#going through my drafts and this one took me out lmao

[ryoryeonggu]

Mikaelsons: *disapproved of Kol’s love life choice*

Kol: Fine! Judge all you want but [points at Klaus] having a crush on your human therapist [point at Elijah] pinning over the mother of your brother’s child [point at Freya] marrying your werewolf hostage [point at Rebekah] having sex with your adopted nephew [point at Finn] and YOU…

Kol:

Finn:

Kol:

Finn: Well?

Kol: *looks at Sage up and down* She’s fine, actually.

Rebekah: Seriously!!?

[inkedinshadows]

Lost in Submission

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

Summary: After you spend all day teasing Azriel, he grows very needy and very eager to be alone with you.

Warnings: smut, no plot, sub/dom dynamics, oral (f receiving), p in v, creampie

Word count: 3.6k

A/N: @callsigns-haze this one's for you <33 also, I didn't proofread it after final editing bc i was too eager to post so sorry if there are typos or anything else. This was originally a draft for kinktober but I had written only a few paragraphs then completely forgot about it lmao. I didn't want to wait till tomorrow so sorry for the late posting, now I'll go to bed cuz it's 1am ANYWAY enjoy babes love you all

You had been teasing him all day—heated glances in his direction, a brush of your fingers against his, purposely walking so close to his wings that he sucked in a breath every time. And when you sat on his lap after dinner, gathering in the living room with the rest of your family, Azriel didn't waste time wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling your neck.

He didn't pay attention to the conversation. Mor and Cassian's banter, Feyre's quiet laugh and Amren's halfhearted complaints were nothing more than background noise. There was just the sweet scent of his mate and the soft skin where neck met shoulder, that spot he always liked to gently nip at.

“Azriel,” you murmured under your breath. “What are you doing?”

He trailed the tip of his nose along your neck, up your jaw, until he could whisper in your ear, “I want you.”

He didn't care if the others could hear, could see. You'd been driving him crazy all day, and now that you were in his arms, he wasn't sure he could hide how much he needed you. The proof of his desire was hidden from his family’s sight only because you were sitting on it.

“I know you do,” you answered sweetly, running your fingers through his hair. “But you'll have to wait, my love.”

Azriel almost groaned. “You've been teasing me all day.”

“That I have.”

Your sly smile made his cock throb in his pants, and by the way your eyes glinted with amusement, he knew you had felt it against your thigh. But as he opened his mouth to try to convince you, you shook your head.

“Pleading won't get you anywhere,” you said. Your voice was low enough that the rest of your family wouldn't hear it over the chatter, but your tone was firm, authoritative. “Now behave. Or I won't let you touch me tonight.”

It was Azriel's worst nightmare—having you lying next to him in bed, but not being allowed to touch you. Especially when all he wanted to do was bury himself inside you. So he nodded.

You just smiled, and focused again on the conversation.

Azriel tried his best to do the same, but he couldn't. Your scent filled his nostrils, your body pressed against his was a constant reminder of how much he wanted you, and then there was the way you would shift from time to time. To find a more comfortable position, you said, but Azriel knew your squirming around was another test, another torment.

Time seemed to stretch on forever until even his patience ran out. His hand on your thigh squeezed gently, and he brushed a kiss to your neck.

“Can we go upstairs?” he whispered. “Please, love.”

He felt your breath hitch as his lips touched your skin, but your voice was stern as you answered.

“This is not exactly what ‘behaving’ means.”

“I just… you're driving me crazy here.”

You sat up straighter, and it took all the self-control he had left not to moan at the pressure it applied to his aching cock. He was so desperate that he could spill in his pants like a little boy if you did that again.

“So it's my fault you can't wait a little longer?” you asked, raising a single eyebrow.

“You teased—”

Azriel drew up short as he realized his mistake. Of course it was his fault. If he grew restless in his desire to touch you, to kiss you, to have you, then it was his problem. But you didn't give him time to apologize.

“You know what happens if we go upstairs now, don't you?” you murmured, slow and deliberate. Despite your cool voice, the corner of your lips twitched upward, just slightly, a barely visible tick that was still enough to make Azriel's wings rustle in anticipation.

“Yes,” he whispered softly. “I do.”

Now your lips curled into a tantalizing smile. “Good. Then you can winnow us there.”

He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t say goodnight to the others, he didn’t wait for you to do it. No, as soon as you gave him permission, Azriel’s shadows curled tight around the two of you and winnowed you away.

He was holding you in his arms when you appeared in your shared bedroom, and he gently positioned you on the edge of the bed as if worried you might break. Then he just stood in front of you, shadows gone and wings tucked tight behind his back, waiting for you to speak.

You looked at him for a moment, your eyes lingering on the straining bulge in his pants. Azriel had to restrain himself from shifting on his legs in a useless attempt to create some friction. He needed your hands on him, your mouth, your whole body moving against his. But he had misbehaved, and he knew he was going to pay for it.

Your gaze finally met his hazel eyes, a smirk tugging at your lips. When you spoke, your voice was low and teasing. “Touch or be touched?”

Azriel could only stare at you with wide eyes. He had expected you to tease him some more until he was begging for more, to give him instructions on what to do and maybe even tie him to the bed with his own shadows. But his usual companions had vanished the moment he'd winnowed you, and he hadn’t considered that you might make him choose between touching you or being touched by you.

He opened his mouth to answer, but immediately closed it again.

You gave him an amused look as you waited for him to decide.

Just a moment ago, he had been desperate for your touch and the release only you could give him. He still was. But when faced with the choice between his pleasure and yours… he didn’t care how desperate he was. He would always choose you.

And you knew it too.

Before he could try to answer again, you leaned back on your hands and spread your legs in a silent invitation. A command you didn’t need to voice.

Azriel dropped to his knees. His fingers found the button of your pants and quickly undid it. As he slid your trousers down your legs, you pulled off your shirt and tossed it aside.

His tongue flicked out to wet his lips as his hands rested on the back of your knees. You were wearing a simple set of black lingerie, but you looked ravishing. Your soft skin was so inviting, the swell of your breasts calling to him, but the scent of your arousal reached his nose, diverting his attention to the panties still concealing your sex.

He didn’t know where to start and which part of your gorgeous body to touch first, but he knew he couldn’t leave you waiting. He didn’t want you to risk changing your mind and denying him the chance to worship you.

Eventually, Azriel reached for your bra, swiftly undoing the clasp as his lips trailed along your collarbone. He felt your shiver, but before he could take one of your perky nipples into his mouth, you clicked your tongue.

“Not my tits, Azriel.”

He looked up at you, brows slightly furrowed. “But you said I could—”

“I never said anything,” you replied with a smug smile.

Azriel was about to reply, but he held back. You were right, of course. You hadn't actually told him to touch you—or where. And you had spread your legs, which meant that was where you wanted him. He should have understood it earlier.

“I'm sorry,” he murmured, settling down on his knees again, scarred fingers already hooking into the waistband of your panties. “You're right, my love.”

You lifted your hips to help him take off the flimsy material, but just as his eyes settled on your cunt, you gently grabbed his chin and tilted his head up. “Now you're being a good boy,” you hummed. “I think you deserve a reward, don't you?”

His eyes lit up, heart beating faster at the prospect of whatever you were going to give him. If admitting he was wrong and you were right was all he had to do to earn your praise and your reward, then he'd gladly be wrong for the rest of his life.

You tugged his chin forward, and he eagerly followed, leaning in just as you leaned down. Your thumb brushed over his bottom lip and his lips parted in response. He held his breath, wondering what your next move would be.

You held his gaze for a few seconds, enough to let anticipation build in his chest, and just as he was about to squirm, you finally kissed him.

Your lips were soft and warm, moving against him as they'd done a thousand times before, yet it sent a thrill through his body every single time. You deepened the kiss, claiming his mouth and brushing your tongue against his. Azriel couldn't stop the small moan rising in his throat at touch, the sound quickly swallowed by your kiss. But then you pulled away, leaving him breathless and wanting.

Your hand released his chin, yet he tilted his head toward you as if to chase your retreating mouth.

You placed a finger against his lips as if to shush him. “That's not how it works,” you scolded, though your tone was amused. “You have to earn it first, pretty boy.”

And earn it he would.

Azriel's gaze dropped to your pussy, the delicate flesh just begging him to lick it, to taste it until you were utterly, completely satisfied.

He slipped his hands beneath your thighs to pull you closer to the edge of the bed and hold you open. And then he dove in.

You gasped softly at the first stripe he licked up your slit, and he groaned as your sweet arousal coated his tongue.

From that moment, Azriel lost himself in you.

He was aware of every little twitch of your hips, every sigh, every breathy moan that left your lips. Your fingers tangled in his curls, stroking his hair back from his forehead so you could hold his gaze while he feasted on you. And fuck if he didn’t love the way you looked down at him.

He knew your body as well as his own—if not better. He knew you would breathe a little more deeply when he pressed the flat of his tongue against your core, that your delicate walls would pulse around it when he pushed it inside, and that your eyelids would flutter every time he closed his lips around your clit and gently sucked. And the little sounds coming from you… Azriel felt his cock throb in the restraint of his pants.

“That’s it,” you breathed, shifting slightly to rock your hips against his face. “Don't stop...”

As if Azriel ever would.

Your words only spurred him on, and his grip tightened on your thighs. He lapped and licked and sucked like he was starved and only you could satiate his hunger, every cell in his body craving more of your praises, more of your soft whimpers and of your taste on his tongue.

He flicked your clit a few times, and then there it was—his favorite moment. Your moans grew louder, your fingers twisted and pulled on his hair, and you leaned back on one hand to have more leverage and grind your hips more insistently. But your eyes never left his, your heated gaze meeting his adoring one.

“Azriel,” you called, your voice firm enough that he almost squirmed in anticipation of the upcoming command. “Be a good boy and make me come.”

He was your good boy. He wanted to be your good boy forever.

He'd been waiting for your permission, and now that he had it, his tongue was relentless. He teased around your slit before sucking on your clit, rolling it between his lips and flicking it with the tip of his tongue as you squirmed in his grasp. He felt your body tense under his skilled touch, and he smiled against your skin.

A gasp and a whimper—the telltale signs of your impending orgasm—had him pull you closer still, and then you shuddered.

Your thighs quivered and tried to close, pressing on both sides of his head as he continued to lap at your dripping cunt, swallowing every drop of your release with a delighted groan. Your eyes fluttered shut, and as much as he missed the connection, Azriel couldn't help but admire your blissful expression—lips slightly parted, eyes half-closed, cheeks flushed.

He'd done that. He'd made you feel good once more, and he wanted to keep doing it again, over and over until you were thoroughly satisfied. Pride swelled up in his chest, but too soon, your body relaxed and you tugged on his hair in a silent request.

Though reluctantly, Azriel pulled his mouth away from you and licked his lips clean of any lingering trace of your arousal. When he met your gaze again, you were smiling down at him, eyes bright with amusement and lingering ecstasy.

You simply crooked a finger, beckoning him to lean closer, and when he did, you cupped his cheeks and guided him to his feet. Your lips collided once more, the kiss passionate and hungry as you pressed your body against his. The feeling of your breast brushing against his chest, even with his shirt still separating your skin from his, had him growing harder in his pants, his cock straining in its confinement and pressing against your lower stomach.

He’d been so focused on you that he had almost forgotten his own needs and desires, but now he was aching, growing more desperate with each brush of your tongue against his. He was tempted to start grinding against you just to create some much-needed friction.

But then your lips trailed up his jaw, each kiss burning against his skin until you whispered in his ear, “You’ve been so good for me, pretty boy. It’s time for your reward.”

“Yes, please…”

The words were out before he could stop them, but you didn't seem to mind. He felt your low chuckle skitter down his spine, and your soft nibble on his earlobe drew a quiet groan from him.

Your hands slid to his back, undoing the fastenings of his shirt around his wings, your touch only fueling the rising need inside him. He shuddered and gasped when your fingertips brushed the delicate membrane, his wings rustling softly behind him.

“My love…” he pleaded, though he wasn't even sure what he was asking for. For you to do it again, maybe, but properly this time, not just a fleeting touch. Or maybe to undress him faster and let him bury his cock inside you so he could finally find his release. He already knew he wasn’t going to last long, not with how desperate you had made him. But he didn’t care.

“Patience, pretty boy,” you murmured, your voice as sweet as honey. He was trembling with barely restrained need as you placed a kiss just below his ear. “You’ll get what you need. I promise.”

As if to prove your point, you undid his pants and pushed them down his legs. Your hand hovered near the straining bulge in his underwear, and he had to summon every ounce of self-control not to shift his hips those few inches and lean into your inviting palm.

You were testing him, and he knew it. He wasn't going to ruin whatever you had in mind for him just for this. You had promised he'd get what he needed, and he had no intention of making you change your mind.

He swallowed hard but stood still, his gaze locked on the center of your forehead. He wasn't sure he could hold back if he looked you in the eye.

But it was enough for you.

A satisfied smile tugged at your lips as you removed his underwear. Somehow, you managed not to touch his skin, just the fabric. It only made him crave you more.

Once he was fully naked, your gaze drifted down to his hard cock with a knowing smirk. “Someone's impatient,” you teased.

Azriel's fists clenched at his sides, but he didn't move. His skin felt too tight, as if his body couldn't contain the intensity of his need. A bead of precum welled at his tip, and he was about to beg you to please do something, anything, when you moved.

You placed your hand on his chest, gently pushing him back toward the bed. “Sit, my love.”

He did, sitting down on the edge of the mattress, right where you'd been until a few moments ago. He let his wings splay out behind him, resting on the bed like another set of dark sheets.

And then he held his breath as you wrapped your hands around his neck and slowly straddled him while never breaking eye contact. Yet he still gasped when you settled on his lap and his cock nestled between your slick folds. His hands instinctively gripped your waist, but he knew better than to shift his hips.

“I'm going to fuck you now,” you murmured, reaching down between the two of you.

“Yes… yes, fuck me,” he pleaded, unable to keep quiet any longer. “Please, my love.”

Instead of answering him, you closed your fingers around his cock, drawing a moan from him. You guided him to your entrance and kept your eyes locked on his as you slowly sank down on him.

You only bit your lip and sighed deeply, but for Azriel, the feeling of your tight cunt engulfing him was overwhelming. He groaned as your walls pulsed around him, warm and wet and so deliciously tight, and his fingers dug slightly into the soft flesh of your waist.

“You always feel so good,” you breathed. “I wish I could keep you inside me forever.”

He wanted to say it back, to tell you how good you felt around him. Good wasn't even close enough. And if he could stay inside you forever, he'd be the happiest man in the world.

But you began rocking your hips before he got a chance to say any of that, and the only sound that came out of him was a guttural groan.

You didn't hold back. You fucked him, just like you had promised.

You kept a hand around his neck and one behind you on his thigh as you alternated between bouncing on him and rolling your hips. Either way, your rhythm never faltered, nor did your gaze stray from his.

Azriel wasn't sure how much he could take. His groans and pants soon filled the silence of the room, accompanied by the sounds of your body moving on top of his. He tried not to squeeze you too tight, not to buck his hips and thrust up into you, but despite his desire to be your good boy and obey your every instruction, he was struggling.

Having you ride him was heavenly. Your breasts brushed against his chest with every movement and he wanted to reach out and either squeeze them or suck on them, but he needed your permission to do either of those things, and he was already too far gone to form the words he needed to ask for it.

Each time you lowered yourself onto his cock and took him, each time your pussy clenched around him, each quiet moan and small sigh from you brought him closer to his climax. His groans soon turned into whimpers.

“I… I need…”

You smiled at his struggle to talk, at the needy note in his voice. “What, my love?” you coaxed. “What do you need?”

Azriel fought to keep his eyes open and on you. “Come,” he mumbled. “Need to… come… please.”

“You need to come?” Your smile only widened, and your movements grew more insistent. “You want to come inside me? Is that what you want?”

“Yes…” He nodded desperately, feeling tension coil tight in his groin. He wasn't going to last any longer if you kept moving like that. “Please…”

You leaned closer to him until your noses brushed. “Then you can come,” you murmured, your voice low and intimate. “Come inside me, my love.”

Azriel didn't need any more encouragement. As you rocked your hips one more time, his cock throbbed inside you one last time before he found his release. He groaned and twitched beneath you, white spurts of seed flooding your cunt as he closed his eyes, letting the waves of undiluted pleasure wash through his body.

“That's it,” you praised softly, slowing your rocking to a gentle grinding. “Let go, pretty boy. Give it to me.”

He shuddered and trembled as you milked him for all he was worth. Yet even when he was spent and his eyes opened again and his grip on your waist loosened, you didn't stop.

You still moved, slowly, almost lazily. You drew him in for a kiss—soft and tender compared to the passion of the previous ones. Azriel was still panting, his lips sloppy against yours.

“Don't think we're done here,” you said when you broke the kiss. You let him rest his head against your breasts and threaded your fingers through his hair. “I'm going to keep riding you until you're hard again.”

Azriel was still lost in the bliss of his lingering orgasm. His answer was just a low purr as you stroked his hair. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer as he buried his face in your tits, a quiet whimper escaping him when you shifted around his sensitive cock.

“And then you're going to fuck me.”

He wasn't going to argue with that.

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @lilah-asteria @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @ivy-34 @yesiamthatwierd

[mikkomacko]

Reader x mob!boss Nico (also sorry if that's wrong, this is my first request for the series) but something angst smut maybe after Nico comes from the gym?

A/n: This has been in my inbox for literally months I am so sorry it took me so long to write this omg 🫶 but for those of you worried I ignored your blurb requests, they’re probably just in my drafts still lmao

I changed this up a bit but I hope you still love it!

Warnings: smut, jealous Nico, angry Nico

____________________________________________

Nico doesn’t have exes. He’s got old hook-ups and one night stands, girls that clearly come to the Rock looking for him. They’ve all heard about how hot the Devils boss is, as well as the Devils themselves.

It never bothered you.

Nico never had anything with them, at least nothing real, so you never thought you’d have to worry about jealousy between you and Nico. At least nothing beyond the light hearted pouting he does when you’re with Johnny or the way you attach yourself to his hip when girls are obviously flirting with him.

