#fo// pepper

[a-mallowbuddy]

TO ANY F/Os AVAILABLE, What was your first "date"/hangout like with Lily??

[Disclaimer: none of these are romantic f/o's]

N: heheh, our first hangout as friends was us meeting at the second prom I've ever been to! Like, we got to know each other when the prom was close to ending ironically. I always saw her in class but she liked her personal space.

But our first hangout when we became mallowbuddies? This was really strange but um, I brought her to the corpse spire. Not to hang out at it! O-or even look at it, I meant we went to that general area. And I just decided to share that old home of mine to her. And help me move my old items to my new room.

It's really strange saying it out loud, but I mean. We knew each other for a while, that place was a home for me for a long time, even if it was a.... bad time in my life... I thought she could... learn about my personal life more...?

He turned to the other f/o's

heh sorry for rambling again, I just... I think I've known a Lilly Sona the longest and had a lot to say... I don't even know why I talked about our first meeting ever..

Blazer: Eh we don't mind that much. Well for us? Our first "date" was a walk in the outside area? We always visited it as friends when the doors opened up, but we never explored that far. So we gave it a try. It was really pretty... We found a Lotus Flower and I gave it to her since... her name is Lotus in my world

Yellow Bomberman: We went shopping for a shared Ballom!

Black Bomberman: ugh it took forever because all three of us have different favorite sub-species of Balloms and also me and Yellow already had one with the family to watch.

Yellow: hehheh but come on we found the perfect little ballom, didn't we big bro?

Black nodded as he held up a Ballom that looked like a butterfly

Spud: spud and f-fire-worm lily, had a c-camping trip. lil's resting s-state k-keeps spud feeling warm. Spud, Spud read her stories before slee-sleeping. spud spud. the campsite felt s-safe again..

Pepper the Bear: Training!

Fancily swings his pepper colored sword around

...with a nice break to eat the food she made.

[periidoti]

How would pepper feel finding out her only meaningful relationship is fake (as in the sense they were generated to be that way)

All of it. It was never real. Think about it like her.

Salt is her only friend. Her BCFF. She has nobody else really. She doesn't have Trophy. She doesn't have OK. Nobody. Just Salt. But now it's not even real. They weren't friends before. They didn't meet and link up. They were created to be this way

They were only friends because they were created that way. They didn't build anything.

Simply created to be friends.

This actually hurts me to think about. Just imagine finding out your only friendship wasn't even real. Salt would care less as a character. It would hurt her a little less I think, probably overridden by shock and grief from OJ dying.

Sighs. Screams

[pudgybun]

What are ur top 3 favorite soups of all time GO!!

[namorssideburns]

Tales of Suspense (1959) #50, February 1964

[statcat-selfships]

No, but you see, I love Tony's Iron Man suits because I love Tony and Tony is Iron Man is Tony

[vxsellie]

⋆⁺₊❅.┆WARMTH - E.W

summary. you'd have to be a fool not to notice the cloud of stress that embodies your girlfriend whenever she returns from patrol. in an attempt to salvage the singular ounce of patience she's been desperately hanging onto for the past few weeks, you've yet to address it. but when she's assigned to go on patrol on christmas eve — which she'd been looking forward to spending in your company in hopes of being able to decorate your shared home prior to christmas — that seems to snap the thread. in her absence, you do all you can to alleviate a bit of the tension in her shoulder before her return. notes. the one, the only, jackson!ellie (cue everyone cheering bc ik i am). i've been dying to write something that aligns a bit more naturally with canon bc everything i have on his acc is an au. i love my stories, don't get me wrong, but i can't lie and day i'm happy with that fact. anyway! here she is!! merry chistmas to all who celebrate it, i love u guys <33333 wc. 1.6k

the moment the words left maria's mouth, ellie was already planning how to strangle the woman despite it not having been her fault. she's been on patrol day after day, making it nigh impossible for her to catch a fucking break.

it's her first christmas with you, the two of you having started dating in early march. she was so excited to spend the holiday with you, drinking cocoa by the fire and decorating the tree you'd picked out together. she had woke this morning with the widest smile in knowing it was christmas eve, waking you by peppering kisses across your face until you started giggling. the stark contrast between then and now is almost dizzying.

she'd been so happy in your company, nestled within the plaid covers on the bed. you skin radiated a gentle heat that she found herself clinging to. but then she was assigned this expedition and all the contentment instantly drained from her body as she dreaded sharing the news. but you weren't mad. you just gave a sad smile, an even sadder kiss, then told her to be safe. your lack of irritation almost made the entire thing more tragic.

it's been weeks since the two of you have been able to spend an entire day without interruption. something always arises — whether that be her abundance of patrols, your own mass of them, or one of you being called to speak with someone or work a shift at one of the shops. hence her excitement for christmas eve.

she's currently trudging through the snow with a deep scowl on her face. her boots crunch with each step, the sound only aggravating her. there's a low hum of civilization as she walks through the streets of jackson toward home. a few people attempt to speak with her, only to be dismissed rather harshly as she continues her march through the snow.

the weather is unbearable, a biting cold that makes her bones rattle. on top of that, the moon is high in the sky. meaning she was gone all day as she'd left at dawn.

she reaches your shared home, stomping up the steps of the porch before fumbling with the key. the metal feels like icy against her already frozen fingers as she struggles with it. she's about to give up and sleep on the porch when the door creaks open and your head pokes out. instantly, you beam at her. she gives a weak smile in return despite her personal distaste for the whole of today.

you reach for your coat, step into your slippers and join her on the porch. she's a bit confused by this, but says nothing. you're wearing a pair of festive pajama pants. they're adorable, though she knows they likely do nothing for the cold. you're shivering as you pull the jacket tight around your shoulders.

"what're you doing out here?" she asks, having to put an effort to keep her irritation out of her voice. after all, it's not you she's mad at. it's the situation. you're honestly the best thing that's happened to her today, providing her with warmth this morning as well as a kind smile right now in spite of her harsh tone.

"i have a surprise for you." you say through chattering teeth, which are upturned into a bright smile. "close your eyes before you go inside."

"babe, we agreed no presents until tomorrow." she huffs.

you shoot her a look and she instantly quiets, knowing what you're wordlessly conveying — a reminder to keep her attitude in check when you're done naught wrong. she obliges, offering an apologetic frown before placing her hands over her eyes. her frozen fingertips freeze the skin of her face and she shivers. but when she feels your hand wrap around her bicep and begin guiding her inside, warmth spreads across her at the feel of your comforting familiarity.

she steps inside and is assaulted by the scent of chocolate and pine. the scent of christmas. she's yearning to remove her hands, but withholds from doing so. for your sake. god, you're lucky she loves you so much or she'd not be doing this when her mood is so shitty.

she hears the door shut behind her, your footsteps moving about the living room as she continues to stand in place by the door. your now bare feet pad across the wooden flooring, her sense of smell and hearing heightened in the absence of her sight. the domesticity of your body moving around your shared home is almost overwhelmingly intimate. she knows the sound of your feet, hearing them all day every day. well, not so much recently. she hadn't noticed how much she missed such tiny details of you. like your footsteps — which are suddenly approaching her.

she expects your voice to come first, the order to remove her hands from her eyes. but instead, another sense is brought to her attention as she feels the gentle press of your lips against hers. it feels like the first time she'd ever kissed you. the way it shocks her, then comforts her, then an array of sparks and nerves trace through her body. she desperately wishes she could pull you closer, but her hands are currently unable to be used.

"okay." you breathe after pulling away, voice laced with childlike excitement. "you can open them."

she doesn't hesitate to do so, removing her hands from her eyes. the first thing she notices is you standing a mere two inches from her. everything else dulls in the wake of your brilliance. your festive pajama pants hanging from your hips, your coat still lazily draped over your shoulders, your hair clearly not having been brushed all day as it's frayed on the ends. she finds herself staring at you adoringly, her pupils blown in a sense of fondness.

you giggle, "stop looking at me, look at the house!" begrudgingly, she does. and, needless to say, she's not disappointed.

your guys' house is in the structure of a cabin, the walls and floors made of wood. it's small and open, allowing her to see the entire interior from where she stands. the christmas tree you two had chosen a few weeks ago is now adorned with yellow lights, casting a warm lighting across the space. a few presents sit beneath it, wrapped neatly with ellie's name scribbled onto the tags. the mantle above the fireplace is covered in cute decorations as well, snow globes and little glass deer sitting idly atop the wood. the kitchen is decorated as well, a ceramic santa sitting on the counter atop a plaid table runner. next to him sits two mugs, steam pooling over the edges of them — one red, one green. the perviously cold, empty house is now made into a cozy home.

you two haven't yet been dating for a year and you've already moved in together (lesbians smh), so the house has been rather empty. you've put in all the furniture with help from joel and jesse and tommy, but it's been missing something. the touch of love. the touch of you.

"do you like it?" you ask, nerves evident in your tone. she turns to notice you're wringing your hands, fiddling with your fingers in anticipation for her reply. you instantly rush out an explanation. "i know i probably should have waited for you because i know how excited you were to decorate, but i knew how stressed you've been and wanted to get something out of the way. so you wouldn't have to worry about it. i left a few things still empty, like your boxes are still in the bedroom and a few walls are blank because i don't know what you want hung there. also, i was struggling with the bathroom, so—"

she interrupted you by grabbing your face, cradling your warm cheeks in her frozen fingers. she smiles at you softly, "i love it."

a wide smile breaks across your face and you lean to kiss her. she kisses you back, now able to hold you as she wants. she pulls your body against hers, but you suddenly yank backward. she blinks a few times, worried she'd hurt you somehow.

"you're freezing." you state before raking your eyes up her body. "your jacket is still covered in snow and so are your shoes. els, go change before you get a cold."

she frowns but obliges. you're right, her jacket — which she'd, admittedly, stolen from joel a few weeks prior — is coated with snow and rain and whatever else she got into while killing infected all day. her converse are also wet, the snow having melted and seeped into her socks.

she goes into the bedroom, instantly smiling when she sees how you'd decorated it. the pillows are changed into red and green silk covers and there's a knitted rug on the floor. there's a candle on each nightstand, the scent of cinnamon and clove filling the air. through the window's newly installed crimson curtains, snow falls to the ground in gentle flurries. if you ask ellie, snow is much more enjoyable from afar.

she notices that your dresser is now full rather than having your entire wardrobe shoved into boxes. hers isn't though, as you hadn't known how she'd like her drawers organized. that's fine, though. she digs through the clothing for a comfy outfit and changes into it, now wearing a white linen shirt and a pair of dark grey shorts.

she exits the room to see you sitting at the counter with the red mug between your hands. you're blowing on the hot cocoa, your hair still messy. she joins you, sitting on the wooden stool to your left and grabbing the green one. you see her and smile, pressing a kiss to her cheek before you rest your head on her shoulder.

in this moment, under the warm glow of yellow christmas lights, amid the scent of your candles and chocolate and pine, and most of all being near you, she couldn't imagine ever being happier.

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 perm. taglist @luvsturniolo @kasqnxx @xlovla @ilovewomenfr @zzombiegirl @shawangel @defnoteleonor @fatbootymuncher

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 fic taglist @kirammanss @serraphinm @dyk3miffy @vahnilla @mikellie @natgf123 @olkrai @ellieslittleslutt @gingerrgen @millersfinest @aliceellieswife @tthoroughfare

[leclerc-hs]

do i wanna know? (pt.2) - cl16

pairing: brother'sbff!charles x gasly!reader summary: in which you find yourself tangled in a web of emotions with your brother's best friend OR it was never just sex between you and your brother's best friend warnings: 18+, smut under the cut!, badly translated french (prob), angst!!!!, not proofread!! word count: ~2.3k author's note: SURPRISE SHAWTY!!!!!! i am here apologizing for being MIA for so long. if this is SHIT I apologize I just have been struggling with writer's block for months and have been very stressed and busy with work!!! I really tried my best so don't be too mean to me over this lmaooo. I love u all!!! there will be more of them to come ;) also since it's been so long since I've properly written this MIGHT be a little rusty so pls forgive me

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE TRANQUIL MELODY of the waves crashing against the shore is truly a captivating sight. You sat by the water in an oversized t-shirt and bikini bottoms, absorbed in the symphony of nature. So engrossed were you in the soothing sounds, the glistening water, and the caress of the breeze, that Charles’s approach caught you off guard.

“There you are,” his voice resonated like the ocean. You sensed the warmth of his presence as he settled beside you on the sand, propped up on his hands.

Though you didn’t turn to face him, you could feel his gaze fixed on your profile.

“Do you think we’re being stupid?” You couldn’t help but ask. 

“Quoi?” What?

“I just don’t want to hurt Pierre.” You finally turned your head to look at him. “Was it a mistake?”

You didn’t think it was. But the more you sat and thought about it, the more stressed over the situation you became. 

“No.”

You smiled softly, pulling your knees up and resting your head upon them as you truly took in the sight of him. 

“I think we should do it again.”

-

The two of you fell into a pattern quickly.

“Such a dirty fucking slut,” Charles groans out loud as he looked at the sight of you on your knees before him. His cock was heavy in your hand as you slowly start to pump him. Pre-cum leaking from the tip, oozing onto your fingertips. It was a gooey mess.

You stare up at him with a smirk on your lips as you take in his flushed cheeks and his pale knuckles from clenching the countertop so tightly.

“Mmm,” You moan as you bring him to your mouth, swirling your tongue around him slowly. You suck lightly before dragging him in and out of your mouth. 

You swore you could look at him for forever and never get tired of it. You were constantly in the depths of convincing yourself it was nothing but sex. 

“So fucking beautiful.”

“Could stare at you all day, mon ange.”

But is it really?

-

You’re not sure when it changed. But it did.

The gentle warmth of the morning sun seeped through the delicate curtains, causing you to let out a soft groan as you slowly awakened. Shifting in the bed, you squint against the bright light, and eventually force yourself to emerge from the cozy embrace of sleep.

As you turn your head, your attention was instantly met by the striking view of a broad, bare, and muscular back dominating your view. Instantly, a swarm of butterflies fill your stomach.

The early sunlight cast a soft glow on his smooth, tanned skin, accentuating the sculpted contours of his muscles. His breathing was steady and calm, a comforting rhythm that contrasted with the crisp morning air. His hair, slightly messy, fell against the nape of his neck.

The gentle upward curve of your lips was almost instinctive as you reached out toward him, running your fingers through the soft wisps of hair at his neck.

He lets out a small grumble as he shifts around, his face nestled in the pillows. Then, he turns to you, his gentle smile already in place before he opened his eyes. His arm drapes over you almost instantly, tugging you into the warmth of his body and immediately peppering soft kisses to your neck.

“Je pourrais rester ici pour toujours.” Could stay right here for forever. He whispers in between the soft kisses.

You feel the blush form on your cheeks almost instantly.

“Me too,” you respond softly.

“Do you think we could?”

The longing to say yes tugged at your heart, but you resisted, knowing the potential complications it could bring. Instead, you laughed, trying to shake off the heavy thoughts about the chaos and challenges that might follow. For now, it was just the two of you. Just two regular people.

No Pierre. No burdens of the outside world.

It’s been weeks of this. Whatever this was between you. You both found yourself too greedy to give it up. The sex was too good. He was too good.

-

Strong fingers intertwine with the strands of your hair, a delicate tug at the roots sends a tingling sensation cascading across your scalp, igniting a fiery yet exquisite sensation that dances on the edge of pleasure and exhilaration. 

“Nous devons faire attention.” We need to be careful. You softly groan as your bare back becomes flush against the contours of his chest, slightly dampened with sweat. The pace of his hips doesn’t falter as he brings his lips to the shell of your ear.

“Pourquoi?” Why? You know he’s teasing you. “Want me to stay hidden, hm?” The one hand that rests against the soft skin of your hips squeezes hard, as if he needed the reminder that you were here and, in his arms, and on his cock. “Ton petit secret sale?” Your dirty little secret?

The words wouldn’t come. Every time you tried to speak, they tangled in your throat, choked by the weight of the situation. You wanted to tell Charles that you didn’t see him that way, that he meant more to you than anyone else. But your brother…his best friend, loomed too large over whatever it was you two were.

You struggled to hide your wince as Charles places a quick but harsh squeeze to your throat. 

“Not even that will shut you up, hm?” He groans in between each thrust. “Pierre is in the room next over. It’s like you want to be caught.”

“Maybe I should just call him in here, hm?” 

You felt yourself pushing back against his thrusts, meeting him in the middle at a feverish pace, needing to remove the ache between your legs.

“Let him see how big of a cock slut you really are.”

You shook your head, soft moans escaping your dampened lips as his arm slips down and presses to your clit.

“No?” He eggs you on. “You’re just my little cockslut, right?”

You nod eagerly, your head lolled back against the crevice of his shoulder and neck for support. 

“Say it.” He demands, his fingers quickening on your clit. “Tell me you’re my little cockslut while you cum all over me.”

“I’m-“ You struggle to get the words out, too caught up in the way his cock slips in and out of you, his fingers rubbing your clit, and the groans escaping past his lips into your ear.

“C’mon mon ange,” He grits. “Make a fucking mess.”

“I’m yours.”

It happened so fast, it was almost a blur as Charles hurriedly pushes you face first into the mattress, hips slamming into you at such a speed, you both went soaring over the edge of your orgasms.

A few quiet minutes passed as you both caught your breath, little laughs and smiles as both of your bodies lie in a tangled mess.

-

“The Gala is coming up,” Charles spoke. His throat burning in anticipation as he waited for you to catch onto what he was implying. He wanted you by his side. Wanted you on his arm. Wanted no one to touch you but him.

“Nous avons déjà discuté de cela.” We’ve discussed this already.

Charles could slowly feel the annoyance building in his chest as he pushed himself up off the bed, dragging his body to the bathroom to retrieve a wet cloth to clean you up. He wasn’t used to this, to say the least. And he wanted you to himself so fucking badly.

It wasn’t until after his finished cleaning you up, that he spoke again. “Combien de temps?” How long?

You sat up, slipping on whatever article of clothing was closest to you. No doubt, one of Charles’ worn t-shirts that draped to your thighs.

You tilted your head to the side just slightly, encouraging him to continue.

“How long will you avoid telling Pierre?”

-

Giving Charles the silent treatment was probably the worst thing you could’ve done to him. But you didn’t know what else to do. 

Your back was turned to him, the burn of his eyes on the nape of your neck had you on high alert. You couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t meet his gaze.

The room felt colder with each passing second, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on you both. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it impossible to speak. A part of you wanted to turn around, to meet his gaze and to find some way to fix whatever this was. But the fear of what you might see in his eyes—hurt, anger, hunger—kept you frozen in place. Well, as frozen as you could be while dancing with another man.

He was proper cute. Tan skin, chocolate eyes, scruffy hair. His name, however, slipped past your mind. You think it was Rob. Or was his name Ryan? Something with an R. You think.

It didn’t help in the slightest bit that Pierre is the entire reason you’re in this situation to begin with. He practically forced you into the arms of Rob. Or is it Ryan?

“You look beautiful tonight,” The man looked down upon you, a small grin on his face as he twirled you around the dance floor. A small blush crept up on your cheeks.

“Merci.” You thanked him. “How do you know my brother?” You needed to keep the conversation going. Anything to take your mind off the stare burning your skin from afar.

He opened his mouth to begin a response but was instantly interrupted as soon as the voice of another was by your side.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Charles began, but he was clearly anything but sorry. His voice was stoic, void of any emotion but annoyance. “I need a word with you.” And before you could put up any argument, his fingers clasped onto your wrist, dragging you away from the dance floor and out of the ballroom.

