangles his fingers into the waistband of your pyjama shorts, trying to tug them down. You go to stand up to help him, but the whine he lets out stops you in your tracks.

“Don’t go anywhere.”

“Carmen, if you want my pants off, you need to let me stand up.”

“You can do it here.”

He pulls you back down into his lap, ignoring your raised eyebrows. You manage to slip your shorts and panties down one leg, rising awkwardly on the other to try and get them off. You kick them to the floor, chuckling as you settle back over Carmy’s hips.

“Happy now?”

“Very happy,” he mumbles, reattaching his lips to your jaw. “The happiest. Got the prettiest girl in the world naked in my lap right now.”

Heat rises across your chest at the compliment, head ducking down to avoid his eyes.

“Shut up,” you mutter, tugging down the waistband of Carmy’s sweatpants.

You pull them and his boxers off in one fell swoop, dropping them onto the floor. When you take him in your hand, he reaches out and grabs your wrist, looking up at you through thick lashes.

“Wait, baby.”

You freeze instantly, finally meeting his gaze.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong. Just need to get you ready first.”

You shake your head, gentle smile on your face. He’s always thinking about you. Selfless boy.

“I am more than ready, Carmen.”

When he looks at you with skepticism in his eyes, you decide to make a point.

You trail your fingers down your stomach, pulling them through your wetness when you reach it. Sliding a digit inside, you rock your hips, throwing your head back. You can both hear how ready you are, and it makes Carmy groan.

“Oh, fuck.”

He’s whispering in awe, careful not to spook you when you’re so clearly in your own little world. You add another finger, and Carmy has to grip your hips as hard as he can to stop himself from flipping you over and having his way with you.

You remove your fingers and shove them straight into Carmy’s mouth, panting as he laves his tongue around them. You both whine in unison. Always so in sync.

“I’m more than ready,” you whisper into his jaw. “Promise.”

“I believe you,” he croaks, wrecked already. “Please.”

“You’re so pretty when you beg.”

You line him up, sinking down ever so slowly. You want to feel every inch, every ridge, every movement. You don’t want to miss anything.

You both drop your heads back in bliss, chests heaving against each other. You’re adjusting, while Carmy’s trying to get a hold of himself. He doesn’t want it to be over too quickly, but it so easily could be if he isn’t careful. He runs his hands up and down the bare skin of your back, admiring how soft you are.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he says through gritted teeth. “Shit, baby.”

“You feel so good. So big, Carmen. Fuck.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you can’t help but tease, running your thumb over his bottom lip.

“Talk like that. Fuck.”

“Oh,” you laugh in fake realisation. “You like it a little too much, huh?”

He leans his head forward to rest on your chest, gasping when you lift your hips up to drop them back down. It’s all so slick, so easy. It’s like you’re made for each other, made to fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

You can’t help but want to push him a little further. He’s always so quietly domineering, so seemingly in control, that you love when he allows himself to fray at the edges slightly. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t get you off.

“So you don’t want me to tell you how you’re filling me up just right? That you’re so big, that you feel so fucking good? That I could sit here for hours? That I’ve never had it like this with anyone?”

Carmy’s hips buck up involuntarily, and you chuckle a little cruelly.

“Baby, please.”

“Okay, Carmen. Okay.”

You press a sugary sweet kiss to his lips before settling your hands on his broad shoulders to give yourself some stability. You set a steady rhythm, winding your hips up and gliding them back down with a clear purpose. Your knees ache, and your hips are being held open a little too wide, but you feel delirious with it, high off the pleasure. It’s good. So good.

“Shit, honey. Fuck. S’good, yeah? So good. Keep going, don’t stop.”

You’ve always found his babbling amusing, but right now there’s nothing funny about the way the sound of his voice pushes you undeniably closer and closer to the edge. You never want him to stop talking.

Carmy moves one hand from your hip to between your legs, rubbing soft but intentional circles onto your clit. It sets your nerves alight, whole body buzzing with anticipation.

You keep your rhythm going, even as it’s getting harder and harder to concentrate. You can feel that Carmy’s close, that he’s sitting on a knife’s edge waiting for you. You realise, suddenly, that you want him to come before you. You want to undo him.

You move one hand to tangle in his hair, while the other settles at his throat. You don’t squeeze too hard, just enough to turn his moans into breathy little ah ah ahs.

“Baby, please. Fuck, so close. So good, honey. You’re so good.”

Your grip tightens in his curls, making him groan. Your hips get faster, and so do his fingers on your clit, the pressure more insistent now.

“Fuck, yeah, that’s it, don’t stop baby. Fuck, I love this. I love you. Keep going, so close. Atta girl.”

Your brain is too lost in your actions to register his words. Instead, you press your forehead to his, kissing him gently in contrast to the violent slam of your hips. This juxtaposition seems to be Carmy’s undoing, his grip on your hip tightening so much you hope it’ll bruise.

He emits the most gorgeous moan you’ve ever heard when he comes, which sends you straight over the edge. You tighten like a vice, whole body shuddering with it. Your climax seems to last forever, every single one of your nerves fried and frayed.

You both come down slowly, foreheads pressed together and lungs heaving. You’re panting into his mouth, smoothing out his hair where your fingers have ruffled it. Carmy’s arms wrap around your back, pulling you in so you’re chest to chest as he presses a kiss to your temple. You sit like this for a while, completely at peace in each other’s company.

Eventually, after what could have been hours but was probably minutes, you break the silence.

“So we should probably talk about the I love you, huh?”

@jazminsjaz @buendiabebeta @kingsqueensandvagabonds

[artofchoisan]

A BODYGUARD'S PUNISHMENT

Cold!Bodyguard!Seonghwa x Heartbroken!Brat!University!Reader

The Plot: Being heartbroken was a norm for your life especially with your own parents not caring about you and just giving you money to keep you quiet. No matter how much chaos you caused or the one time you almost got yourself killed to which they didn't want their status to be ruined they just assigned you a bodyguard with whom you’ve had a past that only you and him knew of.

TW: Rough Sex.

Words: 2.3k

► ATEEZ MASTERLIST

Causing chaos all around you, drinking until only alcohol flew into your veins, wrecking havoc by organizing parties and sleeping around and not to forget stealing cars and smoking weed, you’ve done everything, yet none seem to care.

Your own parent couldn't give one single fuck about you, never a caring words nor a caring touch, they only threw money at you and wave their hands off and just assigning you a bodyguard so as you don't get yourself killed which they only did mainly for their own name to not get soiled.

Yet, you gave your own bodyguard so many shit to deal with, the countless time you’ve been a brat to him by running off away from him, getting on his nerves and always getting wine onto his suit as you grinned, you didn't hate Park Seonghwa, he was just doing his job but anything associated with your parents you hated, and this man was just another toy in their hands.

So there you were, into another one of your escape, lying into a bathroom floor with a bottle of vodka into your hands as you stared up, what the fuck was your own life? You couldn't even escape this life and just hope that once uni was done you could get out of this fucked up home and lead a life of your own.

“Here you are.” An exasperated sigh reached your ears, as you only look up to find your bodyguard rushing to your side and forcing you up, “Could you stop running out of my sight at least once.”

“No! Fuck off!” Forcingly removing your hand off his hold as you almost tumble down before he catches you again, “Give me a break will you.”

“It’s an order, we’re going.” His voice is tight and cold, not wanting to put up with any of your bullshit, you’ve been getting on his nerves for nearly a year, it’s a miracle he held up for so long, “It’s my job.”

As you struggled against Seonghwa you knew it was of no use, as he was two heads taller than you and much stronger, “I’m not going anywhere.” With that he still managed to drag you outside the bathroom, out of the club and managed to open the door of the car and threw you inside, “Behave now.” Voice lathered in a warning as he glared at you before getting into the driver’s seat and putting on the child’s lock, just to be sure.

“What were you even thinking?” Starting the engine as he drive towards your apartment, your only answer to him was a roll of your eyes, "This disappearing act is getting really damn old," Seonghwa lead on, sharp and deliberate, digging the hurt in your chest deeper, "You need to learn how to grow up before—"

“Shut the fuck up Seonghwa.” Your own voice is colder than ever before.

Then a sob broke through your own voice, your hands over your face as the tears threatened to fall and just like that more anger swirl inside of you, “I know, I’m a fucking mess and fucked up all I do.” Saying more through gritted teeth, “I’m an embarrassment to my own parents and just someone who can't do anything right, just a little pompous bitch who uses her parents money without thinking. I know what everyone thinks and knows what you also think.”

Letting your head lean against the car window, “Just drive me home Park.”

This rendered Seonghw quiet, his eyes glancing at your tired face from time to time, jaw unclenched as for a few seconds he almost felt pity for you, he wasn't blind to the actions or lack of actions of your parents to you.

Once his car reached your apartment’s parking lot, he unlocked your doors and with that you made a dash for the elevators, not wanting to see more of him. Luckily as he locked the car, you managed to catch the elevator and in mere seconds you were gone, leaning against the elevators, you let out a sigh.

Once it reached your floor, you lazily walked towards your door, quickly inserting your keycode and before you could get inside your arms were gripped in an almost deadly one and was thrown inside as you groan, the door slammed shut behind him, “Can you stop acting like a fucking kid? Whining and crying like one.”

Too tired, you only turned your back to him, what have gotten into Seonghwa? Had he finally snapped. And if he did, despite your own tiredness you wanted to test just how riled up you can rile him up.

“I’ll continue to act like a kid as you say.” Saying those words out of your own tongue, as you turned to him, a few meters away as you unzipped your dress right in front of him and despite the few seconds of shock from Seonghwa’s eyes, he said nothing trying to not wanting to let you win.

Your dress dropped down to the floor revealing your black lingerie that hugged your breast well right in front of him, a generous portion of skin all in full view in front of him as you turned before bending down to get your dress.

That’s when you felt it, a deep growl and a strong pair of arms around your waist, “You’re a fucking brat.” A venomous tone into your ear, “You keep getting on my nerves, playing with me.” His hand around your neck, tilting your head up as you felt his breath onto your skin.

“But you didn't leave, you like it just as much but you would never admit that, right Mr Park?” Almost laughing at your own words, “Always handling me and touching me.”

You’ve crossed way too much line in just a few days.

Seonghwa seemed to be releasing all of his pent up anger onto you, feeling his tongue, teeth and lips against your neck, biting and sucking leaving your naked canvas of your neck in a painting of red and purple marks, his tongue licking long stride along your neck, “You need to be taught a lesson brat.”

His fingers traced along your body, his other hand still around your neck as his lips and teeth never leaving the bruising canvas he was creating on your skin, “Going out to get fucked? Huh? Come on princess, you know the dangers of that.” He then pulled hard onto your panties, tearing it up before it slapped against your skin.

The cold air hitting your cunt as you gasped out, “Please Hwa, I want you.” Your hands working behind you as you quickly took off his belt and palm onto his crotch, “Please, please. I’ll be good to you.” This wasn't an unfamiliar situation, fucking with your bodyguard wasn't a new thing.

Seonghwa turned you around, gripping on your shoulders he pushed you on your bed, “Just look at you princess.” His grin turned sinister, “Thinking another man can even fuck you as good as I can. Do you beg for their cock as you do for mine? Do you whine and plead, begging for it as if your life depends on it?”

His anger did all the talking as he looked livid, finally letting his emotions take a hold of him after months of restraining himself, wanting to do his job, only wanting to protect you and burying his own feelings down but jealousy always rear its horns.

“Please Seonghwa, I want you.” Nor you, not being able to deny yourself of him, your feeling blossomed into something more for him, for once, one person truly and sincerely cared, yet his own principles always comes in the way, “Fuck me, I want you to wreck me.”

With that he delved his fingers into you, forcing a gasp, grabbing his arms, digging your nails in as he wrapped one arm around your waist and the other brushed against your clit. "You're soaked, Princess. Only I can make you feel like this, right?" He asked growling slightly as he bit at your ear "Something turning you on?" He asked and you whimpered in response, whining out.

"Hwa, fuck... slow down" You begged as he thrust his fingers in and out, his palm brushing against your clit, his bracelets rubbing against your lower stomach, forcing whines and whimpers from your lips.

"When you mean it, I'll slow down" He grunted out, pressing kisses along the side of your face as you gasped looking down watching his fingers plunge in and out of you, his cock pressing hard against your ass. "Do you want to cum on my fingers, Princess?" He asked softly and you gasped arching your back slightly as he pressed on your lower stomach as his fingers reached deeper inside of you.

"Seonghwa" You cried out, pushing against his arms as your release slammed through you, spasming around his fingers and soft whines leaving your lips as he continued to kiss along your jaw and down your neck. He smirked against your neck and pulled his fingers out.

Without warning he turned you around and forced his cock deep inside you as you cried out in pleasure, “Oh fuck! Yes! More.” His animalistic thrust meets you with so much pleasure, his cock thrusting in and out of you as his mouth comes closer to bite onto your shoulder as his deep grunt drives you even more insane.

Seonghwa was fucking you with no mercy, “Look at you being so desperate for my cock and now taking me in so well, so good, such a good little brat for me.” Chanting his name like a mantra as feeling him so good and so big inside of you and being fucked so dumb made you to lose it as you press yourself more against him chasing your own high, “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“I could just leave you here,” Seonghwa warned yet his hips continue to fuck you even harder than before, his hold on your hips tighter than before, “I could just cum all over your back and leave you just like that, still all wet and horny, but we wouldn't want that, right princess.”

You were so fucked out, the tears in your eyes began dripping down your cheeks, “No please, Hwa. I need you, please don't leave me.”

Seonghwa’s demonic grin crossed his lips, “That’s my good girl, see you can be obedient when you want to.” Still thrusting into you, with no rest “I'm the only one who can make you feel this way. i’m the only person who can fuck you like this. you’re mine. say it, brat.”

“I’m all yours Seonghwa, only yours.”

With that you felt the knot onto your stomach tightened before the both of you came to your orgasm as you cried out in bliss, “Fuck.” Your body landed bonelessly onto the bed as you both were panting out, Seonghwa had removed himself from you as strings of white cum landed onto your back, “That’s my good girl.”

Once both of you had calmed down, Seonghwa helped you to lay more on the bed, his caring nature was what caused you to fall harder then he adjusted your hair and with a tender smile, Seonghwa leaned in and kissed your forehead.

“Love you..” mumbling out those words out of all the emotions into you.

The sweet atmosphere turned cold, Seonghwa froze and you immediately regret it. With a cold expression, he leaned back and stood up, adjusting himself in a robotic manner and his cold expression lying back into him.

“You can't keep doing that Seonghwa, you told it to me yourself before, you can't keep coming back fucking me out of jealousy, touching me and caring for me like that and then acting like that when I say the words you’re too scared to say.”

The secret had been out of the box, a few months ago when alcohol got the best of your system as you drowned into sin, you got quite intimate with your bodyguard who despite your wandering hands all over his body and your pleading eyes and whines, you’ve shared a night you’d never forget.

As the next morning had reached you, your secret was already out of bed and dressed sitting in the living room with eyes darting forward, thinking of a mistake he’d made but as the days went by, the man broke the first rule of being a bodyguard and it almost cost you your life one day, as he got distracted and it almost cost you your life.

After that encounter with death, you’ve found some warmth into the arms of your bodyguard whom this time had the both of you sober and this time he allowed temptation to take hold of his soul, gripping onto the chains of his own restraint, he ripped it out and took your mouth in his as you allowed sin and lust to consumed the both of you in a horrid night of sex.

“You know I can't, my job is to protect you. I can't fail, I can't let you get almost killed.”

Every time, after he allowed temptation to get the best of him, he would grow cold and distant and would only worry about your safety while his icy demeanor brought you some hurt that only caused for you to cry as you’d allow the pain to make you cry as you’ve had confessed to him to which he could only shake his head not wanting to break any more of his own rules.

“Seonghwa.” You sigh, face pinched into a hurt expression, “Listen to me, I love you, I’m not scared to admit that, you’re not careless, you protect me so please, let’s give this a chance, until I finish university, please.”

For a while, he was quiet and then he walked to you and dragged you into his arms, “I’ll trust you. I’ll protect you. For once I’ll be selfish, I won’t let you go so please bear with me for a while.” Then a smile appeared on his lips, “I love you too my little brat, I don't think I can live without you.”

“Neither can I, Mr Bodyguard.”

[azsazz]

Shots & Spins

Hockey!Azriel x Ice Skater!Reader

Summary: Req from @kristijenner19: I saw you were thinking about hockey!AZ because same. How about a fic where she's a figure skater and they're trying to teach each other their respective sports. Imagine poor Az trying to do a spin/jump/twizzle and a reader who can barely ever make a shot into a goal

Bonus points if they switch their skates and have to re-learn how to skate with the new blade

Warnings: Mild panic attack, mentions of readers injury (torn ACL), trauma from coaches (verbal) mentioned.

Word Count: 3088

Other Fics in the Hockey!Az AU: Penance, Shut Out, Out of Order, All's Well That Ends Well, Brr-eakdown

HOCKEY SZN SOON MY LOVES 💙💙

Notes: I swear I meant to make this cuter but of course, I had to give it some angst 😅

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“What is this?” You question. You’re probably being rude, with your nose scrunched in disgust. With the way you’re holding the pair of skates as far away from your body as possible, you’re pretty sure you look like the biggest bitch on all of campus. But for the life of you, you can’t figure out why Azriel has handed you hockey skates.