Until an old face made an appearance at the Rock.

You blame Jack for it, honestly. It was harmless, Tyson was harmless other than Nico recognizing the name as soon as you stumbled upon your old boyfriend at the bar. It was one of the first personal stories Nico ever heard about you. Your high school boyfriend, your first love, your first heartbreak. You dated him for a while, fell in love, decided to celebrate your year anniversary together by finally doing it. The universal act of love, the infamous first time from every rom-com.

Except there was nothing romantic or comedic about it at all. It was below average sex, the build up lasted longer than the act itself, and you felt so empty, so disappointed afterwards that you had burst into tears as soon as Tyson was off of you. He panicked, got dressed and basically ran out the door saying he'd check on you later. Later came the next day when he broke up with you, saying you were too much for him and should be with someone who could handle you.

Nico hated Tyson enough as is just for that story. And then he hated him even more when he strolled up to you at the bar and acted like old friends, chatting with you even as you tried to keep conversation quick. You know Nico would've scared Tyson off in a matter of seconds, but you wanted to be civil, so you let him hang with his arm around your shoulders, sipping his beer with a brooding look as Tyson babbled about his life to you.

And you were just about to excuse yourself when Jack ambled up to Nico and asked, "who's the douche?" Which just egged on your boyfriend, his temper already flaring and he shot Tyson a dirty look.

"Her ex."

"Ouch," Jack winced, then patted Nico on the shoulder and leaned into his ear. "She has a type, I'll tell you that."

It was just loud enough for you to hear, turning to Jack with a glare and to hopefully placate Nico but it was all for nothing. He was already angry, already boiling over with a jealousy you've never seen. Denying Jack's statement was only going to make it worse, even though the stupid boy was fucking with Nico. The only thing Nico and Tyson had in common was their dark eyes, and even then Nico's are far darker, hold more depth, are more beautiful.

"Sorry Tyler," Nico spits, not even attempting to be polite or genuine in his 'mishap" on the name. "We've gotta go."

Nico's dragging you away after that, hand on the back of your neck and even though he's jerky and rough as he guides you around the bar and down the hall, his hold isn't mean or hurting. Just demanding.

Swiftly, Nico shoves you through the door into the office, kicking it shut behind him and flicking the lock. You weren't going to say anything, knowing words right now would do nothing for Nico. He accepts and expresses love through physical acts. You two are working on the words thing, but when he's upset like this, it's best to stick what's fool proof.

His hands grab at your face, cupping your jaw and dragging you forward, smashing his lips to yours in a fierce, biting kiss. And you just let him, holding the sides of his neck in your careful hands, easily letting him lead you further into the office until your thighs hit the desk. They’ve barely touched the hardwood before he’s grabbing at your thighs, hefting you onto the desk with effortless strength.

You know Nico is strong, have seen him in the gym, have seen him moving boxes and furniture, have seen him fighting. And you’ve felt it firsthand. Yet every time it takes your breath away, reminds of you that you’re with a man now, not some silly boy like Tyson and all the other average Joes before Nico.

It sends a wave of heat down your spine and straight to your core, arousal pooling in your belly and suddenly it’s like you’re so fucking empty and useless, like you’re life’s mission is to get Nico as deep into your pussy as he could possibly get. How you ever lived without him between your thighs, you don’t know.

“Nico,” you whisper, pleadingly, whimpering when he bites your lip in retaliation. His eyes are dark and demanding when he looks at you, bordering on anger but you know him better.

He just wants your attention. He wants you.

“Don’t talk to me,” he scolds, then almost dismissively he grabs at the bottom of your shirt and starts to haul it up and over your head. “Not after you made me stand there with that fucking hodensniterin and play nice.”

Knowing better, knowing you’ll get him the way you want if you sit there and let him go about his way, you comply as he throws your shirt to the floor, already working his over his head.

You don’t even realize you’ve moved until Nico is staring down at you, an unimpressed look in his eyes. “Now you want me?” He goads, wrapping a hand around your wrist and stopping you from trailing your fingers any further over his abdomen. “You want to touch me?”

You’re nodding along before he’s even finished speaking, brain already going fuzzy from how needy you feel. It’s like all your brain can think about is him, all you can see is him, all you want is him. His name forms on your tongue again and you have to bite the inside of your cheek, forcing your mouth to stay shut.

Meanly, he laughs, yanking you up to your feet by the wrist. Like a rag doll you go with him, flung and maneuvered around so swiftly it catches you off guard when your elbows hit the desk, cushioned by something. Blinking a few times, you look down and realize Nico has thrown his shirt over the hardwood, bunched up as padding under you.

It’s such a sweet thing for him to do, not unexpected of him even when he’s like this, but it still makes your body flush with heat.

“Too fucking bad,” he continues, “I’m doing the touching. Not you.”

Like it’s instinct, you arch back into Nico when you feel the heat of his body get close to you. He chuckles lowly, barely skimming the palm of his hand over your ass but flinching away when you press back into him.

Tears of frustration sting at your eyes, desperation burning in your skin. If he’d just let you talk, let you tell him how badly you want him, how much you need him inside of you right now it’d be fine. But he’s in a mood and already told you not to talk to him.

His fingers hook into the band of your skirt and underwear, the pads of them rough and warm as they drag across your skin. In one pull he's yanking both over the globes of your ass and down your thighs, leaving them bunched up around your ankles.

The air is cold on your newly exposed skin, raises goosebumps on your skin and you shiver, squeezing your thighs together to preserve some heat in your burning core, and subtly relive some of the throbbing in your clit. Nico reacts before you can even let out a hum of satisfaction, wedging a hand between your thighs and smacking them back open.

"Spread them," he demands, shoving his foot between yours now for insurance. You groan, hiding your face in your arms and biting into the meat of your forearm to silence yourself. Apparently that's the wrong move too though because Nico bumps his knee into the back of yours. "Nuh-uh, hands now."

Begrudgingly, you slip your arms around to your back, pressing your wrists together. Chest and cheek flat on the desk, the new position pulls at the stretched muscles of your legs, the ache just enough to make you throb even more.

His left hand gathers yours in one, long fingers holding them together by the wrist, and he presses down into the small of your back. You whimper, more out of embarrassment and neediness than pain but Nico sills for a moment, his right hand stroking over your ass gently.

"You ok?" He checks, voice a quiet murmur and you take a mental check of your body. It's a little degrading being thrown and bent over his desk like this, ass up for him to do as he pleases, but it stings in the best way possible. You trust Nico, know that even when he's got you exposed and vulnerable like this he would never go too far, even though he could.

It's exhilerating.

"Tell me baby," Nico encourages, settling his hand on the seam of skin where your thigh meets the bottom of your ass.

"I'm ok," you say, closing your eyes and breathing in the cologne on his shirt, the rich scent of him. It's soothing and you quickly amend, "I'm perfect, Schao."

You can picture the pleased smile on his face, the dimple it carves into his cheek.

"Good girl," he purrs, dragging his thumb through your folds. The sudden touch sends a shock wave through you, hips canting and rising to your toes to give him better access to your swollen and desperate clit.

"S'this all you needed to be nice to me again?" Nico skips over where you want him the most, going back to thumbing at your hole teasingly. "To pay attention to me instead of that cock-sucker out there?"

You're not sure if your allowed to talk again, so you bite your tongue, sucking in quivering breathes of air through your nose to stay grounded. I was just being polite, you want to say, to defend yourself. I hate him and I love you Nico.

Torturously slow, Nico dips his thumb between your folds, sinking into just the knuckle and you hold your breathe, scared that any sudden movement will spook him into stopping.

He pumps his thumb in shallow movements, careful and calculated. It's not everything you want from him but it's something, a content breath puffing out of your nose.

"Thinks he knows you," Nico mutters, more to himself than you. He pulls back, his thumb suddenly disappearing and you whine, pussy clenching down on nothing. Thankfully, Nico doesn't care about the bratty noise enough to scold you. He silences you with two thick fingers, shoving them into you up so abruptly you flinch, digging your cheek further into his shirt.

"He doesn't," Nico says, louder this time like he's trying to remind you. It goes in one ear and out the other, your mind to preoccupied with the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of you. He pets at the sensitive sponge part of you, curling his fingers to hit it dead on and your knees shake.

"He doesn't know how to bend you over like this, how to take you apart like I do, does he?"

Your fingers clench into fists, stomach clenching and every push of Nico's finger stretching you pushes you closer and closer to your orgasm. His hand on your wrists tightens, holding you in place and then his fucking his fingers into you faster. Your orgasm crashes over you, white stars bursting behind closed eyes.

He's still talking to himself, muttering stuff under his breath and stroking you through your high. Your thighs quiver and shake, the insides of them damp with it and your knees fully give out, leaving you a heap on the desk. The pounding in your ears must have blocked out the sound of Nico's zipper and the drop of his jeans, because your caught of guard when his fingers have only left you for a second before the weeping head of his cock is prodding at your pussy.

In one swift motion he buries himself in you, stretching your walls as his hips sit tightly against your ass. You feel useless, boneless after your orgasm, only able to lay there and take it. It's so nice you could cry, sniffling as Nico pulls back and fucks into you, a raw moan ripping from his throat.

"Fuck so perfect for me," he compliments, setting a fast and brutal pace. Your thighs and hips smack into the desk so harshly they'll definitely be sore tomorrow if not bruised too. His other hand grabs at your side, holding you so tightly you can feel his fingers between your ribs, painfully keeping you still.

"Just for me, fucking made for me."

You gasp, arch further into his strong body as your walls flutter around him. "All for you Nico," you mumble submissively, hoping to god that that's what he wants from you, that he wants to hear you. He groans in approval, the sound wrecked and rough. "Just want you, only ever want you, Nico."

Somehow he picks up the pace, fucking into you even harder and in the back of your mind you wonder where the fuck he got such a sturdy desk. Pressing his chest to your back, Nico sweeps your hair to the side, his lips finding the side of your neck.

"He had you first," he says low, breath hot against your ear "but I get you forever, right?"

Desperately, you nod, another orgasm building in the base of your belly. "Forever," you confirm. "He had me first, you'll be the last to have me Nico."

Sweetly, Nico kisses your temple. "Tell me," he request, now kissing at your jaw. "I want to hear more baby."

The juxtaposition of his cock fucking you into next week and his mouth being so sweet and soft cuts through you, leaves you raw and exposed to him. You knees shake again, thighs quivering as your high gets closer and closer, stronger now that he's already left you used and sensitive.

"He was the first to have me," you choke out, Nico's mouth ghosting over your cheek as he waits with bated breath. "but you were the first to have me raw, boss."

Nico makes a wounded sound, like he'd been punched in the gut and his hips stutter for a moment before picking up the same pace. He captures your mouth in a biting kiss, licking into your mouth with such dominance and control it sends you over the edge.

He fucks you through it, rocking his hips a few more times before he too stills, buried to the hilt as he comes. You pulse around him, greedily accept everything he pumps into you with absolutely no resistance. Nico kisses at your slack mouth, mumbling soft praises as you come down from your second orgasm.

"So good, baby. You did so good for me," he dots kisses under your eye, dragging his fingers across the skin and you blink your eyes open, realize your eyelashes are clumpy with tears and he's drying your cheeks for you.

"Nico," you cry, legs and hips aching, the edge of the desk digging into your skin uncomfortably He shifts, taking his weight off of you and releasing your hands. They prickle with pins and needly, the blood rushing back to them as they fall to your sides, numbly.

"I got you sweet girl," he assures, kissing down your back. Your in a haze as he pulls his jeans and boxers back up, then helps ease your underwear and skirt back into place. You make a noise complaint, needing to at least clean up a little bit but you don't make a move to do anything.

"You're fine," Nico tells you, slipping a hand under your stomach to drag you up from the desk. "Can sit out there with me dripping from you, yeah? Want you to remember who takes such good care of you now."

Like mush, you let Nico turn and sit you on the desk again, swiping his black shirt from the surface. He looks so pretty standing over you, cheeks flush and glowing, eyes still dark with arousal. His hair falls a little flat over his forehead, a crooked and boyish smile on his face.

"Yeah," you agree, still dazed as he uses his shirt to wipe under your eyes and around your lips, cleaning the spit remaining from his mouth.

Nico leans down, kisses between your eyes in a move so soft and fluttering it tickles, makes you blush like a school girl. "You're never too much," he promises, recalling the reason why Tyson had broken up with you. "You are everything. So pretty when you come, when you cry for me like that. I live for it."

Your heart aches in your chest, his kind words drawing a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. It had been something that followed you, an insecurity always in the back of your mind. You accepted whatever love you could get because you thought that was it. You were too much, they couldn't offer you more and you couldn't ask for more.

Until Nico.

"I love you Schao."

He smiles all handsome and precious, smoothing your hair down with a gentle hand. "Love you more, my baby."

You fall forward into his stomach, cheek pressing into the damp skin on his ribs. You want to hug him but your arms are still regaining their feeling and your legs are tired right now, so you settle for lazily wrapping an arm around his thighs.

“What’s a hodensniterin?”

He snickers, hand on your head, protectively. “Ball fucker.”

[yandere-yearnings]

Know Me Like the Devil Knows My Sins (Loser!Yandere x GN!Reader)

feat. genie's loser yan

♡ oneshot, approx. 1.5k words

♡ post-specific warnings: yandere themes, implied kidnapping, violence, strangulation, implied death

♡ a/n: thank you to @moyazaika for letting me write abt his oc, loser yan!! genie, if you read this, pls ignore the fact that my characterisation sucks ass. this was over 3k but i went back and cut out the waffle bc there was a lot of it lmao, so ig it's technically edited, but not proofread.

♡♡♡

This basement was cold. 

Heated blankets and warm meals, however many times a day they were brought to you, didn’t change much. No windows or light for even a semblance of passing time, all you had was the annoying draft that skimmed through the door at the top of the staircase — the one you weren’t allowed near. You wouldn’t have been able to escape even if you wanted to, not with the chain around your ankle. For as free as he tried to make you feel, the heavy metal was a constant reminder that there was no liberty in his love, if it could even be called that.

You were waiting for his return, less because you wanted to and more because it was the only thing you could do other than read the books he’d given you. They were all your favourites, from the stories your mother used to read you as a child to the ones you’d pick up on your way home when you’d grown up. At first, you’d found the thoughtfulness of it endearing, feeling seen and understood and catered to. Somewhere, kept within his walls, you didn’t blame yourself for becoming as delusional as he was.

How could you enjoy anything anymore, with no one to share it with?

Each new day that passed, every page you would read and read again, only accomplished you in realising the loneliness that coiled around you. Second by second, growing larger than your life had been before this. Soon, your loved ones would stop looking for you. Soon, you’d be considered dead — and in death you would be all his. You knew that was what he wanted.

You had made yourself comfortable on the vulnerabilities he presented to you, in the way he shook when your fingers stroked his skin, his shudders at your calling his name. That was all too good to be true. If you had actual control in this, he’d have surrendered to you long ago. You’d been testing it. Playing mind games, pushing limits — he’d shut you down quick, then cover the shrewdness in his eyes with a bashful smile. You were no fool, and clearly he wasn’t either.

Your bitterness surmounted with the echoing of locks clicking open. There wasn’t a need for as many as he had placed to keep you here, you weren’t sure you could even run anymore. You hadn’t used your legs in so long. He’d surely catch you. He’d rip your throat out like he did in your nightmares. You had no faith you wouldn’t become another layer of red on the white paint surrounding. Perhaps you should’ve been thankful, if fear were to be a knife, he’d certainly dulled it for you — slinking in, shoulders slumped and looking as meek as ever. Really, from the first glance, he didn’t look like he could hurt a fly.

“Darling…” there was that tone, demure, like you could do anything to hurt him from your place on this filthy mattress, your place on the floor as he stood above you. Towering. This entire thing felt like a sick joke. You’d once considered there being a chance for you. Hope crumbled just like he did, to his knees to look into your eyes. “I missed you so much today, my love.”

You blinked at him. You knew where this was going.

“I mean- I miss you every day, don’t get me wrong!” Sheepish laughter, twitching fingers — all signs of his wanting your validation. “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you, not at all. Work has been so hard, and you’re the only thing I can look forward to truly and- and I really, really wanted to come back home quickly and ask if you’d...”

His sentence trailed off, and it took all you had to suppress the urge to roll your eyes. He wasn’t very creative, that much was obvious. You’d initially chalked it up to some cute sort of performance anxiety that he experienced because he wanted to come off as appealing to you. Now, it had begun to dawn on you that he was simply struggling to keep up the pathetics. As you curled your digits into his hair, as you tugged him closer and let him muffle his weak moan into your neck, you wondered why either of you were bothering anymore. No audience except for the earwigs that crawled about, no one who’d watch this stupid, repetitive show.

“I’ll hold you,” you whispered, tired enough that even your dishonesty could be mistaken as gentle. “I’ll hold your heart. Don’t worry. I know.”

You could feel his lips on your skin, chapped, scraping where he tried to formulate words. You were sure he too felt this warring between the both of you, this constant fight, teasing superiority, challenging who would take the reigns in this sombre dance. Bored out of your mind, anticipating when he’d get tired of you — but you were his infatuation so that could never happen.

“Not enough about me,” he breathed, “my sweetheart, my entire world, you wouldn’t know what I’ve done for you.” His hands dug into your waist where they rested, gripping flesh over fabric like it would give him warmth. It wouldn’t, because it was freezing in here.

“Won’t you tell me?”

Quiet laughter. “You’d be scared if I did.”

“I already am.” Your words made him pull away, made him peer at you with those eyes. You held his gaze. “I already am afraid of you. I already know who you are. Tell me anyway, since-”

“Since you love me.” He interrupted you, finished your sentence with words you had not been planning to utter. He didn’t say it tentatively enough; gave himself away with that and the severe expression on his face that his hair did not hide. It was a shame that now wasn’t one of your better days, lest you’d have heeded the silent warning.