Despite your protests for him to slow down, he continued at his unrelenting pace, tagging you along without regard to your inability to keep up. Charles then ushered you, if one could call it that, into what appeared to be a cramped coat closet.

The dim lighting obscured the usual green hue of his eyes, leaving you uncertain whether it really was the poor illumination or his evident anger that caused this change.

“Are you crazy?” You half-shout, waving your arms in the air in frustration once you pull your wrist from his grip. “You just made an absolute scene in there!” 

“I made a scene?” He raises his voice in frustration. Like he can’t believe that you have an issue with his behavior when you were the one dancing with another man. “You might as well just go fuck that guy on the dance floor!” 

He knew he was talking in fits of jealousy, and he knows that it’s wrong. But he couldn’t contain it. Couldn’t help but have an outburst over this situation. You didn’t even look at him the entire night.

“It was one dance!”

“I don’t care if it’s just one. It may as well be five hundred!” He sneered while his fists clenched at his sides. “Je ne partage pas.” I don’t share.

“I can’t do this right now.” You pleaded softly.

“Do what, exactly?”

“This.” You silently begged for him not to continue questioning. To not go there.

“And what is this?” or what he really meant is ‘what are we?’.

You both fell into a silence as the weight of the question weighed down on you both. You didn’t want to reach this point. You both knew what it was, but you weren’t ready for the answer. It was supposed to be fun and just sex. Something Pierre would never need to know about.

Charles took your silence as an answer. But he refused to accept it. He made a small step towards you, his green eyes locked onto yours, to which you retreated one back.

“Please don’t come closer,” You begged with a small quiver of your lip. “I need you to stand a step away from me.” You knew the moment he was closer; you were done for. Your resolve would be over.

“I can’t.” He emphasized. “I can’t stay away. Not from you.” He was distraught. Why didn’t you understand? 

“Charles, please.” Your lip quivered just slightly as your hands fell at your sides, your fingers playing with the fabric of your dress.

“Do you think I want to be like this?” He pushed. “Do you think I want to be thinking about my best friend’s sister 24/7?” He could feel his resolve slipping the longer he stared at you. You were beautiful, one of the easiest people to talk to, and he couldn’t not love you.

It was so quick. One second you both were feet apart, the next his lips were pressed against yours as your hands grabbed onto his biceps pulling him closer to you. The feel of his muscles underneath his suit were prominent against your fingertips as you moaned softly into his mouth.

Both hands enveloped your jawline, sprawling onto your neck in a feverish rush. It was a clash of tongue and teeth, and neither of you wanted to stop.

[alltheirdamn]

DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader

*The Bet*

Summary: Joel makes you a bet during a night out. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 3k Warnings: Pre-outbreak AU, mechanic!joel, established relationship, mentions of alcohol, banter, teasing, semi-public sex, unprotected piv sex, oral (f! receiving), edging, ROUGH sex, squirting, hair pulling, choking, cum eating, facial, light spanking, light face slapping, heavy kissing, explicit language, pet names (darlin', cowboy, babydoll), brat taming (kinda?) A/N: This is just pure FILTH. Eat it up, kids, I know you love it.

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Friday nights always meant date night with Joel. With Tommy babysitting Sarah and the work day done for you both, he insisted on taking you to his favorite bar on the outskirts of town. You were looking forward to a night alone, especially when you had a surprise up your sleeve. Earlier in the week, you came across a boutique in downtown Austin that sold very…niche t-shirts…and couldn’t help buying one. Putting the finishing touches on your makeup, you stepped back and admired your outfit. You had on the tiniest pair of cut-off denim shorts hugging your ass, a pair of worn black cowboy boots, and a fitted tank top with Cowboy Pillows written across your chest. It was perfect, and you knew it would drive Joel crazy. 

Joel stopped dead in his tracks when you came waltzing out of the house and toward his truck; the hand holding open the passenger door tightened until his knuckles turned white. 

Staring you down with a fire lit behind his big puppy dog eyes, Joel shook his head in protest.

“Absolutely the fuck not, babydoll,” he swore. “Take that pretty ass back inside and change.”

You stood before the truck with your arms crossed and the biggest pout forming on your lips. 

“Did you even read my shirt, cowboy?” You asked, moving your arms to reveal the words stretched over your breasts. 

“It’s very cute, darlin’, but you ain’t goin’ out like that,” Joel grumbled. 

“Why?” You frowned. 

“I ain’t tryna get arrested tonight. ‘Cause if one man lay eyes on those perky tits, I’m killin’ them.”

You strode toward him, pressing your body against his. His hands found their usual spot over the swell of your ass, his fingers prodding into the supple flesh hidden under the denim. You hummed as his mouth dipped to your ear, his teeth grazing over the shell as his voice dropped low. 

“Why don’t we just stay in?” He breathed. “Wanna take you right back in the house and fuck you ‘til you can’t walk.”

“You promised me a night out, Joel,” you whined. 

He made his way down your neck, peppering you with open-mouthed kisses before responding to your demands.

“Fine,” he muttered against your skin. “Get your sexy ass in the fuckin’ truck, and let’s go.”

He released you and climbed into the truck with a mischievous grin. Joel quickly pulled you across the bench, tucking you into his side as he pulled out of the driveway and toward the bar. You brushed your hand over Joel’s thigh, your fingers creeping up to the zipper of his jeans. He shifted in the seat, spreading his legs a little wider to welcome more of your touch. 

“You’re gonna get yourself in trouble, babydoll,” he warned. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied innocently. 

His hand shot out before you could drag his zipper down, bringing your fingers up to his mouth to place gentle kisses along each digit. 

“I’ll make you a bet,” he smirked, turning his head to look at you.

“What kind of bet?”

“No touchin’ each other tonight. The first person to do it loses.”

A giggle bubbled out of you as you considered his offer. Knowing Joel, he’d lose before you stepped into the bar. The idea of teasing him all night already had your thighs clenching tight, the friction of the denim against your aching clit nearly too painful to bear.

“What happens to the loser?” You asked.

“Loser gets to do whatever the other one wants.”

The truck slowed to a stop as the streetlight turned red, and you moved closer to reel him in for a deep kiss. If this bet was going to happen, you wanted all the attention before you set out to win the bet. Joel’s tongue brushed over your lips, coaxing your mouth open wider and deepening the kiss. You moaned into his mouth, tangling your hands in his hair to hold him closer. 

“You’re on, cowboy,” you grinned, pulling away as the light turned green. “Hope you’re ready to lose.”

“We’ll see ‘bout that, darlin'.”

The bar was mildly crowded for a Friday night. Most of the patrons were older men sulking around or flirting with the bartenders. Soft country music floated out of the jukebox in the corner, and you found yourself swaying your hips to the melody. Joel watched you as you danced, his eyes never leaving your body unless he caught wind of another man admiring you from afar. You laughed each time he scowled at them and upped the movement of your hips just to get a rise out of him. Watching him try to hold back from touching you was cute, his hand nearly crushing the beer he was nursing. 

After your third drink, the tipsy feeling started to settle in, and self-restraint was slowly phasing out of your body. Joel noticed the shift in your mood as you perched yourself on a barstool. You tried to hide the way you clenched your thighs, chasing the friction of the denim rubbing against your aching clit. Leaning in as close as he could, Joel lowered his head and chuckled. 

“Doin’ okay, babydoll?” He whispered in your ear, his mouth a breath away from your neck.

You shivered at the phantom touch; he was so close, yet not close enough. 

“Stop it,” you exhaled. “You’re not playing fair.”

“Not playin’ fair?” He questioned. “You ain’t been playin’ fair since you walked out the damn house.”

“Aw, poor baby,” you feigned sympathy. “Am I driving you crazy with my lil’ outfit?”

“You have no fuckin’ idea, darlin’.”

Scootching off the barstool, you tilted your head toward the vacant pool table. Joel’s eyes followed the motion, raising his brow at your silent invitation.

“Y’wanna play?” He asked. “Hope you’re ready to lose, darlin’.”

“You talk a big game, cowboy. You’re on.”

You grabbed a cue stick and waited for Joel to rack the balls and center them on the green velvet table. He grabbed his own stick and gestured to you to start. 

“All you, babydoll. Let’s see it.”

You rounded the table and leaned over to line your stick with the cue ball. Inhaling on the pull of your stick, you exhaled and drove it into the cue. The sound of the resin balls breaking shattered the music in the background, their triangle formation scattering across the table. You managed to sink two striped balls into the left corner pocket and rose to assess the damage. Joel stared at you, impressed, nodding as he lined up his stick with the cue. 

“Y’got stripes, babydoll. Solid’s are mine,” he mutters, his eyes trained on the ball. 

You watched, mesmerized, as Joel’s shoulder muscles moved fluidly with each extension of his arm. With a strong drive of the stick, Joel sunk the four ball into the right-center pocket. Giving you a cocky grin, he rounded the table again, this time directly facing you. He stared up at you, his eyes dark under the furrow of his brows. You bent over the table's edge, propping your face onto your hands and shimming your shoulders slightly. Joel’s eyes snapped up to your chest, fixated on the way your breasts pushed together.

“Not fair,” he gritted before sending his stick into the cue ball. 

The ball scratched on the table, missing the solid he aimed for. You smirked at him, sticking your tongue out as you skipped around the table to settle into position against the table. You eyed Joel as he moved to stand behind you, and you rewarded him with pushing your ass out further. Giving your hips a little wiggle, you sent a forceful shot into the cue, sinking the nine ball and ricocheting it against the twelve ball, sending it into the right corner pocket. 

“Damn,” Joel mumbled, tracking your body as you lined up for your third turn. 

“Didn’t think I was good, huh?” You laughed. 

“You’re good at everythin’, darlin’.”

The dip in his voice vibrated up your body as you pressed your legs against the table to line up for the next stroke. Joel leaned his hip against the corner of the table, folding his arms as he watched you aim your stick at the cue. 

“C’mon, babydoll,” he whispered, drawing your focus away from the shot and causing the cue ball to sink into the pocket rather than the fifteen ball you were gunning toward. 

“You play dirty,” you grumbled. 

Joel crowded you, his body inches from yours. You arched into the distance between your bodies, barely keeping your chest from brushing his. 

“I bet those panties are already soaked, huh?” Joel teased.

You gave him an innocent smile, ready to deliver the final blow to his restraint. Rising onto your toes, you kept your mouth close to his ear. 

“They would be if I were wearing any, cowboy.”

You pulled back to see Joel’s nostrils flaring, his eyes roaming down your body and back up. 

“Bathroom. Now.” He demanded. 

“But we’re still playing,” you whined, gesturing to the pool table. 

Joel’s hand shot out to your waist, dragging you to his body. 

“Fuck the game. Need you in that bathroom now so I can fuck that sassiness outta you,” he growled. 

“I’m not sassin’ you, cowboy. You’re just a sore loser,” you taunted. 

“I ain’t gonna ask again, babydoll. You either walk to the bathroom right now, or I fuck you on that pool table in front of everyone.”

“Maybe I want a crowd,” you shrugged with a coy grin. “Bend me over right here, cowboy. Show them who’s yours.”

“Bet you’d like that, huh? Have all them eyes on you while you scream my name and soak the table. Y’wanna show everyone how good y’take my cock?”

“Do it,” you smiled. 

Joel’s hand traveled down your ass, squeezing it hard enough to make you yelp before smacking it hard. A few heads turned at the sound, their wandering eyes scrutinizing you and Joel. Even though Joel could be all talk, you knew he wouldn’t actually fuck you in front of everyone, not when he was the most protective and selfish man there was. 

You were too turned on to fight it now. Turning toward the bathroom, you glanced over your shoulder and smiled as Joel watched you walk to the dimly lit hallway of the bar. You didn’t have the care to notice heads turning to stare at you as you passed, the excitement too strong as it coursed through your veins. You barely had a hand on the door when you felt a warm body pressed against your back, and Joel was quick to shove you inside the one-stall bathroom. With a quick turn of the lock, he had you pinned to the ceramic sink and his mouth crashing against yours. While you tangled your fingers into his messy curls, Joel worked at your shorts, tugging the tight denim down your hips and thighs. He broke away from your lips, staring down at your bare sex as you spread your legs slightly. 

“Fuckin’ christ, babydoll,” he exhaled. “Can’t believe you been keepin’ this from me all night.”

“Like what you see?” 

Joel wrapped two strong hands behind your thighs and lifted you onto the edge of the sink. You gasped at the shock of the cold against your bare ass, bucking your hips forward to search for his warmth. He lowered himself onto his knees, keeping a firm grip on your thighs as you settled your calves over his shoulders. Peering up at you between your parted legs, Joel gave you a wicked grin before brushing his nose up your inner thighs. 

“You know I won, right?” You questioned as his tongue pressed against your throbbing clit. “Technically, I should be calling the shots.”

Joel glared up at you, his pupils blown wide under the red lights of the bathroom. 

“Y’can call the shots all you want later,” he mumbled. “Right now, you’re mine.”

You cried as his tongue dipped inside you, his jaw working overtime to pull each pitiful sound from your body. He drew circles around your slick folds, purposefully avoiding your aching clit. You whined every time his tongue brushed close to it, that agonizing surge of pleasure coursing through your body. Music from the bar drifted into the bathroom, layering over the frustrated cries leaving your lips. 

“Stop teasing, cowboy,” you panted, bucking your hips against his tongue.

“This is what ya’ get, darlin’,” Joel spoke against your wet cunt.

“Please,” you begged.

He pulled away entirely, leaving you chasing the orgasm you never got. Spinning you toward the mirror, Joel worked at freeing his cock with one hand while pressing the other hand into your spine. You flattened against the sink, your hands pressed against the mirror. Glancing up, you met his eyes in the mirror, watching as his lips twitched into a devilish grin. That was all the warning he gave before he drove into you in one fluid stroke. 

“Fuck!” You cried, your head falling between your shoulders.

Joel’s hand wound around your hair, twisting it into a ponytail and yanking your neck back until you strained against his grip. 

“Nuh uh, babydoll,” Joel grunted. “Watch me while I fuck you.”

You locked your eyes with his through the reflection, watching as his face twisted into something carnal. He pounded into you with enough force to make the sink underneath you creak with the weight pressed against it. Joel kept a relentless pace, dismissing every whine and sob falling off your lips. He reached around you with his other hand, wrapping his hand around your throat and squeezing tight. You heaved in a breath as your vision blurred, the pleasure mixing with pain every time he slammed into you.

Your orgasm started surging up through your core, snaking into your bloodstream and becoming unbearable to hold back. You choked out a sob, your thighs quaking as the pleasure built inside your stomach.

“Joel,” you choked. 

“Y’need to cum, babydoll?” Joel taunted, driving into you hard.

His cock hit the right spot over and over again until he felt your cunt clenching around him. He pulled out at the exact moment your orgasm exploded through your body, liquid gushing out of you and down your thighs. Joel growled in approval, sinking back into you as the aftershocks sent tremors through your limbs.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he praised. “Keep takin’ my fuckin’ cock. I ain’t done yet, babydoll.”

His hand was still gripping your throat, his fingers applying more pressure to cut off your ragged whimpers. You clawed at the edge of the sink, entirely at Joel’s mercy as he wrecked into you harder…faster. He didn’t lie when he said he was going to fuck the sass out of you; you were helpless in this moment. 

But you fucking loved it.

“So. Fuckin’. Good.” Joel punched out each word through every thrust. 

Joel released your throat and wrapped both hands in your hair, using it to guide your hips back against his cock. You were so full of him and so sore, but you couldn’t deny the pressure swelling inside your stomach. You gasped for air as each thrust grew stronger, his cock assaulting you until you spasmed under him and let your orgasm rush out of you. 

“Fuck! Fuck… fuck… fuck,” you chanted, chasing the throbbing pulse inside your body. 

Warm liquid drenched his cock, the lewd sound of his hips meeting yours echoing around you. Joel pulled out suddenly, leaving you hollow and soaked. Wrangling you to your knees, Joel pumped his cock over your open mouth, grunting out your name as his release painted your tongue and lips. Bending down to eye level, Joel lapped up the cum dripping off your swollen lips before bringing his hand up to slap your cheek. He rubbed a hand over your face, smearing your makeup around, leaving you a fucked-out mess.

“Y’look so pretty like this,” he hummed, pulling you in for a hungry kiss. You whimpered into his mouth, his tongue intertwining with yours. 

“I love you, babydoll,” he sighed, pressing his lips against your forehead. 

“I love you too, cowboy,” you preened. 

You were used to him being rough—dominant—but this possessiveness was intoxicating. You wanted more.

“I think I should sass you more often,” you giggled. 

“You enjoy bein’ fucked like a bratty lil’ slut?” He smirked. 

“Love it,” you exhaled, dragging him back to your mouth. 

Joel helped you back into your shorts after you both took a moment to breathe. You turned towards the mirror and admired the complete mess that you were; your hair was mangled into knots, your shirt was askew, and your face was covered in streaks of mascara, smeared lipstick, and drool. A giggle bubbled out of you as you tried to tame down your hair and wipe away some of the makeup coating your rosy cheeks. Joel grabbed your hand, tugging you away from the mirror.

“Leave it,” he whispered. “Want everyone to see how filthy you are.”

“Seriously?” You gaped. 

Joel nodded his eyes, his eyes coasting over your body. 

“Seriously, babydoll. Need to show them you’re mine.”

“I think they already know,” you said pointedly. “I’m pretty sure I was loud enough to break the jukebox.”

He chuckled at your statement, tapping your ass and guiding you toward the door. Dropping his mouth to your ear, he softly kissed your neck before twisting the lock open.

“C’mon, darlin’. Let’s go home so y’can have your way with me.”

“I’m going to make you pay for this, cowboy,” you warned. “I'm going to have you on your knees begging for it.”

“I’ll happily worship you all night, babydoll,” he smiled, kissing your cheek before guiding you into the hall and out to his truck.

[rebelliousstories]

Their S/O Giving Them Small Yet Thoughtful Gifts…

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Suggestive Themes, Brief Angst

Word Count: 1,150

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Consider Donating to the Page: Here

Logan Howlett/The Wolverine

* Logan’s love language is acts of service. He doesn’t like to do big and extravagant anything. Of course there are some exceptions, but for the most part he likes keeping things solely for the two of you.

* So you giving him small things is perfect for him. I see him as someone who enjoys wood working in all capacities, especially figurines. He keeps them in the bedroom away from anyone who might see them, but you both know they’re there. Logan’s got a wolverine figurine on his nightstand which I could see as you get it for him, and he shoots you a deadpan look at first, but he treasures it with everything in him.

* I could also see him receiving new flannels, or clothing. Something practical. New colors and patterns would be something that he wouldn’t think of getting normally, but if you see them in town, get them. He’s wearing those specific articles of clothing till they’re thread bare. Let’s be completely honest though, if you bring that man anything, he’s cherishing it. It could be a carefully thought out present, or a rock you found on the way home that reminded you of him.

* Two ways he’ll accept a present that you give him: if you’re around others, he’ll grunt out a thank you, and press a quick kiss to your head before pocketing or stowing it away so no one else can see what a sucker he is for you. Or, his preferred way of receiving gifts, is in the comfort of your bedroom when it’s just the two of you. There, he’ll wrap you in a big hug, and stay there. He’s a man of few words. But in the privacy of your room, he can pepper you with kisses and affection as much as he wants without anyone else judging him for it. Logan still needs to protect his persona after all.

Wade Wilson/Deadpool

* I can completely see Wade as someone who does the absolute most for his S/O. He’s someone who will throw you a party just because. So dealing with someone who doesn’t do the big parties and gifts like him is a bit of a learning curve. But once he gets the hang of it, Wade is treasuring all you give him.