“They’re skates,” Azriel answers. You rip your glare from the offending skates at his obvious response. Your heart stumbles in your chest at the sight of his pink lips twitching, begging to reveal that grin he spends most of his time expertly hiding.

You don’t even realize you’re leaning closer in anticipation, so eager to see that smile until the hitch of his breath snaps you back to consciousness.

You rock back on your heels so quickly you nearly tumble over. Would tumble over if it weren’t for Azriel’s quick reflexes, his large hands enveloping your waist and steadying you back on your feet.

“Thanks,” you reply flatly, dipping your chin to the ground to hide your flaming cheeks. There’s not an ounce of amusement in your body.

“You’re welcome.” You don’t like the smugness in his tone or the way he’s playing with you. Tilting your face back up, you muster all the annoyance lancing through your veins at his retort, shooting him the nastiest glare.

“That’s not what I meant, Az, and you know it. Why am I holding a pair of hockey skates?”

Azriel sits on the bench beside the empty arena, and you want to pout. Why would you want to spend any more time at the rink than you already do? You’re bone-fucking-tired and your knee is feeling stiff. You overdid it in practice this week, trying to get back into the shape you were in before the time you’d been forced to take off, and it’s hitting you hard. All you really want to do is crawl home, roll out your muscles, and dive into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

When you don’t join Azriel, he says, with a humor you don’t feel, “Don’t tell me you forgot about our little bet. Or how you so gracefully lost it.”

Of course you hadn’t forgotten. Who could forget losing at something as simple as a race across the arena? Afterwards, you tried to blame it on the differences in the ice, how it was colder and harder than you were used to, as it was prepared for the hockey team’s game later that weekend.

A rookie mistake, honestly. One that you’ve been kicking yourself over up until this very moment. Well, if you could kick with your injured leg, that is, you’d be doing just that.

You grind your teeth as a memory rises to the forefront of your mind. Your coach’s voice rings in your head, shrill and reprimanding. Why would you take such foolish chances? You need to get your head in your sport or you’re never going to make it on the Olympic team, let alone the University team.

Shame presses down on you, and your eyes prick at the criticism you should be used to by now. Your private coach from your time before Velaris University, Amarantha, had been very creative with her insults, always coming up with comments worse and harsher to cut down any semblance of confidence you had in your sport.

You bet she’s thrilled that you won’t be back in her presence until you’re healed enough. If you heal enough to relearn the very trick that took you out of the running for the Olympic team in the first place.

It must be a thing, coaches insulting their prodigies. You glance at Azriel from the corner of your eye and wonder if his coach is the same way. If Rhys is brutal with his teammates.

And you hate losing. It was Azriel who you wished forgotten about the bet you’d so stupidly agreed to, but here he is, wearing the same look that got you into this position in the first place.

You take your time studying him as you mull over how to get out of this. Azriel’s broad shoulders take up the space of two people, and his deep, dark hair falls over his brow, growing out into the perfect flow all the players seem to be sporting right now. You wonder if it’s superstition or they actually like the look. His thick lashes sweep as he bats them, and your cheeks take on a pink hue as he pretends to preen under your attention.

“Look,” he all but sighs, giving up his act. He leans back, reaching over to grab something out of sight. When Azriel rightens himself, he holds a pair of figure skates, a sheepish smile on his face. The apples of his cheeks mottle with pink. “I got myself figure skates, so we can both look like fools out there. Together.”

Fuck. The sentiment makes your throat tighten. He doesn’t have to be so damn thoughtful, you’re hardly even friends for Mother’s sake.

“Fine,” you manage when you can speak again. You plop onto the bench beside him. Your knee throbs dully in protest, but it’s nothing you haven’t been able to smother before. You’ve worked through worse conditions than hockey prepped ice, have skated in casts and aches so deep you weren’t sure you’d be able to compete at all if it weren’t for your raw love for the sport and your brutal stubbornness, holding yourself to the highest of standards.

And it’s not like you’re going to be doing your usual tricks. No, that’s all Azriel. All you have to manage is a few forward spirals, twizzles, and perhaps an axel just to show off a little, because there’s no way he’ll be able to recreate all of that in one go.

You just hope your knee stays steady for a few more hours.

The both of you lace your shoes in silence. The hockey skates are so different from your figure skates, you note. The blade is much thicker than you’re used to, more curved too. The boots are shorter, and you grimace at the lack of ankle support.

Not to mention you’re not entirely sure how well you’ll be able to stop without your toe pick.

Azriel leads you to the ice. You step on tentatively, giving the new skates a test. They have a lot more give than you’re used to. They’re not as snug, but easy enough to navigate. Muscle memory kicks in and after a few sluggish runs up and down the ice, you think you’ve gotten the hang of it.

The rest of this bet should be a breeze, especially compared to how Azriel is faring.

His face is contorted with a concentrated frown. He looks stiff as a fucking board, which make you giggle and him complain about. “How the hell do you wear these things? I can barely even move my ankles!”

“Practice makes perfect, young Padawon,” you tease, testing how best to shift your weight on the new blades. The pressure on your knee isn’t terrible, thanks to the looseness of the hockey skates.

“Yeah, yeah,” Azriel waves you off. He trails behind you at a slower rate, focused on getting used to the stiffness of the figure skates on his feet. “Just wait until we scrimmage.”

Ugh, no thanks. This is just perfect for you, the both of you out on the open ice, all alone. You don’t want to ruin this peaceful bliss by bringing your competitive personalities into it.

“I knew if we raced under different conditions I’d have won!” You exclaim, zipping past Azriel again, showing off. He glares playfully, but you’re much too busy admiring your skates to notice the way he’s tucked his lip between his teeth, hiding a satisfied grin.

His toe pick digs into the ice, grinding down as he gets a feeling for the foreign piece, but his eyes stay glued on you.

“Ready for a stick and gloves already, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know,” you throw a smirk back in his direction, crossing your arms over your chest and cocking a brow. “You ready for twizzling?”

“Twizzlers?”

You roll your eyes at his lame joke, but your heart still skips at his wry smile. It’s more than cute. You push off your blade, moving closer to him.

Which is fine, until you try to use your toe pick to stop, only for the realization to hit that there isn’t one on these skates.

You go barreling into Azriel, who catches you in his arms. Your motion throws him off balance and before you even have the chance to squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourself, you’re both falling to the ice.

Azriel hits with a grunt that reverberates through your bones. You’d think that Azriel breaking your landing would be less painful than it is, but with the way the muscle is packed on his body, he’s just as hard as the ice that’s no longer beneath your feet.

“Sorry,” you cringe. It comes out breathless and embarrassment flushes your cheeks, but you’re frozen to your spot and all too aware of how his large, warm hands are wrapped firmly around your waist.

“No worries.” Your lashes flutter as his breathy whisper caresses your face. He’s probably just winded, that’s why he sounds like that. Yes, that’s exactly what it is. “Didn’t think to remind you how to stop.”

“I know how to stop,” you argue, but there’s none of your usual fire tainting the words. You can’t even muster one of your famous glares that you reserve for the normally broody hockey player. You break eye contact as the humiliation begins creeping in. You scratch your nail distractedly down the waffled fabric of his olive colored henley. “I just…forgot, I guess.”

The hitching of his breath in his chest shifts your body and you jolt, the situation slamming into you like a truck.

You scramble off Azriel, grimacing at the sound of your blades clinking against his. His grip loosens, hands falling away as you slip to the ice beside him.

You shoot to your knees, then not-so-carefully climb to your feet. Azriel holds his hands out from where he’s still lying on the ground, like he’s more than ready to catch you again should you fall.

You’re positive the heat of your cheeks could melt the entire arena’s ice right now. You need to get the fuck out of here before you embarrass yourself further. You need to never show your face around here again. You’ve already transferred schools once, what’s one more time?

Azriel calls your name, but you hardly hear him over your racing thoughts. If the sheer embarrassment wasn’t enough, Coach Weaver’s voice now fills the rest of your head, screeching about your recklessness and how you could’ve injured yourself—

He’s quicker than you thought, or you’ve been trapped in your mortified headspace for too long because Azriel’s on his feet, towering over you and pulling you into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” your voice trembles and his hands tighten around you. He lets you bury your face into his chest and pretends not to notice the tears dampening the fabric of his shirt. You’re fucking trembling, and his heart is pounding just as hard.

This is all his fault.

“Breathe, sweetheart, breathe,” he tries to console. He looks around frantically, like one of the sports therapist students or coaches might be walking past the rinks this late at night. There’s no soul in the building besides the both of you, everyone resting for their busy weekends of competitions and away hockey games. “Please.”

You focus on his words, how he guides you, three seconds in, three seconds out. You focus on the soothing patterns he’s drawing down your back, focus on the beating of his heart and latch onto his scent: night-chilled mist and cedar.

“Sorry,” you croak when you finally manage to calm yourself and slide a step back. Your gaze sits pointedly on the ice. You don’t want him to see you like this, a woman who’s about to fucking crumble.

“Don’t be,” Azriel says softly. His hand finds your face, and as much as you don’t want him to, he lifts your chin. You don’t fight it, emotionally exhausted. You should have asked for a raincheck, but you can admit to the fact that Azriel’s gentle touch is a comfort that you can’t help but lean into.

Sad, hazel eyes meet yours. They’re more golden brown than green, a forest of hues backlit by a burst of gold. Your breath hitches as he drags a thumb softly across your lips. They part, even though you don’t mean them to, and the whisper of breath that leaves you passes over his hand, crawls up his arm, and sends shivers down his spine.

“You okay there, sweetheart?”

You’re not sure you can hold yourself together enough to answer his question without completely melting into a puddle at his feet.

Your silence must be answer enough. Azriel takes both of your hands in his own and guides you back toward the bench where you left your shoes. His grip is reassuring, and you’re so tired that you don’t even have it in yourself to sling a witty remark his way.

For what might be the first time in your life, you allow yourself to be taken care of.

You can’t even muster a chuckle at the way he stumbles over the toe pick on his way off the ice, or the way you’re waddling in these skates. You feel anything but graceful and strong right now, but with Azriel’s hand in yours, it’s not as off-putting as you feared it might be.

“Sit,” he says, keeping his fingers clasped around yours as you heed his command. It brings you eye-level to his hands, puckered and pink and scarred to hell. They’re beautiful in every way. He embraces his story, and it’s an incredible strength, one you’re much too terrified of attempting to recreate.

“Azriel, no,” you protest, jolting forward when he lowers himself to his knees before you. You plant your hands on his shoulders, ready to force him away because you’re more than capable of taking your own skates off.

He catches your wrists, and you didn’t think his eyes could soften any more, but they do, and you melt. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Let me take care of this for you.”

You try to swallow past the knot in your throat to thank him but are unable to. Instead, you nod and reluctantly sit back.

Azriel’s gentle with his movements, like you’re a wild doe that he’s helping free from a snare. He unties the tight knots, and your heart pinches when he struggles for a moment. You wouldn’t notice if you weren’t watching so intently, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Like he knows you need to see this.

You carefully keep your mind from wandering into how good he looks like this before you.

He slips the first skate off, and you stretch your toes. It’s a reflex. Azriel smiles, peeking up at you just in time to catch your blush. His gaze ducks away before you become embarrassed, setting your foot down and holding your other ankle, lifting to get to work.

You hiss softly at the ache in your knee.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Concern laces his voice, and you’re quick to reassure him.

“No, no,” you cringe a little at the lingering sting. “It’s nothing.”

“Sweetheart.” Azriel says sternly. Seriously. “That reaction wasn’t nothing. What’s wrong?”

You sigh, defeated in more ways than one. You don’t want to admit that the injury that threw your entire career off-kilter is acting up again. You’d rather not have anyone know.

Perhaps Azriel is different. Or, maybe he’s forcing you, because the gold in his eyes is intense, pinning you to your spot. His mouth is set in a straight, firm line. He looks like he means fucking business.

You avert your gaze. You’ve never admitted defeat like this, but if Azriel can wear his scars so proudly, maybe you can too.

“I tore my ACL a few months ago.” You admit, sniffling. You can feel the shock in Azriel’s gaze, but you refuse to look him in the eye. He’s the first person at this school outside of your coach who’s hearing it. You’ve never been so vulnerable, especially with someone you hardly know. You press on nonetheless. “It’s been fine up until now.” A white lie. “But it’s been a little sore since I started practicing my jumps again.”

“How many months is ‘a few’?” He questions, and he’s not going to like the answer, so you opt for brushing over it.

“I’ll go back to seeing my therapist,” you offer instead, but even you’re not too sure how much truth your words hold.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Azriel says, and you don’t want his sympathy, but you’re too exhausted for your usual anger to stir to life. “You need to take care of yourself, before it gets any worse.”

His sentiment has your nose stinging, eyes prickling once again. What the fuck is wrong with you these days? Get it together, girl. You can cry in your own room, not in front of the hot boy who’s helping you with your godsdamned shoes.

You drag your gaze back to his. “I will.” You think.

He studies you for a moment before nodding, accepting your answer whether he believes it or not. You don’t have it in yourself to care right now. No, you just want to be back in the safety of your dorm.

Azriel is even more careful removing this skate and helping you slip into your shoes. He makes quick work of his own, and while his head is down, you admire his stature. Broad shoulders and chest that tapers into a tight waist, an ass for days.

You’re not done drooling over him when he stands, offering you a hand.

You slip your palm into his, ignoring the electricity that zips down your arm. You’re hyperaware of him by your side, and it’s only when he’s absolutely sure that you’re steady on your feet that he drops your hand.

You try not to feel too disappointed at the loss.

“Let’s get you home, sweetheart,” Azriel offers, and you trail him from the arena, your heart feeling a bit fuller with the nickname.

_________________________________________

Azriel Hockey!AU Tags:

@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @lilah-asteria @girl-who-writes-stuff @moosemahboi @sherayuki @lyinginameadow @acourtofatboydreams @blackthorngirl @shadowsingercassia @evergreenlark @hannzoaks @bloodicka @whyshouldihaveanam3 @elle4404 @cherry-cin @quinzzelx @i-am-infinite @feeriqueivre @blightyblinders @kennedy-brooke @nyxbranwenn @dee-writes-smut @konaanaria13

[tashid4]

Ghostface Sero PART 2 ‼️‼️

part 1

It's been a week since the Halloween party. Since this masked stranger left you miserably alone in this room. You had to leave the party without underwear and without your dignity. How dare he?

Going back to school and act as if nothing happened that night. But it was hard, knowing that one of the student in the school fucked you like it was your last day on earth. You still had no idea who it could have been. This situation weighed on you too much, you had to talk about this to someone.

After a long day of training you joined your bestfriend in his dorm. Sero was the closest person to you, he knows you like no one does. The only person you could share this with, was him. You sat next to him on his bed, just like you did after every heart break or every gossip session.

You explained him the whole situation, but not once did he seem surprised. He swallowed your words as if they were nothing. As if he already knew...

"Hey are you even listening?" He had not uttered a word since the beginning of your explanations. That is why you were wondering if he wasn't just ignoring you. But after you asked the question, he looked up and stared at you intensely. His eyes were colder than usual, deeper and more insistent. You barely recognized him.

He smiled at you with malice and a bit of lust maybe ? 

"Did you like it ?" It took you by surprise, you were definitely not expecting this question. He got closer and closer to you, crawling up to you on the bed. He was know between your tights his face only inches to yours. "Did you liked behing fucked like a little slut ?" You still didn't answer, you were too shocked by what was currently happening. What has gotten into you ?

"Did you learn your lesson bitch ?" When he uttered these words, everything became clear. You connected the dots while remembering what the stranger told you that night I guess I'll have to teach you a good lesson

"It was you..." his face burried in your neck, kissing and bitting it. He was probably going to leave marks but you couldn't care less. It was him. Your bestfriend. He was the one fucking you from behind in this dark room. Your pussy dripped when you remembered how good you felt that night, how good he was pounding into you. You moan when he bites your neck at the right place. Your hands find their way under his shirt rubbing his back. The feeling of his mouth on you was incredibly delicious, he was driving you crazy right now.

"Relax baby I'll take such good care of you. I'm gonna fuck you just how you like it." He quickly took your shirt off, leaving you in only a bra and a skirt. The same skirt you were wearing everyday. The same he dreamed of plucking out everyday. He wasted no time to lift it up, just enough to uncover your pretty lacy pink panties. "So cute and wet for me" He gently pushed it to the side, swiping a finger from your entrance to your clit. He was so soft and gentle, nothing to do with Halloween. He slowly rubbed circles on your clit before licking a long stripe along your pussy. He was obviously teasing you, he was being slow on purpose. He saw you the other night, he knew you like it rough. Your legs were shaking, too impatient

"So needy baby. Don't worry I'll let you cum this time" He kept giving your pussy soft kisses before finally eating you out like a starved man. "You want me to keep going? Yeah I bet you do." You were a moaning mess, you were seeing stars. His fingers and his tongue were working in sync to make you feel good. His chin was soaked with your juices but he didn't mind. He waited so long for this moment. After every one of your breakups he was dreaming of comforting you by making you cry his name. Making you forget about that shitty ex boyfriend of yours.

"So wet for me, huh..?" You were so close now, impossible to stay in place. You lifted your body to get more, you needed more. When you finally reached your high he held your hand and squeezed it gently. "Cum f'me baby...let me hear those pretty moans" "S'too much" You pussy was clenching around his fingers which made him smile widely.