“Since I can’t leave,” you corrected. No energy for even a single ounce of regret, none to even whimper at the violent pressure of his grip on your collarbones.

Sometimes, he’d come to you with blood caked under his fingernails. Sitting there like he was sinless, mouth running for hours about you in every way he could. All your likes and dislikes, all your habits, all your life — as if you didn’t know yourself. Again, those lips were moving, spitting at you like it could quell the anger you could see bubbling beneath the surface.

Your perfect person, he spilled descriptions like the ideals you once had were his intimate study, asking you why. Why wasn’t he enough even though he’s everything you’d ever wanted? When he’d made sure of it? Your chance to answer was taken by lithe fingers on your neck, but if you could, you’d have told him that at its core, it was just that every desire you had, looked like something disgusting on him.

“Sweetheart, this isn’t like you, c’mon,” his words came ringing, buzzing, an entire choir of metal scraping metal underwater, your world spinning and head pressed back into the mattress too fast to stop him from climbing on top of you, “don’t deny your feelings for me.”

Your eyes rolled back and his hold on you only loosened a fraction. Staring at the dark inside your own skull, gasping breaths through bruised tissue. You thought you heard knocking, and surely it’d be death at your door if you didn’t backtrack now, didn’t tell him what he wanted to hear, like you had been until you’d lost yourself in your own lies.

Survival instinct should’ve kicked in, but then sight and sound returned to you, and you accepted that you wouldn’t be the hero in your story. You’d get yourself killed, yet, how could you love a man that loomed over you with eyes on fire? He’d burn you up to make it through the winter, and find another once your ashes were blown away.

Even if it made you a villain, drowning in the blood pooling from your ears, you owed yourself your last rasp to him. “I hate you,” broken and choked on tears cutting through the numbness. Your nails clawing everywhere you could reach, on this bed of springs that felt nothing like the one you so desperately wanted to return to, you mourned all you were losing. 

Limbs going numb — salt — you’d never see home again.

When under constant observation, there’s only so much one can conceal about themselves. He knew that well. From the pictures of you in his gallery and the endless notes with your name repeated over and over and over — he’d chosen to obsess, and you were forced to, and you became his mirror the longer he kept you. Going mad, crazy, insane because his was the only face you could remember anymore.

You knew his moods from his scent and his needs from his touch, you knew him to the heart of the blank slate he’d always been, you knew him rooted carnally to you because it was the only thing grounding him. He hadn’t needed to tell you anything really, and you didn’t need to push. You knew him like the devil knew his sins.

And he’d take you to hell for it.

[mingi-s-dimples]

Christmas Eve - Mingi

First of all.. Merry Christmas, everyone! I know I am *a bit* late to the party 😭 but school has been stressing me out so much... and I haven't had time to write nor the proper motivation to, so I decided to delay my fics a bit in order to regain some of my motivation, since I want to give my utmost best when writing ^^. Happy holidays, and this is a great opportunity to thank everyone for all the support I've been receiving since I started writing! This place is my comfort, I love writing so much.. I love you 🤍

---

pairing: bf!Mingi x gf fem!reader

genre: absolute fluff

summary: your boyfriend organised a surprise for you right in Christmas Eve.. which leaves you growing fonder of him ^^

wc: 1.3k (what a contrast between this and the ot8 one lmao)

warnings: literally no warnings, it's pure fluff ^^

Author's Note: I love writing thid tbh.. it felt like a fresh breath of air. I am all about Christmas, so y'all about to find out it took me 10 mins to write the first draft 🧍‍♀️ and 10 mins to rethink parts and finish. (pspspsps, special nye fic is coming... and it’s steamy 🫣)

The biting chill of the December night followed you home, your breath visible in small white puffs as you stepped out of the cab. Tugging your coat tighter around yourself, you couldn’t help but sigh. Christmas Eve had come at last, but work had been relentless. Most of your day had been spent organizing last-minute projects and ensuring everyone left the office in time for the holidays. The thought of warmth, home, and Mingi waiting for you was the only thing keeping you going.

However, as you approached your apartment door, something peculiar struck you. The hallway was dark—unusually so. The soft glow of Christmas lights, typically draped along the railing, was conspicuously absent. You paused for a moment, frowning as you set your keys in the lock. Had Mingi forgotten to turn them on?

Sliding the door open, you called out, “Mingi?”

No answer. The apartment was eerily quiet.

Shrugging off the odd sensation that prickled at your spine, you stepped inside. The familiar warmth of your shared space instantly melted some of the tension from your shoulders. After locking the door behind you, you shed your coat, scarf, and gloves, hanging them on the rack alongside your work bag. You glanced down at the fluffy slippers waiting patiently for you by the entrance—Mingi’s doing, no doubt. Smiling softly, you slipped them on.

The living room was just a few steps away, and as you made your way toward it, you couldn’t help but note the tantalizing scent of something delicious wafting through the air. Your curiosity piqued, you pushed open the door—and stopped dead in your tracks.

The room was transformed into something straight out of a dream.

A digital fireplace crackled warmly on the TV screen, the flames casting a golden glow across the room. The Christmas tree stood tall and regal in the corner, its ornaments twinkling like stars under the soft light of the fairy lights strung around it. Beneath its branches, a pile of neatly wrapped gifts sat waiting to be opened.

But the centerpiece of the scene was the small table in the center of the room, set up with candles, a bottle of wine, and two plates of what looked like your favorite dishes.

“Mingi?” you called again, your voice soft this time.

From the kitchen emerged your boyfriend, a grin as bright as the Christmas star adorning the tree spreading across his face. He was dressed casually in a cozy sweater that you loved on him, his dark hair slightly tousled as if he’d been hurrying to prepare everything.

“Surprise,” he said, holding his arms out theatrically.

Your heart melted on the spot.

“Mingi, what is all this?” you asked, stepping forward, a hand flying to your chest.

“It’s Christmas Eve, isn’t it? Thought I’d make it special.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I know how hard you’ve been working lately.”

Tears stung at your eyes, but you blinked them away quickly, not wanting to ruin the moment. “This is amazing,” you said earnestly, reaching for him. “I can’t believe you did all this.”

He caught your hands in his and kissed your knuckles softly. “You deserve it. Now sit down, let’s eat.”

Mingi guided you to the table, pulling out your chair with a flourish. As you sat, he poured you a glass of wine before serving up the dishes he’d prepared. Everything smelled and looked divine, from the roasted vegetables to the perfectly cooked protein.

“You didn’t burn anything,” you teased gently as you took your first bite.

He snorted, his face scrunching in mock offense. “Wow, no faith in me at all, huh?”

“None whatsoever,” you joked, earning a dramatic gasp from him.

The two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, laughing and chatting about your day, your plans for the holiday, and reminiscing about past Christmases. The meal was delicious, and the warmth of the digital fireplace added to the cozy atmosphere.

Once the plates were cleared, Mingi brought out a tray of sweets he’d picked up from your favorite bakery. As you nibbled on cookies and sipped your wine, the conversation turned to your shared memories.

“Remember when we bought that tree?” you said, nodding toward the majestic pine in the corner.

Mingi chuckled. “How could I forget? You almost tackled that old lady to get it.”

“I did not!” you protested, laughing.

“You kind of did,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “But it was worth it. Look how perfect it is.”

The tree indeed looked perfect, its branches heavy with ornaments you’d collected together over the years.

After a while, Mingi turned on a playlist of faint Christmas carols, the soft melodies filling the room. The two of you moved to the couch, the tree standing sentinel over you as you began to exchange gifts.

“Okay, okay, open mine first!” Mingi said, nearly vibrating with excitement as he handed you a neatly wrapped box.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. “All right, all right, calm down!”

Carefully peeling back the wrapping paper, you uncovered a small velvet box. Your heart skipped a beat as you opened it to reveal a stunning white gold necklace with a matching pair of earrings. The necklace sparkled like frost in the morning sun, and the earrings were elegant, perfectly complementing it.

“Oh my God, Mingi!” you exclaimed, your voice rising with excitement. “This is gorgeous! How did you even—”

“I saw it weeks ago and knew it was perfect for you,” he said, grinning so wide it looked like his cheeks might ache. “Do you like it?”

“Like it? I love it!” you said, throwing your arms around him. “It’s absolutely perfect!”

You leaned back, still holding onto him, and added, “Help me put it on?”

Mingi’s hands were steady as he clasped the necklace around your neck, his fingers brushing your skin lightly. When he was done, you turned to show him, and the way his eyes lit up made your heart flip.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured, his voice full of warmth.

“Thank you,” you said softly, before kissing him with all the gratitude and love you could muster.

“My turn, my turn!” Mingi said, bouncing slightly as he sat back.

Laughing, you handed him your gift. He tore into the wrapping paper with childlike glee, letting out an audible gasp when he opened the box inside.

“No way!” he exclaimed, holding up the sleek bracelet he’d been admiring for months. “No freaking way!”

“Way,” you replied, laughing at his reaction.

“You remembered? I can’t believe you got this for me!” His voice was filled with awe as he slipped the bracelet onto his wrist, admiring how it fit perfectly.

“Of course I remembered,” you said, grinning. “You’ve been talking about it forever.”

He leaned over and crushed you in a hug, nearly knocking you backward. “This is the best gift ever. Thank you so much!”

“I’m glad you like it,” you said, your cheeks aching from smiling so much.

“I love it!” he said emphatically, leaning back just enough to kiss you.

The two of you spent the next hour unpacking the rest of the gifts—sweets, small trinkets, and other thoughtful items—but nothing could compare to the excitement and joy of those two special gifts.

As the night wore on, you found yourselves snuggled up together on the couch, the soft glow of the tree casting shadows on the walls. Mingi’s arm was draped around your shoulders, and your head rested against his chest.

“This is the best Christmas Eve ever,” you murmured, your voice thick with contentment.

Mingi pressed a kiss to your temple. “It’s the best because I get to spend it with you.”

And as the carols played softly in the background and the warmth of the digital fireplace wrapped around you, you couldn’t help but agree.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @atiny1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @atzlordz

[surfinminho]

Things that turn them on

Hyung line | maknae line

Wc: 1.3k

Warnings: gun play, anal, sub!skz, mommy kink, slapping/hitting

authors note: I'm back!! please bear with me, this was a draft since February so it might suck and I haven't wrote since lmao 😭 idk when I'll post the second half of this, but I'll try not to go AWOL again😪

Chan

You had him wrapped around your finger, he doesn't usually act like this. Being a leader of a group doesn't usually allow him to behave this way.

But when he's with you? It seems as if ever thought in his head disappears. He tries to not let it show especially when he's with the members but he can't help himself.

Him changbin and jisung were all in the studio, doing their tasks while sharing lyrics they came up with.

His complete focus was on this one assignment, something just didn't seem right. In the late nights when he was awake on his laptop, trying to get the lyrics right you would come. Calming his nerves and making him take a break. He needed that stress reliever again with the way he felt like he was going to cry over this demo.

his phone buzzed, sending vibrations in his pocket.

"Hi chan ^^ I'll be home a little late. Like late late, I picked up a extra shift. Hope you don't stay at the studio for too long. Love you 🩷"

He sent a quick message back, running his hands through his hair for the nth time.

The clock ticks to 1:30 am. Exhaustion took over him. Eyes threatening to close.

"I think it's time to call it wraps" changbin spoke up, shutting his notebook.

Chan and jisung both agreed, going their separate ways.

When chan got home, he felt so different. He took his usual shower, eating a snack, even managing to get a little more done on that track. As he got into bed, his nose was filled with the scent of you. He didn't even know when he started tearing up, or when they started pouring out.

To his luck, you came home at that time. Taking off your shoes and hanging your coat up. You didn't bother eating anything, having eating at your job.

You expected chan to be asleep when you walked into your shared room, not him crying in the dark.

"Chan? What's up?" Your socks padded against the wooden floor. Sitting on the edge of the bed.

"N-need you mommy" he tugged at the bottom your shirt, hand reaching underneath it.

It was something you guys did when he was really stressed. You didn't mind it, as it calmed him down.

"Need me? How so?" You maneuvered yourself to sit on top of him, hands grounding yourself by holding his thighs.

"Wan- wanna suck your tits. Please?" Tears were still seen in the corner of his eyes. Threatening to fall once more.

You lifted up your shirt, unclipping your bra in the back, letting him attach his mouth to one of your breasts. It's easy for him to relax and fall asleep just like this. Though, he doesn't think he'll let anyone know Abt his little secret.

Minho

I think I've mentioned this in my other ot8 post but honestly I see minho into gun play. Like if it's minho giving it, (que mafia trope) he's definitely a person in charge or In high rankings. And the more well known you are the more someone wants your head on a platter. He would never want to hurt you, that should be a given. But the thrill he gets from pressing a gun against your neck as his fucks you can give him jerk off material for days.

It was in the spur of the moment, you were perched on his lap in his office, and you were asking him questions about things he had on him, random I know. But it sparked a conversation about guns and one thing led to another and your chest is pressed against the desk, leather glove covered hand covering your mouth while the other has the gun pressed against your neck.

"Shut the fuck up will you?"

If it was minho receiving it, it would probably be a enemy situation. You had known him but jobs and other things tore you guys apart. Saying you missed him would he an understatement.

But when your boss said you had to interrogate him, you got a little giddy.

When you saw him in your basement, you had your hand on your gun. Even though he's tied up, doesn't mean you can't use it.

"Hello there" he smiles at you attempting to wave.

"Let's get this done, just tell us what you were doing." You stood in front of him, gun pointed at his forehead.

"You have the gun there as if you're gonna shoot me. Nice joke bunny." He was taunting you, which for some reason you couldn't take lightly.

You pryed his mouth open with two fingers, shoving the gun into his mouth. You heard him gag on it while you push it to the hilt.

You eyes trailed down to see him hard, straining against his pants.

"Really? Hard because of a gun? Pathetic."

Changbin

He wants you to fist him. That's it that's the sentance.He has almost an infatuation with pegging anal gaping and what not.

He was big and buff, and you.. well you weren't. If anyone was nosy enough (his friends) they would think he was a Dom. And nothing's wrong with that, until he starts talking about how strong he is in bed. What a lie.

When you guys were back at the dorms, you had him face down ass up on the bed. Working him open with three fingers, you made him cum once by sucking him off then again by fingering him. You had him whining like a little bitch. It made you smile.

"Binnie, baby give me another one. Or are you gonna fight me back? Since you're so strong." You rolled your eyes at the last statement.

"I- I said I'm sorry!" He shoved his face into the pillow, hoping to not wake up his flatmates.

"Are you really sorry? Do you need me to pick up the pace? Or add another finger?" He clenched on your fingers as you said that last sentence. Moaning your name as his came for the third time.

"Need me to add another one hm?" You laugh, easing in your pinky.

"No- no more, mommy stop!" You knew he didn't mean for you to stop, he had his safe word. But the thrill of it makes it better.

"Baby, we both know how you love to get your tiny hole stretched, don't hide it."

Hyunjin

I see hyunjin as a hard sub. The whole package if you may. You were hesitant at first, not wanting to hurt him. But soon you got use to it. Inflicting pain on someone was not on your years bucket list. You weren't gonna say you dislike it- actually you were the opposite of that.

Some of his close friends (who happened to be yours) said maybe you are being too rough. Then theyd point to the purple marks scattered around his neck and wrist, but he knows his safeword. He would tell you if it was too much.

He was being good this week, and you decided to give him a reward. It wasn't as usual for him to get a reward, mostly because he's always acting like a piece of shit. But that's besides the point.

You let him have your ass.

"You ready?" You question, digging your nails into his waist.

"Yea" he pulls his slick fingers out, replacing it with his cock.

He presses his cock head against your hole, whining when he couldn't push pass his tip.

"Can't- too tight" he threw his head back, clawing at your waist.

"Baby.." you smiled, grabbing his chin.

"How about we use that brain of yours? Or are you already fuzzy?" You roughly let go off his face, throwing him a bottle of lube.

"I'm feeling nice, try again."

He repeated his actions from before, opening you up a little more.

"Thank- thank you" he read your mind, I mean how could you spoil him and not get a thank you. How ungrateful.

"So warm" he whines, bucking up into you.

"Shit- hit me, mommy- mama please I want it"

[zivazivc]

What kind of nu metal music fits Les's band?

First of all I gotta clarify that I sent this ask myself because I accidentally lost the original through constant editing and drafting. I realize I could just make a regular text post but I'm quirky like that, and a question is a nice little attention grabber for those who are interested.

Anyway...

It's hard to point at one song and say this is their sound, because A: I'm picky, B: the band's style changes over time, and C: I don't know what I'm doing lmao

This answer is very long uhh I don't seem to be able to form short responses, mi scusi 😅

Back at home the brothers' music and then also the first year on the road with Flea the band sounds like the albums Music and especially Grassroots by 311. (Grassroots is such a banger of an album, I listen to it all the time, really recommend.)

Hed's the main influence on the band's sound because he's the main vocalist, songwriter and overall the most invested in the band succeeding (Les's main concern is making ends meet, and Flea is just enjoying the ride lol). At the start Hed and Les have had basically no contact with Rock Trolls so even though they're both more metal/punk than regular rock, their "rock side" is softer at this point. Hed also grew up with hip hop because of his peers so there's a lot of rapping in his lyrics. And he also incorporates reggae into his style a lot because of his favorite uncle, Kymani (one of the guys who live with Ish) who is a Reggae Troll. Hed is pretty much a sponge when it comes to music, much like Floyd. The closest I can come to describing his genre is a fusion of Rap Metal and Reggae Rock which are both already fusion genres jskksdjsk

(The band 311 has two singers and oddly they both sound like Hed and Les to me. SA Martinez (the higher of the two voices) sounds 100%, exactly like how I've imagined Hed's voice in my head. For Les I have a different voice claim because Les's personal style of music is much different from the band, but Nick Hexum (the lead vocalist here) is still in the second place when it comes to voice alone. Imagine my enthusiastic surprise finding voices for both brothers in the same band 😄)

examples from the two albums:

...