* Anything Hello Kitty specifically, or Sanrio in general, is a-okay n his books. Once he moves out of the one bedroom apartment with Al, he’s setting up a shelf that has all of his collectibles and trinkets that have the characters on them. He goes feral over some blind boxes too. Give him a few, and he’ll tear through them cause that ADHD must be satisfied.

* Wade also really likes gifts you would get from an arcade or skate rink. Like the ones you have to collect tickets to get. He likes nostalgia, alright? Just give him things that remind him of a simpler time, and he is absolute putty. Could totally see him still wanting, receiving, and playing CDs and VHS tapes.

* When you do give him his gift, no matter if you’re in front of people or alone, he’s landing the wettest smack of a kiss on your cheek, following quickly by one on your lips. Just be mindful to hold his hands because they will start to wander to inappropriate places if you let him.

Remy LeBeau/Gambit

* Now, for my little Cajun. He is so appreciative of just the fact that you’re dating him, he doesn’t need gifts. That said, he will love anything you give him. Remy loves collecting things from different countries and states. So if you travel, bring him something small back. He arranges everything in order on a specific set of shelves that he got just to display all the little items.

* This may be stereotypical for him, but the Gambit LOVES fancy card decks. The ones he uses in battle are always ones that are not fancy, but just some sturdy standard cards. But you give this man a fancy deck of cards that have intricate designs and patterns? Ooo Lordy he’s a sucker for that. He gets some little stands for the decks so he can display them proudly next to his travel gifts.

* Unless his friends are prepared for it, no one asks him about the ever growing shelves of trinkets. Most of the time because he will find a way to bring up the newest one anyways regardless of the conversation. It’s not that they don’t like hearing about the new items, it’s just that Remy takes that as an excuse to talk far too long about them and you. Sometimes, if a new person comes over and makes the mistake of asking about the shelves, his friends will all groan, and begin grabbing another drink or food so they aren’t subject to his speech again.

* Remy will always show his appreciation for when you bring home a gift for him. If you’re coming back from your travels and have a gift for him, he’s extra appreciative. He hadn’t seen you in too long, which means he needs to spoil you more. Hugging you close, kissing everywhere he can, general tangled limbs. If you come home with a fancy deck of cards though? Y’all ain’t leaving the bedroom till the next day.

Poly! Logan & Wade

* Oh my goodness… double trouble on opposite ends of the spectrum. Logan doesn’t mind PDA, and for Wade that’s a must. So naturally their reactions are going to be different when they receive their gifts. No matter what, they agree to cherish it as much as they can.

* Giving them gifts together prompts some grumbling on behalf of Logan, and playful competition from Wade. Wade doesn’t mean to belittle whatever you got for Logan but the other man can’t help but get defensive over you and your presents when he does this. It honestly is the one thing that puts him in a foul mood fast.

* If you give them gifts separately, which would probably be the best, they each give their own thanks for their gifts. Even if the gifts go together, it’s just easier to give them separate because of how differently they show appreciation.

* Logan would not be overtly jealous if you give Wade something shinier, newer, or more expensive, but he would deal with it quietly. He would never bring it up to you, but you could see the glances and looks he would throw towards Wade when he got his gifts. Give this man a new piece of jewelry. I see him as a watch man, so giving him a brand new one would definitely keep his own self doubt from creeping up as often. Just be warned, if Wade sees this, he’s going to want a new present. So just give him a Hello Kitty figurine and he’ll be fine.

[justabigassnerd]

Come Home To Us

Pairing - Tim Bradford x reader

Word count - 4,748

Warnings - angst, inaccurate hospital/police scenes, mentions of suicide, viruses, brief mention of Tim's father, swearing, mentions of Tim getting shot

Summary - Tim liked to keep his personal and work life separate, although a certain event was about to change that

A/N - hey y'all this was an anon request that was an honour to write and I will forever push the girl dad Tim agenda I'm not sorry in the slightest. anyways I won't ramble but as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

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Most of the Mid-Wilshire Police Department only knew Tim Bradford as the hard-ass training officer who never cracked a smile. They would see someone who had the toughest exterior known to man and assumed he was the same outside of work. But in actuality, Tim had a secret that very few knew about. And that secret was about to come out.

“Good morning, Tim.” Your sweet voice says softly as Tim blinks his eyes open, a smile coming to his face as his eyes lock with yours.

“Good morning, Baby,” Tim replies, instantly reaching across to wrap an arm around your waist, tugging you close so he can press a soft kiss to your lips as you giggle.

“You’re up earlier than usual.” Tim then muses with a light laugh as he notices the time on the clock behind you, knowing you always woke up after his alarm went off.

“Your daughter wanted a glass of water and who am I to deny her what she wants?” You reply, curling into Tim as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“My daughter?” Tim asks, an amused tone to his voice, pulling away enough to be able to look down at you.

“She wakes up at the crack of dawn most mornings. She gets that from you.” You laugh, watching as Tim lets out a gentle laugh before giving you another soft kiss.

“Momma! Daddy!” You glance over your shoulder to see your little girl Mia rushing into your room, and you open up your arms to catch her when she launches herself onto yours and Tim’s shared bed.

“Good morning, Sweetheart.” Tim greets Mia with a smile as she clambers from your embrace to Tim’s, giggling as he peppers her face with kisses. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched Tim and Mia interact. You remembered how in your early stages of pregnancy, Tim had been terrified, he was scared he was going to end up like his own father or that something would happen to him and leave you alone with a baby to take care of. But the moment Mia was born and he held her in his arms for the first time, Tim knew that he would go through hell and back to protect his little girl. He wanted to give her the whole world and more. You saw how Tim took to being Mia’s dad easily, he loved her like it was breathing and he made sure he was a present parent in her life.

“Can I have breakfast, please?” Mia asks, looking between you and Tim with the puppy dog eyes that melted you both down in seconds.

“Let’s get you ready for preschool first, then we’ll make breakfast,” Tim says, scooping Mia up into his arms, and sitting her on his hip as he gets out of bed. As he takes Mia back to her room to get her ready for the day, you get up and begin to change yourself, readying yourself for the day before heading out to the kitchen to begin making breakfast.

“Momma! Daddy said I could help make breakfast!” Mia comes hurtling into the kitchen, excitedly looking up at you as you laugh.

“Of course, you can help, Sweetie. What would you like for breakfast?” You ask, finding the little stepstool so that Mia can reach the kitchen counter to assist you in making breakfast.

“Cereal please.” She requests as you nod, already handing her one of her favourite princess bowls. Mia reaches up to the cupboard you kept the cereal in while you watched carefully. Mia was only five years old but she was already growing in her independence, and you knew she got that from Tim. Despite that, she was the sweetest little soul who loved and cared for everyone around her and you couldn’t be prouder to have her as your daughter.

“You got it, Sweetie? Do you want me to grab you the milk?” You ask softly, resting your hand on Mia’s back as you watch her carefully pour some cereal into the bowl, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth in her concentration.

“Yes please, Momma,” Mia asks, satisfied with the amount of cereal she’s put in the bowl as she carefully places the box down. You press a soft kiss to the top of Mia’s head before heading over to the fridge to grab the milk for her as Tim enters the kitchen, smiling at you both and now dressed for the day.

“How’s breakfast making going?” Tim asks, crossing to you and capturing your lips in a soft kiss before letting you give the milk to Mia.

“You’re getting soft, you know?” You say with a laugh, thinking about the way Tim used to be when you first met him.

“Only for my family,” Tim says, hovering near Mia to supervise as she tries to pour the milk herself, eventually placing his hand on the carton and giving Mia a helping hand.

“I forget work doesn’t get the same privileges as us.” You tease, beginning to prep both your and Tim’s morning coffees, putting them into their respective travel mugs before making Mia’s packed lunch and filling a bottle with water for her.

As Mia eats her breakfast, Tim makes breakfast for you and him while you pack Mia’s bag with everything she’ll need for the day. You then join Tim and Mia at the table to eat your breakfast before noting the time when you’ve finished eating and tidied away.

“We should head out. Don’t want you to be late to preschool, do we?” You say, tickling Mia quickly, smiling as she squeals and squirms.

“Daddy, help!” Mia calls out for Tim to save her, making him scoop her up in his arms, holding her close as you laugh.

“I’ll protect you, Mia,” Tim says, holding her close as you roll your eyes jokingly.

“You can protect her by taking her to preschool, then.” You say, picking up Mia’s bag and holding it out towards Tim who takes it and slings the small strap over his shoulder.

“I can do that. Are you okay to collect her this afternoon?” Tim says, carrying Mia over to the shoe rack and helping her put her shoes on while you follow behind, grabbing your own work bag.

“Yeah, that’s perfectly fine.” You say, bending down as you gently brush Mia’s stray hair away from her face.

“Bye, Momma,” Mia says, throwing herself into your arms. You’re quick to hug her back, relishing the feeling of her clinging to you.

“Bye, Sweetie. I’ll see you this afternoon.” You whisper, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head before releasing her from the hug, straightening up to say goodbye to Tim.

“You’ll stay safe, won’t you? Come home to us?” You ask quietly so Mia doesn’t hear you.

“I always do. Nothing can stop me from coming home to you both.” Tim reassures you softly, placing his hands on your waist to pull you a little closer. He understood your fears, and he knew you’d been living with them for years. After Mia was born your worry only increased which made Tim all the more determined to get home to his family after every shift. And after the recent incident where Tim got shot, you worried about him even more.

“I love you.” You whisper softly just before Tim cups your face softly in his hands, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“I love you too.” He whispers after pulling away from the embrace, smiling down at you softly to reassure you that little bit more.

“Daddy, come on we need to go!” Mia’s little voice snaps you back to reality as she tugs on Tim’s jacket, making you both laugh.

“Okay, okay, you have a point. Let’s get going, Princess.” Tim says, taking Mia’s little hand in one hand while grabbing both his bag and hers with the other before heading out of the front door to take Mia to preschool and then head to work. A few minutes after Tim leaves, you grab your keys and bag then head out to your car so you can make your way to work. You worked at the local high school so you knew your day was going to be busy as you began the drive to work.

As you arrived at work you greeted your colleagues as you passed them in the corridors, making your way to your classroom, heading over to your desk and placing everything down so you can get on with your morning tasks. You spend time prepping your classes and making sure you’re ready for the day before your students begin to file into the room, all of them greeting you with a smile as they cross to their desks and settle in their seats.

The day progressed like any other, nothing you weren’t used to working in a high school. You taught your classes and caught up with your coworkers during lunch. Until your phone rang with an unknown number. Instantly filled with dread and assuming the worst, you excused yourself from your coworkers and accepted the call, walking to a quiet corner of the staff lounge.

“Hello?” You say into the phone, your throat drying up in anticipation of any bad news.

“Hello, is this Mrs. Bradford?” A nervous female voice asks.

“Yes, it is. Who am I speaking to?” You confirm before asking the woman on the other end of the line for her name.

“I’m Officer Lucy Chen. I’m Officer Bradford’s rookie.” Lucy introduced herself, pacing anxiously back and forth in front of the door she knew Tim was behind. You recognised Lucy’s name quickly as you recalled Tim talking about her.

“Is Tim okay?” Your voice was shaky as tears threatened to well up in your eyes. You knew Tim didn’t open up about his personal life to anyone at work outside of Angela and Wade so the fact he told his rookie about you was ringing alarm bells in your head.

“He- you know I’ll just let him tell you himself,” Lucy says, placing the phone by the gap under the door and putting you on speaker.

“Tim?” Your voice came through to the other room, making Tim perk up the slightest bit at hearing your voice.

“y/n?” Tim replies, making you let out a slight sigh of relief from hearing his voice, even if it was partially muffled.

“Tim, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” You ask, your fear evident in your voice as Tim leans his head back, resting it against the door.

“There’s been an incident. I don’t know if I’ll make it home tonight.” Tim says, trying to find the words to describe what’s going on without panicking you further.

“Tim, talk to me. What’s happened?” You plead, desperate for answers.

“Don’t tell anyone at work about this. But we found out there’s a group wanting to disperse a virus within the city. We tracked one of the weapons to this house after a guy picked it up by accident and he got sick and… he coughed on me. I’m quarantining in this room while we wait for the CDC but if I start showing any signs of the virus, I want to go out on my own terms. I don’t want to go through what I just saw this guy go through. I owe it to you to tell you that.” Tim says, and you feel a tear slip down your cheek at his words.

“No. You’ll be okay. You’re going to come home.” You say, lifting your free hand to wipe your tears away before anyone notices.

“But I might not. And I want you to be prepared for that outcome. Just promise me you’ll give Mia a hug from me and tell her I love her so much.” Tim says, fighting back the building tears at the thought of not seeing you or Mia again.

“You’ll tell her that yourself. Just hold on. You’ll be okay.” You beg, hoping that by some miracle the CDC will enter the room Tim is in and save him.

“I love you so much,” Tim murmurs softly.

“I love you too.” You whisper quietly in response.

“You go back to work, okay? I’ll have someone call you no matter what happens. I promise.” Tim says, and as much as you wanted to tell him no, to tell him that you wanted to come and sit with him and be by his side when he needed you. But you understood that he wanted you to keep busy, and for you to try not to worry about him too much, although that ship had already sailed.

“Okay. I love you.” You say, hearing Tim’s whispered response before you hang up the phone, wondering how you are going to get through the rest of the day with these thoughts in your head. You were thankful that after lunch you had a free period so you didn’t have to worry about teaching any classes and could focus on grading papers and making new lesson plans to get a head start. As you worked, you found your gaze being drawn towards the framed picture you have on your desk of you, Tim, and Mia. All you could do was hope that Tim would be okay, you had no idea how you’d tell Mia if anything happened to Tim. Mia was the biggest daddy’s girl and you knew it would crush her if you had to look her in the eye and tell her that her daddy wasn’t coming home.

“Please be okay, Tim.” You whisper, hoping that by some miracle, someone will hear your whisper and be able to save Tim. Halfway through your free period, your phone buzzed once more and this time you saw Angela’s name displayed across your phone screen and you scooped your phone up instantly, answering the call.

“Angela, please tell me he’s okay.” You plead, pacing your classroom anxiously as you wait for Angela to respond.

“He’s on his way to the hospital. The CDC got there and administered the vaccine but as he was leaving the house he passed out. He’s going to Shaw Memorial.” Angela explains as Jackson drives them to the hospital.

“I’m getting Mia and I’m coming to the hospital.” You say, shoving everything in your bag with little to no consideration for anything else but getting to Shaw Memorial.

“I’ll be waiting for you both,” Angela says with a nod, ignoring Jackson’s confused glances, bidding you goodbye before hanging up the phone.

After ending the call, you finish packing your bag and immediately make a beeline for the principal's office, knocking and entering with permission.

“Ah, y/n, what can I do for you?” He says with a friendly smile which falters when he notices your worried expression and the bag on your shoulder.

“Something’s happened with my husband. He’s in the hospital and I need to go and see him. I have lesson plans all written up in my desk so a substitute can step in I just need to go and see Tim.” You explain, trying not to sound too flustered but you also knew you were failing miserably.

“Of course, you can go. We should have someone available, I’ll track them down before the next period. You’re free to go. I hope everything is okay.” He says softly, holding up a hand to calm you down. When you process his words, you let out a small sigh of relief, your shoulders sagging in relief.

“Thank you so much, Paul.” You thank him gratefully, beginning to back away towards the door before saying a quick goodbye and rushing out to your car. You waste no time driving over to the preschool Mia is at, soon pulling up outside and heading into the reception.

“Mrs. Bradford, how can I help you?” The receptionist, Poppy greets you as you enter the room, her normal smile plastered on her face.

“I would like to pick Mia up early, please.” You say as you reach the front desk, bracing your hands on the desk.

“Is everything okay?” Poppy asks, picking up on your worried expression instantly.

“Tim’s in the hospital.” You say quietly and Poppy’s eyes widen slightly, making her nod as she gets up from her seat.

“I’ll go and get her.” She says quickly, excusing herself and heading off to find Mia and bring her to you. Poppy was only gone for about five minutes and soon returned with Mia skipping along by her side.

“Momma!” Mia exclaims happily, rushing into your outstretched arms as you crouch down to catch her in your arms.

“Hi, Sweetie.” You greet her, trying not to let your voice wobble with emotion as you straighten up, taking her hand in yours and taking her bag from her with your spare hand as you thank Poppy before walking Mia out to your car, helping her into her car seat and buckling her in.

“Where are we going, Momma?” Mia asks, her voice filled with innocence as she watches you carefully. And as much as you wanted to protect her, you knew you couldn’t lie to her.

“Daddy’s in the hospital so we need to go and make sure he’s okay.” You explain, brushing some baby hairs away from her face as she frowns, eyebrows furrowing as she puts everything together in her head.

“Daddy’s hurt?” She asks quietly, making you realise she was thinking of when Tim was last hurt on the job.

“I’m not sure, Sweetie. The doctors will tell me what’s happened when we get there and then we can check on him.” You say softly, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head before you get behind the wheel, driving to the hospital. When you find a place to park, you help Mia out of the car, walking alongside her hand in hand while you call Angela, letting her know where you’re entering the hospital so she can meet you. It took you less than five minutes to locate Angela.

“Auntie Angie!” Mia calls out, rushing over to Angela who scoops Mia up in her arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Hey, Mia.” Angela greets you with a smile before looking over at you.

“How is he?” You ask quietly, watching Angela’s reaction carefully.

“He seems to be okay. He woke up before they got him into the hospital. He actually helped one of our rookies out of a tough spot. The doctors are waiting for you, I’ll keep an eye on Mia. I think you need some time alone with Tim first.” Angela says, causing you to let out a sigh of relief as you thank Angela quietly before crossing to the nurse's desk.

“Hello, I’ve been told my husband, Tim Bradford has been brought here. Can I see him?” You ask, watching as the nurse glances at you with a smile.

“Let me just get the doctor for you.” They say, paging the doctor who arrives in what feels like record time and quickly locates you still standing by the desk.

“Mrs. Bradford?” The doctor greets you softly, making you turn to face him with a smile and a nod.

“Yes. Is Tim okay?” You ask, desperate for answers.

“Your husband is okay. All his test results have come back clear and an allergic reaction to the vaccine caused his passing out.” The doctor explains, a smile on her face as you nod, happy tears coming to your eyes.

“Can I see him? Is that okay?” You ask, your fingers drifting to your wedding ring as you twist it nervously around your ring finger.

“Yes, you may. Follow me and I’ll take you to his room.” She says with a nod, turning and leading you to a room, stopping by the door and encouraging you to head in. After a deep breath, you open the door and head into the room.

“y/n.” Tim breathes out softly from where he is sitting on the hospital bed. You didn’t respond at first, instead striding across the room, sitting alongside Tim on the bed, grabbing his face in your hands and kissing him strongly. You had no words for how relieved you were to see Tim alive and well so all you could do in this moment was kiss him.

“You scared the shit out of me.” You whisper, pulling away enough to speak, your lips brushing up against his as your hands drop from Tim’s face to his shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I promise it was never my intention to scare you. I thought today was going to be an easy day at work.” Tim admits quietly, lifting a hand to cup your cheek in his hand and brush a thumb over the apple of your cheek softly.

“Last time you said that was after you got shot. Maybe you should stop assuming work’s going to be easy.” You weakly attempt to joke, pulling back a little more as Tim lets out a light chuckle, dropping his hand from your cheek, reaching up and taking one of your hands in his, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles rhythmically.

“Sounds like I should,” Tim says softly. There was then a slight lull in conversation as you thought of what Tim had said to you on the phone earlier.