He finally got up and took off his shirt and pants in no time. "I've been nice to you but from now on you're going to take my dick and shut up like the good little bitch you are" He was back to his mean personnality. The same he had while wearing the mask. He gave his dick a few strokes but he definitely was already hard. "On all fours. Now"

You obeyed too excited to protest. You wanted his dick inside of you. You wanted to rediscover the delicious feeling of him rearranging your guts.

He had no mercy for you. He pulled your hair and smacked your ass. Mascara was flowed down your cheeks. Skin red and sweaty. "Look at you, you're taking it so well. My sweet little baby, only me can make you feel like this" "Ugh yes" "Say it baby" It was hard for you to form a sentence. "Only you can make me feel like this" "Yeah, good girl"

He eated you out so softly earlier, now he was treating you like a slut and you loved it. You loved the way he slapped your ass and pussy. "Seroo,...gonna cumm" "Me too baby". He accelerated his movements and hit harder. You were struggling to stay on your hands and knees. Your orgasm struck you uncontrollably, moaning so loud the whole school probably heard you. Sero, came inside of you, painting your walls with his cum.

It was too much for you, you flopped down on his bed full of his sperm. It was the most beautiful thing he was given to see.

Now, he needed to kiss you, hug you, hold you tight. He needed to show you he could be here for you. He needed to be your boyfriend now. He couldn't bear to be just friends anymore...

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (34/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The boat that's actually a yacht - and it's just the two of you.

Warnings: fluff, minimal angst, Google translated French, no knowledge of boats

Word Count: 3.9k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: we're back bitches!!! love you. feedback is appreciated!

"What do we need?" you ask, taking a sip of your coffee. "Apart from Kika's spontaneous photos, I've only taken pictures of inanimate objects so far. And the one of you."

Charles shrugs his shoulders. "When Joris and I take photos together, we'll pack a bag of different clothes." When you raise an eyebrow in confusion, Charles purses his lips. "We always take several photos, for several posts. If we don't have time to take new pictures, we always have some in stock that we can use without them looking like old pictures."

"Okay." You put your mug down on the work surface in front of you. "Anything else?"

Your roommate grins. "Your camera."

"Haha." You toss it off with a kitchen towel. "I mean, do you need anything else in the way of props or anything?"

He shakes his head. "Actually, no. Everything you could possibly need for a photo shoot is already on the boat." He nods towards the hallway. "You just need long clothes in case it gets colder later."

You nod. "All right. Then you pack a bag with the things you need and I'll pack one with clothes I can wear if it gets cold later." You walk around the kitchen island towards the hallway. 

"And don't forget your camera." You can even hear the smirk, which is why you give him the middle finger without turning around. 

As you stand in your room, you don't really know what to pack. 

Although it's supposed to be twenty degrees outside - which sounds totally surreal for a day before Christmas - your weather app tells you that it's going to be almost three degrees at night. 

"How long are we staying on the boat?" you shout loudly so that Charles can hear you. You throw a large bag on the bed. 

"No idea," says Charles calmly. When you turn around, he's standing in the doorway. "You and I can leave after the pictures. Or stay there all day. Or the night." He shrugs his shoulders. "There's no time when the boat has to be back in port."

You sigh. "I'm afraid that doesn't help me much." You point to the bag on the bed. "I can't pack my entire closet, Charles. Tell me what to pack." You look at him pleadingly. 

"All right." He enters your bedroom and looks around before reaching for some clothes lying on the floor. "Here, the sweatpants are good. If you want to lie out on the sun bed in the evening, you'll need these." He tosses them to you. You catch them and fold them up to stow them neatly in your bag. "Do you have comfy socks or something?" 

"Ehm, yeah," you say, pulling some out of the pile of clothes Kika left there and tucking them into the side pocket of the bag.

Charles kneels down on the floor and sifts through the pile at your feet. "You'll definitely need a thick sweater. It's going to be pretty windy when we're out at sea." He rummages around in your clothes until he fishes out a black sweater and holds it out to you. "Tada."

The first thing you notice about the sweater is that it's not yours. The black hoodie is too big to be yours. The second thing you notice about it is that it's the sweater Charles gave you the night you went to your favorite place. 

The night Charles showed you his talent on the piano. The night you almost kissed. It feels like it was a lifetime ago. 

You can't tell Charles that you don't want to wear the sweater, even though it's incredibly comfortable. It certainly still smells like Charles, although perhaps not as strongly - after all, he hasn't worn it for days. You don't want to be wrapped up in his scent and be at risk of getting weak. The distance that needs to exist between you is the right thing to do. 

Charles looks at you questioningly from the floor and you realize you've already hesitated too long.

"That - that's not my sweater," you simply say. 

Your friend examines the sweater in his hand. "Really?" he asks, confused, smelling the collar. "But it smells like you."

You shake your head. "That's yours. You - uh - you lent it to me when we went to petits mondes," you explain as he folds the fabric and puts it to one side. 

"Oh. Right." He looks at the sweater before his gaze lands on you again. "You can keep it if you want."

You wave it off. "It's all right. Thanks for letting me borrow it. But it's yours after all, so..." You step nervously from one foot to the other. 

Charles watches you for a moment and then turns away. "All right, then. How about this one then?" He pulls another sweater out of the pile of laundry. This time it's actually yours. It's white, with red stripes on it and the collar reaches up to your chin. You definitely won't catch a cold in this. 

"It's good," you reply with a smile and catch it as he throws it to you. You fold it before putting it in your pocket as well. "What about your clothes? Do you want them in the bag too?" you ask him, hoping that he will take his clothes separately and not infect your clothes with his smell. 

Charles gets up from the floor. "I'll pack my own bag. You still have to pack your camera," he smiles, patting non-existent dust off his pants. "About the trip to the port..." he begins, rubbing the back of his neck. 

You grab your camera bag and stow it next to your clothes in your bag. Hopefully the spare battery is charged. "Hmm?"

"I suggest we take your car and I'll drop you off. Then you won't have to walk far to get to the boat," he explains. "I'll park your car in a side street and then join you. Then we won't be seen together."

You look at him, confused. "Can people just get on your boat like that? Aren't you afraid that some crazy fans will suddenly come out of - I don't know - your cabin?"

Charles has to smile. "Someone will be waiting for you there. They'll let you on the boat."

Embarrassed, you curl your lips into a thin line. Of course there's someone at the docks to make sure no one sneaks onto strangers' boats. "Okay."

You stand opposite each other, undecided, until Charles takes the first step. "I'll just pack my bag and then we can go." Smiling, he disappears from your bedroom. 

While Charles stuffs everything he can find into a bag, you gather some snacks in the kitchen to take with you on the boat. Charles has hinted that there would be a cook on site, but you might not be there for too long, so a proper meal wouldn't be worth it. 

As you prepare some sandwiches and put them in a bag, Charles appears behind you. "Are you ready?" he asks, leaning on the kitchen island. 

"Yep," you reply and place a few small bottles of water next to the sandwiches. When you look at Charles, he grins. "What is it?"

"Nothing." His grin almost reaches his ears. "There's water on the boat too, you know."

You roll your eyes. "I've never been on a boat before." 

Charles raises his eyebrows briefly before shrugging his shoulders. "It's not as special as you make it out to be."

You squint your eyes a little. "Only rich people say that."

He tilts his head. "Do you want to go on the boat or not?"

"Like I said," you start the sentence and grab the snacks, "only if I can steer it once."

Charles reaches for the keys to your Renault. "Don't you dare crash it," he warns you as you walk towards the elevator. He presses the button and a short time later the doors open. "That boat was expensive."

"Don't worry," you try to reassure him. "I'll just hold the wheel firmly and steer straight ahead." You wink at him and step into the elevator. 

Charles has to smile and follows you. "I think I'll only let you take the wheel on the open sea. There's much less risk of you ramming other boats."

"You have a lot of faith in me," you say with mock hurt and put your hand on your chest. 

"I do," he says seriously. "I'd trust you with my life."

-

You walk uncertainly around the various walkways. 

Before you got out of the car, Charles said there would be a man standing in front of his boat to help you find it. You would also have to say a password so that you would be granted access to Charles' boat. 

"For security," he explained. "We don't want everyone to get on the boat."

With your two bags on your shoulders, you walk past a few boats that certainly cost more than you'll ever earn. But nowhere is there a man to signal that you are in the right place. 

There are a few people at the harbor, but no one pays you any attention. They are chatting with friends, frolicking on boats and enjoying the warmth of the sun one last time before the year is over and winter finally sets in. You walk past them with your head down. 

Cautiously and indecisively, you walk on and the boats become yachts on which great parties are sure to take place in summer. They are big and nice and you wonder whether you should google one of the types to find out what price range the yachts of the rich and famous are in. 

You are torn from your thoughts by a man. "Madame? Vous cherchez quelque chose?" are you looking for something? 

Somewhat taken by surprise, you stop. You are standing in front of a large, white yacht. With its two floors, it towers above its neighbors by quite a bit. 

"Uhm," you look at the man uncertainly. "Je cherche le bateau d'un ami," you explain. I'm looking for my friends boat. 

The man raises an eyebrow as if he's wondering what you're doing here. Your uncertainty and searching eyes probably made you stand out immediately. You don't fit in here, that's for sure. 

When the man doesn't answer, you try the password Charles told you. "Chicken?" you ask uncertainly, but when the man smiles at you and reaches for your pockets, you exhale with relief. 

You've found the boat. Thank goodness. 

The man helps you onto the yacht and leads you past the sun bed into the interior, which is much bigger than you imagined, and places your bags on a couch. A couch. On a boat. How crazy. 

"Voulez-vous boire quelque chose?" would you like something to drink? He smiles kindly at you. 

"Non, merci," you thank him and look around. On the floor, next to a couch and a small bar, is the steering wheel, which you hope you'll be able to take the plunge on later. To the right, a staircase leads down to the lower floor, where there are not just one, but three bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchen. 

Astonished, you run your fingers over one of the large beds. The fabric is soft and pleasant against your skin and you can almost imagine how comfortable the bed would be if you snuggled up there after a day in the sun. 

"I was worried for a moment that you wouldn't find my boat." 

As you turn around, Charles is standing at the foot of the stairs, watching you. Without further ado, you sit down on the bed behind you. "I was looking for a boat too. Not a castle on the water."

He has to grin. "The boat is still relatively small compared to the ones that dock here in the harbor in summer."

You raise an eyebrow. "Really?"

He takes a step towards you. "Really. I'm the outsider with my little boat. There's nothing under five stories." He bites the inside of his cheek. "How do you like my boat?"

You nod. "Your yacht is really nice." You grin at him and take a look at the bed you're on. "But why do you need so much space at sea?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "I usually spend the summer break here with my family. Not all of the time, of course, but when we go out on it, it's quite a few days. And I'll be damned if I'm going to share a bed with Arthur."

You try to suppress your grin, but unfortunately you don't succeed. "Why? Does he kick while he sleeps?"

"No," says Charles, leaning against the bed at a little distance from you. "But he used to steal the blanket in the past and then I had to freeze all night."

You raise an eyebrow. "Couldn't you have just fought for it?"

"Believe me when I tell you I tried several times," he rubs the back of his neck with his hand. "He practically wraps himself up like a burrito and when that happens, you've lost."

"Then I know who I'd never share a bed with," you joke, but Charles looks a little more serious.

"I hope so." Before the mood can turn negative, he smiles at you. "Are you ready? Shall we go out?"

You look at him excitedly. "Oh yes." You jump off the bed and smooth out the creases you've left in the comforter. "How long will it take us to get outside?"

"Not long at all. I think twenty minutes and that's it," he explains, turning to head up the stairs.

When you reach the top, Charles gets behind the wheel. You look at him, confused. "Are you driving the yacht?"

"Yep."

"All the time?"

"Yep." He grins at you. "Except for the time you're at the wheel, of course."

You want to jump up and down with excitement. "And where's the man who let me on the boat?"

Charles presses a few buttons and the display in front of him comes to life. "Thomas? He's left the boat."

"Are we all alone?" you ask uncertainly and sit down on the couch. "I thought you still had a chef on board?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "You brought some snacks with you. Thomas also packed some food in the fridge in case you and I want to cook something later."

You purse your lips. You would spend the whole day on the water with Charles. Alone. And you would take pictures of him, which he would post on his official Instagram profile. And you would cook in the small kitchen in the basement. The distance you want to maintain between you seems to be shrinking somehow. 

"You're not going out on the boat with me to kill me and get rid of me discreetly, are you?" you ask him jokingly. 

"Believe me. If I wanted to kill you, I could have done it on our first day," he grins and puts his hands on the steering wheel. "Are you ready?" Charles asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. His green eyes sparkle in the sunlight and small dimples form in his cheeks as he looks at you. 

Gorgeous. 

You smile back. "I'm ready, captain."

He winks at you. "Let's go then."

Concentrating, Charles steers his yacht out of the harbor between the other boats. The rocking is surprisingly pleasant and not as bad as you expected, so you lie down on the couch and wait until you arrive at your destination. Charles remains silent for a while, so you don't say anything either, worried about disturbing his concentration, but while he steers the boat, you start working on your camera settings and think about which one would be best for your shoot. 

After twenty minutes, the yacht comes to a halt and Charles turns to you. "Alright."

Excitedly, you get up from the couch and follow him outside to the sun bed you had your eye on when you boarded. As you look around, you are amazed. You can still see the land in the distance, but you are so far out that it almost merges with the horizon. Although there is a sea breeze blowing around you, the sun is so bright that you don't freeze. It's reflected on the clear water and you want to put on a bikini and jump in. 

Charles seems to notice your gaze. "Next summer, I'll take you with me and then you can swim and sunbathe here until you get sunburnt."

You smile at him. "I'll gladly take you up on that offer." You glance back inside. "Do you need to get changed or are we going to start straight away?"

Charles snaps his fingers once before pulling his shirt over his head and disappearing towards the interior. You try not to stare after him and you ignore how wide his back is and how his muscles move under his skin as he puts his shirt down on the couch. He opens his bag and pulls out a white shirt. When he turns back to you, you turn away quickly, hoping he hasn't noticed you watching him. 

"Ready when you are."

Charles changes clothes more often than you can imagine. He has different outfits ready for every pose and every location on his yacht, which he slips into in order to take the best possible picture. In between, you take a sandwich break on the sun bed and enjoy the warm sun on your skin before getting back to work. 

It doesnt take long for you to figure that Charles is the perfect man for the job. He's so easy to work with, even though he jokes most of the time and you surely have more photos of him looking funny than serious. But you enjoy it the way it is. Happy, free, without a care in the world.

When you have finished and Charles is happy with the photos you took, he suggests going home in the evening. You nod and sit down on the couch. 

When he looks at you expectantly, you raise an eyebrow in confusion. "What is it?"

"I thought you wanted to steer the boat." In his hand, he holds a bandana that he ties around his head to control his hair, which is messy from the constant changing of clothes.

You widen your eyes. "I thought you were messing with me."

He furrows his eyebrows. "Why would I do that? There's nothing and no one here that you can put at risk. And you won't be steering for long." He leans against the seat in front of the wheel. "If you want, the seat is yours."

Excited, you get up from the couch and get behind the wheel. Charles explains everything to you and you try to concentrate on his words as best you can, but he is so close to you that his scent of perfume, a little sweat and him envelops you. 

With his help, the boat sets off and you jump up and down on the seat with joy. Your hair is blowing around your head and it's so loud that you almost scream. "Oh my God! How fucking awesome is that?" You don't even notice that you've let go of the steering wheel.

"Hands on the wheel, you crazy woman!" laughs Charles, holding the wheel tightly. As you look at him, you see a spark of the Charles you know. The Charles that existed before yesterday. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" you apologize and put your hands back on the wheel. "Oh my God! Can you take a picture of me?" 

Charles takes two steps back and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. "Smile, please."

You grin so wide it almost hurts, but you can't stop. It seems so unbelievable that you are on a yacht and even get to steer it. 

You smile at Charles, tears stinging your eyes. A few days ago, you were almost homeless, all alone and on your own. There aren't enough words in the world to describe how grateful you are for the Monegasque who took you in. Who took you into his heart without hesitation. Who was there for you without batting an eyelid.

Fuck, you love him. And nothing in the world will ever change that.

"Thank you."

He lowers his cell phone. "For what?"

A tear escapes your eye and rolls down your cheek. "For everything." 

Charles takes a step towards you and you would love to take him in your arms and never let him go again. But he stops an arm's length away from you and smiles at you. "I would do anything for you."

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks, so you avert your gaze and look ahead again. Monaco is getting closer, but you would prefer to stay here. On the yacht and on the sea. You don't want to go back to reality yet - not if you can be here with Charles. The way it was before.

"I don't want to go back yet," he voices your thoughts and puts a hand on the wheel. When you look at him, he smiles a little brokenly. "I don't want to go back yet because I'm afraid that things won't be the same between you and me. That I'll lose you. And I don't want that." 

His words hit you so hard that you can't breathe. You would love to take him in your arms and kiss him and reassure him that you belong to him like the sand belongs to the sea, but that's not the way Charles means it. 

But you don't care how Charles means it. You belong to him - no matter which way.

"Then let's not go back," you suggest. "We - we can stay here and we won't go back until tomorrow."

Charles' smile looks forced. "And then?"

"Then we'll go home." You bite the inside of your cheek and purse your lips. "To our home."

Charles exhales in relief, as if the elephant that had been standing on his chest had finally gotten off of him. As if he had been underwater for too long and could now take his first breath. He would love to stay here forever, with you, far away from the reality of all the pressure he is under. 