While driving around and performing small gigs they come in contact with the alternative and nu metal scene and meet a lot of Rock Trolls (mostly various Metal Trolls) and other mixed trolls, and in the following couple of years their sound gradually becomes heavier (Hed rediscovers screamo lol) and they go from rock to metal.

A year into their "touring" is also around the time Hed meets and starts dating Liv and gets her to join the band. Liv's genre has the heaviest sound of all of them (Industrial/EBM), which influences Hed and the band too. And with Liv on the drums, Hed takes over DJ-ing and is also able to put more focus on the vocals, which also makes Les step down and only sing backing vocals with the rest of the band if needed.

The band in this era sounds like the album Revolution by Insolence and to some degree Introduction to Mayhem by Primer 55.

examples from the albums:

...

Two years into the bands existence is when Floyd runs into them. At first he's more just standing there, observing their practices and performances warily, because he's had bad experiences with Rock Trolls in his one year alone and metal music still kinda freaks him out at this point. But he soon starts joining in in melodic parts and then it progresses into him singing longer and longer segments because he has the strongest vocals of everyone. And once he saves enough of his earnings for a guitar he starts playing the rhythm guitar too. (The guitar he took with him when he left the Troll Tree got stolen before he met the band.)

I guess I should clarify: Flea is the lead guitarist, Les is the bassist, and Liv and Hed switch on the drums and DJ-ing depending on the track. At one point they also get a keyboard.

It's also not that long before Hed and Floyd start actively writing songs together, sharing each others notes, and they start to split the singing parts more evenly. Hed even teaches Floyd screamo techniques, because he thinks Floyd has a great voice for them (He is correct, Floyd has a mean scream 😁).

During this time the band still pretty much sounds like Revolution by Insolence but with more melodic singing parts from Floyd (and screaming/shouting lmao). I think Verge of Umbra is another good band to compare, it sounds more clean and Floydy but still Hedy. (Man, I should write scientific research papers skjdkjf)

↑↑↑ song with the lyrics from the drawing at the top

From here on out I'm a bit unsure how the band's sound develops, but I'm pretty sure Floyd would unintentionally infect them with a mild case of radio friendliness (Pop trolls can't help their in your face nature lmao 😞). So for now I'm stopping here...

This took me days of searching and writing so I would appreciate to hear any thoughts you have if you've come this far and given some of the songs a listen. :)

[readerthatreadsss]

Requesting more dom!peter 😮‍💨🥵

𝗔/N: Your request is my command! (especially since I've been searching for more dom!Peter fics myself and have been failing so I might as well do it my damn self!) Also, yeah, it's been a damn long time lmao. I planned to finish up and release this like 4 months ago. Then a whole bunch of bad shit happened and I kinda gave up on writing for a little bit (outside of school cause I need that damn Bachelor's degree) BUT I've slowly started reading again and that bled into me opening up my drafts and finding this and spending some time with it. If you couldn't tell I had a shit ton of fun with this one...so feel free to check my newly updated Masterlist and request guidelines and send me more requests! The more I get, the more I'm gonna force myself to actually write them. (If you already sent one just know I’m working on it I promise)

𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 | 𝗧𝗮𝘀𝗺!𝗣𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

(heavily inspired by the song with the same title by Adele.) It came up in my shuffle and when I started listening to the lyrics it was just too perfect.

he's so fucking pretty aghhhh (gif not mine)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Tasm!Peter Parker x Vigilante!Fem reader

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.6k+ (This is my big comeback so I might as well feed yall)

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: You and Peter have been broken up for about 3 years, but when an impromptu visit to your apartment takes a turn...that may no longer be the case...

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 (𝟭𝟴+ 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗡𝗜): SMUT!, lil bit of angst at the end (ex to lovers so ofc), minimal use of y/n, P*rn-with-plot, Reader and Peter are FERAL for each other because of their powers (enhanced senses and all that), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you fuck her silly), a lil possessive Peter, oral (r receiving), fingering, praise kink, Peter using his webs to restrain reader (pre-consented ofc), dom!Peter, sub!Reader (bratty at first tho), pet names (sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, angel), choking, rough sex, brief spanking, other positions, creampie, etc...

The remaining sunlight of the evening bled through your wide studio apartment windows as you finished folding what was left of your newly washed laundry. The plan for the rest of the evening was simple;

Drink two bottles of wine (knowing that your enhanced metabolism would sober the effects), catch up on a few missing assignments to keep your NYU professors off your ass, then jump into your suit and go patrolling.

It was a familiar routine.

Or at least, it had been...since he left.

Your relationship with him ended during your first year of college. To say it hurt like hell would be an immense understatement.

What hurt the most was the fact that you both gave everything you had to make it work...but long distance can be a bitch.

On that warm Saturday night in May, your ex-boyfriend received a call informing him that he had been accepted into a very prestigious engineering program (with a full-ride scholarship attached) all the way in California.

You applied for the very same program, so you knew just how big of an opportunity it would be. And, in good faith, you pushed him to take the offer.

You both insisted, "we'll make it work," and "we'll video chat and text every day. It'll be fine!"

What a load of horseshit.

It took 6 months for you to both arrive at the conclusion that you couldn't juggle your individual academic loads, your nighttime hero personas, AND a long-distance relationship all at the same time. A three-hour time difference didn't help matters either.

It took a while, but you eventually moved on. You kept your grades up, went on a few dates here and there, and even managed to convince yourself that you were doing fine without him.

Until...

*knock knock knock*

Your head peeked out from the fridge to look where you heard the strong yet hesitant knocks on your front door.

Only a handful of people knew where you lived and you weren't expecting to see any of them today.

Assuming it would be a postal worker or someone along those lines, you swung open the door with a polite smile.

"Hi-"

You felt your voice die in your throat as you locked eyes with the deep brown ones you hadn't seen in three years.

"Peter," his name fell from your lips, barely audible.

"Hi, Y/N," he replied with that awkward grin you knew all too well.

His hair was shorter than the last time you saw him, but from the tight fit of his jacket, you could see that was about the only thing about him that shrunk.

You wanted to actually hit yourself in the head for actually imagining yourself doing many things to his large...meaty...biceps- NO, no, no, no get a grip! a voice of logic sounded in your mind.

You hadn't realized how long you stood there silently sizing him up until he spoke again. "Can I...uh...come in, maybe?"

"Umm...sure," you nervously answered, finally taking note of the small cardboard box he was holding.

As you stepped aside to allow him entrance into your apartment, his familiar scent invaded your sensitive senses.

"Oh God," you muttered under your breath, knowing that he heard you, yet unaware that your scent had basically the same effect on him as well.

"You alright?" he turned and asked you in concern trying to hide the tightening of his jeans with the box he brought.

You nodded way too fast, promptly putting some distance between yourself and him. He hadn't been there for longer than 5 seconds and he was already having an effect on you.

"How've you been?" he questioned you, scratching his neck and actively avoiding eye contact. Unbeknownst to you, he was currently repeating every physics law he could remember in his mind to try to quell his growing erection.

It wasn't working very well.

"I've been fine. You?" you quickly spoke, slightly out of breath.

"I-uh-I'm alright," he shook his head with a tight-lipped smile.

He soon found himself just looking at you. It wasn't a blank stare, no, it was the sort of intense look you unintentionally gave someone when trying to commit every single feature to memory as if you weren't certain when you'd get another chance to.

It was a habit of his you noticed a lot when you were dating. And just as it did back then, it sent chills running rampant down your spine. Not to mention your nipples growing obviously hard behind your large shirt with no bra to hide it.

Peter noticed it immediately and fought back a smile, which you glimpsed.

"Why are you here, Peter?" you decided to get down to business before your body betrays you any further.

The brunette let the question hang in the air for a few seconds before actually coming up with an answer. "I wanted to drop these off," he placed the small box on your kitchen counter.

Your eyes immediately narrowed. "You could have mailed it. Or you could've just dropped it at the door and then left. So why are you really here Peter?" you would have felt worse about your tone if you weren't so bothered.

Why the hell did he feel the need to suddenly show up and make you start feeling things you swore you wouldn't feel for him again?

Peter took a deep breath. "Aunt May called me last week. She's not doing too good. So, I came back to help take care of her."

You felt your stomach sink at his words. While you both dated, May grew to be like a second mother to you. You had no idea she was sick.

"Oh shit Peter-I'm so sorry," you crossed the room to engulf him in a hug, despite your initial reaction to his visit.

Peter immediately accepted your hug and found the anxiety in his body dissipating soon after. Your hugs tended to have that effect on him.

He couldn't stop himself from deeply inhaling and drawing in your hair's familiar scent when he wrapped his hands around your clothed waist.

A few seconds passed before you released each other, with you also savoring the feel of his body against you and the way how your skin lit up with goosebumps though there was a thin layer of clothing separating his hands from you.

"I was just cleaning up my old room at May's and I found some of your stuff so I figured I'd drop by and..."

You nodded in understanding and walked over to where he placed the box.

It was mostly filled with old t-shirts, tools, and gadgets from days when you would sleep over at Peter's or stop by to help each other with school projects.

"Thanks," you sent him a smile as you closed the box.

Your smile warmed Peter's heart. It was actually his second favorite thing about you, after your hugs of course. "Yeah, you're welcome," he smiled back, running his hand through his hair. It was a mess by now, but you still wanted to run your hands through it…or maybe even pull on it-

"Sorting through some of this stuff made me realize how much I...missed you," he said, his tone growing more assured.

Thankfully, you were still facing away from him, not giving him the chance to catch the pained expression that briefly crossed your face.

But you could feel him slowly approaching your frozen figure and found your body silently reacting in ways it shouldn't be, yet again. "Do you miss me?" he asked, his voice heavy.

You held back the urge to scream "Yes!" because admitting that out loud would be taking 3 steps backward.

Admitting that you missed him would be undoing all the work and tears you put into moving on from him and the hopes and dreams you had for a life with him.

Admitting that you missed him would mean giving in to the part of you that thought back to your most intimate moments with him when you touched yourself.

And admitting that you missed him would mean letting him back into the four-cornered box you had locked yourself in for the past 3 years.

But, with every step closer that he took, your resolve disappeared that much faster.

"You okay?" he called for your attention.

Your sharp intake of oxygen brought a tense silence over the room when you turned to face him and realized that he stood close enough for your lips to nearly brush his.

"Peter, I-" you tried to form words, but then you saw his lust-filled brown eyes lower to your lips.

And that was all it took for the last of your self-control to disappear.

"Damn it," you mumbled once you realized what was about to happen.

Before Peter could question your outburst, you found yourself latching onto his jacket lapels and pulling him down to meet your lips.

It took mere milliseconds for Peter to react. After all, he had been thinking about doing this since you swung open the door and looked up at him with those eyes of yours.

His large calloused hands took hold of the sides of your face as you clashed in a heap of teeth and tongue. It was desperate and feverish but it was perfect.

It was a language only you and Peter seemed to master, even now after three years apart.

Your lips moved swiftly against his, eager to taste more and more of him with each passing second. You felt him press his growing bulge flush against you, causing a pathetic whine to involuntarily tumble from your lips and a smirk to find its way onto his.

"I did miss you," you softly spoke, "but we can't do this Peter," the logical part of your brain made an appearance, though you kept peppering his lips with kisses.

As his lips moved to your neck, Peter's hands slid down to your ass where he effortlessly lifted your legs off the ground and up around his waist. The feeling of his hands against the bare skin of your thighs garnered yet another moan from you.

"You don't sound so sure angel," you felt him smirk against your heated skin.

You hadn’t heard that nickname in years yet it sent small chills down your spine for the second time that night.

A mumbled curse slipped your lips when he nipped a particular spot below your ear. That was definitely gonna leave a mark.

You soon gathered the strength to pull Peter's hungry lips away from your body, swinging your arms around his neck to hold yourself up.

"We can’t go back from this, you know that right?" you spoke, the both of you panting from the effects of the last minute.

"I don't wanna go back," Peter shook his head, "I wanna fuck you, right here, right now," his lips immediately found yours before his words could fully resonate.

This caught you by surprise which allowed Peter to slip his tongue between your lips.

As his taste continued to flood your senses, you felt yourself grow alarmingly wet.

Peter knew it too because he slowly pulled back and smirked down at you. "I could smell you from the moment I walked in here. Glad to see three years hasn't changed the way your body reacts to me, angel," he accompanied his words with a quick slap to your ass.

His slap and the familiar pet name left you a moaning mess. Just like he knew it would.

A lovely laugh left Peter's mouth before his lips met yours again.

He walked your entangled bodies over to the kitchen counter without breaking the sloppy kiss.

Peter used one hand to blindly clear the counter and place you on it, which sent your box of things flying toward the floor.

Not that either of you cared.

"Too much clothes," you were barely able to say in between kisses.

You followed up by shoving Peter's jacket off his shoulders which fell to your hardwood floors with a thud. He immediately got the message and got rid of his t-shirt as well.

A shameless whimper left your lips at the sight of his very toned muscles. You easily maneuvered Peter's body closer to you and began kissing and sucking his neck and every other available inch of skin just as you had pictured earlier, making sure to leave a few purple bruises in your wake.

“You’re killing me here baby,” Peter harshly swallowed, his eyes sliding closed as you continued to have your way with his chest.

"Wouldn't be a terrible way to die though, right?" you mumbled between lovebites and licks. You felt like an animal in heat but you just couldn't get enough of him, the occasional flex of his muscles with each slither of your tongue and his deep groans only egging you on more.

The taste of his skin alone could've made you cum easily.

But the same could be said for Peter as the feel of your tongue slithering all along his chest had him practically creaming his pants then and there.

Fucking enhanced senses, he cursed inwardly.

“Alright, ease up pretty girl,” he reluctantly grabbed your head, detaching your swollen lips from his body.

“Your turn,” he tugged at the hem of your top.

You quickly pulled off the oversized t-shirt you were wearing to reveal your bare top half to him.

He spared no time in cupping your breasts with his eager hands. "Fuck, I missed you so much," he mumbled.

"Me, or my boobs?" you jokingly raised a brow at him.

"Definitely both," he grinned, bringing his mouth down to your tits.

As his tongue made contact with the soft mounds, you loudly moaned and wrapped your fingers in his unruly tangle of hair.

He switched between nipping and sucking on your nipples, in the way he knew you liked, while his free hand pinched and squeezed the other.

"Just like that Peter fuck-" hearing his name fall from your lips drove Peter insane.

His tongue flicked your sensitive nipples harder, and his eager sucking pleased you to no end.

Peter eventually pried himself away from your supple breasts, remembering the other parts of you he wanted to worship, and brought his hands to rest on the sides of your head. Your lips connected once more in a delicate kiss.

Though you knew what lay ahead for the evening, you were both perfectly content with each other's lips at the moment, just enjoying the constant waves of pleasure from the intimate contact.

But it wasn't long before the kiss grew heated and you tried to take control. Peter, however, wasn't giving you a chance.

"I leave for three years and you think you're hot shit, huh," he smirked.

"Why don't you ask the guy I fucked on this counter last week," you retorted, knowingly riling him up.

"Don't say shit like that, it's not funny," he nearly growled as his grip on your ass grew more forceful.

You secured your grip on his hair before pressing a small kiss on the side of his lips. "Gimme a reason to shut up then," you challenged him.

“Trust me, I will,” Peter grabbed your hands from his hair and forced them to your sides. His movements were swift as he laid you flat on your counter and ripped your thong off your body.

There he is, you smiled to yourself. This is the Peter you wanted to fucking ruin you.

You felt his face ghost your drenched opening as he deeply inhaled your scent. "You smell fucking delicious baby," he praised you, his mouth actually watering at the thought of tasting you.

A genuine smile found its way onto your face but morphed into a gasp when Peter teasingly ran his tongue up your sensitive slit.

"You taste even better," he added, using his strong arms to bring your thighs closer to his head. He wanted to tease you but it was getting harder to resist the urge to dive right into your heat like a man starved.

"Holy shit," you all but screamed as he briefly nipped at your swollen clit before sucking on it to soothe the sting.

His grip on your thighs combined with the ministrations of his tongue was pure bliss.

You attempted to slip your hands in his hair once more, but found that they were suddenly held in place against your counter by two of his webs.

Your eyes briefly widened at the feel of the rough, sticky material against your wrists, not having felt it in a few years. Back then, you expressed to Peter your desire to engage in some bondage, but being the daughter of a super soldier, it was clear that no rope or wire would be able to hold you. Peter's webs became the next best choice.

"That's not fair," you pouted, though it melded into a moan as Peter continued to suck and lick between your glistening folds.

The sounds of Peter devouring you resounded through the small apartment.

"I'm close Pete," you whined, your chest heaving in arousal.

Peter decided to focus his tongue on your eager bundle of nerves while he slowly inserted two fingers into your pussy. He instantly curled the digits causing you to briefly squirm at the sudden pressure against your G-spot.

"More," you begged, and Peter delivered, adding another finger inside of you. He immediately sped up his motion inside of you, making sure his fingers gauged that spongy spot to drive you over the edge with each thrust inside of you.

“That feels so fucking good, Peter, oh my God," you loudly moaned at the feeling of his fingers inside of you, calling forth an orgasm with no warning.

You repeatedly bucked against Peter's face as you came, white-hot pleasure filling your veins. Peter locked onto your stare, still skillfully working his fingers in and out of you, loving the way you constantly clenched around his fingers.

"Jesus fucking Christ," your legs jerked when Peter dove in and drank every ounce of slick you had to give while still fucking you with his fingers.

With his face now damp of your juices, Peter looked up to meet your blissed-out eyes. "Gimme one more, angel," he placed a soft kiss on your thighs, "I know you can do it for me."

You would do anything to keep Peter's mouth between your legs.

So, you eagerly nodded in response before taking a deep breath in preparation for another onslaught.

You didn't have to wait long.

Peter’s tongue went to work on your glistening hole while his fingers fiddled with your overstimulated clit. And, within minutes, your thighs were trapping Peter's head as an even bigger orgasm rocked you again, the borderline pornographic sounds leaving your lips shooting straight to his hardened cock.

Peter seemed perfectly fine with staying between your legs all night, but you had other plans.