“Did… did you mean what you said about going out on your own terms? Would you have really-” You cut yourself off, tears already stinging your eyes at the mere thought of Tim taking his own life.

“If you had seen what that virus did to a person, you’d understand why it was a serious consideration. I didn’t want to go through what I had just seen that guy Peter go through. That virus was horrible, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.” Tim explains, his eyes never leaving yours for a second as you nod lightly.

“So, you don’t feel like that normally? It was only because you thought you were sick with that virus?” You ask, watching Tim’s expression carefully.

“I promise you I don’t ever have thoughts like that. I’ve never been happier with my life than I am now. You and Mia are my life and you both make me so unbelievably happy. I promise.” Tim says, squeezing your hand to exaggerate his point. At his words, you nod, lifting your free hand to wipe the threatening tears away.

“You’d tell me if you ever felt like that. Wouldn’t you?” You ask softly, watching as Tim nods.

“Of course,” Tim whispers. Part of you knew that Tim had a tendency to keep his struggles to himself, but since starting a relationship with you he had gotten better at opening up about things so you at least had some comfort in the knowledge that he was more likely to come to you about any problems. With everything now discussed, you looked at Tim with a soft smile before speaking.

“Would you like to see Mia? She’s with Angela in the waiting room.” You say, not missing how Tim’s eyes lit up at the mention of his daughter.

“She’s here?” He asks, watching as you nod with a smile.

“I’ll go and grab her now.” You say, standing up and pressing a quick kiss to the top of Tim’s head before exiting the room and heading back to the waiting room where you see Mia sitting on a chair as a female police officer stands behind the chair as she did Mia’s hair. You didn’t know who this officer was but judging by everyone’s smiles, she was a good one.

“Momma! Look! Lucy did my hair!” Mia exclaims excitedly, hopping off the chair and showing off the braids she now had in her hair and when you hear Mia name the police officer, you realise that she must be the one who called you earlier.

“It’s very pretty, Mia! Did you thank Lucy?” You ask, guiding Mia back towards the group of gathered police officers.

“Thank you, Lucy!” Mia chirps, rushing over to the rookie who smiles and shakes her head.

“No need to thank me. Mia’s a sweetheart.” Lucy at first says to Mia before looking up at you and directing her next sentence to you.

“Aw thank you. But in all seriousness, I should be thanking you for calling me about Tim in the first place.” You thank Lucy gratefully, feeling like you owe her so much.

“Tim asked me to call you for him. All I did was dial the number.” Lucy says in an attempt to downplay what she did.

“You still let me know about what happened. That means a lot.” You say, smiling at Lucy who nods with a shy smile of her own.

“I’d love to spend time chatting but I promised Tim I’d bring Mia to see him. But I would love to get to know you all properly at some point.” You say apologetically, taking Mia’s hand in your own and bidding the gathered officers a hurried goodbye before heading off in the direction of Tim’s hospital room. As they watch you leave, Nolan and Jackson move to stand by Lucy’s side.

“Tim had a whole secret family and no one knew but Angela?” Jackson asks, glancing over at his training officer who shrugs with a grin.

“It helps to be the one who introduced them,” Angela says proudly, making the rookies exchange a look.

“She’s basically the polar opposite of Tim,” Nolan says, wondering why Angela had thought you and Tim would’ve made a good couple.

“They say opposites attract and I just knew y/n and Tim would work,” Angela says, folding her arms across her chest as the other rookies begin to bombard her with questions.

Meanwhile, you led Mia to Tim’s hospital room, opening the door and encouraging her to enter the room, seeing how she smiled upon seeing her dad.

“Daddy!” She says happily, rushing over to Tim’s bedside as Tim smiles widely.

“Hi, Sweetheart,” Tim says, holding an arm open to encourage Mia to hop up alongside him but you both see her hesitation as you pull up a chair alongside the bedside, settling into it. You exchange a glance with Tim before you realise why it is she was hesitating to join Tim.

“You’re not going to hurt Daddy, Sweetie.” You say softly. You remembered how when Tim got shot and was in the hospital last, Mia had rushed into his hospital room and nearly jumped up alongside him so you had warned Mia to be careful and to not jump on him while he was hurt.

“I’m not hurt, Princess. I promise.” Tim says, smiling softly at your daughter as he extends his arm out once again, and this time Mia carefully climbs up on the bed alongside him and curls into his embrace, resting her head on his chest.

“How long have you got off this time?” You ask lightly as Tim runs a hand up and down Mia’s back.

“At least two weeks,” Tim says, remembering what the doctor had told him just so they could play on the side of caution.

“Oh good, that’s plenty of time for you to reconsider my idea of getting a dog.” You say with a smile, watching as Tim jokingly glares at you while Mia perks up.

“Yes! Get a dog!” She says excitedly, curling up closer to Tim and attempting to give him puppy dog eyes.

“We’ve been over this,” Tim says, looking pointedly at you as you smile innocently.

“Please, Daddy.” Mia pleads, cuddling impossibly closer as Tim rolls his eyes jokingly.

“I will consider it.” Tim concedes, sighing as you and Mia share a high-five. As you settle back in your seat, you reach across and rest your hand atop Tim’s free hand, smiling as you watch him press a gentle kiss atop Mia’s head.

As you watched Tim interacting with Mia, you were filled with overwhelming gratitude that Tim was okay. He was so important to you and Mia and you dreaded the mere thought of him not being around anymore. But he was alive and healthy, and you knew that he would not let anything get in between him and his family.

He’d always make his way home to you.

[clairedaring]

Plot Spoilers of GMMTV 2024 - Part 2 Series

So GMMTV accidentally???? intentionally??? spoiled the detailed plots to most of their 2024 part 2 lineup series through their public pamphlet at the Busan International Film Festival. So I'm just making this post to compile them.

WARNING: MAJOR ENDING SPOILERS

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

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okay enough warning. now you're on your own.

The Heart Killers

A cool tattooist who works as a spy for the police is assigned to investigate brutal gunman brothers, so he tries to flirt with the younger one to dig up their information. When his attempt is interfered with by the older brother, the tattooist has to find someone to get rid of him, someone to hit on the scary-looking gunman. He then enlists the help of his handsome friend to join in his mission to win the gunman brothers' hearts and start a new life with a clean slate.

This is a story about Kant (First Kanaphan), a handsome and talented tattooist who is part-time a police spy and part-time charming playboy. One day, he meets an attractive man at a bowling alley and has the best one-night stand of his life, only to wake up and find that the guy has disappeared without leaving him his number. All Kant can think about is that passionate night. Later, he gets assigned a new mission to Investigate two killers wanted by the police. Whether it's good or bad luck, one of them turns out to be his hot one-night stand. Kant doesn't want to do it, but the captain makes him an offer he can't say no- to clean up his criminal record of past car theft.

Kant does some research and learns that the two assassins live undercover as hamburger shop owners. He goes to have a meal there and sees Bison (Khaotung Thanawat), the man he has slept with that night. A spark happens between them and Kant starts making a move on Bison to find out who is behind everything. Even though Bison feels something for Kant, they face a big obstacle in the name of Fadel (Joong Archen), Bison's big brother who worries about his safety. Because Fadel doesn't want Bison to bond with anyone and he doesn't trust Kant, he tries to stop the two from getting together. Bison wants to start a relationship with Kant, so he suggests finding Fadel a partner to distract him, but the problem is, who would dare hit on Fadel? Kant thinks of his gorgeous and charming best friend named Style (Dunk Natachai) who is a real pain in the neck and not afraid of anything. Style is a car mechanic who has once rear-ended Fadel's car and gotten into a fight with him. Kant promises Style his car that the latter has eyes on if he can win Fadel's heart. Style says yes to the deal and begins pursuing Fadel immediately with the knowledge of Fadel's daily routines that Kant receives from Bison and forwards to him. Style persistently chases after Fadel, doing everything he can to insert himself into his life. Fadel is annoyed but secretly likes that Style is not afraid of him like the others.

While his fake relationship is going well, Kant has to finish his mission of spying on the killers. He discovers that the mastermind is Madam Lily, mother of Fadel and Bison who has adopted the two from an orphanage and trained them to be killers. Later when the two brothers make mistakes in their mission and cause some information to leak out, Bison starts doubting Kant and finds out that he's a police spy. Bison tells Fadel what he learns and the big brother is furious because he has fallen in love with Style. Bison himself also feels so angry and betrayed that he takes Kant away to kill him. Meanwhile, Fadel has to search for his younger brother as both of them are being hunted by Keen (Pepper Phanuroj), Madam Lily's other adopted child who has been jealous that the two get big assignments. Now he gets an order to kill them because they have screwed up. Fadel threatens Style to follow him and help him look for Bison. The two run for their lives and get closer, feeling both love and hatred for each other. In the end, Bison can't bring himself to kill Kant so he lets him go. However, Kant has real feelings for Bison so he refuses to leave and wants to help him get a normal life. When Fadel and Style find Bison and Kant, they tell them the truth about Madam Lily. The two brothers want revenge, but Kant and Style don't want them to kill anyone anymore, worrying something bad might happen to them. Kant and Style propose that the four of them steal Madam Lily's money and run away together. They kickstart the stealing plan by having Kant and Style enter an event by disguising themselves as waiters and escorts. They find their way to Madam Lily, catch her, demand her to open her safe, and then take something important from her. The whole gang manages to steal big cash and runs away together without killing a single soul.

Ultimately, Kant fails to clear his criminal record but he doesn't care anymore. Now he shares a new dream with Bison. The two run away to another country together while Fadel and Style decide to stay and continue running the restaurant. They're not afraid of the big boss' influence because they have taken records of Madam Lily's illegal activities to ensure that they will be able to live a normal life without anyone bothering them ever again.

Ossan's Love Thailand

The messy love story begins when Heng, a bachelor working in a real estate company whose love life is as hopeless as his work life, stumbles upon his own photos on the phone and computer of branch manager Kongdech, aka his boss. Heng certainly finds this behavior strange, and all the stranger considering that his boss has been married for 30 years.

Meanwhile, Kongdech's daughter has been trying to set her single father up for a match for years after her mother died. She finds out that her father might be in love with someone, and a little investigation leads her to believe that it is someone from the company. She then asks Heng to help her find out who the lucky girl is, only to learn that it is Heng himself who has stolen her father's heart! She is definitely taken aback at first, but after gaining her composure, she puts her whole heart into rooting for her father and hoping for the best for his new love.

When Kongdech finally confesses his love, it sends shock through Heng's world who has never liked men before, and it doesn't help either that this confession comes from none other than his amazing boss. As if things aren't confusing enough as it is, his new colleague and roommate, Mo, also falls in love with him. Heng finds himself in a messy situation, with two men fighting to win his heart. But after living together under the same roof, proximity makes him choose Mo and decides to live together as lovers.

The two men start dating, and all the while Mo realizes that Heng has never had a lover before, let alone a male one at that. But while things are looking up, Chicha, Heng's female childhood friend, confesses her love to him. Mo, who happens to hear the conversation, resolves to himself that maybe Heng actually wants to date women and have the perfect family he has always dreamed of, Mo decides to break up with him and leaves the house, ending their relationship. But instead of a new girlfriend, Heng finds comfort in none other than Kongdech, his own boss, who has slowly taken Mo's place at home, never letting Heng lift a finger around the house. They may be dating now, but Kongdech knows deep down that Heng still has feelings for Mo. On the eve of their wedding, Kongdech finally makes Heng realize just whom his heart actually belongs to. Heng leaves the wedding immediately, running to find Mo who he truly falls for.

Us The Series

Dokrak is an 18-year-old who decides to take a gap year after finishing high school to find herself. She has a part-time job at a coworking space coffee shop called "Cuf & Co." It's here that she crosses paths with Pam, a 22-year-old dentistry student, who is a regular at this cafe to hit the books. Dokrak gets to know Pam and develops a secret crush on her, until Kawee, her 24-year-old biological brother and a medical student, meets Pam by chance and falls for her at first sight. Kawee turns to Dokrak, asking her to play matchmaker. Because Dokrak really loves her brother and wants to see him happy, she agrees to help. Dokrak begins the mission of helping her brother to hit on a beautiful woman like Pam. She coaches him on wooing Pam with different techniques, including taking care of her, flirting with romantic words, and writing a love letter, but as time passes, she finds herself unable to ignore her growing feelings for Pam because of their intimacy. Even Dokrak realizes it, she has already fallen for Pam. Eventually, Pam agrees to date Kawee, so Dokrak must keep her feelings hidden, knowing she can't fall for her "brother's girlfriend."

But as Pam and Kawee's relationship progresses, they encounter challenges due to Pam's reluctance to engage in physical intimacy, such as touching, kissing, and making love. This is stemming from her past trauma as her high school ex-boyfriend once harassed her. This trauma is the reason Pam doesn't like physical touch. One day, Pam discovers that Kawee sleeps with another woman. In the end, Dokrak advises her to break up with Kawee.

Kawee explains that it's just physical cheating, which results from Pam refusing physical intimacy with him. Despite his insistence that Pam is the only one he loves, Pam is deeply disappointed in him. Pam turns to Dokrak for some advice, asking how she should handle it and whether she should give Kawee another chance. On the one hand, Dokrak doesn't want Pam to break up with her brother, but, on the other hand, she feels a good person like Pam deserves better.

Dokrak regrets giving her that advice because after Pam asks for a break up, she disappears from both Kawee and Dorrak's lives. Kawee feels really heartbroken, remaining unable to move on and desperately wanting Pam back. Meanwhile, Dokrak misses Pam, her favorite sister, a lot, hoping for a future reunion with her one day.

After several months, Pam reappears at Cuf & Co, providing Dokrak an opportunity to reconnect after having lost touch for so long. They become close again as Pam generously offers to tutor Dokrak, who plans to take a university entrance exam the following year. Meanwhile, Eak, the 27- year-old owner of Cuf & Co, who has had a crush on Pam all along, notices a close relationship between Dokrak and Pam, so he asks her to act as a matchmaker between him and Pam. Simultaneously, Peem, a 23-year-old barista known for his kindness and good looks, confesses his feelings to Dokrak.

Dokrak and Pam both have feelings for each other, but Dokrak chooses to keep them hidden because she doesn't dare to and is, deep inside, burdened by guilt over his brother's situation. Meanwhile, Pam is confused about her actual feelings for Dokrak. In the midst of her confusion, Pam decides to embark on a relationship with a tomboy named Oat, who is about the same age, hoping to clarify her feelings towards women. However, Pam eventually realizes that she has no feelings for Oat, but her affections lie solely with...Dokrak.

Acknowledging her feelings, Pam straightforwardly confesses to Dokrak, leading them to start a romantic relationship together. Pam and Dokrak both enjoy a period of happiness until Kawee discovers their relationship. Kawee seems very hurt and disappointed. Stricken with guilt and remorse for causing her brother pain, Dokrak decides to end her relationship with Pam.

Following Dokrak's decision to end their relationship, Pam disappears from her life again, leaving Dokrak seriously in pain. Witnessing his sister in misery, Kawee is filled with guilt, recognizing he's the one causing her sorrow. Eventually, Kawee manages to get over Pam. He urges Dokrak to follow what her heart desires, telling her that he supports her love because he wants his sister to be happy with the person she loves. Dokrak tries her best to win Pam's heart again, and, finally, their love is fulfilled. Pam and Dokrak now have courage to love each other.

Perfect 10 Liners

The chaotic university saga kicks off as Arm (Book Kasidet) realizes his lifelong dream of being accepted into the Faculty of Engineering. However, his moment of triumph is quickly overshadowed by mayhem. As part of a customary ritual, first-year students draw lots to determine their higher-year peer mentors. By a stroke of fate, Arm lands himself into the exclusive circle of the 'Divine Peers,' a group comprising extraordinary students from various years, with Yeepun, a captivating female student, as his second-year peer mentor. To further complicate matters, Yeepun entrusts him with the formidable task of managing the Engineer Cute Boy page, a widely popular online platform.

Despite his reluctance, Arm performs admirably as the page administrator. In response to many fans' requests, he uploads a photo of 'Ark' (Force Jiratchapong), a third-year Civil Engineering student, unaware of the prohibition against doing so, as Ark vehemently objects to such actions. Not knowing the admin's identity, Ark sends a harsh message demanding the photo be deleted. Arm immediately detests Ark's rudeness and develops a dislike for the man. Little does he know, Ark is one of the 'Divine Peers, and to make matters worse, his third-year peer mentor. Despite his reservations, Arm finds himself occasionally Interacting with Ark, not only because of their mentorship but also because many people seek Arm's assistance to connect with the blunt and private Ark.

What Arm does not know is that he is in Ark's inner circle because Ark wants him to. Ark, smitten with Arm at first sight, secretly cares for him and endeavors to better himself to become a suitable match for Arm. Despite his typically hot-headed nature and penchant for risk-taking, Ark restrains himself out of fear of endangering Arm. Meanwhile, Arm remains oblivious to Ark's feelings, Amidst the chaos and many headaches, Arm gradually begins to understand his own heart. Before they realize it, their relationship evolves from peer mentor and peer mentee to boyfriends.

On the first day of university life, disaster strikes hard for Gun (Chimon Wachirawit (t/n: Chimon has now been replaced with Santa Pongsapak). As hapless as he is, Gun accidentally breaks a bathroom faucet and finds himself soaked like a puppy. With a stroke of luck, one classmate comes to his rescue. However, amidst the chaos, Gun is too preoccupied to get a good look at the person's face, only catching a glimpse of their shoes. As he tries to navigate his new surroundings and classmates, Gun is determined to find the one who saved him from the bathroom mishap. Eventually, he tracks down Faifa (Junior Panachai) and expresses his gratitude, unaware that Faifa knows nothing of the incident. As they get to know each other, Gun realizes that it was actually Yotha (Perth Tanapon), Faifa's older Irish twin, who wears identical shoes, that he should be thanking. Despite being siblings, their personalities couldn't be more different. Faifa is friendly and approachable, while Yotha exudes an air of mystery, as if harboring secrets.

Gun suffers from a health issue: he can't sleep in darkness due to an unfortunate childhood incident. This becomes problematic when he shares an on-campus dorm with a roommate who can't tolerate sleeping with the lights on. Yotha, however, has no such issue and offers to switch places with Gun's roommate, as he rarely returns to the dorm at night. Yotha keeps his promise, disappearing after dark and returning in the morning. Gun is suspicious of Yotha's nocturnal activities; rumors swirl, suggesting he's mingling with girls or involved in illicit activities. Gun attempts to confront Yotha about it, but Yotha always avoids the subject.

Yotha is fearful of love, disappointment, and loss. He does not want to lose his mother, as he did with his father. He does not want to be abandoned as his ex-lover did to him. He does not want to see anyone betrayed by their love. So he chooses to become a third wheel in people's relationships, encouraging one party to cheat in the hopes that his actions help the person being cheated on recognize the truth sooner. He frequently gets into disputes and is beaten up by the boyfriends of the girls he charms.

As Gun and Yotha grow closer, they gradually learn more about each other. Yet, when Yotha realizes he's on the brink of falling in love, fear of loss resurfaces, prompting him to withdraw. However, with time, Yotha learns that love isn't always cruel, and Gunyukol is a risk worth taking again.

Wine (Mark Jiruntanin) becomes the latest member of the 'Divine Peers' through the lucky draw. Yotha, Wine's second-year peer mentor, is preoccupied with his boyfriend, leaving him with little time for his mentee. Stepping in, Faifa (Junior Panachai), a remarkably friendly second-year student, takes over the role and looks after his older brother's mentee.