As you smile at him, the pressure seems to fall off him. As if he has finally reached his destination, wherever that may be. Like he's home. 

Fuck, he'd do anything for you if you just asked him to.

He motions for you to let him into the seat, and as you swap places, he brings the yacht to a halt. As the engine shuts down, he slides off the seat and turns to face you. 

"Have you ever gotten drunk on a boat before?"

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

Old Money, Bratty Honey

pairing: bodyguard!Wonwoo x heiress!reader x bodyguard!Vernon

genre: smut - minors dni.

warnings: car sex (a limo specifically), public sex (the windows are tinted but still), mean dom!wonwoo, switch!vernon, brat!reader, sir kink, edging, hair pulling, blowjobs, facefucking, degradation, masturbation, voyeurism, cum swallowing, reader is rich and spoiled (yk how the rest goes)

requested by @onlymingyus

word count: 1.7k

summary: being born in money gives you the chance to try pretty much everything in the world - that includes fucking your two hot bodyguards in your dad's limousine.

Author's note: hello <3 this fic was requested by beloved mars - the unesco forum pics did a LOT of damage

tagging: @gyuwoncheol @wonwussy bcs they asked to suffer so here we are

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

“Do you remember your speech?”

“Tch, of course I do.” You roll your eyes. “I wrote it myself, remember?”

“I know you did. Just wanted to check whether your brain cells are still active.” Wonwoo smirks.

“Unlucky for you, they are very much intact and in better shape than yours.” You bite back.

“Is there any time of any day where the two of you don’t argue?” Vernon groans from behind you. “Can we just…enjoy the little time we have left until we arrive at the venue?”

“Mmm, of course we can, Nonie.” You turn your attention to your other bodyguard. “He’s never fun, either way. But you are way more fun, right?” You make yourself comfortable in his lap, your manicured hands smoothing over his chest.

“Anything for you, honey. You know me.” Vernon smirks and leans in the crevice of your neck, lips and tongue gliding over your skin.

Wonwoo sighs in defeat and averts his eyes from the unfolding scene, trying to ignore it. 

If it wasn’t for the hefty salary that gets deposited every month in his bank account, he wouldn’t even be here. He would rather be walking at a dingy bar, rather than have to babysit a rich brat like you. 

And the worst thing of all? You’re smart and hot as fuck - to the point where he wants to stuff your mouth full of his dick and make you cry.

You’re aware of how uptight and cold Wonwoo is towards you and you can’t really blame him for his attitude - being head of security under your dad basically requires that attitude. Which makes messing around with him even more fun for you.

Vernon, on the other hand, is your assigned personal bodyguard and would fold in half for you, if you asked him to. One bat of your eyelashes is enough to make him cave to any request of yours, thus giving you the perfect cover for your night escapades.

But of course, he always gets rewarded for his secrecy and faith to you - in the form of letting him fuck you dumb more than often.

This is one of the occasions where you want to mess around with both of them at the same time.

You throw the fabric of your gown backwards to uncover your legs and give yourself enough space to grind your clothed pussy over Vernon’s slacks. 

“Careful with your gown, honey.” He reminds you.

“It’s just fabric, I could have tens of that.” You grin towards him.

“How rich and bratty, coming from you.” Wonwoo comments with a venomous tone.

“Yeah, that’s because I am rich, bratty, pretty and smart and you want to fuck me so bad.” You reply boldly.

He slides next to Vernon and grips your jaw with his right hand, keeping it steady directly in front of his face.

“You’re right, little bitch. I want to fuck the brat out of you, to the point you’re crying and begging me to stop.” His voice feels deeper and colder than the ocean, his eyes burning holes in your skull through his horn-rimmed glasses.

You almost hate how hot and fuckable Wonwoo looks today - but you’ve always wanted to know what’s hidden under his professional attire.

“I would like to see you try, you fucking nerd. I bet you’re still a virgin-”

He cuts you off by dragging you off Vernon’s lap and pushes you down on your knees, between his thighs.

“Dude, what the hell!” Vernon glares at the older man.

“Shut the fuck up, Vernon. You have gotten plenty of time with her since you got your job. Now sit back and watch.” Wonwoo orders him as he unbuttons his pants and lets his cock spring free.

Your eyes widen at the size and it makes your mouth fill with saliva and your pussy dampens your Victoria’s Secret panties.

“Tell me, Vernon - Does the pretty brat over here like to suck dick?” Wonwoo asks with a dangerous glint in his eyes as he runs his fist over his shaft.

“Y-Yeah, she does.” The younger man stutters.

“Does she swallow?”

“Yes, she does.”

“Yes what, Vernon?”

“Yes s-sir.”

“Hm, at least one of you can behave.” Wonwoo turns his attention to you again.

“Enjoying the power trip, Wonwoo?” You place your hands over his thighs, rubbing them up and down.

“It’s Sir for you, little brat.” He puts his hand behind your neck and brings your face close enough to let his cock slap against your cheek. “Now put your smartass mouth to good use, will you?”

“And what if I don’t want to?” You rile him up even more.

Wonwoo threads his hands in the back of your hair and forcefully slides his cock in your mouth. You gag when the tip hits your throat, but you manage to suppress your reflex with ease.

“Fuck, honey…” Vernon curses under his breath and starts palming himself over his pants.

“No need to be jealous, Vernon - I’m sure you have experienced this already, right?” Wonwoo chuckles as he uses your hair as leverage to fuck your face.

“I could get used to this, Y/N - this cock-stuffed version of yours is quite likable.”

You grunt in response and purposefully drag your teeth over his cock, eliciting a hiss from him. He drags you off his cock and pulls you upwards, forcing your back to arch.

“Do that one more time and your daddy will find out his precious daughter is a fucking slut.” He threatens you.

“You don’t want to do this, Sir.” You slur the title on purpose. “You’ll be at loss in the end, especially after fucking me like you wanted to,” you grip his wrist, “So, I suggest you keep your mouth shut and I’ll let you fuck me stupid. How does that sound?” You grin.

“Little bitch.” Wonwoo scoffs and puts your mouth back on his cock.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look so damn pretty.” Vernon moans on the side, his own pants long unbuttoned, hand stroking his pre-cum coated dick. 

Your eyes flit to the younger man and you send him a wink, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo.

“Eyes on me, brat. And you,” he snaps his head towards Vernon, “You better not fucking cum until I say so.”

“S-Sir, I won’t-”

“Don’t. Fucking. Cum.” He repeats with something akin to a growl.

“Fuck, I won’t!” Vernon whines in defeat, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck, his hand slowing down to keep himself on edge.

You moan around Wonwoo’s cock, nails digging in the fabric of his pants as you hollow your cheeks and do your best to bring him closer to his orgasm.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum- You better swallow every last drop like you do with him, princess.” 

You bat your eyelashes to let him know you’re ready and he presses your head until you’ve taken him till the base. You can feel the saltiness of his cum coursing down your throat. You pin your eyes on Wonwoo and stare at him until you’ve sucked his cock clean, swallowing till the last drop.

He retracts his hand and lets you get off his lap, whispering a few words in your ear, low enough to not be heard by anyone else.

“I don’t mean to interrupt but I really need to fucking cum and I don’t want to bust my nut all over the suit.” Vernon half moans, hand gripping his cock tight.

You move between his legs with a sultry smile and engulf his cock with your mouth. It only takes him a few harsh sucking motions of your lips to make him cum, a string of heavy breaths and moans coming out of his mouth.

You release his shaft with an obscene popping sound, opening your mouth to show him the amount of cum in it. You swallow it in one gulp, licking your lips clean.

“Filthy little slut.” Wonwoo clicks his tongue as he tucks himself back in.

“Couldn’t agree more.” Vernon clears his throat and tidies himself as well.

“That was definitely fun,” you sit back on the leather seats and open your purse to take out a pack of wet wipes and clean your hands. A small hair brush follows right after and you fix your hair, as if they were never touched in the first place.

“How is your makeup still intact?” Vernon asks you with narrowed eyes.

“Ever heard of waterproof makeup?” You side eye him.

“As long as Daddy is paying, everything must be on point for his pretty little heiress.” Wonwoo comments. “We’re here, be ready.”

“No need to remind me of my job, Wonwoo.”

As soon as he opens the door of the limousine to help you out, you’re welcomed with countless flashing cameras and microphones shoved in your way, but Vernon rushes next to your side to keep them at a safe distance. 

You put on your finest smile for the cameras, knowing which way to turn your head so the gossip magazines will have only your best shots. 

The noises of the crowd are drowned out once the three of you enter the venue of the gala and your bodyguards double check that everything is okay and you can proceed.

“How ironic to see the two of you being so professional while you were cumming like highschool boys just a few minutes ago.” You giggle.

“How ironic to see you acting like a proper lady after sucking off your security entourage in your daddy’s limousine like a cheap whore.” Wonwoo smirks and you fight back the urge to hit his head with your purse, as you walk over to the table with your assigned seat.

“You didn’t have to be so sassy about it.” Vernon covers his mouth to hide his grin.

“And you should have been more discreet with your visits in her room.” Wonwoo almost snaps at him with a stern look on his face.

“You’re not actually gonna snitch, are you?” The younger man looks at him partially horrified.

Wonwoo’s lips curl in a dirty smirk and he leans into Vernon’s ear.

“As long as you’re willing to stand guard in front of her door all night long while I’m teaching the little brat some manners, then your dirty secret is safe with me.”

Vernon pokes his cheek with his tongue, wishing he was able to shove his fist in Wonwoo’s face.

“So? Are you willing to do that, Chwe?”

“.....Yes sir.”

“That’s what I thought.”

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism x Reader: Boyfriend Moments

G/N. Fluffy scenes. Yes, this bitch delulu. Sammy, Vin, Goo, Jake, Ryuhei, Gun. Masterlists

Samuel Seo

"Try this," you offer to Samuel your tea.

That is delicious, by the way. And the way he pulls a face at the milky concoction mildly offends you.

You continue to wave the cup in your boyfriend's face, straw close to being shoved up his nose, drink splashing perilously against the lid.

He gives in. Because your dedication for annoying shit like this knows no bounds.

Steadying your hand and leaning forward, he takes a gulp from your drink. It's actually not bad. Better than he thought but-

"Too sweet," Samuel says, straightening and pushing his glasses back up his nose.

"Suit yourself," you shrug, appeased that at least Sammy has given it a go and you take a sip yourself. Then, with a grin- "It's like we just kissed."

He arches an eyebrow at you pointing at the straw, can't help rolling his eyes even as he chuckles at your silliness.

"Here,"  Samuel leans down again and kisses you. Tasting the tea on your lips except this time it is much much nicer. Delicious even. "Now we've actually kissed."

.

.

Vin Jin

Vin is undeniably cringe, according to Mary. And also a simp, according to-

Everyone, actually.

But he reasons that everyone must be jealous because if they found someone like you, they would also be all over them too.

Much like Vin is.

He's a lot more PG-13 than you expected though, less handsy. Even with his reputation, cool and cocky and honestly a bit of an asshole, Vin loves simply holding your hand, your fingers intertwined with his. Walking down the street and everyone knowing you're together.

Maybe it's a bit childish to like this one simple gesture so much. But he doesn't care. Sometimes he likes to just look at your hand in his, comparing sizes, touching your palm against his, and feeling the softness of your skin.

It doesn't stop there though.

He gives you loud obnoxious smooches on the cheek, rests his chin on your head, forces you to share a seat, squished together with your legs draping over his.

Vin wants you close by all the time. And he used to be annoyed when Mary would call him embarrassing, tell him to get a room. 

Has tried to keep a little distance at first yet continues to be drawn to you like a magnet. In the end, he has stopped caring. Besides, he thinks having you by his side automatically makes him a lot cooler.

.

.

Goo Kim

Goo knows what comes out of his mouth is gold, it’s just a shame that other people don't.

Gun tells him to shut up frequently, Crystal's eyes glaze over as she hums politely, and he knows Kouji tunes him out.

He takes it as a challenge sometimes, to see how long he can keep talking before he makes them awkward and uncomfortable, wasting their time, hoping to drive them insane.

It hasn't happened yet, but he's proud to say he's been close.

"And then what happened?" you ask Goo, leaning forward eagerly to hear the end of his story.

His brows knit together, puzzled. "Huh?"

"You can't stop there. What happened next?!"

Goo blinks. This (or 10 minutes ago) was usually when everyone told him to shut up. "You actually wanna hear the rest of it?"

You give a look to say 'duh' and nod.

Huh. Goo feels himself tearing up, dramatically thumps his hand against his heart and tells you you're the best.

"I know. Now finish the story."

.

.

Jake Kim

Jerry can recite all your key facts. Where you were born, your date of birth, blood type, horoscope.

Jason sometimes corrects him on the MBTI though.

Brad knows your favourite foods and favourite drinks, Lineman your favourite clothes and brands.

Lua knows that you prefer colder weather, although there's nothing like a sunny day to brighten up your mood. Or hiding somewhere warm and cosy when the rain pitter patters outside.

Sinu can recite your's and Jake's anniversary off by heart. The gifts that you have bought him, and what he has bought for you. He also knows what Jake was considering buying for you but decided not to in the end, for one reason or another.

Fact of the matter is, Jake slips you into all his conversations with everyone. It's a bit of a talent, to be honest. Even if the conversation isn't remotely related to you, Jake still finds something to mention that involves you.

It was a headache, at first. Jake derailed discussions and Big Deal meetings with anecdotes and tidbits when you first got together. Over time it became barely noticeable, only off hand comments or throw away remarks here and there.

This worked out well for the crew, because no one had the heart to tell Jake to shut up. How could they when his face lights up, eyes soft and crinkling. and he smiles so sweetly talking about you.

.

.

Ryuhei Kuroda

"Hey," you murmur, kissing Ryuhei on the cheek as his eyes flutter open.

He's looking at you bleary eyed, smile spreading as he comes to. You both sport matching pillowcase wrinkles on your face, and Ryuhei's cowlick is even more outrageous than usual.

"That was good," he says, stretching his hands overhead, elongating his limbs and arching his foot.

"The best nap," you agree.

Intimacy used to mean sex to Ryuhei. All physical.

Now, well it still means that because it is Ryuhei after all. But it also means deep conversations into the night with you. Sharing opinions and thoughts and vulnerability. Having another half (a better half, if you asked him) to be with, share experiences with.

And one of his favourite experiences that he recently discovered, is napping with you.

Ryuhei had expected his favourite experiences to be all manners of lewd and explicit things. But nothing can beat the soft domesticity of him curled around your back, both your breaths starting to deepen as you drift to sleep in his arms and he follows closely behind.

.

.

Gun Park

You wouldn't say Gun is a feeder, but the fact that he cooks and feeds you so well came as a surprise.

"Nutrition is important," he would tell you, prepping in a frilly apron that you bought for him as a joke but wore anyway because why wouldn't he? It's from you.

You also don't understand what role nutrition plays when he prepares the food in cutest ways. Carrots in the shape of flowers, octopus cut sausages, onigiri with faces made from nori.

Tonight, you peer down at your katsu curry, with a bear shaped out of rice lounging in it.

You can't help the burst of laughter, thinking of your boyfriend - the fearful Gun Park, the Shiro Oni, in the kitchen cooking this for you.

"What?" Gun asks, seated across the table, a spoonful halfway to his mouth.

"It's too cute," You grin at the black eyed menace, the guy that was supposed to be all about fighting but has a terribly soft spot for you.

You glance down at the bear again, in an adorably relaxed position with steam rising around it reminiscent of an onsen. It seems almost a shame to eat it. "I can't believe you made this."

Gun gives you a matter of fact answer, "You like it more when it's cute." 

Oh.

The fact he goes to all this effort, just because you like it more, makes him the cutest of all.

[elllisaaa]

ateez as chase atlantic songs

-> pairing : ateez x fem!reader

-> words count : 4.9k words

-> genre : smut, angst, toxic relationships, friends with benefits, exes, enemies

-> warnings : use of 'slut', 'bunny', 'whore', 'good girl', 'brat' & 'bitch', dom&sub dynamics, dirty talk, teasing, creampie, swearing, unprotected sex, jealousy, possessivness, begging, semi-public, sex, rough sex, body worship, praise, oral (m. & f. receiving), deep throating, cum eating, degradation, dry humping, marking, fingering, choking, bondage, edging, handjob, face slapping, hair pulling

-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI

-> sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !

-> masterlist | ateez masterlist | 1k event masterlist

KIM HONGJOONG - SWIM

"the water’s getting colder, let me in your ocean, swim."

→ Dating Hongjoong had never been easy. He was always busy, never there when you needed him to, always canceling plans and dates and not putting any effort into your relationship. That was why you broke up with him, that was why you left without any regrets. But one thing you must admit was that the sex with him had always been incredible, the best you’ve ever had. And everytime he called you back because he needed you to unwind some tension, you always came back to him.

“- Just like that, baby, ride me.”

His hands holding your hips and guiding your movements made shivers come alive on your skin, leaving you a trembling and moaning mess on top of him. You couldn’t even count how many times you ended up exactly like that, riding him in his desk chair when he was too stressed by work to go out and find a girl to fuck. Why bother when you were here to give him your pussy whenever he wanted to ?

“- Joong… I’m so close.

- Me too, gonna fill you up, yeah ? Gonna make you mine again.”

You could only moan and throw your head back, pleasure overtaking every one of your senses. There was no feeling left between the two of you, but the sex was too good to give it up. 

“- Fuck, you’re dripping with my cum, look at that.”