"Pete, I need you inside me," you begged, tears of pleasure leaking from your eyes.

He rose from beneath you and climbed up to free your hands from his webs. "I know, baby, I know," he softly replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips and using his hands to soothe your reddened wrists. Your own taste on his tongue flooded your senses which made you even more desperate.

Peter obliged, slipping out of his sweatpants and sliding his girth between your folds. He used one hand to hold himself up above you on the counter, and the other to slowly guide his dick into you.

You both shared a long moan as he buried himself to the hilt inside your pussy, your wetness making it way too easy.

He held still for a few seconds, waiting for you to adjust and give the all clear for him to move.

Eagerness guided your words. “Fuck me, please.”

Peter set a brutal pace, knowing you were more than capable of handling it. Satisfied cries left your chest as you dragged your nails along Peter’s back, hard enough to leave trails.

“You can take it, pretty girl, I know you can,” he groaned as he continued to pound into you, trying desperately not to blow his load with the way you were constantly clenching around him and marking his back.

You tried to reply, but all that you could form were sloppy moans and broken syllables.

“Oh look at you, drunk on my cock already?” he teased with a particularly hard slam that prodded your cervix, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Pleasure-filled cries mingled with words continued to fall from your lips as Peter gently moved a few fallen strands of hair behind your ear with a hand. "-feels so fucking perfect," you muttered, your lips curved into a drunken smile.

Peter reached down and pinched one of your nipples, gaining a loud whimper from you. “I love hearing you make those pretty sounds for me baby,” his strokes grew harder and deeper.

“All for you, Pete, all for you,” you panted as he fucked into you, the delicious smell and sound of sex lingering in the air.

Peter used a hand to wrap around your throat before using the other to reach down and fiddle with your aching clit.

The combination of Peter’s dick hitting that perfect spot, his fingers massaging your clit, and the lack of air from his hand around your neck was making you dizzy and overstimulated.

You fucking loved it.

“God, I missed you,” you spoke breathlessly.

He moved closer to kiss you briefly and tenderly. “I missed you too, baby.”

No amount of time could take away his knowledge on how to please you, how to get you like this with ease, not when you were all he thought about for years on end.

Peter pressed a quick kiss to your forehead then continued to fuck you on your kitchen counter.

"I'm gonna cum again baby, right fucking there," you moaned out.

Peter's grip on your neck grew tighter. "Not yet, don't you cum until I tell you to sweetheart," he commanded you, removing his fingers from your clit.

A frustrated groan rumbled in your chest as you forced yourself to sustain your orgasm.

"Don't pout," he smirked.

And before you could realize it, Peter had pulled out of you and effortlessly flipped you onto your stomach.

A hand soon gripped your hair, yanking you up against his chest and eliciting a pitiful whine from you.

"Tell me what you want,” Peter commanded, using his free hand to strike your ass. Hard.

You whimpered again at the sting of his slap. “I need you inside me. Please,” you pleaded.

He seized your hair harsher and leaned forward for his lips to graze against your ears. “Beg.”

A small whine left your lips at his words. You were so desperate you didn’t even care how embarrassing this would be in retrospect. “I need to cum, Peter. Please baby you're the only one who can make me cum.”

Peter pressed a kiss to your neck, nearly causing you to lose your footing. And he soon complied by ramming himself back into you.

“Oh my Fuck-“ you cried before biting your lip, suddenly aware that you had neighbors.

But Peter pulled his cock from your heat, with just the tip remaining, before roughly slamming into you, his hips slamming against your ass with the motion. “Come on, lemme hear you angel.”

He repeated the action, knocking the air out of your chest, “Peter!” your hands gripped the sides of your counter with such force you were sure you felt it crack under your grasp.

Peter caught wind of this and freed your hair before using his hands to pull your hands behind your back. "You're so perfect baby," he mumbled in your ear, continuing to brutally fuck you from behind, "So fucking beautiful with my cock inside you."

"I can't hold it anymore," you cried, "I need to cum, Peter, please."

With that whiny tone and those overstimulated tears to top it off, Peter couldn't deny you any longer. "Let it all out for me sweetheart. Cum for me," he littered your shoulders with kisses.

Your eyes slammed shut as your walls contracted around his cock, pleasure shooting through you and rocking you on a seemingly cellular level. Your mouth opened in a silent moan, unable to form a sound from the satisfied tremors attacking your nerves. The intensity of your finish is one only brought on when Peter fucked you and it was damn near cosmic.

"Shit," you groaned in relief, your long-awaited climax passing.

Peter slowed his movements inside of you and released your hands. "You did so good for me angel," he pushed your hair aside and kissed your neck, trying to stave off his own orgasm for a little while longer.

Aftershocks rocked your body while Peter continued sporadically moving inside of you, yet you couldn't get enough. Your body was more than ready to keep taking whatever he dished out.

Peter didn't need to read your mind to see that, but he needed to make sure. His lips kept up their onslaught on your neck as he softly spoke, "You wanna keep going?"

"Hell yes," you panted with a grin that he couldn't fully see, "You still haven't cum yet, and my bed is still fully made."

Happy with your response, Peter gave your ass a sharp smack. "That's my girl."

He pulled out of you and turned your body to face him, smiling at the sight of your fucked out face. "Three orgasms and a handful of tears later and you're still the most beautiful girl in the world," he held you by the sides of your face.

His words left you reeling, causing a slight blush to dust your cheeks and butterflies to swirl within your stomach.

Before you could form a response, Peter leaned down to kiss you. He soon hoisted up your legs around his waist, preparing to escort you to your bed as per your own demands.

As he looked around for the bed's location, you took advantage of his momentary distraction and latched your lips onto his neck, reapplying the bruises you left there that were slowly fading already.

Peter was the happiest man on earth as he walked over to your bed, his cock prodding your soaked entrance, and your lips ravaging his neck.

He carefully sat on the edge of your bed, with you now on his lap and your legs still around him. You expected him to ease his length back into you but he slowly brought your head down to meet his intense stare.

You carefully wrapped your hands around his shoulders to keep yourself up, the silence in the room growing deafening.

You could tell from his eyes that he desperately wanted to say something, and you wondered if it was the same thing you had been considering as well.

But you were both aware of what saying those words would mean for your broken relationship and simply settled for smiles instead.

Peter brought a hand up to lay your forehead against his, allowing your breathing to momentarily sync.

"You ready for me?" he questioned you with a hand at the nape of your neck to hold your head against his.

You immediately nodded in response causing his own head to shake in time with yours. A small laugh was shared between you both as your nose continued to brush his own.

"You're adorable," you said before you could stop yourself.

That stupid full-toothed grin that you hadn't seen in a while soon spread across his beautiful face at your words, gaining another laugh from you.

"Last round?” you eventually pleaded with a smile.

"Anything for you," Peter replied, meaning it in every way. Adoration littered his stare as he slowly lowered you onto his length.

A satisfied mewl slipped your lips at the familiar feel of him.

The slow drag of his cock in and out of you, while he rocked your hips back and forth to grind on him, had your bottom lip sucked between your teeth with eyes closed and head thrown back in pleasure.

But Peter wanted to see it all. He wrapped a hand around your neck and forced you to meet his dilated eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, baby.”

His soft yet stern tone caused you to swallow back a moan as you continued to move on his girth.

He then slapped your ass with his free hand, silently urging you to move faster.

You leaned down and quickly kissed his lips before happily obliging, now beginning to bounce in his lap, chasing your next climax.

“There you go angel, just like that,” Peter’s stare never wavered.

Peter furiously fucked up into you, your moans and the constant smack of skin on skin filling the apartment.

His other hand which never left your throat now squeezed it harder. “Fuck!” You were barely able to moan out as your breasts bounced with your every move.

“Shit, you’re gripping me like a vice,” Peter groaned, his crude pace never faltering though his orgasm was closer than ever.

Your bed creaked under the onslaught of your bodies, but neither of you payed it any attention only having one goal in mind.

“One more time,” Peter planted his feet on the ground to get a better angle, "Need you to cum on my cock one more time."

But from the broken pacing of his hips to the strong furrow of his brow, you could tell he was close too. “Together?” You breathlessly suggested, grasping the nape of his neck with your hands.

Peter nodded in agreement before engulfing your chest and back with his arms, pulling you closer to his body.

Your breaths mingled, eyes focused on nothing except each other as his grip on your upper body allowed him to help you ride him even faster.

"Yes, Pete, oh my God-" pleas, curses, and moans tumbled from your lips as your skin buzzed at your incoming release.

"There you go, cum for me," Peter's voice grew strangled as his hips stuttered below you.

"Fuck," you wailed, your finish hitting you like a freight train and your pussy leaking into Peter's length.

The intense clench of your walls around him was all it took for Peter to explode with a groan, his pace faltering with that final pump.

"Holy shit baby," he panted, his cum painting your walls in spurts.

His firm hold on your body brought you collapsing on your bed together, satisfied and smiling.

And, for what felt like hours, you lay there in his arms. But of course, your thoughts began to run rampant.

Peter could damn near hear your thoughts spiraling.

"I don't regret this," he suddenly broke the silence you had elapsed into, "Do you?"

"Peter I-...I don't know," you freed yourself from his hold and sat up to look at him.

His brows furrowed at your response, hurt briefly flashing across his features.

"I loved you," you spoke, "I loved you more than anything."

"I know. I loved you too," Peter nodded with a small smile.

"And I will never blame you for leaving. Ever," you slipped a hand in his own and squeezed briefly.

"But?"

Your eyes stung with tears threatening to fall. "What happened to us, it damn near destroyed me, Peter. And it took so so long to put myself back together."

Peter swallowed harshly at your words.

"And then here you come, waltzing in here, fucking my brains out and making me feel things," you lowered your head, looking away from him.

You heard Peter move closer to you before feeling him lift your chin to face him again. His expression wasn't as disappointed as you'd expected, just confused. "Spit it out. I know you're holding something back."

"Why'd you come back here and-and do all this? Reminding me of what we had when you know you're gonna be gone again in the next few weeks?" you felt your voice shrink to a broken whisper.

Peter used his thumb to wipe away a lone tear that fell from your eye, his previously puzzled look now morphing into a smirk. There was obviously something he wasn't telling you.

You sniffled and lightly hit Peter's shoulder. "Well, now it's your turn bug face, spit out whatever you're hiding!"

You received no answer other than Peter leaning forward and pressing a deep kiss against your lips. You eagerly accepted and returned the spontaneous action but were left even more confused when he pulled away.

"That wasn't an answer," you arched a brow at Peter.

"I'm not going anywhere," he smiled.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm moving back to New York, or already moved, technically," he began to explain.

Your mouth opened and closed in shock as your brain fumbled for a response and came up inconclusive.

"I'm gonna finish out the school year online and stay here to take care of Aunt May. I mean it, baby, I'm not going anywhere," he grinned, watching tears of joy fall from your eyes.

"This better not be some sick fucking joke Peter, I swear to God," you pointed a finger at him accusingly.

"Can you shut up and just come here?"

You couldn't help but laugh as you obliged and grabbed Peter's neck before pulling him in for another kiss, your face still wet from tears and a smile almost permanently etched onto your face.

You pulled away but sank into his open arms. You relished how securely he held you. "I'm so happy," you said aloud, truly meaning it for the first time in a long time, though it was only meant to be an inner thought.

Peter kissed your forehead and looked down to meet your eyes, "I'll never stop making you happy, Y/N."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

[mintsturniolo]

alcohol and heartbreak (c.s)

bsf!chris sturniolo x f!reader

a/n: this one been sitting in the drafts lmao for months. edited kind of? reacquainting myself with angst cause i haven't written something like this since my last fandom

summary: when chris's girlfriend cheats on him he finds himself drunk at his best friend's doorstep

warnings: angst, crying, alcohol... idk. no happy ending ig

Hurt didn’t begin to describe how Chris felt at this moment. He felt broken. Betrayed. He never knew his heart could physically hurt the way it did. His whole body hurt. Currently he was wandering through the streets of Boston. Matt and Nick had tried to stop him from leaving. They wanted to know what was wrong. Chris just didn’t have the energy to tell anyone what had happened. When Sierra had said forever he’d believed it. The last thing he’d expected was to be sent proof that his girlfriend was cheating on him. As if things could get worse, when confronted, Sierra didn’t even deny it.

How could Chris go from loving someone so much to hating them? How could he miss the red flags? What did he do to deserve this? It felt like it was always him. Matt and Nick had gotten their significant others, yet when it was turn, everything went wrong.

Tears streamed down Chris’s face as he found himself in the parking lot of a bar. He wasn’t one to drink. He’d always been against it. Tonight he needed a drink. He knew he would regret it later, but he didn’t care.

Almost two hours passed, and Chris didn’t know how but he found himself sitting at the bar with a third bottle of some drink he didn’t know in his hands. Everything felt like it was spinning and blurry. Everyone’s voices sounded like they were under water. His cheeks felt warm and wet, but he couldn’t figure out. “Sir. Excuse me sir?”

Chris looked up to see the bartender looking at him with a concerned look on his face. “Hmmmm,” he hummed tracing the rim of the bottle with his finger.

“Are you okay? Why are you crying? Do you need me to call someone to take you home?” the bartender asked.

Chris shook his head as he got to his feet. “M’fine,” he slurred. “Thanks.”

He tried to stand up, but almost collapsed. “Woah,” the bartender said, coming around to help Chris. “Is there anyone you want me to call?”

Chris shook his head as he steadied himself. “I can make it where I need to go,” he mumbled placing some money on the bar. “Thanks.”

The bartender nodded and went back to what he was doing as Chris stumbled out the door.

***your pov ***

You were in the kitchen of your small apartment, cleaning up when you heard a knock at your door. “Hello?” you asked, looking up.

When you got no response you made your way to the door and opened it. You gasped at the sight in front of you. Your best friend Chris was leaning heavily against the doorframe, his eyes were red, and tears streaked down his face. “What happened hun?” you asked worriedly, as you led him inside and closed the door.

“She cheated…” was all he managed to say as more tears started to run down his face.

You were stunned as you watched Chris stumble across the room and opened the fridge. He turned to you with a half empty bottle of tequila in his hand that he had just found. “Chris…” you sighed. “Join me on the couch?” you offered.

Chris shrugged and took the offer. He was silent for a couple minutes, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. You placed a hand on his knee, causing him to glance at you briefly. “You want to talk about it? Do you just want to go to bed? You can have the guest room.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Chris muttered, and you could hear the anger starting to build in his voice.

You shrugged as you watched Chris take a sip of the tequila. “We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” you replied. “Whatever you want.”

Chris didn’t reply as he stood up, and you assumed he was about to take your offer of the guest bedroom. He turned towards you, looking defeated. “I was scared. You know that?”

You looked up at him. “Scared?”

“My biggest fear has always been the vulnerability that comes with relationships,” Chris replied. “I told her that. I fucking told her that.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you chose to sit quietly and let Chris rant. Chris took another sip of tequila as he started pacing. “You know how she responded when I asked about what I’d heard?”

You shook your head. You could see a look in Chris's eyes that you'd never seen before. “She didn’t even react. She just said she was interested in the other guy now. Could she not just have the guts to break up with me?” Chris ranted, raising his voice with every sentence.

“I’m sorry,” was all you managed to say as you watched Chris get more restless by the second.

“I did everything for her. I was there for her and she turns around and throws it in my face,” Chris snapped at no one in particular.

You nodded quietly. You knew what he’d gone through with that girl. You had witnessed him constantly do everything for her and put her over so many different opportunities he could’ve had.

Chris was shaking as tears started to roll down his flushed cheeks again. Your heart hurt for your friend as you watched him try to calm himself down. The amount of alcohol Chris had consumed tonight seemed to be having an effect as his rage changed to sadness. His blue eyes swam in tears as he let the glass bottle he was still holding slip from his hands and shatter on the floor. “What am I doing wrong?” he slurred, starting to sway slightly.

You stood up and hurried to his side, avoiding the broken glass the best you could. “Nothing. It’s not your fault,” you tried to assure him.

That was all it took for the dam to break. “I know. It’s okay,” was all you could think to say as you listened to Chris’s heartbreaking sobs.

It was several minutes before Chris’s sobs quieted. You brushed his hair out of his eyes and sighed. “I know it hurts.”

“She didn’t even care,” Chris said tearfully.

You wiped a stray tear from his cheek. “Come back to the couch with me?”

The two of you settled back on the couch and you pulled Chris in for a hug. “She didn’t deserve you. I’m so sorry,” you whispered, running your fingers through Chris’s hair.

Chris was quiet as he stayed in your arms and you knew he was exhausted from the combination of alcohol and emotions. His breathing started to slow and you glanced down to see his eyes starting to close. You started to offer the guest bedroom to him again, but you didn’t think he would be able to stay standing and you certainly couldn’t take his full weight. You reached for the blanket next to you and gently covered Chris with it “M’sorry,” he slurred. “Bout the glass. I’ll clean it up.”

You shook your head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll clean it up later.”

“Hmmm,” Chris hummed.

You absentmindedly scratched Chris’s back as you closed your eyes. It would be a long day tomorrow, and you know Chris wouldn’t remember anything from tonight.

Taglist

@adirtylittleheart @sturniolo04 @yourenogoodforme @flouvela @mattyblover07 @sturnioloveniamh @slutforsturniolos

[floylia]

ELYSIAN ♫

09. Hurt to try

Visiting has never felt more invasive.

A large screen rested in the middle. Two massive, black speakers sat on each side of his desk with a small piano perched on top. A white shelf filled with trinkets and golden awards stood beside his stand-up microphone. An array of purple and silver acoustic panels hung around the wall, and you can’t forget the line of guitars laying in a fashionable order.

“Your studio is cleaner than I thought,” you whispered in awe, eyes bouncing around the small room.

Scara scoffed as he dropped his belongings on the grey sofa near the door, “What did you take me for?”

“A gremlin who never leaves his cave filled with chip wrappers and empty cans of energy drinks,” you shrugged, eyes still wandering.

He rolled his eyes and headed to his desk to start his computer up, “Don’t compare me to Aether.”