Faifa learns that Wine recently ended his relationship with Toey, his girlfriend from before university, after developing feelings for Tor, Toey's older brother. To avoid further guilt towards Toey, Wine opted for an amicable breakup. Now with Tor's recent coming out as a man attracted to men, Wine feels hopeful but unsure about approaching him. Faifa offers his assistance, volunteering to serve as Wine's practice ground, allowing Wine to hone his approach before making a move on Tor.

From their close interaction, feelings unexpectedly blossom. Faifa finds himself genuinely falling for Wine but hesitates to reveal the emotions, fearing it might disrupt his role as Wine's coach in pursuing Tor. Meanwhile, Wine also develops affection for Faifa, though Faifa's naturally over-friendly demeanor leaves him uncertain about his own significance to Faifa.

Faifa nearly loses Wine before they both muster the courage to confess their feelings. In a bold move, Faifa, who has never been truly committed to anyone, changes his approach for Wine, abandoning his flirtatious ways and prioritizing Wine above all else. In turn, Wine becomes Faifa's singular focus, capturing Faifa's heart like no one else ever has.

Sweet Tooth, Good Dentist

Sont is a marketing student who has been single for far too long. One day, per the recommendation of his student mentor, Sont goes on a date with Jamie or Jay, an older dentistry student. But no matter how impressed Sont is by their first meeting, he can't bring himself to like some aspect of Jay's personality, especially his tendency to be a little bit narcissistic. Sont decides to not take this relationship further, and the two have been apart ever since.

Two years later, Sont is now studying in his third year and working his butt off to make his TikTok account go viral. "Sleepy Eater, Hungry Sleeper" is a two-year-old channel of his with barely more than 600 followers. His main content is food ASMR that stems from his love of desserts and snacks. Whatever dessert it is he's eating in the stream, Sont will gulp it down within minutes. He even gets snacks from his sponsors sometimes.

One day, while Sont is streaming, his toothache gets so bad that he has to stop. His best friend/roomate like Guck then has to urge him to see a dentist since this isn't the first time it happens, and not likely the last. Pestered by the pain in his tooth, Sont finally has to go to a dentist, and finds out that his mouth is no better than a dental battlefield that needs teeth cleaning, filling, and even some root canal treatment that would cost him quite a fortune. Being nearly broke as he is, Sont clearly can't afford it. That's when his dentist recommends being a case study patient for dentistry students, where they treat his dental problems for free.

The next month, Sont has become a complete case for Dr. Ming, a fifth year dentistry student. This brings him face- to-face with Ming's assistant dentist, Jay, who Sont hasn't seen since their last date. The two years have changed Jay in some ways, but Sont notices that his narcissistic tendency remains intact. Sont thinks he will never see Jay again after the treatment, but as fate would have it, Jay's family happens to own the building Sont lives in, and since the convenience store downstairs is short-staffed, Jay is now filling in as a part-timer. Now every time Sont wants to buy the snacks he craves, he has a dentist-in- training stopping him from ruining his teeth further. Jay truly is the destroyer of joy to Sont now.

Even though he's making some money from his ASMR channel, it still isn't enough to make ends meet. Sont decides to get a job at Craft Cake where he meets his new boss, Captain, an old friend of Jay who has quit his job and opened his own business. Sont has come at the right time and helped the business gain some recognition. All this while, Sont keeps running into his boss' friends like Ming and Jay who somehow always show up at the place much more often than Sont would like.

What amazes Sont is that, the more he gets to spend time with Jay, the more he sees who Jay really is. Now someone he once discarded has taken a special place in his heart. Even the narcissistic tendency now seems like a cute and silly streak. Meanwhile, Jay seems to be very private with his feelings to Sont, unlike Captain, who has been more and more obvious that he's into Sont. And as Sont moves closer to Captain, a part of him wonders if Jay still has feelings for him like two years before. He doesn't want to risk what they have now by asking, and in the end just waits for someone to be the braver person and finally asks if what they are is more than just friends.

The Ex-Morning

Pathaphee or Phee is a famous news anchor of Good Day Thailand. He is a rising star in journalism. With his bright and lively personality, he is beloved by the public. But his life turns upside down when the video of his abusive behaviors towards his co-anchor is leaked to the public. His co-anchor is injured in the incident. From a rising star, he turns into a falling star.

Pathaphee is suspended from work. He has to sell his luxurious car. He tries to get a job at other news agencies but no one wants to work with him. Due to a trauma, he has a panic attack and is unable to do a live news report from the field. Luckily, he still has Young, an exclusive news editor who has adored and been close with him since he was an intern. Young gives Pathaphee a chance to work with a talented producer who holds an overseas degree on a new show. Pathaphee feels blessed for the second chance that he gets. He is relieved that at least a good thing comes out of this turmoil. But as soon as he meets the producer, he is not sure if this chance is really a blessing. The producer is Tamtawan, his ex-boyfriend. Their breakup was so terrible that Pathaphee developed an anxiety disorder after that. He still suffers from it even now. He knows that the person who is supposed to be his savior can end his career for good.

Pathaphee and Tamtawan were dating when they were in college. Tamtawan was his senior at the faculty of journalism. They were competing in everything they did. However, they had a promise that Tamtawan would support Pathaphee's dream to be a news reporter. On the day that Pathaphee had an audition for a news reporter position at a major news agency. In the audition, he needed to give a live field report and the judges would watch it. While he was reporting news, Tamtawan's breakup message was among the keywords for the news report that the creative sent him. Moreover, his news reporting was interrupted by a group of local mafia. His news reporting ended in a disaster. He was eliminated.

Pathaphee wanted to know the reason why Tamtawan broke up with him. But the truth he found out that he stole his critique of journalism and used it to apply for a scholarship at an overseas university. He was accepted to the university because of his work. He decided to dump him.

Pathaphee worked hard and achieved his dream of being a news reporter. He loathes Tamtawan more than anything in this world. But now he is so desperate that he has no other choice but to work with Tamtawan under one condition. Tamtawan needs to help him regain his followers. He must have ten million followers in the next three months. If he fails, he needs to resign from the news agency. If he refuses his offer, he will expose that he stole his work which helped him get his scholarship.

Tamtawan dislikes Pathaphee but he thinks his offer is challenging and interesting. He accepts his offer but he also has a condition. If he successfully helps him regain his followers, he needs to apologize to him and call him "Master" for three months.

Pathaphee and Tamtawan work together as a news reporter and a producer. Their past has a major influence on the dynamic of their current relationship. Though they always a way to tease each other, flirting can also be seen between them. As they are chasing the truth, they become close. Physical touches, that accidentally occur while they are working together, reignite the spark between them. Their relationship is like unpredictable weather. It's confusing but also intriguing.

Tamtawan does not come back for his work. He has a hidden mission to help the man he cares for. He comes back to find the mafia who exposed the video that destroyed Pathaphee's reputation and put his life in danger. The ex-lovers need to work together to find the real criminal behind their case and their true feelings for each other. Will the flame in their hearts change them? Will they learn about the change together?

Revamp: The Undead Story

Punn (Prem Warut), a 24-year-old antique shop owner, is enlisted by his gallery-owning friend to restore a painting vandalized under mysterious circumstances one night. During the restoration process, Punn accidentally injures himself on a shard of mirror, inadvertently staining the artwork with his blood. This act awakens Ramil (Boun Noppanut), the last descendant of a vampire lineage, trapped within the painting for over a century. However, Ramil emerges powerless and becomes the target of relentless pursuit by the "Hunters." Tasked with aiding Ramil in reclaiming his lost powers, Punn embarks on a journey to locate Ramil's former servants, now living discreetly among humans. As they collaborate, a deep bond forms between Punn and Ramil, blossoming into love and trust. Yet, their relationship is tested when Ramil's enigmatic past becomes intertwined with Punn's own mysterious background, seemingly orchestrated by an external force. Together, they confront their doubts and fears, striving to overcome adversities before reaching their ultimate destinies.

Thame - Po (เธม-โป้) HEART THAT SKIPS A BEAT

In need of a job, 'Po' finds himself accepting an offer to make a documentary about a boy band "Mars" to make ends meet. Only he doesn't know he's not making a documentary about their success, but their disbanding, due to the leader of the band 'Thame' on the verge of signing a new contract in South Korea.

Filming Mars makes Po realize that, even with all the internal conflicts, Thame never wants to leave. And the only way to save this band is for Po to smooth out any misunderstandings between the members and Thame.

This mission to make all five members of Mars stay together has now become the backdrop of the beginning of love between Thame and Po. And Po will have to realize that dating an idol is no child play at all!

Hide & Sis

Chatfah, the youngest sister of the Buppajinda family, has just received the most share of the inheritance from her father and is about to get married. Unfortunately, Chatfah falls from the highest floor of a vacation home to her three older sisters' shocked eyes before her body disappears. The three sisters namely Baibua, Chompoo, and Picha become suspects in Chatfah's disappearance.

Baibua Boontharika is the eldest sister who is composed, wise, and has always sacrificed for her family. Chompoo Chompoonuch, the second sister, is a beautiful and confident model whose boyfriend Chatfah has stolen to get married to. The third sister, Putpichaya is a jewelry designer who is the closest to Chatfah. The three girls try to find Chatfah while a lot of mysterious things happen after their youngest sister goes missing. Putpichaya gets so violently ambushed that she almost dies. Chompoonuch falls from grace due to a rumor that she has killed her sister out of anger after she has stolen her lover to marry him. Boontharika struggles with managing her company because of the gossip and accusation that the flowers there have a curse of death!

When no one else can be trusted, the three sisters must try to trust each other. They move back to live in Buppajinda Mansion like in their childhood days to find out who is behind Chatfah's disappearance, which could very well be one of them. But what's waiting for them at the mysterious mansion is not only the truth about Chatfah's disappearance but also stories that have been hidden since the past - the rift between siblings caused by dishonesty and deceit in their parents' generation leading the girls to turn enemies and hurt each other. Eventually, the three girls discover the truth of more than one real culprit in the Buppajinda Mansion. The red color of the flowers is then no longer the color of blood, death, or curse.

Leap Day

Legend has it that male infants who are born at noon and at midnight on February 29 of a leap are destined to bring misfortune upon each other.

On February 29, 2000, at 00.00 AM, a baby boy called Midnight comes into the world, losing his mother due to a hemorrhage. This similar incident occurs again at 12.00 PM on the same day when another baby boy called Day is born.

Four years later, Day unexpectedly loses his dad in an accident, while Night's dad passes away because of cancer. Since then, their lives encounter recurring losses every four years. These losses take different forms, ranging from one losing the relative, whom he has taken care of as a result of a major car crash on the highway to the other losing the person who has taken care of him after being caught in the crossfire in the frightening shooting rampage, and so on. Every loss they endure occurs on February 29!!

Those around them start to feel scared and try to push Day and Night away because they don't want to be victims of the supposed curse. Night and Day grow up in isolation without bonding with or loving anyone until Night meets Dream, the girl who steps into his life and brings light into it. Dream turns into the only happiness he has in life.

Meanwhile, Day finds himself suddenly tasked with caring for Ozone, an autistic boy, who is the son of his elder sister, a distant relative of his. She dies in a tour bus overturned accident. At first, Ozone doesn't approve of him and doesn't open up to him because he believes Day is the reason for his mom's death. However, with effort and dedication in taking care of him, Ozone finally accepts him and starts to bond. At the same time, the relationship between Night and Dream keeps growing stronger.

As their 20th birthdays approach, both Day and Night fear of losing their loved ones. Night tries to break up with Dream, but she refuses to, while Day follows Ozone everywhere. Finally, their birthdays arrive. Ozone feels uncomfortable because Day keeps following him everywhere, so he tries to run away, crossing the road while Dream and Night's car is rushing in fast. Dream still doesn't understand why Night wants to break up with her. They are busily arguing, so they fail to notice Ozone. It's too late when they see him. Ozone is hit by their car and is so severely injured that he falls to the ground. The car then crashes into an electric post. Dream immediately passes out. Their injuries are both so severe that it seems they won't survive, but that year, it turns out they are safe. Nobody dies.

Friendshit Forever

"You're like a sister to me. You're my best friend," is what Baikhao says to Tulip not long after they first met, before both of their worlds turn upside down.

Tulip and Baikhao are supposed to be the best of friends. Their friendship looks beautiful from afar, but up close, it's ridden with envy and the tight grip of past grudges that won't let them go.

Parents make mistakes just like any other human being. It is only too bad that children must inherit those sins.

Baikhao befriends Tulip with the intention to take revenge for what Tulip's father did to her. She won't stop until justice is served for her father who killed himself and her mother who went insane after losing her younger sibling in a miscarriage. And for this sole purpose, Tulip will be used as a tool to destroy her own family.

Baikhao has help in the form of high school friend Tao, who has had a crush on her all these years and will do anything for her, including killing.

While Tulip has Namo, a classmate in the same major she mistakes for being gay, but is actually in love with her. Namo sticks around to protect her from harm. He may not be a match for her in terms of social standing, but whatever concerns Tulip, Namo is willing to put his life on the line for, and he must save Tulip from Baikhao's vile plan.

But revenge never ends well, if not straight up tragic, especially between two "best friends."

The Dark Dice

Samut, a senior in high school, is an academic achiever. He is a representative of his school competing in academic contests. But his bright future vanishes after he is involved in an altercation. He is expelled from school. He is transferred to a new school. Because of the trauma, he loses his passion for school.

Samut finds an ancient dice which brings him and seven other students into a mysterious board game. The eight students are competing, outsmarting, and backstabbing each other to stay alive in this mysterious game. Their lives are at stake. The only way to get out of the game is by defeating other contestants.

Break Up Service

Boss is a man who is destined to ruin other people's relationships. He works for Break-Up Service, a company that helps people break up with their partners. Boss meets Juet, a penniless woman who comes to apply for a job at his company. She is assigned to be his work partner. Boss prefers to go solo when he works. He keeps picking on Juet in hopes that she will resign. No matter how Boss tries to provoke her, she endures them all. She proves her worth again and again by successfully completing her tasks to break up couples.

The rookie and the veteran are working together to destroy other people's romance. Before Boss realizes, he has fallen in love with his partner.

Scarlet Heart Thailand

Nabun is a hair stylist who's on her luck slump. She's just lost her job, her life is ruined and her boyfriend cheated on her. Nabun needed an escape to Chiangmai to put her heart back together. While in the hot spring, Nabun has an intrusive thought that life can't simply be altered. Suddenly, Nabun drowns in the hot spring. After struggling against death, saved by miracle or destiny, Nabun rises in the middle of a private hot spring with naked princes who are enjoying their hot spring as well. The princes jolt to find a strange woman popping up from the hot spring. Nabun runs for her life and is shocked to find herself in the body of Chao Laila, a sickly young lady of Chiang Rung, a mysterious Lanna Kingdom dating back 300 years ago.

Nabun in Princess Laila's body has to adapt to survive in the ancient regime days. She finds herself struggling both in survival and love. Nabun meets Chao Saen Thep, her sister's fiance. Chao Saen Thep is kind to Nabun which is the opposite of Chao Mueang Fah who's stern. Nabun also meets Chao Chai Kaew, Chao Kong Thai, Chao Chom Harn, and Chao Fah Kram who all find Nabun mesmerizing as she dares think and speak differently from the other girls. Nabun brings new colors to Chiang Rung.

In the regime's grand ceremony, the crown prince is the target of assassination but Chao Mueang Fah plots a switch up and gets himself hurt as a result. Chao Mueang Fah investigates the case and finds that his mother and older brother are part of the assassination plot as Chao Chai Kaew has been aiming for the crown prince post. Naboon knows that Chao Mueang Fah is the parasite of the family as his hair has turned white ever since he was young. Everyone despises Chao Mueang Fah except Chao Hong Kham, the beautiful princess who secretly has a crush on Chao Mueang Fah but never dares reveal her heart.

Nabun becomes the center of attention of all the princes. Chao Saen Thep falls for Nabun even when he has a fiance. Chao Mueang Fah knows that Chao Saen Thep will bring troubles for Nabun so Chao Mueang Fah challenges his sibling for a boxing match to announce that Princess Laila is his. Nabun argues that she has her own life, this is because she doesn't know that Chao Mueang Fah is trying to protest her from getting bullied by Chao Hong Kham. Chao Mueang Fah is hoping to pull Nabun out of Chao Saen Thep's forbidden love.

Naboon owes her life to Chao Mueang Fah, has Chao Saen Thep as the owner of her heart, Chao Kong Thai as her advisor, Chao Chom Harn as a brother who can risk his life for her, and Chao Fah Kram as her best friend. Nabun is secretly rooting for Bua Sai, a royal dancer to win over Chao Fah Kram's heart. Chao Fah Kram whose love cuts the social hierarchy has to hide his relationship as Bua Sai could die if anyone finds out. The war of love situates itself amid the war of power. In the oath-giving ceremony, the king is poisoned and Nabun is held into custody as she works in the food preparation part for the king. Chao Saen Thep investigates and finds out that this is a conspiracy between Chao Hong Kham and Maha Dhevi (the queen). Nabun is sentenced to death while Chao Mueang Fah is trying to confirm her innocence and help Nabun out in all the ways he can. Chao Saen Thep decides to keep quiet instead of fighting for the one he loves. Nabun slips out of death when someone decides to give themselves in. Chao Mueang Fah takes Nabun to a house on the mountain to escape the chaos. Nabun gets closer to Chao Mueang Fah and realizes that behind his stern exterior is love and unconditional care.

In the ceremony to beg the gods for rain, everyone is surprised to find the black-haired Chao Mueng Fah as the one who conducts the ceremony until the rain comes. No one knows that Nabun helps Chao Mueng Fah to achieve slick black hair as well as calculate the date and time rain would come. Chao Mueng Fah becomes a rival that Chao Chai Kaew deems to get rid of regardless that he's his family. Chao Saen Thep is also hiding the rivalry against Chao Mueng Fah under the cover of a good guy. Chao Mueang Fah is sent on a diplomatic mission at Wiang Merng Marng to have Chao Pha Wiang, a cousin, kill him.

Chao Chai Kaew stirs up a rebellion but Chao Mueang Fah stops him. Chao Meung Fah stabs his brother and Chao Chai Kaew falls off the cliff. Not long after Chao Yod Lah steps up as a king, Chao Chai Kaew is not dead yet and he comes back for the throne. Chao Chai Kaew takes Nabun as hostage which forces Chao Mueang Fah to give in to save his lover's life. He reluctantly accepts when his brother steps up as the next king.

Nabun has a nightmare of Chao Mueng Fah killing Chao Kong Thai. She fears that there will be a blood bath among siblings. The king, Chai Kaew fears being dethroned to the extent that he goes crazy. He orders to have Nam Nang, a daughter of an army leader and the lover of Chao Kong Thai killed. Chao Kong Thai begs Chao Mueang Fe to kill him for he wants to die with his wife. Chao Mueang Fah has to kill his younger brother in tears. Nabun is shocked to see Chao Mueng Fah's body soaked with blood just like in her nightmare and there are lots of people who have to die because of him.

Chao Chai Kaew, as the king, rules the regime with terror to the extent that he is drugged to death in front of Chao Mueang Fah. Chao Mueang Fah ascends to the throne as the king and Nabun is the only person who knows this secret. Chao Mueang Fah speeds up his marriage with Nabun which gives Chao Saen Thep an excuse to get in the way. He holds it against them that it is against the royal family's conduct as Chao Laila does not hold the direct royal bloodline. Chao Saen Thep appoints Chao Hong Kham as the queen instead.