Hongjoong scooped up the sticky substance sliding down your thighs, bridging up his fingers to your lips. And you obediently opened up your mouth, licking him clean. 

“- Such a good girl.”

And for him, you always were, because he knew exactly how to please you. 

"probably should’ve fucked on the first night, now i gotta wait for the green light."

→ Since your friend group was still the same as Hongjoong’s, you often ran into him at parties. And even if you knew you would always end the night with him railing you, you loved to play hard to get, to flirt with every other man there to make him mad. It was petty, and it was out of line, but you couldn’t help it, couldn’t help playing with him a little bit. 

“- You think you can do that in front of me ? Acting like a bitch just to get my dick.

- Not my fault you can’t get enough of me.”

He got you pinned against a wall in the hallway, one of his legs slotted between your thighs and pressing against your dampened panties just right. He had that smirk on his face - dangerously attractive.

“- Come on, you know better than to tease me.”

But you didn’t want to surrender this easily, and Hongjoong knew it, gripping your jaw and guiding your lips to his. While he was devouring your mouth, his hands took a hold of your waist, making you grind against his leg. And soon enough, you were moaning in his mouth as if you were in heat. 

“- Just say yes, Y/N.”

You had just enough consciousness left to nod and not let him fuck you where everyone could interrupt you. But truth be told, you might have let him do it if he asked you. You couldn't help but be drawn right back to him every time you saw him. It was like muscle memory, your body remembering how good it felt every time his hand was innocently laying on your waist. And you were completely over him, but not his body. And judging by the looks of the hickeys he loved to leave on your skin, he was not over yours either. 

PARK SEONGHWA - RIGHT HERE

"it’s happening again, well, i don’t give a fuck about your friends, i’m right here."

→ It all started when San introduced you to Seonghwa and his pretty long hair, and his pretty face, and his pretty body. You couldn’t detach your gaze from him, and it seemed like he couldn’t look away from you either. That’s how you ended up in his bed for the first time - but definitely not the last.

“- Seonghwa… People could see us.

- It’s okay, pretty, nobody cares. Just let me kiss you some more.”

And like a magnet, your lips met his again. You could feel his hands roaming all around your body, pushing your dress higher up your thighs so you could fully straddle him. You could feel his hard on pressing against your core every time you shifted a little bit against him, low moans escaping him and crashing against your lips. You couldn’t help the urge to grind against him faster, little whines coming out of your mouth and mingling with his own sounds. 

“- Don’t stop, pretty, you’re doing so good for me.”

His praises that he made sure to whisper with his head buried into your neck made you shiver in his hold, but Seonghwa was already too focused on marking up your skin to care about the fact that you looked so fucked up already, that they were still people around the two of you. 

“-  I wanna fuck you in front of everyone, show them how much of a slut you are for me, show them how perfect you are and that they’ll never make you feel as good as I do.”

The worst part was that it was true, and that you would let him do that if he touched you the right way to make you fold. Except that Seonghwa wanted to keep the view of your bare cunt all for himself, making you scream his name behind closed doors for everyone at the party to hear.

"i’m always ready to go, i’m calling you pick up your phone."

→ “- I can’t Hwa, I’m out with friends right now and you know it. 

- But please, lovely, I really want to see you, I need you.”

You bit your lips as you looked around the bar, seeing all your friends laughing and having fun, but all you could think about was Seonghwa and the last time he made you feel good. So you sent a single message to your best friend, and you left. 

“- Just thinking about you going out dressed like this… It’s driving me crazy, you’re driving me crazy, baby.”

But right now, he was the one driving you insane with the way his fingers moved inside of you, with the way his tongue was playing with your clit. It was always like that, and both of you loved it. You made each other go mad. He was jealous when he shouldn’t be, and you were possessive when you had no right to be. 

“- Please, Hwa…

- Gonna make you cum on my tongue first, yeah ? And then I’ll fuck you like you want to.”

You nodded and let yourself go to the feeling, your hands dipping in his hair and tugging on his black strands as if you wanted to push him even closer to you. And when he finally let you feel his cock, it was his hands that were lost in your hair, as if he needed something to ground himself in reality. 

“- You’re making me lose my mind, always here everytime I call you… You always come back to me, right ?

- Yes ! Yes, you’re the only one I need.”

You shouldn’t say that, and Seonghwa shouldn’t love hearing those words so much, he shouldn’t fuck you harder everytime you begged him for more only because your voice was as sweet as honey, only because your scent was intoxicating and invading all his sense. Because everytime you called, he was right here too, and everytime you needed him, he was ready to run to you anytime - even if he shouldn’t, because you weren’t his, and he wasn’t yours. 

JEONG YUNHO - SLOW DOWN

"she said “fuck me like i’m famous”, i said “okay”."

→ It wasn’t Yunho’s type to do this. Usually, he would go back to their hotel and let the other members go out and fool around with as many girls as they wanted. But you were different. It sounded so fucking cliché in his head, but it was the truth. There was something in the way you looked at him, something in the way you were behaving that attracted him to you like a magnet. 

“- I didn’t think you'd be the one taking me home tonight.

- Just because I don’t end up with a different girl every night it doesn’t mean that I don’t know how to recognize a pretty girl when I see one.”

And he did show you how beautiful he thought you were when he got you pinned against the wall of the elevator, hands groping your ass shamelessly while he was devouring your mouth. Maybe that was why he never fucked his fans after all - maybe it was because he was a sex god and that they’ll never get over him. 

“- Yunho… 

- Got you wet already, baby ? How are you gonna handle me when I’ll fuck you for real ?”

And he pressed his body against yours, making you feel his big cock through your clothes. The surprise on your face was evident, and Yunho grinned as he unfastened his belt slowly. 

“- You still want it pretty girl ?”

And you did. You showed him how much you wanted it when you got down on your knees to take him in your mouth as he looked down on you, finding it so cute to see you try to control your gag reflex. However, Yunho made sure to reward you by fucking you on every surface available of your apartment. He definitely was a sex god.

"you’re buried in the pillow, yeah, you’re so loud, but i’m about to show you baby, slow down."

→ When he asked you to leave him your number in case he came back to your city, you didn’t think that Yunho would actually text you. However, you sometimes received little messages when he saw something beautiful (“just like you”, he added every time). So in the end, you weren’t surprised when he mentioned that he was in town for a few days, and that he wanted to see you. 

“- Don’t rush, baby, I want to take my time with you.”

It felt awfully good to hear his voice whispering dirty words in ears again, but it felt too good to stop. You didn’t want to become one of his crazy groupies, but you had to admit that you missed him, that you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

“- Still the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Gonna let me eat it ?”

And how could you have said no to that ? You let Yunho do everything he wanted, let him worship your body as if you were a Greek goddess. By the time he finally got you on all fours, his big cock sitting deep inside of you, you were already a moaning mess, only able to remember his name, your brain too foggy to think about anything else. 

“- You’re so loud, baby, want everyone to hear that you’re a slut for me ?”

You shook your head, not ready to let the world know that you were in fact a whore for him.

“- Then fucking take it and shut your pretty mouth.”

One of his hands was pushing your head into the pillow, muffling your cries of pleasure every time his tip was kissing your cervix. And he didn’t want you to see the effect you had on him, he didn’t want to admit that you had been on his mind since the last time. You didn’t need to know that you were his favorite fan. 

KANG YEOSANG - INTO IT

"she don’t really like it but she needs me, yeah, she saying she don’t really miss me."

→ “- You’re so fucking childish, Y/N. I don’t even want to argue with you anymore.

- Just say you’re a coward and that you’re afraid of me.”

Yeosang only showed you his middle finger as he turned to leave the room. You let out an exasperated sigh as you took a sip of your coffee. Everytime you were having a good time, he had to ruin it all by his mere presence, and what was supposed to be a calm afternoon at the café with your friends turned into another rambling session about the guy you just couldn’t stand. 

“- Remind me what you were saying again ? That’s right, that I’m a coward ? But do you see yourself now, can’t even look me in the eyes because I’m fucking you too good.”

You wanted to deny, to say he was wrong. But deep inside, you knew he was right. You knew you were losing all your senses as soon as he got you alone, as soon as he got his hands on you. 

“- Yeo, it’s not… Shit ! You know I have to…

- Need to pretend in front of your friends that you’re not a slut for me ? Too ashamed that the poor guy has the richest girl of the college on her knees, right ?”

And he was too close to the truth for you to try and contradict him this time. If they all knew what you let him do to you behind closed doors when you were constantly talking behind his back everyday, they would ruin your reputation and your chances to take over your father’s company one day. 

“- You’re so fucking greedy for my cock.”

You were, you didn’t like it, but you were, to the point that you didn’t care about your future as long as you had him in your bed. 

"say she wanna fuck me latter, girl, i’m into it."

→ “- You’re coming tonight, right ?

- Maybe. I’ll text you later.”

It pained him a little to be so cold with you sometimes, but he had to play hard to get if he didn’t want to lose himself in you completely. Yeosang was aware that your relationship - if you could even call it like that - wasn’t made to last. He was from the middle class and you were rich, and even if he didn’t like these stereotypes, there was no way that you would stop being embarrassed of him one day, there was no way that he could be a part of your world one day.

“- You missed me, uh ? That’s why you always end up calling.

- Yes, always need you Yeo.”

But in the end, he was always back to you, back to the expensive sorority you were staying at, back to these parties he never fitted in. But you were here. 

“- That’s right, you love it when I call you a slut. What would everybody think of you if they knew that you beg for my cock every night ?”

You didn’t want him to reveal the truth about you, but at the same time, you wanted it so bad. Maybe you could live with him, maybe it could be your happy end. And maybe they would think he had corrupted you, but you were into it, and you were into him. But you were not ready to leave your golden cage just yet. 

CHOI SAN - OHMAMI

"telling your friends you hate me but i know you can’t get enough."

→ You couldn’t stand the way he was ogling you like he owned you, and you couldn’t stand the way he glared at every guy approaching as if he had any right over you and your body when he didn’t. He never had any power over you, and you would never let him gain some. Or at least, that’s what you tried to convince everyone of, including yourself. 

“- What are you doing here San ?

- Don’t play dumb with me, sweetheart. We both know what we're here for.

- Go away ! I don’t want to have anything to do with you.”

But the way your breath hitched in your throat as he got closer to you was betraying you, and you knew he was aware of the state he was putting you in. You wanted to make him drop his annoying smirk, and you wanted to make him regret everything he ever did to you. Maybe that was why you kissed him first. Maybe that was why you forced your tongue in his mouth even when he was trying to get you off of him. 

“- What do you think you’re doing Y/N ?

- Exactly what you wanted, Sannie.”

The surname sounded horribly good coming from you, and San didn’t want to see the smug look on your face anymore. So even if he was disgusted by your existence, he kissed you again, and again, and again, until you couldn’t think anymore, alcohol and lust both clouding your mind. 

“- And what now ? You’re gonna fuck me ?

- Maybe I should. 

- Yeah, maybe you should.”

"i bent the corner then she bent it for me sidways, might have to fuck her on the highway, yeah."

→ Every party San was there was a torture. You remembered every detail of his lips against yours when all you wanted was to forget about it. When your eyes crossed his, it was as if you could still feel your hands tugging on his hair, and his fingers slipping past the hem of your skimpy dress. Everytime your mind drifted back to these memories, you felt on the verge of throwing up. But your only way to relieve your stress was through him, sadly.

“- Didn’t think you would be back to me so soon, sweetheart. 

- Don’t play dumb, San. You know I’m just here because you got some good weed. 

- Come with me, I left it in my car.”

You were suspicious, but you really needed a good smoking session and he was the only one that could offer you that right now. So you followed him, and you didn’t think further when he asked you if you wanted him to roll you a joint right now. You must have to be a little more considerate next time if you didn't want to end up riding San in his car. 

“- Always knew you were slut, I should’ve given you my dick sooner.”

You wanted to throw back a clever answer at him, but only a moan escaped your mouth. The car was moving along with every one of his thrusts into your pussy, and the windows were so fogged up, there was no way people didn’t know what was going on.

“- Can’t get enough of me, uh ?

- Don’t get so full of yourself, I doubt you can make me cum.”

His condescending laugh as he wrapped a hand around your throat made you shiver. And maybe you should get out and never see him again, but it was all so disgustingly good. 

“- Oh, but I’m not the one who will end up full, Y/N. You think I’m letting you go before giving you a little souvenir ? You’re gonna take it all, and think about it for days after I’ve forgotten about the way you taste.”

It was a lie, he was equally as obsessed with you. But the desire he was feeling for you was unmistakable, even if it made him sick to admit it. 

SONG MINGI - FRIENDS

"just tell me what you’re doing with that other guy ‘cause i ain’t got patience to slow down the pace."

→ Mingi always stuck to looking at you from afar, to only being your best friend. Even if you made out with him a few times, even if he had eaten you out on numerous occasions when your dates couldn’t even make you cum. Even with that, he was still your best friend, and he shouldn’t feel jealous of the guy you were drunkenly grinding against. 

“- Mingi ! Why don’t you come and dance with me ?”

And he could never deny you anything. So he said yes, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you as close to him as possible. Your eyes were glazed by all the alcohol you drank, but that still didn’t stop you from noticing the way Mingi was shamelessly staring at your lips. 

“- You want to kiss me ?

- You know I’ll always say yes.”

So you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and you let him slip his tongue into your mouth, and let his hands push you closer to his body. Everytime your lips touched his, Mingi couldn’t help thinking about how good you were tasting, about how well you were fitting in his arms. 

“- You’re taking me home tonight ?

- Thought you wanted to go back to this guy’s place.

- No, I always want you in the end.”

The sincerity pouring from your words made his heart beat faster, and that same night when you were laying in his bed and he was balls deep inside of you, it finally felt perfect - from the way you were moaning his name to the clench of your cunt around him.

"what the hell were we ? tell me we weren’t just friends, this doesn’t make much sense." 

→ “- You can’t come and ruin every one of my dates, Mingi !

- Yeah ? But who do you come to when they don’t know your body like I do ? And who do you come crying to when they leave you alone and I have to pick you up ? I’m always here when you need me, can’t you see that ?”

Flames were burning in your best friend’s eyes like never before, and you could only blame yourself and your inability to face the truth, to admit your own feelings. 

“- We're just friends ! You have no right over me.

- Do you really think friends make out the way we do, Y/N ? Do you think friends know that you like to be called a slut ? Do you think friends know how to fuck you the way I do ?”

You didn’t realize how close he had gotten, too entranced by the way he was looking at you as if he wanted to eat you. And you knew he was right, you knew that you shouldn’t be friends with him after all that happened, but the “what if”’s always scared you enough to chicken out. 

“- Then what do you want ?

- You.”

It was as simple as that, and Mingi made sure to prove it to you when he repeated these three words through the night, these three words he was dying to tell you for years. And he made sure that you knew no one could ever make you cum as hard as he did, and he made sure that you knew no one could ever compare to him, because who could understand you better than your friend ?

JUNG WOOYOUNG - MEDDLE ABOUT

"now if i could figure it out, i’d take you back to my house so we could meddle about"

→ Your eyes were shining under the club's lights, and Wooyoung couldn't help but hold your gaze for longer than he should everytime they crossed, because there was just something about you that he couldn’t get enough of. He never saw you before that night, but he knew that he wanted to have you as soon as he laid his eyes on you. 

“- Can I offer you another drink ?”

You looked up at him with a slight grin on your face, because you weren’t blind - you noticed how he was staring at you all night, and you would be lying if you said that you hadn’t checked him out too.

“- What for ?

- Because you’re a pretty girl. Do I need another reason ?

- Depends. But since you’re quite handsome yourself, I’ll say yes.”

That was how it all started, and you quickly forgot about your friends you came to the bar with and spent the whole night talking with him instead. You didn’t think you would click with him past physical attraction, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up either. And as time and drinks passed, Wooyoung got more and more touchy, his hands landing on your thighs, on your waist, rubbing circles against the exposed skin of your sides due to your skimpy dress. 

“- Wanna end the night at mine ?

- I don’t come back to the guys’ places on the first night, Woo.

- Doesn’t mean I can’t fuck you somewhere else.”

And you obviously couldn’t argue with such a logic - and maybe that you wanted him too much to say no. That was how you ended up riding him in the backseat of his car, head thrown back in bliss and his hands guiding your hips in a rhythm that had you losing your mind so easily. 

"you got me down on my knees, it’s getting harder to breathe out."

→ “- Please, baby, don’t make me wait.

- But I think you deserved it, don’t you ?”

You had been teasing him for far too long for him to even remember when you started stroking his cock and taking him into your mouth. His hands were closed in fists, trying to ground himself in reality even if he was slowly losing his mind with the way you had tied him up, forbidding him from touching you. 

“- Come one, don’t be a brat.”

Your hand coming down to slap his face had him moaning embarrassingly loud, the way he was pounding into you and making you cry last weekend long forgotten. 

“- You’re the one doing everything to get on my nerves, baby. Acting like a slut and flirting with anyone just to get my attention, right ?”

Wooyoung wanted to deny it, but it was the truth. Whenever you didn’t give him all your time, he was willing to do everything it took to earn it back, even if it meant that you were going to edge him for hours and hours. 

“- You’re such a dumb whore, it’s pathetic.

- Let me cum, please, please, I need it.”

It only took another “slut” whispered right against the skin of his neck for the boy to let go and cover your hand in his sticky release. Even if he knew he wasn’t your only one, Wooyoung couldn’t help coming back to you every time, because he couldn’t stop thinking about you - one word from you, and he was on his knees. And it was indeed pathetic, but he couldn’t care less when you felt so divine. 