“You’re lucky he’s not here.”

“What’s his short ass going to do?”

“You’re the same height.”

“Allegedly,” Scara stood from his seat, urging you to take his spot, “I’ll find another chair, you can sit in mine or look around–I might take a while.”

You went to his shelves. You saw a picture of him when he was younger, wearing a volleyball jersey and holding a trophy with his teamates, one of them you recognized—Childe—they must have been childhood friends.

Then you saw another picture, one with his family. It was his highschool graduation, wearing a cap and gown with a stash that boldly displayed “validictorian,” – his mother, Ei, stood on his left, radiating an elegant smile, while his aunt, Nahida, stood on his right, pinching his cheeks with a mischievous grin. They must have been proud of him.

The next one was 5WIRL’s first concert. They were all young, bright with aspirations, beaming at the large crowd despite being rookies. Beside it, you saw a small octopus plush–Marlin–next to a polaroid picture with you two–a photo you’ve never seen before. You snapped a picture of it.

“[name]—” Scara entered with the chair.

You placed the picture down and trailed him.

“Are those all your songs?” you pointed at the screen.

He shook his head, “There’s more I’d like to do, but I want you to listen to this one.”

He passed you the headphones.

You wore it, “What is it called?”

“Bewitched.”

The song started out slow with a piano. His voice was smooth—different from his usually raspy voice. You took everything in—the lyrics, the melody, and piano. His stare was intense, observing every bit of your reaction.

“Did you like it?” He asked.

You grinned at his expectant face, “I love it, are you adding this? I’d be a crime not to.”

“I was planning on making it my title track,” he paused, “And if you agreed before, I wanted you to finish the second verse.”

“Oh.” It’d be a shame…

“Yeah.”

You stared at the giant screen, “…Can I see the lyrics?”

He flipped through his notebook, you see glances of his other works, scribbles of words and phrases only his brain could think of–one of the many reasons why you admire him.

He gave you the page, “It's a work in progress, but that’s the draft.”

“Can I try?”

Kunikuzushi smiled, “Of course.”

notes:

i lied im more excited for the next chapter (had to break this scene in two)

im on a roll with these updates and then ill ghost again idk jk

synopsis: After 7 years of enduring the media’s relentless pursuit of painting you as a villain, you’re forced to go through an indefinite hiatus with a tainted reputation on your head. However, just when you thought your career was over, a certain 5WIRL member wants you to feature on his solo career. Surely, this won’t affect your reputation once more, would it?

Scaramouche x fem!reader

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[byuljoonie]

moonlight // knj

I’m sorry baby I’m just really hot…

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: one shot, slight angst, fluff, growing tension, boyfriend material, extreme smut, desperation, succubus intentions…

word count: 5k+ (sorry)

warnings: mentions of mature topics, spit, namjoon driving lmao, thigh humping bcs desperate, throat goat, dom!sub, dom rm!sub reader, alcohol consumption, probably a good amount of swearing, post-gym namjoon, grocery store activities, slight car play, teasing, oral, summer night, riding, overstimulation, a little masochism

summary: namjoon promised to go to the grocery store with you after the gym (extended ending on ao3)

note: just had what cody ko and noel would call a “power thought.” I literally just had a spark of inspiration bcs it’s really hot in the south right now and Namjoon’s vogue cover is to die for. enjoy and feel free to check out any of my playlists while reading. Sorry for any little mistakes. gonna make a tag list after I post 10 works! -ash (wrote this draft a few months ago so it might be slightly more extreme than expected.)

My reflection stared back at me, tracing the movement of the cloth against my skin. The long slit of the black fabric starts by the left knee and leaves an opening at the bottom of the dress. My manicured feet sat firmly against the hardwood bedroom floor, grounding me away from my persistent thoughts. I grabbed my sunglasses from the stand mounted on the cream walls and turned swiftly on my heels. Abandoning the mirror with a grimace on my face.

I loved this dress very much, the long sleeves light and airy protecting me from the harsh summer rays. The way it hugs my figure is like someone familiar. The same someone that bought this dress for me. He crossed my mind once more sending another surge of anger through me.

Namjoon promised to come along to the grocery store with me today but he’s been at the gym for almost 2 hours now. He said he’d only be gone an hour but an hour quickly turned to two, now I’m dressed and past ready to go. I hated going to crowded stores, at this rate we’ll never beat the after-work rush.

I sat on the bed putting on my anklet he gifted me for our 3 year anniversary. Yet another gift that I’m wearing today, being spoiled ruining my plans of holding a grudge tonight on our date. I slipped on some black socks and made my way towards the door. Listening as the front door swings open with a beep of the automatic keypad.

I excitedly descend the stairs, my black dress sweeping the floor behind me beautifully like a wedding gown flowing in the summer breeze. The second step I’ve already failed at trying to be mad at him.

“Baby! Where you at?” He says deep voice roaring through our apartment. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs almost running into his chest. He smiled at me taking in all of my body, returning to my eyes after his brief but thorough inspection.

“Right here NAMjoon,” I stated putting extra emphasis on his surname. I watched as his chest rose and fell with every breath, his skin glistened with sweat. Tan skin accentuating his muscular frame, my mouth parted slightly at the sight. He looked heavenly I almost lost my composure.

“I’m sorry I took so long Y/N my trainer wouldn’t let me leave until the workout was complete,” he said walking towards me. Smirking at the way my eyes followed his every movement.

“You look so gorgeous Princess, this dress is perfect for you,” he said pulling me into a tight embrace. Grabbing a handful of my ass as he reached over to rest his chin on my shoulder. I yelp in surprise at the sudden groping, melting into his body and giving up on being angry. I wanted to take him right now but first, we need food or we’ll be eating out for another week before we have time to shop again.

“Whatever Joon go shower we have to leave as soon as possible and you’re stinky,” I said pulling away from him and then standing on my tippy toes to kiss him quickly. He kissed me back beginning to deepen it before I push him away again. I give him a knowing look and bid him goodbye as I walk to the kitchen to make him a snack to eat in the car. The store was about a 25 minute drive from us but it was worth it for the produce.

I grab a few ingredients from the fridge to make him a nice sandwich with an everything bagel. I prepared everything quickly and put it in a small ziplock bag next to my purse. I heard Namjoon exiting our bedroom 15 minutes later, humming a sweet tune in his beautiful vibrato.

“Come on babe I already have the car warming up,” he said grabbing my hand and lightly pulling me next to him. He’s wearing a light brown shirt with a pair of distressed blue jeans. Looking as handsome as always I drink in his appearance for eternity. We walked to the elevator quietly, Namjoon tapping away on his phone until the elevator doors opened to be let us out.

As we walk towards our car I begin to sweat a little, the setting Sun still scorching my skin like its’ noonday twin. I started to speed up a little pulling Namjoon along so I could feel the relief of the A/C sooner than later. He swung the door open for me making sure my dress wasn’t in the way before shutting the door.

Namjoon jumps in quickly closing the door before the heat could penetrate the closed air. It still wasn’t cool enough in here, with the sun beaming directly on our vehicle the A/C felt like lukewarm hell. I let down the window hastily fanning myself as we pulled out of the parking lot.

After I few minutes of fanning and desperation, I looked over and behold a sight that would make any woman yearn in an instant. A head of sweat moved swiftly down the expanse of Namjoons golden jaw. Resting at the base before dropping down onto his slightly exposed shoulder. His lips rose colored from his unconscious biting. I wanted to reach over and swallow him whole, I crave him so bad I can’t help but squeeze my legs together at the thought.

I was so caught up in my sinful thoughts I didn’t notice him glance over at me. A twinkle in his eye set off the indication of a torturous idea. Namjoon placed his large hand on my thigh, causing me to tense up instantly. Before I could utter a word he reached over my leg and grabbed his sandwich from my lap.

His smile turning into a stifled laugh as he continued to stare straight ahead. I must have let out the small noise I was holding in because he seemed to know exactly what would tick me off right now. I turned my attention towards the windshield trying to focus on the passing cars and people watching. Then an idea popped into my head.

I pull out my phone and open the group chat I have with our 6 best friends. I stop and think of what to type before another brilliant idea is brought to me. I pose provocatively making sure my cleavage was “present,” in my photo. I took a couple of pictures, some with sunglasses and some staring at Namjoon. He patiently drove, oblivious to my sly intentions. He hummed along to one of his favorite songs looking over at me to shoot me a wink.

I giggled and looked away almost feeling bad for what I’m going to do. Yet not bad enough because I went ahead and sent the photos with a message. “Should I post these on my close friends? I don’t know if I look good enough today…” I said ending with a sad face. It didn’t take long for our phones to simultaneously vibrate. Secretly glancing over at Namjoon, I unlock my phone knowing he can’t check his until we’re in the lot.

Hobi ddaeng: You look great !! Of course, you should post it, Namjoon talk some sense into her.

Me: He’s driving right now. I didn’t ask for his opinion yet I want to hear you guys first :)

Park Chanel: ooooh…I see…

Park Chanel: If you don’t post the pictures I will! Wow wow you look beautiful. Nice..dress and necklace.

I looked down at my neck realizing I didn’t wear a necklace today. Oh Jimin you’re evil Namjoon is going to kill me and you. I laughed a little at his crude behavior and read the next incoming message.

Yoongi: You’re gonna get hit Jimin *laughing emojis*

Me: mmm just because you guys said so I will post it hehe

Before I could read the next response I felt the car shake as we pulled into the grocery store parking lot. I quickly went on my sns and posted two of the pictures on my close friends. Picking the two the boys liked the most. I was starting to get nervous, I know how possessive he is with me and I’m the same but I want revenge for making me frustrated.

Namjoon pulls into an open parking spot almost near the front of the bustling building. I take off my seatbelt with a click grabbing my purse from my lap and swinging the door open. I wanted to beat Namjoon inside before he could read the texts and catch me. As I hurriedly closed the door I saw him reading the messages, jaw tensing with rage.

I hear him call my name from the car and a slam of a car door followed behind the sound of his sexy voice. His long legs easily closing the space between us as he grabbed my hand, squeezing it while looking at me. I put my shades on ignoring his questions. Stroking the back of his hand as I never break eye contact with the automatic sliding doors.

“Can you get us a cart pet?” I froze at the nickname. He knows what he’s doing, and I don’t plan on breaking that fast. I let go of his hand briefly going to grab the first cart I saw. Cleaning the handle before strutting back over to my boyfriend as he eyed me intensely.

I let him grab the cart from me but not before pulling him down to whisper in his ear. “Anything for you Daddy..” I say in a hushed tone. Making sure to leave a kiss on his sensitive earlobe as I pull away.

I walk forward trying not to laugh at the silly nickname I used to get him riled up. He trailed behind me, failing to hide his blatant staring at my ass. We make our way down the aisles trying to speed up the process as people begin piling into the store.

“Joonie baby I can’t reach this,” I said struggling to reach the box of goldfish on the top shelf. He moved over to me in a flash, pressing his front flush against my back. I heard his breathing stop as I purposely pushed my ass against him.

“This one, this one, this one, or this one…” He trailed off purposely picking the wrong boxes to tease me. He finally grabbed the correct item and tossed it in the cart. Walking away as if he didn’t leave me speechless and flustered on the cracker aisle.

I follow him to the snack aisle after grabbing a few bottles of wine and champagne for our date tonight. The empty aisle presents another opportunity for me to assert my dominance. I walk over to the chips looking at them inquisitively as if I’m mocking a character.

“Honey do you want this kind or this kind?” I said while bending over. Making sure to sway slowly as I wait for an answer. “Babe? Which-“ I was cut short as a hand firmly grabbed my ass causing me to yelp in surprise and sit up straight.

“I want this one right here,” he growled in my ear. I turned around and looked at him, watching his eyes darken with hunger. “Let’s get outta here yeah?” He questioned looking into my eyes. I nodded furiously ready to exit this hell and get home to what’s waiting.

We race to the self-checkout line, scanning and bagging groceries like a 5000-dollar prize is awaiting the winner. Namjoon grabbed my hand after he paid and pulled me along with him as he pushed the basket with his other hand. He was so warm, skin clear and kissable. I wanted to pull him aside and cover him in kisses, not caring about the people around us.

Namjoon unlocks the car as we stop beside it. I move to walk around the cart but he stops me in my tracks. “Let me help you get the groceries in the car love,” I say looking confused at his sudden maneuver.

Unexpectedly, he opened the car door and motioned for me to get inside. I insisted again that I help but he gave me a look that I know better than to disobey. I got inside praying I didn’t anger him too much. I set myself up for this one, didn’t I? It’ll be worth it in the end right? Maybe I went a little too far with the texts but I can’t help but shiver with anticipation. I pull out my phone to text Jimin about my bad decisions.

Me: I think I fucked up lol

Park Chanel: you’re welcome ;)

Namjoon slams the trunk shut causing me to jump in surprise. I close my phone sitting it in the cup holder beside me. He gets in the car, jaw still tense as he turns the key in the ignition. I thought about breaking the silence but the tension was so thick a knife would recoil at the slight pressure of penetration. Namjoon puts on his seatbelt then proceeds to look at me.

“ I don’t want to hear another peep from you Y/N..” he starts lowly not breaking eye contact for a second. “You’ve done enough for tonight, if you do anything stupid I swear I will pull the car over and take you on the side of the road. I promise you wouldn’t want that.” He deadpans and looks away from me, pulling out of the parking spot. I utter a soft okay and prepare to behave the rest of the way home.

I slide my palm over to his free hand resting on his thigh. I stare firmly at him, giving my best puppy eyes in return. He doesn’t look away from the road but I watch as his lip twitches into a small smile. He grabs my hand, rubbing his large thumb over the back of my hand. In love can’t begin to describe how I truly feel about this man.

I laugh as he tries to sing along to Smoke Sprite, raspy voice blending well with Soyoon. I rap along to his part of the song, stealing the spotlight and making him bop his head in excitement. The song finishes and we’re about 10 minutes from our place. I check my phone and see a text from our group chat, making the recent grocery store escapades flash through my mind. I want him to touch me again, I like it when he’s desperate and needy for me.

Another terrible idea floods my brain accompanied by a mound of outcomes. I suddenly let go of Namjoons hand causing him to spare me a confused expression. A smile graced my face as I turned my body forward, grabbing the slit of my dress and opening it over my legs. I let my left hand run down the front of my dress, stopping at my panties hesitating even.

I slide my hand under the fabric immediately coming in contact with the soft skin. I dip my fingers and get to work. I began letting out dramatized moans and grunts. I moan Namjoon's name and furiously let my hand lose control. I looked over and saw Namjoon gripping the steering wheel in frustration. Sweat adorned his angelic face, veins prominent in his hands. I let this go on until we reached the last stop light near our apartment building. I sat up and closed my legs acting like I didn’t just masturbate next to my boyfriend in a moving car.

We pull into the lot entering our designated spot. Namjoon quietly turned off the engine and released a sigh that he seemed to have been holding in. He looks absolutely pissed and it’s so sexy. His erratic breathing only made me wetter by the second.

“You’re going to follow my instructions carefully. I don’t want to hear a word from you or tonight will be your worst fucking nightmare got it?” He questioned angrily letting his eyes trail over my body once more. I nodded too scared to move an inch more.

“Go upstairs, get undressed, wait in the middle of the bed. If you’re not in that spot when I come up there in 15 minutes, you better pray you can stop time.” He seethes hotly. “Yes sir,” I say scared and ready for more. He gets out of the car walks around and opens my door. He grabs my purse from my lap holding eye contact, his brown almond eyes dark and predatory.

“Go.” He states motioning for me to exit the vehicle. I get out swiftly, grabbing my purse from his hand and sprinting towards the entrance of the building. The elevator took an eternity to bring me to our floor. I ran to the door and shakily put in the passcode, messing up a few times before it finally let me in.

My shoes are off in a flash, I leave my purse by the door as well abandoning my shades on the counter as I run past to the stairs. I burst into our room, slipping my dress off. Almost fell as I grabbed my silk lavender robe hanging on the wall. I threw it on and climbed onto the bed. My anklet glowed in the natural light seeping through the parted curtains. The front door swung open slamming against the wall.

I heard shuffling, cabinets opening and closing for 10 more minutes before his heavy footsteps echoed through our hallway. He walked into the room eyeing me before raising an eyebrow. I started to sweat nervously hoping I did what I was told.

“Who told you to put on your robe Y/N?” He questioned in amusement. He slowly walked over to me, grabbing each side of the robe and ripping it open. He discarded it onto the floor and stalked around the bed, he stood at the front motionless. “On your knees in front of me, now.” He said and I immediately left the bed. I swung my legs over the side and dropped to my knees.

Namjoon watched me through lidded eyes as I crawled over to him on my knees, stopping directly in front of his growing bulge. I was quick to unlatch the hook of his buckle, the metal of the belt clinging as it hit the hardwood floors.

“I’ll excuse the robe mishap since you’re so eager to taste me doll face,” he said reaching down to grab my chin. A loud moan echoed through the room as he grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. He looked down at me, motioning his head back as if telling me to open up. I did as I was told and watched as he spit in my mouth and closed it back. He pulled his pants down and kicked them to the side.

“Good girl, now eat.” He said intensely. He hummed in satisfaction, eyes never leaving the way I wrapped my fingers around his cock and finally engulfed his length into the warmth of my mouth. I took him in slowly inch by inch, his girth heavy against my tongue as I extended my jaw wider and wider. I choked a little as he hit the back of my throat.

“You look so fucking gorgeous with your lips wrapped around me, pet,” his fingers tightened into my hair, his gaze stoic and heavy on me. Pet. The pet name earned a moan from me as I began a steady rhythm of sucking. My fingers were coated in a thick layer of saliva, Namjoon’s cock easily sliding against my pressured grip as my cheeks hollowed, jaw growing sore from my strenuous movements.

He groaned loudly, fucking my throat faster until I could no longer take it. I let my jaw go slack so he could use me as his personal toy. He grabbed my face and fucked it harder until I was seeing stars. A beautiful repetition of my name strung from his tongue, stilling as he came into my mouth. I happily swallowed every drop, coughing around his cock one last time, sending a shiver through his body.