Chao Chom Harn couldn't stand seeing Nabun being devastated so he shows the paper from the previous king which states that he is allowed to marry Chao Laila. Chao Mueang Fah refuses to let Chao Chom Harn take Nabun away from the royal palace but Chao Chom Harn uses his power as the army leader to hide Nabun far away from King Mueang Fah.

Chao Fah Kram decides the give up his posts to live a simple life with his true love, Bua Sai. Nabun gets sick from Chao Laila's existing chronic illness, she's waiting for Chao Mueang Fah with depleting breaths. Chao Mueang Fah appears in front of her and Nabun wonders "Is this the truth... or a dream?". Nabun passes away in the arms of the man she loves with all her life. The sound of Chao Mueang Fah crying echoes in her mind.

In Chiangmai, Nabun miraculously wakes up. She became a famous influencer from her content about the Chiang Rung regime in an exhibition called "Chiang Rung, a mysterious regime waiting to be discovered". Nabun's heart beats fast when her eyes meet with a royal family descendant who's the owner of the exhibition, Mueang Fah, who's wearing a suit. He pulls Nabun in for a kiss and asks her, "Do you remember? You once said that lives can't be changed that simply except for dying and being rebom." Nabun hugs Mueang Fah and she realizes that everything isn't a dream but the destiny's twist of fate, one where they are ready to hold hands and embark on it together once again and forever.

[janeyseymour]

She Didn't, But Melissa Did- part 1

HEY BITCHES REMEMBER HOW I SAID THERE WAS A POSSIBILITY OF "SAVE ME BEFORE I LOSE MYSELF" CONTINUING ON?? YEAH- IT'S HERE. HERE WE GO.

Save Me Before I Lose Myself- Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9.

Summary: Carrie didn't do a lot of things. But what Carrie didn't do, Melissa did with ease.

WC: ~2.7k

Millie is all grown up. She’s nearing thirty, she’s happily married with a little girl of her own. And yet, Millie still chose to keep her last name- your last name now too. Legally, Millie is Amelia Marie Schemmenti. She’s stopping by your house to visit you and her step-mother.

“It feels like it’s been forever since we saw Mill,” your wife chuckles from her place next to you on the couch.

“What are you talking about, Mel?” you laugh as you playfully swat at her leg. “She came by last week with Hadley.”

“To drop Had off so she could run to work,” Melissa sighs. “She wouldn’t even stay for dinner ‘cause Noah was home and gettin’ ready to make dinner.”

“Well, you know how it is,” you tell her. “Hubby’s home and cookin’ dinner. What was she supposed to do?”

“Tell Noah to get his ass over here so I could cook for everyone,” the redhead rolls her eyes. “He hadn’t even started yet!”

“Well, they’ll both be here today, and I’m sure you can convince Mills to stay for dinner. You know how our daughter still prefers your cooking to anyone else’s.”

“You’re damn right she does,” the retired teacher sighs. “And she should. My cookin’ could put anyone else’s to shame.”

“I don’t know,” you drawl out. “Millie’s a pretty good cook herself.”

“Yeah,” your wife huffs. “And who taught her?”

“That would be you, my dear.”

There’s a knock on your door as your wife and you are waiting for your daughter and her family to stop by, and then they’re entering the house and kicking off their shoes. Well, Millie and Noah take their shoes off before entering. Hadley couldn’t care less and runs as fast as her little legs will take her to join you and Melissa on the couch.

“Hadley girl!” Melissa grins as she lifts the four year old up into her lap and peppers her face in kisses.

“Nonna!” the little girl giggles. “That tickles!” It takes a few more seconds before your wife lets up, and your granddaughter launches herself at you, eager for hugs.

“Mommom!” Hadley squeals and plants a sloppy kiss to your face. 

Millie and her husband both approach the couch with smiles on their faces. Noah greets you warmly with hugs and kisses to the cheeks, expressing how nice it is to see you. And Millie lights up at the two of you- it’s like she’s seven all over again, just a little girl with so much love in her heart.

“Momma,” your daughter grins as she leans into your embrace over her daughter. Then she reaches for Melissa. “Hey, Ma.”

“You’re stayin’ for dinner this time, right?” is all your wife asks as she hugs your daughter tightly, pressing a kiss to her head.

“Yeah, Ma,” Millie laughs. “We’re staying for dinner.”

“Good,” Melissa smiles with a sharp nod of her head. “I’m makin’ chili.”

“Oh hell yeah!” Noah grins.

While Hadley settles herself on the floor surrounded by the toys that you and your wife keep around the house for her, you, your wife, your daughter, and her husband all begin to catch up on life. They tell you how much their little girl has been growing before their eyes, to which you respond that it feels like just yesterday Millie was Hadley’s age. Noah tells your wife about the renovations he’s been making on their house; your wife makes sure to put in that she’s more than willing to call a guy to help him for free. You and Melissa tell them about the trip that you had taken over the weekend to the Poconos to relax. And then the topic of their jobs comes up. Noah is a highly respected business man who has much success. His success only continues to grow, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he told you he was Senior Manager of the company within the next few years. And Millie is a journalist for the Philadelphia Inquirer.

“That’s actually why we’re here today,” your daughter says, and you can tell she’s nervous with the way she’s fiddling with her fingers- a habit she’s picked up from you.

“You need a reason to visit us now?” You raise a brow. “And here I thought us being your mothers was a good enough reason to come visit us with our beautiful grandbaby.”

Hadley’s eyes light up at the mention of her, and she picks her favorite stuffed animal on the floor before setting in on your lap.

“Well, no,” your daughter bites her lip. “But we- I came to show you a piece I’ve been working on. My boss wants me to publish it, but I wanted to run it by you first, Ma.”

“Me?” Melissa points to herself as her brows furrow. Her head cocks slightly to the side in confusion.

“Y-yeah,” Millie shrugs.

“Hun,” Noah reaches over to rub his wife’s back soothingly. “We talked about this. It’s okay- we both think she’ll like it.”

“I-” the usually confident and bright woman fades into a shy and insecure one right in front of you. “Uh… yeah. Yeah. I wrote it, and I brought it, and uh-” She digs through her purse for a second and pulls out a few pieces of paper printed big enough for Melissa and you to read.

While the print is rather large, both you and your wife still pull the reading glasses from on top of your heads and set them on your faces.

The title of the article is enough to make a tear spring to Melissa’s eye: 

My Biological Mother Didn’t, But Melissa Did- by Millie Schemmenti

“Mill, what is this?” Melissa looks to your daughter.

“Just- read it,” your daughter instructs nervously.

So, the two of you begin to read.

——

I wasn’t born Amelia Schemmenti. No. I was born Amelia Nowak- daughter to Carrie Nowak and Y/N Nowak, with Carrie having given birth to me. While Y/N, Momma, was and is the perfect Momma- the one every child wishes they had, Carrie wasn’t anything like her. Carrie was, to say the least, somebody who should have never been a parent or a wife in the first place. For the first seven years of my life, Carrie was an absent mother. She was there physically, but not mentally or emotionally. While Momma was up with me everyday, Carrie was busy either working, drinking, or cheating on my mother. Carrie was abusive- tormented my momma when she thought I couldn’t see or hear it. The truth of it is, I saw much more than any child that young should have. When I was seven though, everything changed. Everything changed because of one woman who would enter my life as my teacher, and remain in my life for the rest of my days. Melissa Schemmenti, my second grade teacher, saved both mine and my momma’s lives.

——

You have to pause your reading to wipe a tear away from your face. Even though all of that is long behind you, it still haunts you. It’s still a skeleton in your closet that you haven’t been able to shake despite years of therapy. It’s clear Millie still hasn’t closed that door entirely either. The thought of Carrie still lurks in the back of both of your minds.

“Millie,” you whisper tearfully as you pull her in close.

“Keep- keep reading,” she tells you softly. “It’s a happy piece, but I had to add a bit of the backstory to balance it all out.”

You nod shakily and lean back against Melissa to continue.

——

Miss Schemmenti, the rough and tough, no nonsense, second grade teacher at Abbott Elementary, was my guiding light. I knew there was something special about her from the start. For as tough as she played, Miss Schemmenti was had a warmth to her- one that few got the honor of seeing. I was lucky. She had seen something in me, and years later, I got her to admit that I was her favorite student.

——

“Do you think I would’ve adopted just any student of mine, ya buffoona?” your ma chuckles. “Of course you were my favorite.”

You just smile at her, and gesture for her to continue.

——

Miss Schemmenti, when things weren’t safe for us to continue living with Carrie, took us in. She didn’t have to, but she did. She allowed us to move in with her temporarily (reader: it was not temporary. She and my mother still live in that same house together) while Momma tried to piece her life together and figure out how the hell she was going to get away from Carrie. For three months, we lived in Miss Schemmenti’s house with her, and she did everything she did to keep us safe. She drove Momma to work, took me to school, made dinners, read bedtime stories… all while helping Momma with her impending divorce and a custody battle over me. Without getting into detail, the custody battle was a hard battle fought on both sides. And in history, stories are told from the winner’s point of view. Reader, I am the winner in this case, so you get to hear my point of view- I got to stay with Momma. I never had to see Carrie again after an outburst in the courtroom. And because I got to stay with Momma, I also got to stay with Miss Schemmenti- Melissa, I called her mostly now. On the occasion that I was especially tired, she was Melly, much to her dissatisfaction at first (Don’t worry, she got over it).

——

“I still can’t believe I let you call me Melly for all those years,” the retired teacher groans.

Millie lets out a laugh. “You wouldn’t even let Aunt Barbie call you that.”

“I still don’t,” Melissa huffs. “Woman knows if she does, she don’ get any of my meatballs.”

——

After all of the divorce hearings and custody hearings were settled, Momma and I settled into our new lives- away from Carrie. We settled into a life with Melissa. Things were… easy. Natural. A dream. I still remember the day that Momma and Melissa sat me down to break the news to me that they were dating.

——

“Millie!” You called up the steps. “Honey? Can you come here?”

Your little girl came jumping down the steps, curious why you would be calling her down into the living room at three on a Saturday. She saw you and Melissa sitting on the couch, and her nose scrunched just the slightest bit.

“What’s going on?” Millie asked.

“Hun,” Melissa spoke up from her place next to you. “We have to have a little chat.”

“About?”

“Millie, Mel and I have been talking,” you said softly.

“You guys talk all the time,” your little girl rolled her eyes playfully.

“Seriously talking,” you stated nervously. “And… we just wanted to let you know… that we’ve decided to start dating.”

“Dating?” Millie’s eyes went wide. “Like, dating dating?”

“There’s really only one kind of dating,” the redhead chuckled. She took your hand in her own. “But yes. Your momma and I are dating. Is that okay with you?”

Millie pursed her lips.

——

After everything Momma had been through with Carrie, I was terrified to hear that she was dating again- and my teacher, no less. But, if Momma wanted to date, I would choose Mel over anyone in the world for her to pick. I already liked Mel, and she already liked me. We already all lived together, and we had been for some time now. I remember thinking that day, even after all of my questions had been answered about this new change, that I hoped Melissa would stay nice- that she would stay the Mel I knew and loved. I had hoped that she wouldn’t change once they were out of the honeymoon phase of dating. Reader, I want you to know that my momma and Melissa have been married for seventeen years at this point, and they still aren’t out of the honeymoon phase.

——

“I’d say we’re out of the honeymoon phase,” Melissa rolls her eyes playfully and nudges you.

You shrug. “I don’t know about that one, honey. Just last night, you were-”

“Please!” Millie’s eyes go wide. “I don’t need to hear about my parents’ sex life!”

“Just last night, your ma was sharing her ice cream with me,” you finish. “Jeez, Mills. Not everything is about sex.”

“All I know is the last time we talked about how the two of you were still in love, I learned more than I ever needed to know,” your daughter groans, and her ears are red. “Keep reading, before I traumatize myself all over again thinking about it.

——

I remember thinking that I would never call Melissa Mom.

——

“You don’t call me ‘Mom’,” Melissa points out.

You watch as Millie rolls her eyes. “Just keep reading, Ma.”

——

As soon as I was aware of the fact that Melissa and my momma were dating, it was abundantly clear how much better life was going to get. My biological mother never did things for Momma just because. Melissa did. I watched Momma get flowers just because Melissa thought they were pretty- that they were Momma’s favorite shade of pink. I saw Melissa look at my mother in a way that I never saw Carrie look at her- as if she was the most beautiful person in the world first thing in the morning, bedhead and all. I never heard my biological mother tell my momma she was beautiful (and my momma is one of the most beautiful people I know, both inside and out), but Melissa still tells her to this day that her wife is a stunner. My biological mother never told Momma that she loved her just to tell her she loved her. Melissa made sure to tell my mother she loved her each and every day, once the two of them finally had the courage to start saying those three powerful words to each other. My biological mother used to walk out of the house without so much as a goodbye to my momma. Melissa, to this day, has not left the house without saying goodbye to my mother and letting her know she loves her.  My biological mother opened up a whole new world for Momma. She woke up the side of my momma that was easy-going and carefree, while Carrie did her best to bury that part of Momma as deep as she could. My biological mother couldn’t, didn’t want to. But Melissa did. Melissa did everything she could, and it would be for the best.

——

“You paid this much attention to us as a little kid?” the redhead raises a brow, although it’s clear she’s a bit teary-eyed at your daughter’s writing. She lifts her glasses back to the top of her head to wipe away the tears threatening to spill over.

You shrug. “I took in a lot. But I’ve also been doing a lot of thinking lately.”

“She’s right,” you whisper, and you kiss your wife’s cheek softly. “You brought out a side in me I never thought I would see again. Carrie did everything she could to rip that away from me, but you did everything you could to save that side of me.”

“It was always there, mi amore. You just had to find it again.” Melissa smiles at you. Then she turns to Millie. “Mills, this is beautifully done. If you want to publish this piece, I would be honored.”

“Well,” your daughter chuckles nervously as she pulls out another small stack of papers from her purse. “There might be more. I just… needed to see what you thought of the beginning before I showed you the rest of it.”

“Give it here,” your wife holds out her hand expectantly.

Millie hands over the papers nervously, tucking a few loose hairs behind her ear.

Red glasses slide back down onto your wife’s face, and the two of you begin to read once more.

TAGS:  (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights @kmaxmadness @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

requested by @bonesartblog kiss that devil!!!! (you probably wanted something wholesome but it came out super horny lol sorry)

Read on AO3

-

The razor held so close to his face, to the tender skin of his throat. Her hands did not tremble; his trust did not waver.

Tav shaved Raphael slow and careful, focused but taking some secret enjoyment out of moving his head the way she wanted to catch the shadow on the curve of his jaw. He shifted where he sat in a plush chair in his boudoir. He was a very patient man, but he also liked irritating her.

“Stop it,” she grumbled, working to remove an obstinate patch of brisk hairs in the cleft of his chin. Even seated, he was still so big she didn’t have to stoop to reach it.

“This is so dreadfully dull, mouse,” he retorted, sounding as put-upon as possible. Tav knew it was a farce. No one loved being fussed over more than Raphael did. Especially if she was the one doing the fussing.

“It wouldn’t take so long if you’d just sit still.”

“I am sitting still.” He punctuated his point by crossing his legs. Tav gave him a flat look. He blinked slowly at her, amusement sparkling in his pretty eyes. “Might I remind you that you were the one who insisted I needed to shave?”

“Yes, because your stubble kept scratching me. Particularly in…more tender places, you know.” Tav busied herself with her work, ignoring the lascivious and satisfied smile that curled her devil’s mouth. “Besides, I’m almost finished. You can handle waiting a little longer, can’t you?”

“Hmm.”

His skin was so warm beneath her fingers. It thrilled Tav to touch Raphael like this, intimate without the frenzy of sex, but she struggled to maintain eye contact for more than brief moments as she scraped away stubble and soap from his sculpted features. He always watched her so intensely, in a way no one ever had or could ever match, and sometimes it was overwhelming. She saw the inescapable rings of fire that were his irises often in her deepest dreams.

“There.” Using the towel in his lap, Tav wiped him clean and stepped back. “Done.”

Raphael rubbed a hand over his jaw. If he was looking for imperfections, he found none.

“Adequate,” he said. “Though I suppose it requires further testing to be completely sure.”

“What do you mean?”

The devil uncrossed his legs, spread them, slouching back into a far more relaxed posture. “Come here.”

He still made her heart flutter and her stomach swoop like she was a schoolgirl with a crush, and the way he looked right then had her a little weak in the knees. Thin white shirt unbuttoned, trousers loose, barefoot. His hair was still damp from his recent bath. A few locks escaped from the lazy combing he’d given it with his fingers. They hung tantalizingly between his horns. Tug me, they whispered. Dark curls peppered his broad chest and soft middle, tempting her further. His tail swayed ever so slightly, those big gorgeous leathery wings splayed out. His eyes were heavy-lidded, his expression the ghost of a smirk. A devastating and dangerous creature.

Tav went to him gladly.

His hot breath tickled her face and she shut her eyes in anticipation, humming quietly as he kissed her. Deliberately slow, gentle, indulgent presses of his plush thin lips to hers, the corners of her mouth, just shy of the deeper connection she wanted. No self-respecting devil does all the hard work, after all, so Tav pressed herself closer. Entombed by his thick thighs either side. She let one hand settle on his chest, fingers splayed. His heart beat strong and steady beneath them. Her other hand went around his neck to tangle in his silky hair and she kissed him hard. He tasted like cherry soap and smoke. She couldn’t get enough, consuming his cocky huff of amusement at her open display of desire. Yet he returned her passion. One big cambion paw grasped her chin and her neck both, gently tilting her face the way he wanted now so he could sup upon her lips, drink each gasp and sigh he pulled from her, coax her mouth open to push his forked tongue behind her teeth. His other hand squeezed her backside, claws digging in. He groaned throatily when she sucked on his roaming tongue.

“Mm…I did a good job,” Tav said breathlessly when they broke apart, a thin ribbon of saliva still connecting them. She peppered kisses and bites along his chin and jaw. Grinned into his smooth skin when she felt his growing interest. “But there’s still a few other places to test…”

“On the bed, my little mouse,” the devil growled. “Now.”

[eyesxxyou]

I am not really sure if you still write for hobie, but if you do...

Inexperienced! Reader who wanted to do more than just making out but since they're not in a relationship she think she would look desperate until one day hobie notices her being really stiff in the moment. He later finds out by poking at her that is because she doesn't wanna loose control and him to notice she doesn't really know that's much...yeah

So he lets her ride him😽😻

Hope you can make something of it I live your writing!

hehehehehehe I love this

You and Hobie have been together for months now. Months and you two have never even approached the idea of sex. It’s your fault, really. The anxiety of not being able to perform in a way that even begins to measure up to that of his past partners kept you from letting him proceed any further than slipping his hands beneath the fabric of your shirt and feeling up your skin. Any further and you’d retract, you’d retreat from him so fast he’d almost think that he hurt you. You were insecure, knowing that your sexual experiences were limited and not very good. All of two of them leaving you feeling guilty and unsatisfied in yourself and them.

“We don’ gotta do anythin’ you don’ wanna, luv.” Hobie would assure you, gently peppering your lips in kisses to soothe your nerves. He was so understanding, so patient with you. You knew he was simply dying not to be able to act on any of his natural urges but he never made it known to you if he was frustrated. For a second, you almost feared he might find his satisfaction in someone else, that you weren’t enough for him.

When you made your fears known to him, Hobie couldn’t help but let out something like a laugh and a snort at the idea. “Hun, you’re more than ‘nough fo me. Woul’n’t be wit’ ya otherwise. Don’ worry ya pretty lil’ head ‘bout tings like tha’.” He’s good at making you feel safe and secure in your relationship. So thoughtlessly convincing that you knew he was telling the truth. You’ve never caught him in a lie, never heard anyone say anything against the integrity of his character.