CHOI JONGHO - CHURCH

"stay on the ground ‘till your knees hurt, no more praying baby, i’ma be your preacher."

→ When you first met Jongho, you thought of him as a sweet guy, always so caring and gentle despite being sometimes shy and a little quiet around you. And even when you started going out together, he was always so cute and gentle - holding the door for you, walking you home and gifting you flowers. 

“- You better quit the attitude and behave if you want to cum at all tonight, bunny.”

But now that he got you down on your knees, hands tied down behind your back, and forcing his cock down your throat because you had teased him earlier that day, your views of him completely changed. And honestly, you liked it like that, as if the moans you were letting out around him weren’t enough of a hint.

“- That’s more like it, doesn’t it feel good to listen to me, sweetheart ?”

You nodded as best as you could, with saliva dripping down your chin and tears running down your cheeks. It made sense with the pool of arousal in your underwear, though. You knew that obeying to your boyfriend meant a delicious reward in the end. 

“- Such a good girl when you want to, gonna make me cum. You’re gonna swallow it all, uh ?”

You didn’t even need to answer that because you always did, never wasting a drop and maintaining that eye contact as Jongho released down your throat, groaning lowly at the sinful sight you offered him. He would never admit it, but you being a little brat had its perks as it gave him an excuse to punish you and play with you in any ways he wished. 

"baptize in your thighs ‘till it hurts, ‘cause i’m about to take you back to church."

→ “- You’re so needy bunny, what’s gotten into you.

- It’s the suit, you look too good.”

The little smirk on Jongho’s face as he pushed you down on the bed was as annoying as it was turning you on. Whenever you where in the audience at an award show and he wore these fucking suits, it got you all worked up and you could barely hold back from jumping his bones until you were home.

“- I’ll never understand why when you literally see me naked all the time.

- Just accept that you are handsome as hell and fuck me.”

You yelped as he flipped you over easily and put you on your knees, bent down into the pillows - so easily that it did nothing to help with your growing need to feel him into you. 

“- Watch your mouth, bunny. You don’t want to make me mad now.”

You shook your head and Jongho slapped your ass as a reward. And when you felt him eagerly sliding your dress past your hips and only pushing your panties to the side before he filled you up, you knew that he had craved this all night too. 

“- Always so tight and wet for me.

- Just for you.”

And he certainly reminded you of that as he ruined you that night, making you cry and scream his name, making your knees buckle and your scalp hurt from his fingers pulling at your hair, making you lose your sanity and cum like no one had before. Because Jongho was the sweetest boyfriend ever, but he was also the meanest when it came to the bedroom, and that duality would probably be the death of you.

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

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[b1ravenclaw]

Azriel has a mate and when he starts spending time with Elain. She becomes distant.

She sees the almost kiss with Rhys and she leaves and Rhys doesn’t say anything for her.

She eventually comes back and is in “fuck him. I’m a bad bitch” era and Azriel has to grovel hard cause she isn’t taking any shit.

You can end it however you want.

Relief

note: I hope I did it justice :)

warnings: unedited, angst

The almost kiss was just the cherry on top of the fucking cake. 

It started slow, of course, but it went at a slow steady pace. Always there to nag at my insides, something so silly and small I could not complain, really. So what if he was befriending the High Lady’s sister, it was expected she made some friends considering her abrupt start at fae life. What was not expected was Azriel would altogether stop making time for you. His mate. His fucking mate.

The lingering glances he once shared with you were now hers, his attention once solely yours was now solely hers. And you did not want to believe, when you clinged to hope on those cold nights alone that he may only be distracted because of his harsh work. You supposed he avoided your touch because his insecurities of not being enough may have crawled and found its way inside him again. 

But, alas, it was not it. It was just her. Fucking Elain, and she was not to blame. He was. How could he neglect his mate? His other half. How could he be so vile and cruel, not only to you, but to himself as well. He did not expect you to forgive him, did he? Or to never find out? 

You did not know what was worse. That, until you saw the look on Rhysand’s face, when his violet eyes left anger daggers at Azriel, to you they only emanated pity. Pure pathetic pity. His mouth opened and closed a few times, the High Lord of Night at a loss of words, congratu-fucking-lations Azriel. 

The walk to your room was shameful, glamouring yourself as to not be seen by no one, not wanting to wait for him, to hear what Rhys had in store for him. You just wanted to go away, your things were quick to be packed, and Kallias and Vivienne were not alarmed to see you at their palace doors unannounced. However they were alarmed by the sad glimmer in your eyes, tears refusing to be dropped and, instead, freezing. Your lashes starting to become white with the cold.

“Oh Dear.” Was all Vivienne, your cousin, said. Your only family member alive. The family you would have now that Azriel fucked everything up. Your hopes of having a family crushed right before you, and you let it happen. Had you fighted him would it have changed anything? Would his interest in Elain have died down or grown further more? You felt your heart growing colder. Vivienne had asked if you wanted company sleeping tonight, but you refused. You did not want her to see how much you could cry about it, and when you thought it was over you felt it. Over the bond you felt it, his feelings, and it wasn’t remorse, it wasn’t sadness or even anger. He felt nothing, almost as if he was feeling contemptment. As if he was fucking relieved you left. 

You cried until sunrise, shame sent you to sleep and hunger woke you up the next morning.

Your stomach was empty and growling, and you were in desperate need of a shower. But the first thing you did that morning was neither bathe or eat. You looked in the mirror at your disheveled image, at your red puffy eyes you focused on your feeling of emptiness and hopelessness and sent that perfectly destroyed image down the golden thread connecting you to the winged male, and closed it. You looked your heart and mind at seven keys, never to be opened again, never to be toyed with. 

That morning after bathing and brushing your long hair you cut it at shoulder length, you found your best dress, one that had a high detailed neckline and went past your feet. 

“Y/n.” Said Kallias, surprised, “Good morrow.”

“Good morrow, my lord.” You said with a courtesy. “My lady.”

“Y/n, your hair… it’s different.”

“And so am I, I thought it would be fitting. Don’t you?”

“Of course.”  Her voice was soft, as if she was scared if she spoke too strongly you would break. But you could not be broken, not anymore. 

“I was…”

“You don’t need to say what happened if you do not wish to y/n, you are always welcome at our home. Your home.” Kallias said, ever the High Lord. 

“Thank you, Kallias. But I wish to, just to clear things up. As I suppose they will want to contact me.”

“Rhysand may have sent word, as well as your mate.”

“I would appreciate it if you called him by his name, as he is no longer my mate.” They both inhaled sharply, the food at the table left untouched. “I supposed I saw it coming, he… Well, he took interest in another female. It has been quite sometime. The final straw was, well, his lack of respect for me and self control.” 

“Oh, y/n.” Vivienne was at my side, but it was Kallias voice that made my heart warm.

“Do you want me to end him?”

“As much as I would appreciate it, I know it would not be good, politically speaking.” 

“We can find our way around it.” “I’m sure you can. But… part of me wants him to live with it, see if he will suffer even if it’s a little.” 

“Your call, Vivienne’ family is my family. You know it.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

It was a week later the day you left, that Rhysand’s letter arrived. It was sealed and it smelled of the home you once cared for, one you did not wish to be in anymore. 

Dear y/n, 

I can not begin to imagine how you are feeling, I am writing to you to make sure you are safe  and well, as well as one can be in your situation. Kallias sent word you are with him and Vivienne, but alas please tell me if you need anything I can help with.  

We all miss you dearly, unfortunately word got out faster than  I could contain, we are all mad at him, and I forbade him to contact you. 

He would like to speak to you, but you owe him nothing. 

I hope to see you soon.

Your dear friend, High Lord of Night, Rhysand.

You answered the letter a few days later, letting him know Azriel was not to contact you, or else he would die. You didn’t think they believed it, you could never kill Azriel, even now. It was a month after that you saw Feyre and Rhysand, and how you missed them. All of them, they were your family once too and as if sensing your insecurity Feyre whispered in your ear as she left that you were still family, and as much as you would like to believe it, you knew they  would never turn on Azriel. 

Eight months later you felt strong enough to return to the night court, Vivienne and Kallias held you as much as possible, but when you were strongly inclined to retrieve the rest of your belongings yourself they hugged you goodbye. And when the inevitable happened, when you crossed his path despite Rhysand telling you he made sure Azriel had left before you arrived. When you looked into his almond eyes, that once gave you immense joy, you felt nothing, almost contempt. You felt relieved, that he could not affect you anymore, would not affect you anymore.

“My love…” “Azriel, it’s Y/n to you. Or Winter Court emissary.” 

“Y/n, please, don’t do this, let’s talk.”

“I will do as I please, Spymaster. Just like you did all those months ago.”

“I made a mistake.”

“And I hope it was worth, I hope you at least got to fuck her.”

“I didn’t. I lo-”

“Oh, that’s a shame. So you did really throw it all away, over what? A silly kiss? It truly is pathetic, Azriel.”

“Y/n, I should never have allowed myself to be lured away from my mate, I see that now.” “Lured away?” You scoffed, you could hear heavy footsteps approaching the room, probably Cassian’s. But you did not care for it. “Is that what you call it? Did she poison you?” “No?”

“Did she give you a love potion?”

“No, she didn’t.” “Did she enchant you with a spell?”

“No, and it does not matter, I shouldn���t-” “Then you were not lured Spymaster, maybe by your own lust and desire, but it was nothing you were physically weak against. She did not force you. You chose to betray me the moment you chose to spend time with her over me. “

“And I am so sorry.” His voice was broken, but you couldn't care less. You wished for him to hurt. “As you should be, and I hope Elain ends up being happier with Lucien than I ever was with you.” And as he tried to call you, tried to tug at the bond you once cherished with all your heart, it was much too easy to drown it all out, to distract yourself catching up with his family, your friends. You slept peacefully, the weight lifted off of your shoulders. The next morning it was much easier to put on the Winter Court colors and behold the tasks ahead of you, to serve your new High Lord. Your new court.

[maeedrg]

NEW PIERCINGS ?

Gojo x nipples pierced reader

ᯓ★

Synopsis : in which reader just got her nipples pierced, and wants to make it a surprise to her boyfriend. Well, he really liked it.

Words count : 3k

Warnings : fluff, swearing, smut, reader is fem, nipple play, half public sex, squirting, p in v, pet names, kinda jealous Gojo ?

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ Autor’s note : I got my nipples pierced this weekend, so I needed to do a fanfic about it.

｡⋆˚⋆✩₊⋆˚｡⋆♡⋆｡⋆ ˚｡⋆⊹⋆ ˚⋆｡⋆✧⋆˚｡⋆⋆ ｡⋆˚⋆✩₊⋆˚｡⋆♡⋆｡⋆ ˚｡⋆⊹⋆

Ouch. It’s so damn sensitive. Why is it so cold outside, anyways ? And the damn wind that goes through your clothes and hardens your nipples really wasn’t what you needed right now. Barely some minutes ago, you went to your favorite piercing shop, and got your breast pierced. On both sides. The fresh jewel on your flesh that gets colder because of the wind, reminds you how sensitive the area was for now. You sigh, sucking up a breath and deciding to look at your phone. You didn’t answer the texts of your boyfriend, after all. But you had a good reason. These new piercings were a surprise ! 

From ‘ Kakashi 2.0 : 

“I just ate 11 mochis, my belly hurts”

“nevermind I have room for more lol”

seen

“uh why aren’t you answering your beautiful boyfriend…. the fuck”

“alright girl in what position you guys are”

“HEY ARE YOU DEAD ?!!!!”

“The way I’m going to hollow purple this bitch you are with if you don’t answer right now”

seen

Oh oh. You can’t stop yourself from having a laugh escaping your lips. Both from silliness at Satoru’s text, and from nervousness. Yeah, maybe you did ignore him for half of the day… But hey, your excuses are valid ! And you didn’t think he would notice, since today he had a busy schedule, normally. As you walk back home, a bit like a truck, to avoid your clothes from brushing too often your nipples and the pain that comes with it, you decide to text back your boyfriend. The moment you start to type, suddenly two long arms wrap around your stomach and smash you against the chest of someone. You open wider your eyes, startled, but quickly relax when you recognize this familiar cologne that you love oh so much.

“Police, got the cheater ! What can you say to defend yourself, baby, uh ? I bet he didn’t even fuck you that well,” exclaims Satoru’s voice in your ear, pouting slightly and when you turn your head you can imagine how his eyebrows frown behind his blindfold.

“You scared me here !” you answer, breathing back normally and keeping your body rigid. Without knowing, the way he was hugging you from behind made the tissue of your clothes tighter. Which means hurting your sensitive breast. You bite the inside of your cheek to avoid hissing of pain.

“You are the one that scared me ! Why didn’t you answer for so long ? Didn’t you say you had nothing to do today, and would stay at home ?” continues your boyfriend, frowning and looking at you up and down. He directly notices how your body is tense. Weird…

“I wasn’t cheating on you, you idiot. But sorry for not answering, I had something to do,” you answer vaguely, taking off his arms from your waist. At first he keeps his iron grip around you, but sighs and loosen his hands when seeing your discomfort.

“Awww, you’re so mean. I still manage to text you when I’m killing curses, so what got you so busy to not be able to do it for a whole afternoon ?” he asks, pouting even more as he slides his hand in the small of your back while walking next to you towards your shared apartment.

You couldn’t tell him that you were occupied with going to the piercing shop (which was a bit far away from home), waiting your turn, then getting pierced, and everything that comes with it until… now. Yeah, it took longer than you thought. 

“Well, I'll tell you later,” you simply answer. Satoru opens his mouth and closes it back, frowning more and tightening his fingers on your hip. You open the door of the building at the same time, and he whines.

“What do you mean ? Is it a new way to torture me by testing my patience ?”

“Poor baby. The Great Gojo Satoru gets bullied by his girlfriend,” you roll your eyes saying that, grabbing his arm to pull him towards you and kiss his cheek. He immediately grins back at the contact of your lips against his cold skin.

“You gotta tell me quickly, then. If you don’t want to face the wrath of The Strongest…” he jokes, before taking your face and chastly kissing your lips mischievously. 

“I’m shaking from fear…” you tease back against his mouth.

A bit later, and after some silly back and forth, you force your boyfriend to wait in the bedroom while you go to the bathroom. Indeed, before showing him your surprise, you needed first to clean it from the small amount of dried blood. Even if Satoru was used to seeing gruesome things everyday, you insisted in your mind that you didn’t want it to be his first impression of your new decorated nipples. So you carefully wash them, with delicacy and care. You hiss slightly, trying to not move too much the jewel, the sensitivity of your skin making it a hard task. Once you are done, you put back your shirt on top and exit the washroom. 

At the sound of the door opening and closing, Satoru perks up and straightens back his seat on the bed. He looks at you, legs sprayed on manspread as he puts down his phone to the side.

“Took you long enough,” he complains.

“Don’t pout. Now are you ready to know the reason why your amazing girlfriend ignored you all afternoon ?” you ask teasingly, tilting your head to the side.

The white haired man quickly nods, eager to know. He even was bouncing his leg up and down, clearly impatient to finally have his answer. You smile, wider, and lift your shirt, exposing to your boyfriend your pierced nipples. Satoru pauses, and then slowly lifts his blindfold to reveal his blue eyes. The look on his face was something you needed to remember. You could feel his Six Eyes staring right back at your chest. 

“No way….” he whispers, cheeks slightly turning red and a cheeky grin forming on his lips as his pupils swing left and right to look at both.

“Yes way. You like it ?” 

He suddenly brings you closer, making you stand in between his legs as he analyzes your breast. He knew it like the palm of his hand, but he needed to discover it all over again now. He was fascinated, intrigued, biting his lower lip in excitement.

“I fucking love it. That’s so hot ! Why didn’t you tell me ? I would have come with you !” he cheers as he looks up at your face, then back down, then your face, then down. His long fingers help you remove your shirt completely, having free rein to touch your skin and admire your torso.

“I wanted to surprise you, that’s why,” you explain.

“Did it hurt ?” Satoru asks as his left thumb softly caresses the bottom of your breast, while the right one brushes your ribs.

“Yeah. But it was quick, to be honest. So it wasn’t that bad. But it’s very sensitive right now, even the brush of clothes can be uncomfortable or hurtful,” you describe as you recall the feeling of the needle, and how a hassle it was to walk down the street with your shirt and jacket touching them every second. 

“Sensitive, uh ?” he muses, his fingers about to touch your bundle of nerves, but you quickly snap it away. He pouts at your glare.

“Nuh-uh. No touching. Your hands aren’t washed, and it will hurt. Plus, I have to avoid touching the jewel or moving it as much as I can for one month,” you quickly explain, facing the sulking face of your man-child boyfriend. He opens wider his eyes at your words.

“One month ?!”

“One month, yes. My piercer said too that I can’t have any contact with… a mouth on it. For at least one month.”

The moment you say that, you see all colors leaving the already pale skin of Satoru. He couldn’t believe it. One of his favorite activities, which was sucking on your tits when having sex, was taken away from him. No way, no way ! He was doomed, cursed ! At what cost ? He couldn’t deny, it looked incredibly hot. But by seeing them, it made him crave touching them, toying with them, and exploring this new aspect of possible sensitivity on your body. That was like a new game to him ! And damn, he couldn’t even play with it for at least one month. That was hell on earth. Alright, maybe he was being a bit melodramatic right now. But Satoru liked to exaggerate when he couldn’t have what he wanted right on the spot.