“Good job, get on the bed I want to taste you. I can see you dripping on the floor,” he smirks as he picks me up and helps me onto the bed. He walks around and gets in the middle of the bed, watching me as I sit patiently waiting for instructions.

“Come here baby, sit on my face,” he motioned for me to come to him. I slowly crawled towards him, bracing myself on his lap. He kissed me roughly, tasting himself on my tongue, running his hand down to play with my chest. Nipples sensitive to the touch, he pulls away from me, taking my right breast in his mouth. Sucking and nibbling on me, teasing me. He pulled off with a pop, scooting further down the bed and then lifting me so I could move towards his face.

I place my hands on the headboard hovering over his face in anticipation. He suddenly grabs my thighs and pulls me down onto him. I scream out in pleasure as he dives into my center. Feverishly lapping his tongue at my pussy like it’s the last time he’ll have me. His moans send intense vibrations through my body, making me scream his name. We’ll have a noise complaint tomorrow.

I felt my orgasm coming on, riding his tongue until my legs were sore. He let go of my left thigh to slap my ass hard, signaling me to cum on his tongue. I came with a loud groan of his name. Shaking and twitching as I came down from my high.

Namjoon grabbed my hips, gently guiding me down to his lap. His face was covered in my essence, from nose to chin, he glistened like an Angel. He smiled and rubbed circles on my tummy as he watched me shake.

“Don’t think we’re done darling, I’m not finished until I see my cum dripping down your pretty legs.” He gave me one last smile before his eyes darkened once more. He grabbed my hips and lifted me slightly, sticking his girth fully inside me. I sank slowly, letting him fill me to the brim. Tears streamed down my cheeks loving the painful stretch in my core.

“Ride me until I say stop.” He deadpanned motioning for me to move or else. I started to ride him painfully slow, not being able to take much more. This was my opportunity to finally seize control. I picked up the pace, rhythmic grunts and sounds of skin slapping filled the room. I put my hands on his chest and let my hips do the talking.

I ground down harder, spelling his name with every swift motion of my hips. I felt his cock twitch inside of me, indicating he was close already. Now that I have control I’m going to make him feel everything he did to me. I moved faster, causing the bed to shake and tremble with every shout of his name.

He grabbed my hips trying to make me slow down but I only grind down harder. Clenching and tightening around him to send me him over the edge. I watched as his orgasm roared through him, eyes rolling to the back of his head. I kept moving, milking everything from him. Getting closer to my orgasm, I let myself go with one last yell of his name.

Squeezing my eyes shut as I finally stilled. The sound of heavy breathing filled the room, the bed creaking as I rolled off of him. Shivering as the empty feeling overtakes me when he’s not inside of me. “I hope I didn’t get too carried away,” I started while looking over at my completely wrecked boyfriend.

“That was perfect.” He said smiling over at me. He slowly stood up, going to our bathroom to retrieve a towel. He returned momentarily, cleaning me off and then cleaning himself. Throwing the towel in the hamper against the wall. I was so exhausted I could barely move. I got under our giant duvet, getting comfortable fairly quickly.

Namjoon glanced at me, nestled under the warm blankets, my eyes getting heavy with exhaustion. He promised me a special date night and he was determined to make it happen, even if he just put me to sleep. With a gentle smile, his aftercare continued.

“Hey, babe,” he whispered softly, brushing a strand of loose hair from my face. “I know you’re tired but I don’t want our date night to go to waste.”

I yawned in response and mumbled sleepily, “Joonie I’m so comfy right here.” Earning a chuckle from him, my reluctance seeped through the atmosphere. “I know, but trust me, you won’t regret it. I’ve got something in the living room set up for us.”

That caused me to sit up, curiosity overcoming my fatigue. “Oh? What is it?” I said carefully. “It’s a surprise, but I promise it’ll be worth it.” He said leaning in to plant a kiss on my forehead.

With his gentle encouragement, I reluctantly pushed the covers aside and allowed Namjoon to help me out of bed. He passed me the discarded robe and my slippers, and together we made our way to the living room.

Where soft candlelight flickered with a movie on the screen waiting to be played. As I settled onto the couch I couldn’t help but smile at the effort Namjoon had put into creating this romantic haven. A charcuterie board with our favorite snacks and 2 bottles of the wine we purchased earlier were on the coffee table.

Namjoon plopped down beside me, taking my hand in his. “See princess? Our date night in the living room isn’t so bad, is it?” He said grinning like he won the lottery. My fatigue began to dissipate as I basked in the warmth of Namjoon's love and effort. “Not bad at all,” I said, feeling grateful for his consistency and thoughtfulness.

“Let’s start the movie I’m so excited!” I exclaimed pumping my fist in the air embarrassingly hard. Namjoon laughed and mimicked me, making me laugh even harder than before. The first half of the movie went by as we stuffed our faces with food and downed wine like it was our last supper. I was starting to feel tipsy and before I knew it my thoughts started wandering again.

“Mmm, these snacks are-“ Namjoon started as he reached for the charcuterie board. I interrupted his thought by grabbing his hand. Namjoon looked at me puzzled, “huh?” He says in surprise. I move closer and settle onto his lap. “I want to be closer to you,” I said, hands resting on his toned chest.

Namjoon blinked at me, a tipsy smile forming on his lips, “Well I can’t argue with that pet.” I look into his eyes exploring the galaxies I can reach within them. “You know, I love nights like these, just you and me, a movie, some wine…” I rambled to him.

“Yeah, me too. It’s moments like this when I realize how lucky I am to have you in my life baby.” He said while lost in my eyes. Searching for something, something that he knows I have. I leaned in slowly, our lips almost touching, “I love you Namjoon.” I kissed him before he could respond. Feeling his emotions spill into our kiss. He pulled us apart gently, rubbing his hand on my cheek. “I love you too Y/N.”

He grabbed my face and captured my lips again. A thief that could do no wrong in my eyes, I deepened the kiss craving more of him. Needing to feel something more. I slowly began moving my hips on his thigh, grinding down onto the exposed skin, earning a guttural groan from his throat.

His hands moved down the side of my body, exploring every curve, touching every mark he left on me this evening. He landed on my hips, guiding me to my last orgasm with his strong hands. The air was hot once more, soft moans and sweet nothings penetrated the quiet.

The movie is long forgotten, the candlelight coating the walls in a beautiful golden glow. I felt my orgasm building quickly, still sensitive from the earlier assault on my clit. Namjoon began bouncing his leg, adding more pressure on my center, and sending me over the edge.

I kiss him one last time before I fall fast asleep on him.

The end.

[ch3rriiii-bunn]

Something new♡

AUDBRUEHE I CAN'T GET AIZETSU OFF MY MIND HES SO HANDSOME I NEED HIM <333 I swear I'll continue the other smuts I have in the drafts lmao, also yall can request for things!!! Just look at the rules

Warnings: female bodied reader, pure smut couldn't think of a plot for this one don't get mad at me, switch reader, switch Aizetsu, use of ropes, oral sex, face sitting, again pure smut lmao, Over stimulation

"There we go. Is this too tight?" You asked Aizetsu "...n-no" he replied. Aizetsu was laid down on the bed with his hands tied above his head while looking at you with such a lustful expression.

You were completely naked in front of Aizetsu while he just had his boxers on. For a few seconds you just looked down at his body and bit your lip looking at his chest, abs and his thin waist and then down at his hard cock. You touched it and started stroking Aizetsu through his boxers, making him twitch a little. "It's already so hard even though I'm only touching you now"

"I couldn't help it" Aizetsu pants softly from your warm hand stroking his cock "y/n I need you so bad~" his voice trembled. You don't respond but instead crawl on top to straddle him and rest your bare pussy on his clothes cock making him gasp.

"Aw, but I like seeing you like this," you grinned and kissed his chest "you could break out of those ropes if you wanted to but you like being teased and dominated don't you?" You said, kissing up his chest to his neck. Aizetsu moaned softly, closing his eyes, not denying what you said.

From time Aizetsu never mind being the submissive one once in a while but he was never confident enough to approach the idea to you until now and he was not disappointed for how you took charge and made him all weak just for you.

You sat up and pulled his cock out from his boxers and rubbed his tip on your wet pussy "feel how wet I am? Aah~ Wanna get a taste before I fuck you?", all Aizetsu could respond with was a quick nod and heavy breaths with his mouth hung open.

You crawled onto Aizetsu face and put your weight down. At first you were a little hesitant but Aizetsu went straight to licking and sucking on your clit while moaning on your pussy. You couldn't help but grab his hair and lean forward, bucking your hips in his mouth from how good his tongue felt. Aizetsu looked up at you and slides his tounge inside your pussy while this time makes his nose rub on your clit

"Yes! Yes~ haa just like that, Aizetsu. y-you're such a good boy. Don't stop until I cum okay?" You moaned through your words and closed your eyes letting Aizetsu pleasure you with his mouth until you reached your orgasm. You claimed down and got off his face wiping your cum off the side of his cheek "gosh you were amazing Aizetsu" you said as you saw Aizetsu lick your cum off his lips, you smirked hovered over his dick rubbing his tip on your hole.

You could see the desperation on Aizetsu's face so you gave him a soft smile before going down on his cock letting out a satisfied moan. Aizetsu is averaged sized but what felt most satisfying was how thick his cock was and how it filled your pussy up. However that was the only thing that filled you up, after you looked at Aizetsu you noticed he looked shocked at himself and as you looked down you seen cum leaking out of you.

"I'm sorry y/n, fuck I couldn't wait longer. Your pussy just felt so good I.." Aizetsu pants from cumming early and looked up at you and you couldn't help but chuckle "it's okay baby it happens. Besides your still hard, I can feel you throbbing inside me" you said and bounce on his cock slowly.

"fuck~ y/n you feel so good, so good." Aizetsu rests his head back, moaning at you going up and down on his cock. He couldn't help but buck his hips up in rhythm to your movements but then let out a broken moan when he felt your hand press down on his abdomen. "y-y/n!? Don't do that, that you'll make me cum again" Aizetsu whimpers stopping his movements with his legs shaking "then let me do all the work" you moved your hands to his chest and began bouncing on his cock faster "aah~! Let me make you cum again" you moaned

Aizetsu was painfully trying to not move his hips but he loved the site on your tits bouncing and how his cock looked deep inside your pussy "I wanna cum inside you again~ please, please" Aizetsu moans louder looking at you with watery eyes

You supported yourself with your hands behind you and your hips going up and down on his cock "yes baby~ cum inside me. I'm gonna cum too" your moans grew louder getting close and seconds later you both came sound the same time.

"Did I make you lay there in those ropes too long?" You teased petting Aizetsus head as he had each one of your boobs in his hands and sucked on your nipples "you're tits were in my face but I couldn't get the chance to touch them due to the ropes. You're so mean y/n" Aizetsu gave you a sour look.

"But now you can fuck me however you want now~ put it inside me already, I need you Aizetsu" you whispered in his ear making him turn you on your side and thrust his cock back inside your messy pussy making you both let out a loud moan. Aizetsu tighten his jaw trying to restrain himself from pounding into your pussy but you turn your head back to face him "Don't hold back~ fuck me like you need me" you whispered against his lips

"Y/n~" Aizetsu gasped and pouds his cock deep in your pussy "its so good, it's so good haa~" Aizetsu pants and whispers in your ear, he gives your ear a light licks and uses his free hand to rub at your clit in circle "dose it feel good? Your pussy is throbbing and creaming all over my cock, it's even getting on my thighs. Mhmm, i love the way you suck me in and these nipples. Still so hard too, it really turns me on" he whimpers softly while playing with your nipple "cum for me, cum for me please".

"Oh fuck, Aizetsu! Gonna cum- gonna cum!!" You said over and over until you came on his cock again. Aizetsu let's out shaking moans fucking you through your orgasm until he cums inside you.

After you both calmed down, Aizetsu grabbed your face lightly and kissed you. "Thank you," he said in relief.

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

✨️1K Followers Celebration Day 6: Seventeen bias wrecker - Dino✨️

Affect

AN: This has been in my drafts for 600 years because those clips of him from In The Soop still haunt me. I just think it's funny that because it took me so long to get to this, we got even more shirtless Dino in the gym content recently. Clearly a sign from the universe to finish this lmao. I was going to go on a whole unhinged rant about him but, I'll spare you all. We're all going to ignore that 1. his is the longest so far and 2. I've written the most for him out of every idol, thanks.

Synopsis: You thought working out with Chan would be a fun, productive way to spend time together. However, you're sorely unprepared for just how distracting he can be.

Heads up: Lee Chan x Fem! Reader, friends to lovers of sorts, Reader going through it because of her attraction to Chan, praise kink (f. receiving), Chan being a menace, technically public sex I guess (they fuck in the gym but, no one catches them and it's not brought up as a concern), hair pulling, dirty talk, petnames used for Reader, nipple play (f. receiving), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex, Reader cries a little and creampie.

Word count: 4138

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

You knew you were doomed the moment you saw Chan in his workout clothing. His shirt sticking to his torso and practically acting like a second skin. You're sure if you looked hard enough, you could see the outlines of his nipples. His shorts were worse, somehow. Beckoning you to look at his toned thighs and zero in on how they hugged his ass.

Today is going to be more challenging than you anticipated.

"So, where do you want to start?" He asks, snapping you out of so blatantly ogling one of your closest friends. God, what're you thinking? You're here to spend time with him. Not think about how broad his shoulders are and just how muscular his ass would feel if you gave it a squeeze or five.

"You're the gym expert. You tell me," You pray to whichever deity is listening that Chan mistakes the delicate quality in your voice for anything other than how much just seeing him dressed like this affects you.

His laugh is boisterous and fills you with so much warmth, turning the already present butterflies in your stomach into dragons. One person shouldn't have this much power over you.

"I better not hear any complaining then," he responds with a wide smile, his eyes crinkling with mirth. Yeah, maybe being alone with the man you're borderline in love with isn't the wisest decision you've ever made, but it's too late now. You resist the scowl that wants to make itself known on your face when you invision a knowing Soonyoung in your mind. He's the one who suggested this to begin with. You're definitely going to be having some words with him the next time you see him, that evil man. He knew exactly what he was doing.

You severely underestimated how much worse this could get. You thought just seeing him in his tight-fitting gym attire was enough to fog up your brain but, that was before you heard the noises.

Lee Chan is a vocal man in all areas of life. Well, all areas of life that you've experienced him in. He's always talking, laughing, yelling at points, singing, sometimes rapping to fill the silence, and a million other things. The point being, Chan is not a quiet man. So, it shouldn't take you by surprise that he's vocal while he's working out too.

Still, the quiet grunts that fall from his lips and fill the otherwise relatively silent gym when he lifts weights causes your heart to beat wildly in your chest. The drawn-out groans when he finishes a set or stretches out his muscles might be the worst. Coupled with the way he grits his jaw and his face contorts when he's lifting, it's frankly a miracle you haven't spontaneously combusted.

However, as you stand and watch him while he illustrates how he wants you to lift these weights to your absolute horror and mortification, you realise you're getting wet. Not only that, but a barely there ache is beginning to make itself known between your thighs.

You're sure your face is radiating enough heat to power a small apartment building. You're really getting this worked up just watching him work out? What in the world is wrong with you? Are you truly this needy? You definitely need to call Soonyoung after this and yell at him until you're hoarse.

"Do you want to try now?" Chan asks you, kind eyes focused on you. You really might be the world's worst friend.

"Yeah, sure," you respond, pulling yourself together as best as you can given that you're unravelling at the seams. The weights aren't too heavy. You test them in your hold momentarily before imitating Chan's movements. There's a slight burn in your biceps but, otherwise you feel fine. It feels good, even. The slight burn fueling you.

"That's my girl,"

Oh.

Oh no.

That's all it takes for you to falter. Your mind suddenly completely forgetting the motions for the exercise you watched minutes ago.

"You were doing good just now but, try doing it this way," he says, standing up from where he'd been seated to watch you. His hands correcting your hold on the weights and the positioning of your arms. Every brush of his fingers on your skin leaves electricity in their wake. Fuck. Fuck this is bad. This is so bad.

Trying to remember how to be a normal human being, you nod at his words. Following his guidance and resuming the exercise precisely how he showed you now that your brain is semi-functional again.

"There you go. Good job," perhaps you should be a little more concerned about just how much his praise increases your pulse and worsens the way your panties are already sticking to you, but that's a thought for examining on another day. You can only handle so much right now.

"How about some pull-ups next?"

"Chan, do I strike you as the kind of person even capable of doing a single pull-up?"

"You could learn today,"

When all you respond with is a stone faced expression, he seems to get the message loud and clear, "Okay, fine. I'll do pull-ups and you do squats. How does that sound?"

"Now you're speaking my language,"

On the ever growing list of 'things you're violently unprepared for today', the next to be added is Chan just casually taking off his shirt. That stops you dead in your tracks. Your lips parting as his bare back comes into your line of sight. You thought it was broad before, but now? Seeing it completely bare? Broad feels like too simplistic of a word to describe it.

You knew, logically, that Chan was ripped. You've seen his arms, paying special attention to them more times than you care to admit. All of the guys work out regularly, and most of them mention Chan as one of the more dedicated members of the group when it came to hitting the gym.

You knew all of that, and yet, seeing the evidence a mere few metres in front of your very eyes leaves you speechless and stunned. Chan must notice your blatantly staring because he turns to look at you over his shoulder, "Is everything okay?"

You must struggle to come up with a believable response too long because he both looks and sounds panicked as he continues on, "Shit, did I make you uncomfortable? I should've asked if you were okay with me taking my shirt off. I'm sorry."

His panic must be infectious because you soon find yourself in a similar state, "No, no, Chan, it's okay. You did nothing wrong. I don't mind you being shirtless," quite the opposite actually, and that's the issue, but you decide to keep that bit to yourself.