You wanted so desperately to please him and after much pep-talking yourself in the bathroom mirror after your shower, standing in a pretty silk camisole and his favorite little pair of your little white panties with a little pink bow just at the band— you managed to gain just enough confidence in yourself to come walking out of the steam-filled bathroom with the sole purpose that you were finally going to have sex with your lovely boyfriend.

He just happened to be lying in bed, strumming his guitar with his skilled fingers, a little song he's been working on for the past week now. His eyes flickered up from his guitar to check up on you, only to find you in those skimpy little panties you knew he loved so much and a matching cami top with no obvious bra in sight. "Wha's this then?"

You stood at the foot of the bed, fiddling with your fingers anxiously as you shrugged, all your feigned confidence melting out of your body at once. "I jus' thought—"

"Jus' though' wha'?" Hobie put his guitar to the side and crawled across the bed towards you. His large, calloused hands coming to find purchase on your hips as he knelt before you. He pulled your close, pressed his face into your supple stomach before looking up at you. "Though' you'd come and seduce me, then? Is tha' i'?" His hands slid up and slipped beneath the silky fabric of your top. The rough calluses of his fingertips caress the soft, plush skin of your belly. Then he lifted your shirt, just enough to trail kisses down your navel to the band of your underwear. "Comin' in here, lookin' all pretty."

You love how loved Hobie makes you. You loved the way he seemed to worship every piece of flesh he managed to get his hands on like it was his honor to be touching you rather than the truth, it was your honor to be touched by him.

“I wanna try it tonight.” You cast your gaze away due to your shyness, not even able to say the word.

Hobie chuckled softly at your timidness. “Wha’? You wanna fuck?” He laughed even harder as you slap his shoulder and purse your lips at his vulgarity. “Don’ be so shy, babe. I’m jus’ clarifyin’.” He let your shirt fall back down and fell back onto your shared bed with his head against the pillows.

Before you knew it, you were on top of him, your panties pulled to the side and his pants pulled down just enough to reveal the length of his aching cock. How quickly he got hard for you, just for you, in all your innocent, inexperienced glory. You were slowly lowering yourself down on his dick, your tight cunt swallowing his length bit by bit, inch by inch, each micromovement making you shudder and whine while Hobie kept guiding your hips down, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. “Tha’s i’, good. Keep goin’ jus’ like tha’.”

You whined at the stretch of him parting you walls and forcing you to make room for him. Every ridge, every vein as inch by excruciating inch was fed into you was felt with hypersensitivity. Maybe you were a tad bit overzealous because Hobie whined slightly, a smile easing onto his lips as his hands gripped harder on your hips. "Easy now, baby. Go slow." His scarred, rough hands slid between your legs and parted the soft flesh of your thighs to get a better look through the darkness.

You moaned as you reached the hilt, sticky skin meeting sweaty skin as Hobie leaned back against his pillow and groaned, head tilted back to reveal his prominent Adam's apple beneath that thin layer of flesh over his throat. You didn't know what came over you but you hand gravitated towards his neck and settled there with comfortable welcome. And to your surprise, Hobie didn't protest it. His easy smile still ghosts over his lips. "I didn' ‘xpect you to be the chokin’ type." He teased. "Go ‘head then. Commit." He coaxed you to squeeze, even instructed you on how to do it properly. "Jus’ lightly on the sides, don' crush my win’pipe now." You did as instructed, nails slightly digging into dark chocolate-toned skin as you squeezed just against the sides. You were nervous about all of this, scared that you might be hurting him, but he seemed to enjoy your proactiveness.

"Keep ya eyes on me, luv." He sighs, hands rocking you hips back and forth. "Don't take your eyes off of me." You took this as you sign to start, your thighs flexing as you rose and relaxing as you let yourself fall. It was so much. Too much maybe. He reached further than anyone has before, deep and thick and terribly good. Skin meets skin once again. The intermingling of sweat and lingering moans. Everything was felt. His rough hands guided your hips, every little movement pushing him further into you, the vibrations of his throat against your palm as he moaned.

You rode him hard, desperate for a release that hasn't been granted to you for years. Too many failed attempts. Hobie, caressing you while you fucked him, humming soft words of praise to feed you ego made you feel like those other times were never meant to happen in the first place. As far as you’re concerned, this is your first time. He never stops looking at you, eyeing out you silhouette in the darkness. Long braids fell over your shoulder and brushed against Hobie’s exposed torso as you leaned forward. "Hobie," his name a prayer on you lips. He adores it, adores you. Every last mole and scar, every piercing, every blemish. The prettiest girl he's ever seen.

"I know, princess, I know. You got i’."

You want to tell him to keep talking to you like that, constantly reassuring you, offering motivation despite the burning pain in your thighs from continuous movement. You never knew men spoke so much during sex. It sounded so sweet coming from his thick lips. All your previous lovers were absolutely silent the entire time. His voice softens the blow, words not particularly obscene in any definable way yet still able to get you wet with just as much effect as if he had eaten you out.

He knows just when to stop and start, what to say to keep you going, when to just let things ride out. He controls every movement under the guise that you have the control. Maybe they share it because the way you have him on the edge of control is completely ridiculous in his opinion.

Hobie decided to help you along, knows girls have to focus a little harder to cum, and weighed the pad of his thumb on your clit. He circles it, coaxing a few whiny moans from your kiss-swollen lips. Your hand fell from his throat to grasp at his shirt in search of more stability, thin brows pulling together in concentration as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

There’s a climax in the way you breathe, a slow building of wont and indescribable pleasure. A climax that leads to anotyou, a crippling one that builds in the pit of your core with each rising breath. You pussy pulses in waves, clenching and unclenching, and never before has Hobie so desperately wished to be bare inside a woman, have that skin-to-skin contact unable to be replicated any other way. You're far more advantageous in your aggression, desperate for that point of no return.

Between labored breaths, Hobie asks, "are ya close? Hmm? You gonna cum fa me, babe?" All you could do was moan loud enough to cover the soft clapping of skin and the sticky peel apart maybe from the sweat that covers your skin in a soft, gleaming layer, maybe from something far more profane.

"That's not gonna work for me, sweetheart. Use your words." You never expected Hobie to be so big on vocalization. It makes sense. He always preferred people to just be out with their intentions, couldn't stand hidden meanings and implications. Say it. Tell him. And he'd give you all you desired.

You shuttered, muscles tightening all at once. "Gonna-" hardly even a warning before you orgasm clung to you and ravished your body almost to your surprise. Muscles ripple, walls clamping desperately to Hobie's cock buried deep within you. you would have fallen if Hobie hadn't sat up to catch you, letting you rest you body upon his with you face buried into the nape of his neck. you nails claw at the back of his neck as his name rings out in a cry against his ear.

"Jus’ a lil’ more, baby. 'm almost there." Hobie keeps your hips moving and like a good girl, a bit more obedient than you would have liked yourself to be, you keep riding him. Neither of them thought the sounds coming from them could have been even more pornographic but the sticky, wet, sloppiness of him diving in and out of your quivering pussy was giving them a run for their money. "So fuckin’ good." He moaned, grasping onto any piece of flesh available to him.

You never been embraced in such a way, held onto like you were his lifeline. You never expected Hobie to get so personal during sex. Always thought him to be the detached type. But the way he was groaning in your warmth, holding you as close as he possibly could despite the humid stickiness between them told you something entirely different. The feel of his rough hands on smooth skin is proof that this was what sex was supposed to be. It was supposed to be intimate and close, and passionate. You were supposed to feel good about yourself. You were supposed to push Hobie’s hair out of his face and look him in the eyes. You kissed him and he kissed you back with such harshness you could have mistaken his actions as a form of cannibalism.

“How was it?” You asked softly against his lips, nervous about how well you did. Was it good enough? Did you compare in any way, shape or form to his past lovers? You just wanted to be enough.

Hobie kissed you once more. “Perfect.”

[m00nc4kes]

I love you.

hobie brown x black! reader

words: 4.5k

rating: mature

summary: You loved Hobie and you knew he loved you. You didn't know it would tear you two apart.

warnings: gender isn't mentioned for reader but they're fem leaning; suggestive and kinda explicit (not really tho); fluff but we descend into angst; author is not british

pt. 2

"I love you."

The words that fell from your lips left a sweet aftertaste. Even so, it had startled Hobie. You could tell from how he suddenly stopped playing his guitar and his muscles stiffened. He openly stared at you with parted lips.

"Pardon?"

After several months of dating and more than a year of companionship, you'd expected a reaction like this. That's how you reasoned with yourself to not let your sweetness waver into a bitterness. So you said it again:

"I love you."

You were tired of dancing around the words, tired of the words haunting your every waking move. You and Hobie's shared sentiment of the words was probably what made your relationship sail so smoothly. But at this point, you were ready to rock the boat and you trusted him enough to not let you fall overboard. 

"Ah," was all Hobie said. He moved his guitar from his lap to the spot next to him. "'n what brought this up?"

"Nothin'," you hummed. "Jus' wanted to say it."

"Knowin' I wouldn't say it back?"

"Knowin' you wouldn't say it back."

He watched you with his champagne-filled eyes while you watched the guilt swirl around his face. You reached up to cup his cheek and smiled when he leaned into the touch. 

"S'not like I don', y'know," he started off carefully. "It's jus'..."

"Ya don't have to explain, Hobes. I already feel it from you."

When you grew up with love being a double-edged sword, the words would inevitably mean nothing to you. Yet, as reasonable as it felt, there was something about saying “fuck you” to the love you grew up with. And you didn't mind taking that first step alone. Hell, you didn't mind going through the journey alone. But, you hoped that one day, Hobie would take your outstretched hand.

In the meantime, you had no problem feeling the love he had for you.

You reveled in it when he turned his head to press a kiss to the palm of your hand. His lipstick stained it and you laughed. The sound of your delight brought a toothy grin to his face. 

“You’re gorgeous, my lovely.”

You blew a small raspberry and turned away. There was something about the way Hobie would compliment you that made your face flush with something oh so hot. 

Knowing how you would react, Hobie leaned forward to pepper kisses against your cheeks. It sent a blaze to the tips of your ears as you let out a surprised noise. He chuckled then continued to kiss along your face.

Later on, when you stood in front of your bathroom mirror and saw all of the dark lipstick stains littered across your face, down your neck, and smudged across your lips, you smiled. Your heart was filled to the brim with newly budded flowers and a warmth that you prayed would never go away.

“Oi, ducky! Where’d ya go?” you heard him shout from across your apartment. You released an amused breath and shook your head.

“I’m in the bathroom, Bee!”

You knew he loved you.

You knew it when he performed on stage, pouring his heart into his lyrics while sweat clung to his shirtless form. He glistened under the stage lights as the audience screamed with him. Of course, you’d been front row, screaming right along with them. 

Hobie’s solo sliced through the air as his deft fingers moved along the neck of his guitar. It was flawless— you knew it would be. He had practiced the damn thing over and over and over again, so much so that you would hear it in your dreams.

So when you heard the last note ring out, you screamed and cheered, already deafened by the excited crowd who followed suit. Your chest swelled with pride and you screamed out again.

Hobie’s eyes found you in the crowd without a moment’s hesitation. He beamed at you with a shine in his eyes that pierced your soul with a fondness that you couldn’t even begin to match. But you wouldn’t hesitate to try.

You threw your arms up and cheered him on.

Because you loved him.

And you knew he loved you.

You knew it during tipsy nights and after parties at the pub when you two could hardly keep your hands off each other. Liquor flowed freely along your nerves allowing for loose lips and weak legs. There was something about taking shot after shot that didn’t allow you to detach from Hobie.

Not that he minded. You knew that from how tightly he gripped your hips as you threw your ass on him. He caught you easily, grinding against you, and you knew his patience was wearing thin. Your body was hot yet your skin burned hotter under his hands and fingers that dug into you. 

The music was near deafening and the dance floor barely allowed any room between you and the other bodies that were touching and sticking to each other. You didn’t mind much. The body you wanted held you close and you needed his patience to break already.

You wanted him to fuck you in the bathroom.

Though, liquor couldn’t drown your logic. With how packed the place was, the bathroom would be incredibly risky, you’d get caught easily. Oh, but the thrill would’ve been amazing.

You pushed your ass against him again and had to restrain your laugh at what you felt. Patience was a virtue, but not a virtue that Hobie would care about much longer. 

He managed to turn you around without hesitation and the kiss you received was absolutely sinful. You could taste the alcohol lingering on his tongue and if he didn’t have such a secure grip on you, your legs would’ve buckled. 

The kiss was messy, sloppy, and the biggest sign that it was time to go.

Getting through the crowd was no easy feat, but you two found a way out. The cold air hit you like a brick, but Hobie remained impossibly close, sharing what little body heat he had himself. He threw an arm around you, going on about something you couldn’t remember, but it entertained you nonetheless.

You managed to stay upright through desire and unbridled stubbornness. As you two walked side-by-side, Hobie would occasionally kiss your cheek or lean down to nip at your neck. 

You loved when he did it, if the dopey smile that spread across your face was anything to go off of. Your heart did happy flutters in your chest and your need for him only grew.

Yeah, you loved him. You loved him. He was going to give you the night of your life and you loved him.

“Hobieee,” you drawled, leaning your head against him.

“Yeaaah?” he mimicked. You laughed loudly and he joined you. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve guessed you two were high instead of completely shitfaced. 

You looked at him with that stupid dopey grin of yours and said, “I love youuu.” 

His face softened and those whiskey-colored eyes of his were illuminated by the streetlight you found yourself under. He was a beautiful sight to behold and you loved, loved, loved him. 

The two of you stopped. He gazed at you with lust-filled eyes and kissed you. Then, he kissed you again, cradling your face in his hands. His thumbs rubbed against your cheeks as he pressed his lips against you again.

He would’ve kissed you again if it weren’t for that oh so stupid dopey grin of yours that refused to stay back, even for a moment. You couldn’t help it and he knew that, so he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You knew he loved you, even if he were too afraid to utter the words. 

You said it again and again when he had you pinned under him on his bed. Your desire for each other didn’t waver. The night stretched on and held still just for the two of you. 

Your nails dug into his back as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Telling you how wonderful you were and how good you felt. The declarations were silent “I love you”s that made your toes curl because you were— close. 

Oh fuck, you were close.

Euphoria flowed from your body and your pleasure fell from your lips. Through heavy breaths you confessed again and again that you loved him.

And he showed you that he loved you the next morning.

You woke up in an empty bed tangled up in Hobie’s sheets. While you wished the empty bed was your main concern, it really wasn’t.

Your head pounded and absolutely dared you to open your eyes to face the blinding light. The groan you let out came from your soul. Your hangovers always struck you like a truck you couldn’t seem to dodge.

“Mornin’, ducky.” 

You grunted out an acknowledgement and heard him step closer to your bedside. He placed something on the nightstand that sounded like glass. The thought of water made you peek open an eye. He stood in front of you only wearing a pair of plaid boxers. You could see the marks you left on his dark skin from last night.

“Got ya some water ‘n some pills.” He spoke softly and you could’ve praised him for it, but your body didn’t agree with you.

With one hell of an effort, you managed to sit yourself up to take the pills and inhale the water. Hobie sat on the bed and watched you fondly. You wiped your mouth and put the glass back on the stand.

Hobie reached forward and touched your forehead with the back of his hand. “How ya feelin’, duck?” He moved his hand to your neck to check the temperature there.

The action was sweet because you never ran a fever with your hangovers, but he was insistent on making sure you were just hungover and not sick.

“Like shit.”

He hummed and flipped his hand over to cradle your cheek. “Figured. Jus’ rest up, alrigh’?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you playfully dismissed him. He leaned forward and kissed your temple.

“Lemme kno’ if ya need anythin’.”

You felt the corners of your lips quirk up as you released a sigh. 

Yeah, you loved him.

And you knew he loved you.

Time continued on as it always did. Your hand stayed outstretched toward Hobie, even if you’d nearly forgotten that you had it out for him. Your “I love you”s flew from your lips and came as easy as breathing. You’d taken that double-edged sword and gripped the blade as if it were a handle, telling yourself that it didn't need to be a sword in the first place. The blood that dripped from your hands reminded you that it was okay if it hurt, it would heal. If you tried hard enough, your hands would stop bleeding and fade into scars. If you tried hard enough, the sword would become flowers in the palms of your hands. 

Flowers that you could turn around and give to Hobie.

The evening had faded into a cool night that left you cuddled up with your boyfriend. The boat gently rocked along the dock and Hobie pulled you close. His arms were wrapped around your waist while your back pressed against his chest.

It had been a few hours since the two of you decided to head to sleep. Though, you hadn’t considered that Hobie would use that time to acknowledge the flowers you held out to him.

You didn’t know why you had woken up at that point. You were floating between the realm of slumber and consciousness, nothing truly made sense in that moment. Maybe something had shifted and startled you from your dreams, you didn’t know. If it weren’t for your very awake boyfriend behind you, you would’ve disregarded the memory and fallen back asleep.

Hobie had taken to fidgeting and rubbing the fabric of your shirt in between his fingers. They were nervous stims you’d recognized from your time with him, but you didn’t know what triggered his fit.

You were going to ask as soon as your mind let go of the remnants of your dreams.

Hobie released a heavy sigh as if he was building up his resolve for something. He shifted to press his forehead to the base of the back of your neck. Then, like a breath lost to the wind, he whispered:

“I love you.”

He released a shaky breath and pulled you closer to him.

Your mind let go of slumber with a swiftness that left you dizzy. Your heart felt like it couldn’t be contained in your chest any longer. You attempted to keep your breathing even as to not startle Hobie, because obviously this wasn’t something you were meant to hear just yet.

Tears burned at your eyes, so you shut them. Who knew how long he had been speaking those words to your sleeping frame, knowing you wouldn’t hear and wouldn’t say anything in return?

Had he been working up his nerve to finally say it? When had he decided to take the flowers you offered him?

Either way, you were willing to wait for him. The tears dripped from your eyes and slid down your cheeks. You smiled.

You loved him.

And he loved you.

Even now, when you struggled to breathe around the blood that filled up one of your lungs. Wind whipped around you as he swung you two through the city as fast as he could. His voice sounded desperate and way past hysterical, but you couldn’t understand any of it.

You had been at the wrong place at the wrong time.

You knew of Hobie’s secret life as Spider-man, or what he was lovingly called: Spider-Punk. It was dangerous work, keeping crime committed by the government low. But the police force took to using whatever means necessary to keep Hobie at bay, even if it meant fusing themselves with symbiotes and becoming animals.

They knew he cared about civilians, that he had a secret life where he was surrounded by people he cared about. It just so happened that the person he loved ended up being collateral damage.

You hadn’t meant to end up in the mix when you left the store, but you did. The pig had come out of nowhere, losing a fight against Spider-man, and decided you were perfect to change the outcome of the battle.

He bum-rushed you, sending you flying against the pavement, then grabbed you by the neck. You were confused, utterly disoriented. You never saw the pig coming. There were people screaming around you while others ran for their lives.

You gripped at the black, sticky wrist that held you and found yourself unable to breathe.

There was a shout and a very familiar mask entered your sight. 

The pig lifted you up and snarled, “Don’t come any closer, Spider-Punk.” His hand dug into your neck and you cried out, scratching at his hand.

“Ya fuckin’ tosser! Drop ‘em!” You hadn’t heard Hobie so pissed in a long time, it had been even longer since you’d heard the fear in his voice.