“Y/n, you’re killing me here. That’s too looooong !”

“You gotta wait, love. Safety first,” you retort, shaking your head as he sighs theatrically, letting his face be buried in your stomach.

“I promise, when it’s healed enough, I’ll play with your tits so much you’ll cry for me to stop,” he pouts, muttering that, gazing back up at your face. You chuckle, caressing his hair. He really was a menace.

“Hey, don’t make me suffer here. I’m just doing what my piercer told me to do. He was clear about no contact-”, you start to say, before Satoru cuts you in the middle of your sentence, “he ?!”. 

You roll your eyes, trying to not laugh at his over exaggerated facial reaction. “Yes Satoru, he.”

“I can’t believe that you betrayed me like that… First you cheat on me with your piercer, and now I can't suck your tits for one month. What a tragedy ! The downfall of The Strongest…” he exclaims, dramatically falling backwards on the mattress behind him, bringing you to straddle him while he puts his free hand over his forehead as if he just fainted. 

“It’s literally his job ! You really are a drama queen…” you slightly chuckle, flocking his forehead and he whines at the pain. When he was with you, he really reminded you of a husky. Always being loud over every tiny inconvenience, or just any situation, to be honest.

“Well, maybe I can’t suck on the gorgeous boobs of my girlfriend, but I can still eat her out. Right ?” he suddenly states, lifting himself on his elbow and eying you down with his stupid wolfish grin of his. 

“Well, technically yes, but I didn’t shower so-”

“Perfect then !” he interrupts you as he flips you over, gently actually, to be sure to not hurt you, and then in a swift movement takes off your pants and pry open your thighs.

“Satoru, I still didn’t have time to shower !”

“You think I care ?” he answers as if you just said the dumbest thing ever, bringing your leg over his shoulder and kissing the inside of your flesh.

“Satoru…”

“That would be my distraction for one month, deal ?” he asks, eyes meeting yours as he kisses the top of your panties.

Oh, you were in for a ride. Of his face. 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ  

Heavens could be applause, time has come. You finally, finally could go back to your… activities with Satoru, as your piercings were healed enough. Through the weeks of healing, you realized that the myth of having this area pierced could possibly bring a higher sensitivity wasn’t fake. And your boyfriend was adamant on testing that right now. He was eager, way too eager, maybe. Satoru couldn’t wait, to the point that when you gave him the green light this morning by text, he decided that the moment he would finish his daily missions of exorcizing curses, he would do it.

Hell, he was being for real ! You were walking in the corridor of the campus, when a tall figure teleported right in front of you. You lift your head, a bit startled, and sigh when you realize it simply was your boyfriend.

“Satoru ? You already finished your miss- ah !” you get cut off the moment he grabs your legs and swings you over his shoulder, lifting you up and carrying you like that without a care in the world. His hand slaps your butt, staying on it to keep you steady as you now are hanging over him.

“I made it quick,” he simply answered in a tone of voice that meant business. Oh, the tension was high, very high.

He opens the door of an empty classroom, and closes it swiftly behind him, locking it in a soft thud. He puts you down on a table, looming over you.

“Love, it’s a classroom, what if some students enters-”

“Nobody will, I made sure of that,” he answers quickly, taking off his blindfold and looking at you with such hungry eyes that you shiver. Oh, the man was starved. 

He unbuttons your jacket and throws it on a chair, before doing so with your shirt while he smashes his lips against yours, not letting you answer him. There was no time to even talk, his mouth was eager. Why talking, anyways ? When he could instead please you like you both dreamed since the night you came back home with your little… surprise.

 His lips were moving against yours with need, and in no time you felt his cold fingers cup your breast. He presses himself in between your thigh, and at the same time his thumb caresses your hardened nipple, toying finally with the jewel. You open your eyes at the feeling, and let out a strangled moan of surprise. Fuck, it indeed was more sensitive than you remember it being before. After so long, this area was damn touch starved. And God, how good it felt, and that just from a small tiny touch.

He smiles against your lips, and presses his hard crotch against yours. Painfully hard, actually. Satoru bites your lower lip as he pinches your bundle of nerves, his other hand doing the same on the right side. His tongue invades your mouth and you quickly start to feel overwhelmed. He swallows your sweet moans of pleasure and whines of relief at the sensation. It started to feel warm, and you wanted more stimulation. Why was it so exciting ?

He chuckles and trails his lips down your neck, to your collarbone, tongue sliding towards your left tit. Without more useless teasing, his lips are on your nipple, and his tongue swirls around the jewel. You yank your head backwards, biting the inside of your cheek. His eyes are on you the whole time, drinking your cute facial reactions each time his tongue flickers on the top of your nipple, or on the way the jewel slightly moves left and right. He goes to suck on the right one, using his left hand to continue to stimulate both at the same time. 

“Feels good, uh ?”

You nod, not understanding how pleasurable it was. Because fuck, your body was on fire right now. The sensitivity of the area went skyrocket, and you squeeze your thighs around the hips of your lover as he continues to grind against your clothed cunt. He lifts a bit more up your skirt, allowing him more space to stimulate you down there as he eats your tits hungrily like the starved man he is.

“How cute,” he muses, sliding your panties on the side and pulling a bit down his pants to press his boxer against your slit. His voice rumbles against your piercing and makes you giddy. He was sucking on them so much it started to be sore, but you didn’t want it to stop, because you craved it to the bones.

You have no time to ride your pleasure that you feel his cock tapping a few times against your clit before smudging his precum and your wetness together, and then entering in one go inside your pussy. It went as easy as damn butter, you were so fucking soaked. And Satoru couldn’t help but roll down his eyes at the sensation, biting slightly your nipple to tease you and make you squeeze your walls around his dick. Just like the way he loved. Good, very good.

“So fucking tight-” he mutters, kissing back your lips to slide his tongue inside your mouth, using both of his hands to play with your breast now while he pounds quickly, chasing some relief and wanting to drive you faster to the edge. After all, it was risky, and you guys couldn’t fool around too long. He just wanted to make you cum first, to drive you slightly crazy. Tonight he would have all the time of the world to completely take care of you and your tits. Right now it was just… a trial.

“Wait, I’ll-” you babble, moaning louder as he tugs both piercings at the same time, thrusting hard inside your dripping walls. 

“Wait ? Nah,” he chuckles lightly, slamming his hips faster as he yanks your hair to allow him access to your neck, sucking on it and leaving a red mark. Well, that was inappropriate, other people could see it, but who cares. Satoru didn’t give a damn about that, anyways.

He slaps your tits before sucking back on them, gripping your ass to bring you even closer. You clench your pussy around his cock, the feeling overwhelming, his hot and wet mouth stimulating exactly where you wanted him too, his tongue working magic. Both the sensation of the coldness of the jewel, and the warmth of his tongue, was an amazing duality that made your head spin.

The pleasure was so good that you suddenly cum all over him, legs shaking and accidently wetting a bit of his boxer and the bottom of his shirt. You breath heavily, his lips kissing your tit before looking slowly back up at you while you come down your high. He smiles, still inside your cunt, not done yet with you, and straightens back as he bites his lower lip. He then asks : 

“Maybe I should get my nipples pierced too. What do you think, sweetheart ?” 

THE END 

[aakeysmash]

Roommate or boss?

Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.

Warnings: a lot of yapping. Male masturbation. A bit of violence from Katsuki’s part when a guy tries getting in your pants.

Word count: this part is 2.4k, added to the others (part 1, part 2, part 3) it’s 8.9k.

Next part: part 5

"It's too hot" you mewl while lying on your couch. “Step back, it’s my turn to be in front of the fan” you add, getting up and walking towards Katsuki.

“Fuck no, it’s been 3 minutes since you had a go at it. Go back to the hell hole you came from, pest” your roommate answers while throwing daggers at you.

You poke your finger in his exposed bicep. He doesn’t budge. Damn, this man is hard as a rock.

“Come onnnnn! This is the time when you should be a gentleman and let me cool down my beautiful face. Do you really want to be such a brute, Mr. Bakugou?” you bat your eyelashes seductively, trying to convince him.

Bakugou stares at you like your face is green and you’re a slimy frog that just came out of a pile of mud.

“I don’t fucking care. You’re a big girl and I ain’t no prince charming. Step the fuck back or I’m throwing you on that damn sofa. Wait your shitty turn” he says, flicking your forehead.

You whine some more, whisper “bitch” (it gets you another flick) and then turn back to lay on the floor. It’s colder than the couch, at least.

It’s summer, there’s 41°C outside, and your AC broke the other day. It’s so hot that you take out the ice from the freezer and it melts in 4 minutes (max). You happened to have one old crusty fan, that you and Bakugou take turns using. You have been surviving on iced coffee and iced lemonades. You feel like you’re slowly dying.

“You know, this is the only time I really wish my boss would call me in early. He might be a ghost, but he sure uses money for the AC” you blabber while staring at the ceiling, contemplating booking a trip to Alaska.

“What do you mean a ghost?” the blond asks. He’s been much more talkative in the last few months, maybe because seeing you being so domestic was doing something to him. In the last few days he really wants to be your friend, but not because he’s suddenly nice: he thinks he could bribe you to gift him the fan if he’s kinder and breaks your defenses. He’s even planning on asking you to go to a cafe nearby and offer you one of those sweet fuzzy iced drinks you like so much. He’s scheming.

“A ghost because I’ve never seen his face. Can you believe that? My colleague says he’s an asshole though, so maybe that’s for the better” you answer. You get on your elbows to see him better, then squint and frown, “I feel like you could be my boss, you know. Seeing as you’re an asshole too, making me die here on the floor like a common drug addict”.

Yeah, screw the fan. He was asking you out to kill you.

“I hope he fires you”.

“Fuck you”.

“Likewise”.

You throw yourself back on the floor. The movement makes your boobs giggle, and he catches himself staring at your white tank top. You didn’t wear a bra since it’s indeed still your house and it’s indeed still hot as hell.

Things have been going so much better between you two. You now bicker like you’re siblings, but you do also take walks together sometimes, mainly to get groceries, and talk about stuff. You even convinced him to watch Keeping up with the Kardashians with you, and even if he doesn’t want to admit it, he likes the drama more than you.

At work you have a new manager and she’s super nice. Her name is Mina, and you found out that she and Kirishima are engaged, even if they’re 22 like you. She’s a great worker, and you’ve gone out for drinks a couple of times with her and Momo. She’s been at the cafe for 2 months, but you feel so much better already. She throws you weird looks sometimes, like she knows something you don’t, but you pay it no mind.

The timer on your phone rings, and you jump up before throwing your whole body on Katsuki’s. He’s distracted and you get him off guard, managing to move him away. He notices your tits touching his arm.

“Hah! My turn!” you say triumphantly, positioning yourself in front of the fan. The cold air makes your nipples harden. He seems to not be able to look away.

“Awh, Katsuki, cat got your tongue? Don’t worry, baby, the floor is not that bad” you snicker.

He snaps out of his trance and looks at your smirk. Baby? Did you just call him baby?

Fuck, what is he doing? The heat is getting to him. He hastily turns around and starts walking.

“Fuck off, I’m getting in the shower. You can have your fucking fan until I get out” he grunts while almost running away. He needs to have a cold shower.

“We’ll see!” you smile devilishly at him, not having noticed how he’s furiously blushing while slamming the bathroom door.

Katsuki puts his back on the door and slides to the floor. He rubs his face before staring at the obvious tent his semi is causing in his shorts.

Have you always been so hot?

He gets out of his clothes and jumps in the shower, hoping this feeling will go away once the scorching temperature of his skin gets back to normal. But after a few minutes the icy water does nothing to quell his desire, his fully standing cock a statement to that.

He curses under his breath, then wraps one of his hands on his shaft. He feels so dirty doing this, and the fact you’re one door away makes him feel even more embarrassed.

“Let’s get this fucking over with, fuck” he says to himself, pumping his member slowly.

He imagines the way your hand would feel instead of his, or your big eyes staring up at him like you did before, just that in this case you were forcing yourself not to cry while choking on his cock. His hand would be in your hair instead of on his dick, pushing your mouth snugly against his pubes. Your mouth would be hotter than the sun outside and he'd give you a reason to sweat. If you pleaded hard enough he'd fuck you too. He’d really throw you on the sofa, ripping your damn white top and sucking on your nipples. Fuck, what if you pierced them? Your tits would look so good covered in his-

He cums, grunting. "Fuck, this is the most embarrassing shit I've ever had to do to cum" he adds, whispering to himself.

He makes sure to scrub the shower wall clean before putting on the pair of grey short sweatpants he was wearing before. He decides on not to put his black compression tee on, since it’s drenched in sweat.

He exits the bathroom and finds you lying on the couch with the fan blowing directly on your face. Your eyes are closed, and the peaceful expression you're wearing makes his dick throb again.

"Oi, wanna go out? We're short on ice" he finds himself saying.

You open one eye, but when you realize he's half naked you hastily close it and throw him the pillow you were resting your head on.

"When has this become a whore house?" you scream.

He rolls his eyes. "You're such a prude. It's not like you've never seen a man naked" he scoffs, while throwing the pillow back at you.

You open your eyes again and glare at him. You know you must be as red as a tomato.

He looks so good with his hair still dripping wet. You've known that he works out, but now that you see his torso this close and with so little covering his whole body, you find yourself feeling shy. There's a particular drop of water that cascades just in the middle of his pecs, and you follow it with your eyes until it reaches his belly button.

"Earth to y/n. I know I'm hot, but stop ogling and answer my fucking question" your roommate says smirking, snapping his fingers in front of your face.

You throw the same pillow you threw before right on his smiling face. "I'm coming if you're not gonna be naked!" you say, hastily going towards your room.

"But wouldn't you like it, baby?" he mocks the tone you've used with him just 30 minutes ago.

"Fuck you. I'll be there in 10" you respond, slamming your bedroom door, feeling hot and bothered.

It must be the summer.

You and Katsuki go to a store nearby to get ice.

“When is the landlord gonna repair the AC?” you ask, since he was the one to make the call.

“He said he’ll come next week, probably even the next one. Said he’s on vacay or some shit” he grunts from next to you.

“I can’t survive 2 weeks like this” you whine. “Oh, you know those noodles you did the other day? The spicy ones? Want to make them for dinner today?” you change the topic, looking up at him.

He spares you a glance before smirking and saying “you just said you’re dying, you sure you wanna eat spicy things?”.

“It doesn’t matter, that’s not the question” you say, pouting.

He smirks again. “Sure. Go and take the noodles, I’ll get the vegetables. Call me when you’re finished if you can’t come back here, I know you get lost like a dumbass”.

You slap his arm. “I do not! This place is just big, asshole”. Then you turn around and march straight towards… the wrong aisle. Katsuki shakes his head. You’ll find a way. You always do, somehow.

After 10 minutes you’re still not back and you still haven’t called, so he sighs and gets his phone out.

He missed your texts from 3 minutes ago.

Y/N: Help

Y/N: I feel like a guy is following me

Y/N: I’m next to some spicy sauces, I guess

Y/N: Mom come pick me up, I’m scared

He raises an eyebrow. You’re usually too prideful to text him when you don’t find the ingredients he tells you to search for, so this situation is weird. He tries to remember where the spicy sauces are, and goes for that aisle.

Meanwhile, you were right and a creepy guy was indeed following you. He’s slim, not that tall and looks like a predator. For the past couple of minutes he’s obviously been trying to get in your pants, and you don’t know how to remove yourself from the situation.

“Come on, just give me your number. You got a boyfriend? Is this why you’re being so… spicy?” he says with a low tone of voice, walking towards you and effectively blocking you from the eyes of the people who are walking down your aisle. From outside, he just seems like he’s talking to you.

“I said I’m not interested” you repeat for what feels like the 10th time. Then you decide to lie: “and yes, I do have a boyfriend. He gets crazy when he’s jealous, I wouldn’t want to anger him if I were you”. You hope you sound confident enough.

“Awh he doesn’t have to now, baby girl. It can be our dirty little secret… I love spicy little things like you” he says seductively, touching your arm and licking his lips.

You’re just about to raise your elbow high enough to break his nose when you feel a familiar voice behind you.

“Step the fuck back before I break your fucking hand” Katsuki says to the man in front of you.

You snap your gaze to his eyes, but he’s looking at the guy with a murderous intent.

The slimy guy in front of you doesn’t let go, in fact he just strengthens the hold he has on your arm and you wince. Katsuki notices this.

The guy is definitely intimidated, but still manages to say “mind your business bro, we’re together, this is my bitch-“. But before he can finish the sentence he finds himself crashing on the sauces of the aisle.

“I said step the fuck back. I don’t like to repeat myself. Don’t ever call my girlfriend your bitch again, or next time I’m breaking your damn nose“ your roommate says while putting a hand on your small back.

He then looks down at you, and while he’s looking deep into your eyes, tells you “you good, baby?”.

You nod. You feel your knees shaking, but not because of the guy who’s currently on the floor.

Which, by the way, is now scoffing and declaring “oh so this is your crazy boyfriend? Nobody likes good guys anymore, huh”. He then stands up, adding “you were never pretty enough for me, anyway”.

Katsuki looks at him and suddenly he laughs. “You’re a pathetic ass bitch if you really believe someone like you could ever be near someone like her. You’re not a good guy, you’re an awful piece of shit who only tries to get his dick wet by forcing girls to have sex with him, and you’re obviously failing at that too. Go back to your room and rub one out on some shitty porn like you always do, fucker” he spits out. “You have 5 seconds to get out of my fucking face”.