The pig retorted with something close to a derisive snort. His free hand morphed into something sharp and he went on about laying the law and how it was his job to deal out justice. Your ears rang in your head, you couldn’t understand a single thing. 

Then there was a blinding pain. Twice.

You’d been stabbed clean through the chest and abdomen.

You couldn’t remember what happened from there.

But now, you were choking and struggling to breathe. Hobie stopped swinging and leapt from somewhere you didn’t know. You went from staring up at the sky to being blinded by white lights. 

Through muffled hearing, you could hear Hobie plead with someone, begging them to help you. You were placed on something then surrounded by people in blue scrubs. Your head lolled to the side as blood poured from your nose and you reached out toward your masked boyfriend.

You knew he wanted to follow after you when you were rolled away, but someone demanded that he stay put. Still, you reached for him.

You couldn’t remember what happened from there.

After that, things were weird. You were stuck in your mind, unable to move your body. Your dreams were oddly vivid during this time.

You dreamt of whispered words in the middle of the night. You dreamt of flowers that blossomed in the palms of your hands. You dreamt of blades that cut into your soul.

When you weren’t dreaming, you stared into the eternal darkness behind your eyelids. Voices would stream past you, always out of reach and unintelligible. 

Then you would dream again. Someone would pour you two glasses, one filled with champagne while the other was filled with whiskey. You would always wait for the second person to arrive because why else would there be two glasses? 

But the person never came.

Even so, you enjoyed their colors. They were beautiful drinks. They made you long for Hobie.

When you finally woke up, there was a tube down your throat, helping you breathe. You hated it.

You peeled your eyes open and had to fight back the stinging you were met with. A displeased noise rang from your throat, albeit softly due to the tube. It should’ve been an amusing sight, watching your eyes blink rapidly from the little light that came from the room. But it wasn’t.

Everything was dark except for the light that illuminated above your bed.

Your eyes roamed around the room until they landed on Hobie. He was sitting in a chair at your bedside with his arms folded. His head lolled to the side as he breathed softly. He was asleep, but he looked worse for wear. 

How long had it been?

You slowly shifted your hand, noticing how much effort you had to put in for the tiny motion. Your body was sore, but you just needed Hobie to look at you with those eyes of his.

Every muscle from the top of your shoulder to your fingertips argued with you, telling you not to move. But why would you ever listen to them? You managed to reach your hand out to graze Hobie’s arm. You hoped it would be enough to wake him and it was.

With a sudden hitched breath, you were met with those amber eyes that you longed for so much. Hobie’s face fell as you watched disbelief flood his features. Then, there was an overwhelming grief that spilled from his eyes.

He said your name as if he didn’t think he’d be able to say it again and rose to his feet. Even in his excitement, he gently cradled your face and wept. Kisses were softly pressed against your face as his tears fell down your cheeks. You held the side of his face and let him cry. You didn’t understand what had warranted the grief to flow from him but it wouldn’t take long for you to find out.

Apparently, you were supposed to be dead. One of your lungs had collapsed while the other had filled with blood.

You were supposed to be dead. A week had passed during your medically induced coma and Hobie had sat with that. You didn’t know what the information had done to him, you couldn’t find out even if you asked.

The months that passed were filled with antibiotics and various medications you needed to properly return from the grave. Your wounds scarred and somehow, you were able to enter normal life again.

Even as time passed, that week haunted Hobie. He woke up in the middle of the night in cold sweats, clinging onto you as he silently cried. He had a hard time comprehending that you were okay, instead allowing something else to seep into his mind. 

You hadn’t known about the paranoia until it was too late. The flowers you had shared with him scared him, he couldn’t handle looking at them anymore. If you had known that he believed the flowers were too delicate to be shared with someone like him, you would’ve done something about it.

But, it wasn’t like you didn’t try.

You didn’t notice that Hobie had been acting differently at first. You wouldn’t say he had been distant, he still kissed you and gave you affection. Hell, he gladly attended your doctor appointments with you. You only began to notice when he reacted to your “I love you”s in a completely unexpected manner.

The moment you had uttered those three words, Hobie flinched as if you’d struck him. You didn’t know your words could have such an effect on him and you didn’t think he knew either. Oh, the words left a bitter taste in your mouth and opened up a pit in your stomach.

The two of you stared at each other, neither of you comprehending what this could’ve meant. Your heart raced as Hobie’s eyes searched your face for something you didn’t know. You turned away from him.

“Sorry,” you muttered. You hugged yourself and dug your fingers into your arms.

“It’s fine.” Was all he said.

While you sat with the bitterness in your mouth, you could feel your flowers grow thorns that dug into the scars on your hands. They didn’t bleed, not yet. Even so, you still loved him.

And he— 

You knew he loved you.

You didn’t doubt it even when the arguments began.

He had stopped being physical with you in public and you wanted to know why. Every time you asked, he dodged your question or he was vague about it. If you did get a somewhat reasonable answer, he would say that he just didn’t feel like it. You would’ve believed it as much as it hurt.

Hell, you would’ve understood if he hadn’t stopped whispering that he loved you in the middle of the night. You would stay awake waiting for those three words to leave his mouth and they never did. You spent those restless nights staring at the wall and wondering if he would ever say them again.

Where had you gone wrong?

The lack of sleep and the anxiety that plagued your very being made it oh so easy to pick a fight. You two would never outright yell at each other, but the fights only made everything worse.

Even so, you loved him. You loved him even when he flat out refused to go back and forth with you. You loved him even when he walked away from you. You fucking loved him even when your flowers died and turned into barbs that threatened to cut your skin.

And you… you knew he loved you. He loved you right? He had to have loved you at some point, right? He still did, right?

It all came to a head during a particular argument you two had in your apartment. You had finally, finally gotten an answer out of Hobie. An answer to why he was treating you the way he was. And that stupid fucking answer had set you off.

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” Your hands trembled as you clenched them into fists. Everything was moving too fast, yet so slow at the same time. “What do you mean?!”

Hobie stood in front of you with an oddly calm expression on his face, but you could see the crease in between his brows. “S’not gon’ work between us. Ya not safe with me, ya get me?”

“No, I don’t get it! You do all of this because of that? What sense does that make, Hobie? You can’t do this to me— to us—” You choked up. Your breathing was erratic and it felt like your world was crumbling.

“(Y/N)—”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” You were losing your mind. Things weren’t adding up. Things weren’t making sense.  “Why are you blaming yourself for what happened to me—”

“If my identity is revealed, you will get hurt. Tha’ fuckin’ pig didn’ even kno’ ya relation to me and ya nearly died. You are not safe with me.” His words were enunciated and firm, telling you that you weren’t going to win this. And that wasn’t fair.

“If I’m safe with anyone, it’s you! Don’t you get that? I wouldn’t have made it if you didn’t take me to the hospital!” Your words fell on deaf ears as he shook his head. 

“You’ll become a target eventually. ‘M not gon’ let tha’ happen. I can’t. ‘M endin’ this.”

“No. Stop it.” Blood rushed to your ears yet you ran cold. You latched onto Hobie’s vest and yelled, “Why are you doing this?! You’re not protecting me like this! So why—”

“‘Cause I love you. Tha’s why. I can’t let ya get hurt again.”

And there was that double-edged sword. Your flowers, your bouquet, it had tricked you from the very beginning and allowed the blade to return and slice open your hands. Yet, when you stared at the unshed tears in Hobie’s eyes, you knew that blood trickled down his hands too. 

It had been stupid to think you could morph that stupid sword into anything other than a blade designed to cut your hands.

“Hobie—” your voice shattered as your hands fell to your sides. “God, don’t fucking do this.”

“I—” he seemed to get stuck on the word. He shut his eyes. “I love ya too much to let this go on, lovely.”

Then, he stepped around you and headed for your door. Your voice caught in your throat as you realized that this— this was actually happening. You swore your grip tightened on that goddamned blade as you rushed after him. Before he could touch your door’s handle, you wrapped your arms around him and begged.

“Please don’t leave me. Please. Please, Hobie,” you hiccuped. “Please— I love you, Hobie. Please.” You sobbed into his jacket and dug your fingers into his shirt. You wept and pleaded, “Please don’t go.” 

That double-edged sword trembled in your grip as you willed it not to stab you in your gut.

You could feel Hobie’s breath hitch. The two of you stood there for a fleeting moment, then there were gentle fingers uncurling your fingers from his shirt. Hobie held onto one of them and turned around to face you.

Through your blurred vision, you could see tears sliding down his cheeks one by one. He brought your hand up and pressed a kiss to your palm. This time, no lipstick stained it. There was no reminder that the kiss ever took place. 

Even with the soft press of lips, your hands would continue to bleed well after the door shut behind him.

You stood there for a long time. Silent. At least until your legs gave out and you slowly fell to your knees, completely and utterly defeated by that double-edged sword. It had aimed for your gut and hit you in the heart. Your blood dripped like tears from your chest.

Once upon a time, you believed the gashes on your hands would heal, but you knew you wouldn’t come back from a stab in the heart.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there on your floor. Even so, as horrible as it sounded and as bitter of a taste it left in your mouth, you knew one thing:

You still loved him.

And he loved you.

would you believe me if I told you everything would be okay?

divider by cafekitsune :3

taglist: @hoe-bie

[her-satanic-wiles]

October 1st

Pegging, Papa Emeritus IV x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 2.2k.

Warnings: Pegging; established relationship; praise kink; anal fingering (m receiving); anal sex (m receiving); fellatio; use of sex toys; sub!Copia; soft dom!Reader (but you’re still a little mean to him); gender neutral!reader (but reader does have a vulva); mild humiliation kink; hella fluffy because Copia deserves the world; premature ejaculation; overstimulation; tears; happy ending.

🔞 MDNI 🔞

It didn’t take much to get him all worked up. Depending on the kind of day he’d had, it could just even be a look that got Copia ready and waiting for you to do whatever you wanted. He was an easy mother fucker, especially for the right mother - or rather - person.

Which is how he ended up spread-eagle on his bed, one of his pillows in his mouth as your fingers went deep inside his tight hole. His cock was rock hard and bounced a little every time you touched a sensitive spot and made his hips buck. Although his eyes remained tightly closed and that was something you couldn’t abide by. Not only was he keeping his desperate whimpers to a minimum, he refused to let you see the needy look on his face. You tutted and removed your fingers from him.

Immediately, his lids opened in terror and his gaze snapped to you. “No! Per favore! Don’t stop, ti scongiuro!” In his need, he sat up and began peppering kisses all over your face. “Amore mio, per favore non fermarti. I need more, please.”

“But your eyes were closed, baby.” You responded, your tone somewhat condescending especially for a man twice your age. “You were quiet. I didn’t think you were enjoying it.”

His kisses became more ferocious but his hands were clinging onto your neck. “Non è vero! It’s not true. I love it. Ti amo. Please, dolcezza. Please give me more.” This was so far from the Papa you’d grown to know - this was exactly how the Cardinal acted. Touch starved and desperate. Yet here was the head of the Satanic Church fumbling his words and begging for release.

He sounded like he was on the verge of tears. While he was still sat up a little, you moved your hand sneakily towards his hole and began rubbing over it once more. This earned you a loud yet surprised moan. With a little extra lube, you slid a third finger in and felt one of his hands clasp your forearm. He wasn’t whimpering as much, but he was breathing heavily, as though he were trying to stave off an impending orgasm.

Taunting your Papa was the most fun thing to do, especially when he was all spread out in front of you at your complete and total mercy. He didn’t expect anything from you, especially when you were knuckle deep inside of him. So when you leaned forward and ran your tongue up his cock from base to tip, he screamed and bucked again. “Merda.” He whined. “What are you try-trying to do to your Papa? Do you want to kill me, dolcezza?”

You chuckled a small, evil laugh before responding. “Of course not, Papa. But when you look so deliciously tempting, I can’t help myself.” Finding that spot inside of him now that you had three fingers working at him was easy. Combine that with what your mouth was doing and he was convinced he was going to have a heart attack. Your mouth, now quiet had taken the entire head of his cock into your mouth, and was gently sucking on it.

“Amore mio, if you keep doing this Papa will not last.”

You removed your lips from him and looked up at him through your eyelashes. “You don’t want to cum?”

“I do!”

“In my mouth?”

He shook his head so you stopped moving your fingers. “NO!” He replied when he realised what you were doing. You continued your ministrations, rewarding him for his words.

“On my fingers?”

“No, dolcezza, please.”

“Well, where would you like to cum, Papa?” Calling him Papa while he was submitting to you felt criminal. Papa was for the strongest of leaders, Papa was for the leaders who bent others into submission. Papa wasn’t for the shy, clumsy and awkward men who willingly spread themselves for their partners. But here yours was - ready, willing, waiting, and humiliated beyond satisfaction.

“Non farmi dire questo.” His hands now were covering his face in embarrassment.

“I can’t make you feel good if you don’t tell me where you want to cum.”

He muffled something only his hands caught. So you gently prized them apart gently with your free hand to see his bright red face, and his bottom lip stuck between his teeth. “Tell me, my love. Where do you want to cum?”

He took in a deep breath. “On your cock!” He exclaimed quickly.

“Good boy.” Your praise affected him more than he would like to say, but his hole clenched around your fingers as it registered in his brain. “Do you think you’re ready for it?”

“Sì.”

You kissed his lips softly before pulling your fingers out of him. He whined into your mouth at the lost of you, and as you tried to break the kiss he kept following you. He was clingier than usual. “I won’t go far, precious. I promise.” You said when your lips were finally free.

He chased you to the edge of the bed and watched you strap yourself into the harness. His hands were aching to get hold of you again, but knew he needed to be patient for you. You went to the bedside drawer and pulled out one of the dildos you’d both selected online months prior, and his eyes were completely fixated on it as you attached it to the harness. It wasn’t overwhelmingly big, but big enough that it would stretch him out more than your fingers would.

Knowing how clingy he was feeling, you went straight back to him and immediately wrapped him in your arms, his head falling on your chest. His hands gripped your waist tightly as he took in your scent. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” He said.

“Do you think you can lube it up for me?” He nodded and leaned across to the bedside table to grab the lube and poured some onto the toy. “Make sure you get it nice and wet for me, yeah?”

He nodded again. Both of you were transfixed by his hand touching the dildo, wrapping around it and spreading the lube up and down as though he were stroking a real cock. You were both silent as you listened to the squelching of the liquid in between his hands as he rubbed, losing his mind to the thought of it finally entering him. As soon as he thought it was ready, he nodded and lay back eagerly. His legs spread once again, and you watched him deposit the leftover lubricant into his waiting and stretched hole. You waited until his hand was removed before you climbed over him.

You kissed his sensitive neck, and travelled all the way up to his mouth, where you gave him a deep and gentle kiss - another touch that made him whimper. He bucked up one final time, and groaned at the feeling of his cock rubbing against yours.

“I’m ready, amore mio. Per favore. I need it.”

You lined yourself up with his waiting hole. “Tell me when you need to stop, okay?”

“Okay.”

As you breached his walls, his mouth fell open in an ‘o’ shape, his eyes widened and his eyebrows raised. You were slow with your movements, almost maddeningly so, and his hands flew to your biceps and gripped tightly. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed, a lot more loudly than he intended.

You stopped. “Are you okay?”

He could barely breathe. “It feels incredible.” He propped himself up enough to reach your cheeks and began kissing you again. “More. More, please.”

You obliged and continued to push into him until the dildo was all the way inside him. He kept kissing you as you paused, waiting for him to get accustomed to the feeling. He, on the other hand, had different ideas. As he was kissing you, he also began to slowly rock up and down, feeling your cock move inside of him. “I take it you want me to move, hm?”

“Please!” He begged.

And so, you did. Gently at first so you didn’t hurt him, but as his moans became louder, you understood he was ready for a bit more handling. So, your thrusts got faster and faster.

Until you watched him spasm beneath you, his breath knocked out of him and his mouth wide open. You looked between you to where you were connected, and watched as the remains of his seed spilled out of him. Much faster than both of you had hoped, but he was so worked up you were surprised he lasted that long.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated that over and over again, tears forming in his eyes from his overwhelming emotions.

You were still inside him. “Can you give me one more, Copia?”

He seemed shocked at the sudden use of his name. He thought for a moment, then nodded.

“Words, please.”

“Yes, amore mio. I can give you one more.”

“Good boy.”

He keened at your praise but hissed when you pulled out. You were gentle, tentative, but you wanted to wreck him a little more. So, when you were sure he could take it, you didn’t hold back.

His grip on your arm returned but this time much harder, fingernails digging in and holding on for dear life. Your thrusts were almost brutal, but you knew he was living for it. Each one punctuated with his sounds - whether they were outright overstimulated screams, chokes, or even the sound of his hole sucking the toy back in. He was practically singing. Your moans would occasionally join the cacophony of sounds, not because you were feeling particularly good, but because you knew he appreciated them.

You stopped once more to pull out and hear his groans of disappointment. “I want you to ride me,” you told him, “let me see you take my cock.”

Copia gulped but nodded. He had never allowed himself to be so exposed before, and he certainly had never been the top in this position. He felt himself getting shy again, and if it wasn’t you he wouldn’t even attempt it. With a hiss, he climbed onto you and lowered himself down. His cock was red and angry, and dried cum stained his stomach from his first orgasm and had been forgotten about until just then. He looked positively sinful, sweaty and blushing red.

In order to help him find a rhythm, you held onto his hands and pinned your elbows to the bed, giving him the leverage he needed to work his hips over the dildo, expletives in Italian being mumbled in between his whimpers. Once he found a rhythm and forgot how exposed he was, he let your hands go and began bouncing on his own, using you to get himself off. Your hands were now free, and one clutched onto his bouncing cock and begin to stroke it.

“Tell me how you feel, Papa.”

“Si se-sente bene.”

“Bene?” Your voice was back to condescending. “Only bene? Poor Papa, struggling to pull a decent sentence together.”

“I-”

“You’re so tight and desperate for cock, aren’t you, Papa?” He nodded emphatically. “Do you feel good riding me like this? Taking me for your own pleasure?”

“Dolcezza, per favore!”

“What, Papa? What do you want?”

“I need more.”

“More what?”

“Y-your hand… please.” You stopped stroking his cock. “No! You can’t do this - your - Your hand, stroke my cock, please!” Your hand gripped him again. “Tighter, please.” You obliged now that he was using his words. “Merda! F-feels good. So good. I can’t stop.” He was riding you harder now, his own words egging him on and sending him closer and closer to the edge.

“Do you want to cum, Papa?”

“Sì.”

“Cum for me, Papa. Cum all over me.”

Sure enough, his second orgasm spilled from him. His hips twitched erratically as he covered you in his seed, gasping for air as though he was suffocating. He couldn’t make any noise even if he wanted to - he couldn’t even hear you talking him through it. All he could feel was your tight hand wrapped around his sensitivity and still pumping him until he was completely spent. Not to mention the dildo still in his hole, keeping still while he wiggled and providing him with aftershocks that could bring his sanity crumbling down. He collapsed onto you, completely unable to move himself, and it fell upon you to make him come back to reality.

You stroked his hair and kept talking him through it, waiting until his ears stopped ringing enough to listen to your instructions. Eventually, he came to, and lay on his side after he’d painfully dragged himself off of you and waited for you to remove the harness and come back.

His eyes were closed from exhaustion and he jumped in surprise when he felt your hand on his thigh. “I’m sorry, I have to clean you up.”

“Va bene. Grazie, amore mio.” His voice was weak, but there was a lazy smile on his face.

As soon as you were finished, you came back to bed and wrapped him in your arms. “You were so good for me, Copia.”

He moved his head level to you. “You’re always good to me.”

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