The asshole thinks he’s joking, so he doesn’t move from his spot, but Katsuki is obviously not playing. He looks super scary, and he’s towering over the pathetic boy.

Katsuki is losing his patience. “5, 4, 3…”.

The guy gets that he’s serious and flees the scene, running with his tail between his legs.

Your roommate takes a big breath before mumbling “I hate people”. You snicker, before looking up at him. “Thank you, you know” you say smiling.

Your gratefulness blinds him, or maybe it’s just that you’re that pretty.

“You’re welcome”.

He doesn’t remove his hand from your back for the rest of your walk, and it feels so natural to be so close to him that you don’t say anything.

A/N: If you want to be put in the taglist make sure your age is visible on your blog first, and then tell me so in the comments <3

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Angst with a happy ending, older Eddie, reader acting like a brat. Arguments then fluff. 18+, mdni.

🎀✨💞

Sex. Just sex. That's all you were to Eddie. Knowing it and accepting it was hard for you. So much so that you were in one hell of a mood.

And acting like a major brat. At first Eddie took it in his stride, maybe you were getting sick or you didn't sleep that good.

He usually had endless patience when it came to you. You had him wrapped around your little finger yet you didn't even know it. Not that Eddie would admit it but it was true.

Despite that your attitude was beginning to grate on him and he had enough.

Eddie loses patience. "What the fuck is wrong with you today? why are you so bitchy?" He's put up with your sullenness and attitude all day and he's tired of it.

"I'm fine" you snap, there's no way you could tell him what was really wrong. That you were completely in love with him and he only saw you as a fuck buddy.

Then that would be the end of your relationship and you didn't want it to end. You had grown attached to Eddie so quickly, you'd be heartbroken if your relationship ended.

"Obviously you're not fine if you've been in a mood all day. What the hell is wrong? Clearly I spoil you too fucking much because you're acting like a spoiled brat" tears pool in your eyes and you will them away.

"So now I'm just an annoyance to you?" You question him and he shakes his head, throwing his arms up in the air.

"I give up. You're twisting my words" you look away feeling your heart sink at his words. Maybe you should just tell him? Rip off the band aid or so to speak.

Unfortunately your mouth runs away with you before you can think about it. "You're the one who called me a brat" he rolls his eyes, folds his arms across his chest and gives you a dark look.

"Because you are! From the moment you woke up to now, all I've had is you bitching in my ear even when I asked you what is wrong, you don't answer"

Anxiety claws in your veins and you don't know what to say to salvage the situation. You shouldn't have been so moody, you know that but the argument had pretty much spiralled out of control.

"Well why don't I just leave then if I'm annoying you so much?" you snap and gather your clothes. He shrugs and his body language turns cold, colder then you've ever seen.

"Maybe you should" the tears flow freely at his tone and you kick yourself as you rush downstairs. You may have just ruined everything.

You were so scared that admitting your feelings to Eddie would mean you would lose him, and it was killing you keeping your feelings a secret.

Turns out that maybe you had just lost him anyway.

...

After the argument with Eddie you feel even worse and plan to cuddle in bed and shut off from the world just for a little bit.

Eddie had other plans. It isn't long before he's at your house, quietly letting himself in and making his way upstairs. He hated seeing you cry, it was like a punch to the gut and he was anxious to make it up to you.

He was also very keen to get to the root of the problem and why you were acting out so much today. Something was bothering you for you to act this way. He wanted to find out what it was.

Your quiet sobs reach him and it tears at his heart as he enters your room and finds you curled up on the bed. Hiding away.

Tenderly Eddie stokes your hair and you turn to face him. He wipes your tears away and sighs.

"You didn't have to come over so late. I know you're working early tomorrow" you murmur and he softens as he lays beside you.

"I'm my own boss. I make my own start time sweetheart. I had to see you. Couldn't sleep without my princess beside me could I?" He settles beside you and you smile.

"I'm sorry, I was bitchy. I didn't mean to be" he kisses your hair and nods accepting the apology.

"I'm sorry, princess. I shouldn't have yelled at you or called you a brat. Please tell me what's wrong? You're obviously anxious about something" you bite your lip and he waits for you to say.

"I'm scared" you whisper to him and he feels heartbroken at this. He never wants you to feel scared or that you can't talk to him, you can talk to him about anything.

"Princess, you can tell me anything. You never have to be scared of telling me anything" he holds you close and feels you relax. You still hide your face in his shoulder as you work up the courage to talk to him.

"I'm in love with you, I know you don't feel the same way but I just wanted you to know. It's killing me not saying anything"

Eddie is stunned. This is what got you so worked up, that you were in love with him? Did you think he'd reject you?

Jesus h Christ, did you not realise that he was so in love with you too? He'd never felt this way about anyone. It scared him how deep his feelings were but he has been planning to tell you for ages.

He just wanted it to be the right time and be romantic. Turns out he had waited too long and you were thinking he didn't love you.

That wouldn't do at all.

"I'm so in love with you. How can you not see that?" Eddie caresses your cheek and you feel all of your fears slip away. You snuggle into him and peer up with pure joy on your face.

"I love you too Eddie"

All of this angst and shit could have been avoided if you had both just spoken up sooner. Both of you make a vow that night to always communicate your feelings.

But first a lot of making up was required ;)

[3lyvshiro]

𐙚 ⋆₊˚ 4:44..ᐟ

suna rintaro and yn ln were perfect for eachother.

It wasnt unusual for people to find suna cold and intimidating. understandably, i mean it wasnt exactly like he was rubbing elbows with everyone.. and his height at the ripe age of 17 did nothing to help.

thats why it didnt surprise suna when atsumu told him of the girls that approached him earlier that day, first years, he mentioned, shyly blushing and asking him if suna-senpai was single.

Atsumu groaned as he retold the story to Suna, muttering about how he had to shut them down for him. He didnt know if they were just unaware, or didnt get the memo, but No, Suna is not single. Suna is very much taken. everyone knows suna was taken. Atsumu grimaced.

He didnt need to wonder why these juniors couldnt just approach him themselves, because he already knew why. anyone who observes suna rintaro can easily tell he was unemotional and standoffish.

Suna is an objectively unnapproachable guy.

That, paired with his girlfriend who was, if possible, a hundred times colder than he was. she's the literal ice queen of inarizaki.

Atsumu thought back to every time he's interacted wih her. It wasnt like she was completely a bitch or something, of course not. But even if she was, he'd rather chop his tongue off than say that to her face. And it wasnt like she was uptight or couldnt joke around or something like that. yn was actually pretty fun. he deduced that from when suna brought her with him on a hangout with the boys, only for him to ditch them to go on a date with her.

from their minimal interactions, atsumu will admit, yn is fun. she's joked around eith him before, and he's seen her playfully poke fun at others. she's just generally intimidating and unnapproachable.

thats why It was easy to assume that the relationship between suna and yn would be bland and lack romance and emotions or whatever.

Many people think that they either treat eachother horribly, or that theyre in a fake relationship. Seeing two of the most standoffish people together, romantically, was bound to raise some eyebrows.

atsumu forgets that not everyone knows the exact story of how suna and yn came to be. People who arent close with suna wouldnt know.

they wouldnt know of how shy and borderline lame suna was, back when he was still crushing on yn.

they wouldnt know of the ratio from suna before yn to suna after yn. he noticably got happier, to the point it was literally so hard not to notice.

they wouldnt know of the massive crush suna had on her. it was the fattest crush ever, and god, they wouldnt even suspect that he was the one between them who texted first, who approached the other first, who made the first move. the guy moved mountains just to get closer to her.

suna rintaro was so ridiculously down bad.

thats why, atsumu was sure. no one knows shit about suna and yn. they can say what they want about the relationship being bland or lacking passion, but only the people most close to suna would know.

only they'd know of how hard he fell for yn.

only they'd know of how passionate suna is for yn.

only they'd know how serious suna is about her.

only theyd be able to see the look he gets in his eyes whenever his eyes are on her.

only they see that- that smile he gets on his face whenever he gets to be with her.

yeeep. atsumu is sure.

suna rintaro is not standoffish. not when he looks at his girl with so many emotions its disgusting. not when all the walls around him crumble down at the sight of his girl. suna may be distant to other people, but its completely different when its her.

the same thing goes for yn too. its not true that shes unemotional because how could she, when she looks at suna like he hung up the stars for her. how could she, when her face absolutely lights up every time she gets to be with her boyfriend?

yn ln is not unapproachable. how could she be, when she managed to get suna rintaro to make the first move on her, to text her first, to take the lead in their relationship?

suna and yn are a match made in heaven.

hey peanuts 💓back w my suna x cold!reader agenda@#?#? omg the gap between this post and my last post

and if u enjoyed, pls dont forget to reblog! comments, feedback and reblogs are always so so so appreciated!!!🤍🤍🤍

[gallaghersgal]

MIND OVER MATTER, lip gallagher

chapter two of BORDERLINE. lip x bsf!reader (nickname: MK)

TAGS & WARNINGS → general shameless themes, smoking, swearing, karen's here and she's a bitch, lots of best friend moments <333

CHAPTER SUMMARY → the days get colder and lip remains stubborn. it's mostly due to his on again off again relationship with karen jackson, the girl who says she's pregnant with his baby. and, conveniently, the girl that hates your guts.

A/N → thank you so much for waiting on this one!!! took me a while to update because i just want every little detail to be perfect 🥹

WC → 1.7k

As autumn gave way to the icy cold of winter you found yourself staring out the window of your seventh period classroom. An old pair of wired earbuds connects both you and Lip to your school issued laptop, which the two of you were using to form your monthly shared playlist. It was a tradition you had started yourself at the beginning of this year, but Lip had wormed his way in as he seemed to do with everything else in your life, insisting he be allowed to add songs since he had to ride along with you everywhere. You’d told him it came with his lack of license, and he’d pestered you until you allowed him ten songs per playlist. 

Lip’s elbow digs into your ribs and pulls your focus away from the flurries starting to fall outside the window. “Skip this shit,” he mumbles, referencing the Taylor Swift song that just started.

You roll your eyes but skip it regardless, it didn’t fit in with your november lineup. Satisfied with the song that follows, you navigate away from the playlist, opening up your email. “I signed us up for a tour at UChi,” you say casually, eyes flicking over to gauge his reaction. He rolls his eyes and ignores you entirely, clearly annoyed with your choice. So this is still an uphill battle. Got it. “If you won’t go for yourself, at least come along for me? That way ‘m not alone.”

You watch Lip as he considers it, finally nodding his head after a moment of silence. The dismissal bell rings and your teacher gives some spiel about homework but neither of you care to listen. Like a well oiled system you return each other’s borrowed things–your pretty pack of highlighters Lip liked to use for annotation, the pencil he miraculously had when you forgot your own, the laptop which belongs to you and earbuds that belong to him–packing them up and practically racing each other out the door. You stumble through the back row as Lip dashes in front of you, pulling out a chair to leave in your path. It’s easy to laugh, easy to forget how much you’re having to push him to take his future seriously. 

By the time you catch up to him in the hall, there’s a little blonde nuisance at his side. She kisses him obnoxiously, which you think is a little much for the fact they aren’t even official. You’d never say it aloud but you’re not convinced her baby even belongs to him. Her school slut reputation hadn’t come from being a prude after all.  But of course you’re willing to play the part, to be the supportive best friend, because you knew the alternative; being painted as a jealous whore, for the simple act of looking out for your friend. Safe to say, Karen Jackson makes you seethe with rage. 

She doesn’t even offer a greeting, just looks you up and down with a disgusted glare. Lip says she doesn’t talk about you behind your back, but you think he’s just trying to save your feelings. You understand it can be hard to keep the peace between two girls who are equally important to him. Though, you wish he’d wake up from his lust induced haze to see she’s just using him. As always you play the part you’re meant to play. The best friend, ever supportive, standing quietly to the side as they have their moment. A moment that makes you sick to your stomach, but is theirs nonetheless. Not your place to intervene. 

You decide to wait in your car instead of dwelling on it.

Hours pass idly by before you’re in the Gallagher house for the night, too cold and tired to walk the twenty or so steps across the street to your own home. It wasn’t your fault Ian rolled a joint and passed it up when you were already dozing off in Lip’s bed.

When you stub out the joint, Lip tosses a pillow down to the foot of the bed. You can’t help but find it odd, the way you sleep head to foot to keep air between you as if you haven’t shared each other’s space for as long as you can remember. Lip was always wherever you were, and the same went for you. Inseparable for as long as you could remember. But then there came this… tension. The awkward energy] that came with growing up, getting crushes, going on dates. Suddenly it wasn’t normal to curl into your best friend’s side. Instead, he slept on an air mattress when he visited your house, and you occupied opposite ends of the bed at his. 

You’re not sure when the change came about. You find that you hate it. 

With nightfall comes snowfall, and when you wake from an uncomfortable strain in your back you see the soft, white flakes falling outside the window. You sit up, accidentally bumping your head in your excitement. The thud along with the pained groan from your chest wake Lip up, blue eyes blinking blearily up at you in the dim glow of the streetlight. 

“Fuck’re you doin’ MK?” he grumbles, swatting away your hand when it gently shakes his hip. “Go back t’sleep.”

“Look, ‘s snowing,” you murmur, awe painted in your tone as you lean down to turn his head towards the window. 

His next words are muffled by the pillow he shoves over his face, attempting to hide from you and your antics. “We live ‘n fuckin’ Chicago, it snows here. Not like its a miracle.”

“Come outside with me?” you ask simply. The pillow is pulled away from his face and Lip gives you a puzzled look, which you fight with a drawn out whisper of “pleeeeaseeee?”

Lip has never been able to say no to your pleading. Tonight is no exception. Within ten minutes the two of you are outside in your pajamas, fingers clad in fuzzy gloves and feet nestled into too-big snow boots. The snowfall is already slowing when Lip pulls one of his gloves off, struggling to light a cigarette against the icy wind. Without a word you step closer and shelter the light with your body until it catches the end of the cig. When he exhales you mimic the motion with frosted breath. 

Lip is still laughing at your antics when you grab his bicep, tugging his body to the ground with you. “Wha- what the fuck!?”

“Snow angels,” you reply simply, “come on, have a little whimsy, some childlike wonder.” The snow is cold against your back but you begin to move your arms and legs regardless. You tilt your head and are pleasantly surprised to see a boyish grin formed around the cig tucked neatly between his lips. He mimics your motion, arms and legs pushing snow aside until his elbows are brushing grass. 

He offers you the last drag or two from his cig, propping himself up with his elbows dug into the compressed snow where his back had been. “Y’know, I don’t think I’ve made a snow angel since I was–shit–like, five or six?” He hauls himself up and uses his teeth to remove the remaining glove, his hands dipping down into the snow.

“Don’t you dare,” you warn him, your teeth baring with a nervous smile as he steps closer, “Lip! Don’t you fucking-” it’s too late, there’s snow down the back of your crew neck sweatshirt. You shriek, jumping to your feet and packing a snowball of your own for revenge. It’s easy to laugh with him. To forget the troubles that plague your young hearts, subjects far too mature which were introduced at far too young of an age.

You end your little snow escapade on the steps. Lip brushes the gathering snow off the wood to give the two of you room to share a seat and a cigarette. The smoke warms your body and the comfortable silence warms your soul. You watch as he rubs his hands together, lifting them up to feel the little heat provided by the tendrils of smoke. 

When he passes it to you, you take a drag and exhale through your nose, taking both of his hands in your own. You want to scold him lightly, it’s not smart to go without gloves in the snow, but with two hands occupied you can’t exactly hold the cig anywhere other than your mouth. So you stay quiet, and so does he.

Minutes pass in familiar silence. You write your name in the snow at your feet, digging out the letters with the heel of your boot. Lip does the same with the cigarette butt when it’s finished, and you complain how unfair it is that his writing looks much neater compared to yours. He smooths out the snow over your name, rewriting ‘MK’ in the space. 

As you head inside you become aware of how wet your clothes are, the snow melting in the slightly warmer temperatures, though you notice it’s not much. Lip lends you some clothes of his and politely turns his back while you change. Not that you would’ve cared much, anyway. 

“Fuckin’ freezin’ in here Lip,” you mumble, shivering in your hoodie and borrowed boxers as you climb the ladder after him. 

He laughs in response, reaching out to tug you into the softness of his chest. “C’mere, snow miser,” he grumbles, referencing a childhood favorite movie the two of you would watch every Christmas. A smile graces your lips as you settle against his chest, his warmth more familiar than anything you’ve ever known.

Lip tells you quietly about how Frank blew his most recent disability check, leaving Fiona scrambling for the small but important number he often contributed to the heat bill. He rambles on about how each of his siblings were dealing with the cold–something about Carl convincing Debbie her frosted breath was a magical power–and you feel yourself drifting off to the gentle sound of his voice.

In the morning the sun peeks through the worn curtains of the boys’ room. Gentle rays attempt to tug you from the comfortable embrace, but your unconscious mind only snuggles further into Lip’s chest. Carl is the first to take notice of this, snickering and elbowing a distracted Ian in the ribs as he pulls on warmer clothes. The older boy eyes the two of you and grabs Lip’s phone from his desk to snap a quick picture before ushering his younger brother out of the room. 

And when Fiona heads out to head to work, there are still two names written in the snow. With careful footing, she allows them to stay.

THX 4 READING → dedicated to my lovely @notsonian. beta'd by @tinyphantomsalad.