"Are you sure? I really don't mind putting it back on if it's a problem,"

"Yes, I'm sure. It's really not a big deal,"

He looks unsure briefly but seems to accept your words. Giving you a nod before turning back to face the pull-up bar and begin his routine. You barely register the faint sting in your thighs from how deeply your nails are clawing into them. Eagle eyes drinking in as much as you can of every muscle contraction of his back. Your panties growing uncomfortably wet now as your ears are assaulted with grunts louder than the ones before.

You need to take a cold shower that lasts hours after this. At least you have a good month's worth of masturbation material now, so there's that.

Chan finishes his set far quicker than you would've liked. Sweat drenching his handsome face and droplets running down his jaw, his neck, his collarbones, his pecs until they disappear into the waistband of his shorts. Would it be so horrible to admit that you'd love to see just where those droplets wind up? That you'd happily follow their path with your tongue instead of your eyes?

"Hey, is everything okay?" Chan asks, dropkicking you out of your obscene thoughts.

"Ye-Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"It's just um you haven't really moved, and you've been kind of...staring at me?"

Oh no. Oh god, he noticed. No fucking shit he noticed you've probably been staring at him with all of the subtly of a rhino in a tea shop. Why did you have to make a day meant to be catching up with a friend so fucking weird.

"I-sorry. You're just distracting," is what comes out of your mouth in your blind panic.

"Distracting?" He asks, titling his head, "I'm distracting? Distracting how?"

By being shirtless, with all of the noises you've been making all day, by touching me, by telling me what a good job I've been doing, by just existing in the same space as me - are all of the thoughts that spring up in your mind. All the thoughts you show a great deal of restraint in not word vomiting out at him.

To your absolute mortification, an expression akin to understanding dawns on Chan's face. You've never wanted the Earth to spilt open and swallow you whole more than in this moment.

"Oh, I'm distracting huh?" Chan asks with a grin a touch too arrogant for you, taking a step towards you.

"No! It's not - I'm not - I wasn't - it wasn't like that," you stutter out, growing ever more flustered as a shirtless, sweaty Chan invades your space.

"It wasn't like what exactly?" He asks, mischief shining clear as day in his typically warm eyes.

Before you can consciously think about it, you find yourself stepping backwards. Much to the amusement of the man you're not sure if you want to kiss or throttle in front of you.

You decide to abandon the route you were on and attempt another one, "I'm sorry for staring at you."

"You don't have to apologise," Chan waves you off, "But I do want to know why you were staring,"

It's clear as day to anyone with basic critical thinking skills why you were so laser focused on his stupid back and shoulders. He just wants you to say it. You never took Chan for the humiliation type.

"You know why," you mutter, leaning against the wall that you had no idea you'd even gotten so close to. You suppose your brain is too preoccupied with trying to keep your friendship from going up into flames.

"I don't. You have to tell me," You really want to punch that shit eating grin off of his face. Your adrenaline spiking as he takes another step towards you.

"You're really annoying, you know that?"

"I've heard that once or twice over the years. Still doesn't answer my question though,"

"I think you're attractive, okay?" You finally blurt out. Looking at everything but him in the gym. Studiously focused on one of the treadmills in towards the back, over his shoulder.

"Aw, I'm flattered," he responds, so close to you now that all you'd have to do is reach out, and you'd be touching his bare chest. You have a feeling this isn't going to bode well for you.

"Whatever. You got the answer you wanted. Are you happy now?"

"You know, for being one of the smartest women I know, you're pretty dense," he responds dryly.

"What? Hey!"

"Do you really think I'd react this way to anyone saying they think I'm hot? Do I really have to spell it out for you?"

All you can do is owlishly blink at him. His words washing over you, trying your hardest to digest what he just said to you.

"I think you might have to spell it out for me, yeah," you mutter more breathlessly than you care to admit. It certainly doesn't become any easier to breathe when Chan is fully in your space, crowding you against the gym wall. His scent flooding your system, worsening the wetness between your thighs and muddling your mind even more.

"Is this okay?" He whispers, mere centimetres away from your mouth. His eyes considerably darker than they were minutes ago.

"Yes,"

"May I kiss you?"

"Yes," if anyone asks, you don't sound needy in the slightest when you reply to him.

You quickly learn that Lee Chan, as with many other facets of his life, excels in kissing you until you can think of nothing but, him. Not your mind has been anywhere else for the past few hours to begin with.

Your hands make themselves at home on his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle there as you pour what feels like centuries worth of yearning into this kiss.

"May I touch you?" He mutters against your mouth and, you wonder why he'd ever stop kissing you to ask such a stupid question.

"Yes, Chan. You can do whatever you want. I don't care," you rush out in response, dragging his mouth back to yours to feed into what is quickly becoming your newest addiction.

With your green light, his hands drift towards your oversized shirt. Smiling against your mouth when you shudder from the brief brushes of his fingertips along your abdomen while he toys with the hem of your shirt.

"I didn't think you'd be one to tease," you say.

"Have you thought about me like this often?" You really had to be so weak for such an insufferable man huh.

You choose to kiss him instead of replying, tugging on his hair in retaliation for the grin you know is on his face. Luckily for you, Chan seems to have had his fill of toying with you for now. Shoving your shirt upwards, pulling away from you briefly to tug it off of you fully.

He just stares at you. Want clear as day in his eyes as he watches your chest rise and fall and how your sports bra outlines your hardened nipples. You find yourself growing a little self-conscious under his heavy gaze. You hadn't picked your outfit with the goal of winding up like this in mind.

"You're staring," you finally find the courage to say, pushing down every instinct to cross your arms over your chest.

"Just returning the favour," he quips back, jumping back into action and acquainting himself with your throat. You can't help the moans and throaty gasps that leave your lips as his kisses and nips at your sensitive skin, exploiting every weak spot he can find. One of his hands reaching down to fondle your breast, running his thumb over your nipple through the fabric of your bra.

All you can manage to do is lean against the wall for stability. Every kiss and lick and squeeze sending lightning down your spine straight to your clit. You wouldn't be surprised if your legging were wet, too, at this point.

"You're so responsive," he whispers against your neck. Given how quietly he said it, you're not sure whether he meant to verbalise that thought or not, but you can't think to respond when he pushes your bra up.

He dots kisses along your breasts. Each press of his lips bringing him closer and closer to one of your nipples before he envelopes one into his warm mouth. He seems intent to wring every noise, every reaction out of you that he possibly can. Teasingly running his teeth along the sensitive bud, smiling when you arch into his touch. His nimble fingers find themselves at the waistband of your leggings. Slipping into them and pulling a particularly loud gasp from you when they come into contact with your more than likely ruined panties.

Your face burns when Chan's expression morphs into one of surprise, his fingers running along your panty covered slit as if to affirm to himself you're really this wet already.

"I didn't realise I had such a strong effect on you," he says against your breast, his voice gravelly, "Fuck, you're already so wet."

A strangled moan is all you can offer when he finds your swollen clit.

"Poor baby. Don't worry, I'll take care of you. Just need to get you out of these," he says, kneeling in front of you and pulling your leggings and panties down. You kick off your shoes impatiently to help ease the process, leaving you almost fully naked.

"I can't believe you're this wet when I haven't even touched you properly," he says, sounding genuinely amazed. Intense gaze focused on your swollen, slick slit. Lifting one of your legs and letting it rest over one of his shoulders.

Anticipation settles in your gut as Chan makes himself comfortable between your thighs. Your hips jolting into him when he experimentally touches you once more, completely bare this time. Your wetness generously coating his thick fingers. Your eyes flutter shut as he shifts closer, goosebumps rising all over your body when his warm breaths hit you.

His first lap of you is messy and passionate. A muffled groan is your only warning before he grips your thigh and all but shoves his face into you. One of your hands fists his hair, not sure if you want him even closer or whether you need a minute from the sensations wreaking your system.

"Ch-Chan ah god," you cry out, your hold on his hair worsening. He doesn't seem to mind all that much, however. Intently focused on grinding your pussy against tongue until you fall into pieces for him.

With his mouth latched onto your clit, he teases your entrance with two of his fingers and you feel faint. His eyes find yours momentarily, looking at you through his hair as he checks for any signs of discomfort or reservations. Watching your face while he slowly sinks his fingers into you. His cock leaking even more when your warm, wet walls squeeze his fingers for dear life. He's so fucked.

The stretch his fingers provide requires some adjusting to, and Chan catches onto that. Focusing his attention back on your clit and providing some distraction while you get used to his fingers.

The wall behind you is proving to be extremely helpful. You're sure you would've crumpled onto the floor by now with the way Chan is determined to devour you whole and his fingers curl inside of you. Embarrassment warming your face as the squelching sounds of your wetness and his fingers moving inside of you hit your ears. Those sounds are accompanied by louder moans and whimpers from you when his fingers strike gold. Finding your weak spot and going for the kill.

He exploits your weaknesses gleefully, assaulting the spot over and over again while he continues his ministrations on your clit. It's no wonder your orgasm doesn't take long to slam into you. Watery cries of his name and jumbled curses echoing throughout the empty gym. You're sure you're hurting him from how fiercely you're gripping his hair. You couldn't remember the last time you'd cum this hard. Sagging against the wall when the most intense parts of it subside.

Chan presses one last kiss to your pussy before easing his fingers out of you. Standing up on unsteady legs, cupping your jaw and slamming his mouth against yours. The taste of yourself on his tongue further fueling the fog clouding your mind. Desperate hands dragging him closer to you, revelling in his closeness and the firmness of his body against your own.

"If I knew you tasted this good, I would've offered to eat you out a long time ago," he says when you shift to litter kisses on his jaw.

"If I knew you did it so well, I would've let you," you respond with an easy smile. However, any humour in your tone dissipates when you register his cock pressing against your thigh. Scorching and heavy even through the material of his shorts. Fuck.

Your mouth finds his once more. Teeth and tongue clashing with one another as he grinds himself against you, groaning into you.

"Chan, please," you whine.

"Hmm? Please, what?" You're not sure if he's genuinely too disoriented to understand what you're asking of him or if he wants you to beg. Either way, you've long since abandoned any semblance of pride.

"Please fuck me,"

His eyes shut briefly, and you watch the way his jaw clenches, "You're going to be the death of me."

If you weren't aching and noticeably empty, you might've giggled at his words. Watching him shove his shorts and underwear down his thick, muscular thighs through lidded eyes. A fresh wave of wetness gushes out of you when his cock springs free. Of course his cock would look mouthwatering too. Of course.

"You really do like to stare, huh?" he muses, stepping closer to you. Hoisting one of your legs over his elbow.

"Sh-Shut up," you stutter, fingernails digging into his biceps as he drags his cock along your pussy. His cock glistening with your arousal in no time.

"That's not nice," he faux pouts, nudging your entrance with his tip. Your knees almost buckle underneath you. A moan bubbling out of just from him toying with you.

"Chan, please. I want it. I want you, please-"

You're promptly cut off when he pushes inside of you. If you thought the stretch provided by his fingers was overwhelming, the girth of cock brings tears to your eyes. Your strained gasps and his restrained groans intertwining.

Is it possible to cum just from being so full? Lee Chan might just help you answer that question. You're not sure you've ever felt so full and stretched out in your entire life. A few stray tears running down your face already.

"Are you okay?" He asks, looking just as wrecked and overwhelmed as you feel. He's practically vibrating from the effort not to move. His cock pulsing inside of you.

"Ye-Yeah. It doesn't hurt. You can move," you respond. It's now or never.

Chan starts off very slowly. Letting you grow accustomed to his girth with every drag of him along your walls. Muttering quiet praises into your neck about how well you're doing, how good you feel, and how you're taking him so well. His words prompting you to clench around him and gush around him.

"Chan, faster, please. You can move faster. It's okay, I can take it," you whine. You feel like you're going to lose your mind if he keeps thrusting so slowly. His consideration is sweet. Really, it is, but it's torturous too. From the way he seems to be restraining himself, you assume the feeling is mutual.

Something snaps in him then. His eyes more feral than they were moments ago as he picks up his pace considerably. The sounds of your wetness and skin slapping against skin mingling with your respective noises of pleasure.

"Taking my cock like such a good girl," he groans into your shoulder, sliding impossibly deeper into you when he angles himself a little differently than before.

Perhaps he's noticed the way his praise impacts you. His filthy mouth not stopping.

"Look, baby," he mutters lowly into your ear, "I want you to look at how well your pussy takes me,"

You can't find it in you to disobey. Chasing the high of being his good girl. So, you glance downwards. Your cheeks heating up as you watch him fuck into you and the way you're being split open by him. You never thought the sight of yourself being fucked would garner such a strong reaction from you but, you've been learning quite a bit about yourself today.

"It's hot, isn't it?" He asks, a moan falling from his lips when you tighten around him, "So hot watching me fuck this pretty pussy of yours."

You've never cum just from penetration but, Chan is proving himself to be head and shoulders above every other man you've slept with. You're completely and utterly caught off guard when you cum for a second time and, Chan seems to be too. Startled, wide eyes watching you shatter in front and around him for a second time. Ever the caring gentleman as he soothes and fucks you through it.

You're barely coherent when Chan's pitchy moans of your name register to your mind and you feel his warm, thick cum flood your awaiting pussy. His hips weakly twitching into yours with ever spurt of his cum inside of you.

Honestly, it's a wonder both of you are still standing. Barely, but you're standing. Leaning into each other and the trusty wall for support as you come back to yourselves.

"If working out with you always ends up like this, we should work out together more often," he says, kissing your neck and shoulder lazily.

You really just had to fall for one of the most eye roll inducing men you've ever met, huh.

[luv-again]

What are some pet names Shadow would use for Amy? I just cannot get the scene of Wreck It Ralph out of my head where he calls her a “dynamite girl”.

firstly, oops, sorry it took a little while to get around to this ! i have such a bad habit around leaving responses in my drafts for forever and a day </3 secondly, hi, yay, i love asks ! but oh NO you've just enabled me to yap and i am SO sorry in advance for the length of this response ;-; i'll put it in a dropdown so i'm not assaulting everyone's dashes

buckle in, it's blabbing time

i'm of the firm belief that if you can convince me shadow would say [ xyz pet name ] within a certain context, then i can believe it. my bud, @sadgirlz-lovemoney, does this brilliantly in her fic, ballads for the gallows, where shadow is insistent on calling amy "troublemaker", based on the fic's proceedings and their attitudes/personalities. to me, that's the perfect way to implement terms of endearment !! you gotta set the stage before hitting the audience with it — it's all contextual and more importantly, it rides on how natural it comes off

"dynamite girl" is so fun 😭 i think i vaguely remember this scene ?? and i think shadow would absolutely call amy something within the same vein ! something pertaining to her abilities or overall nature ? i'm a sucker for shadow admiring the qualities about her that no one else will openly recognise (so much so, i wrote a whole piece on him doting on her like this. i am both guilty and biased)

as much as i have learned to accept the charming, almost honorific-like term of endearment that shadow applies by regarding to amy as 'rose' (i actually used to abhor it, but i adore it when it's applied in the right way. i love the use of her given name more - but that's a whole other thing for a WHOLE different discussion lmao), i always like to resort to referring to her differently in my pieces. out of exploration, mostly, but it never seems to be a pet name of sorts ??

when i don't write shadow referring to amy by her given name — you know what ? i'm going to be honest, i normally don't. just because all my interpretations of him so far have been either pre-relationship and/or unsettled with the idea of giving pet names at the time. BUT. if i were to, here's what i reckon :

'my love'. simple, timeless. shadow doesn't muck about and if he's comfortable with announcing to amy or anyone else that she's the subject of his adoration, that'd have to be one in his repertoire. it's boring, i know, but to me, shadow is a little boring. in an endearing way

^^ by extension, 'beloved'

going through a search of my pieces, i did in fact find one where he does apply the former pet name ! as a tease, but it still made an appearance !

— dusk, or eventide

as for an extensive list, i am so so garbage with churning my brain for further ideas, they normally crop up on a whim. but in a basic sense, those are best fit. at least to me, in good faith to my interpretation of shadow, anyway. i know others in the community have far more clever ones out there; i just rely on one failing brain cell to do all the heavy lifting for me lmao (and it does me no justice, i'm afraid)

furthermore, on the point of not using pet names too often, i come to my next (unnecessary) point of discussion : how i do represent amy through shadow's eyes

a lot of how i perceive shadow's view of amy comes down to my previous statement of admiration. he admires and respects amy for all that she can do and all that she is. i like her actions and her bearing to speak for her more than superficial things like the pigment of her fur or the colour of her eyes. and if i DO mention that (most likely the latter because i am an 'eyes are the window to the soul' believer), there's something attached, whether that be a feeling evoked by them or a deeper concept they play testament to

let me nab some extracts from some of my pieces :

— the kiss...?

— three words, three syllables

it'd take me a ton more time to pick out more features/metaphors i've used in regards to amy (especially in three words, three syllables, since that's all the piece is full of), but i can be sure to say i love — not quite the sun/moon dynamic trope — to liken amy to the sun because i think it's a beautiful way to encompass all her attributes. she is warm, but she can burn. she can glow, but she can blind. amy is unapologetic in both her love and her malice, and that's what i love about her character. so by extension, so does shadow. he wouldn't change her for anything. if you can draw a handful of pet names from that one, be my guest hehe

i think i personally prefer to remain poetic, vague, or unspoken when i write for shadow, hence the severe drought that is the pet name scene in my neck of the woods lmao

this post went off on such a wild tangent, i'm so sorry. i'm as verbose as they come once you get me started on something </3

nevertheless, thank you for the ask !! i really enjoy prompted shadamy yaps hehe

[skyfallscotland]

So the other day I went on a bit of a deep dive and used the wayback machine to find some of my old fanfic (may you never see it) but I was reading through my old comments (as you do) on my most popular fic from back then, that I started when I was twelve, and my god I have to share this with you guys 😭😂

We have come a LONG way and I think I maybe just blanked a lot of this out to keep myself going, because if current me was copping this, she’d be out, no more fic.

Consider this my official apology for forever saying fandom is so much worse than it used to be…It’s only mostly worse 🤣🫶🏼 that bright period in there was obviously the decade after this one.

Shall we stroll down memory lane together?

(trigger warning: homophobia)

Now, I’m not claiming my work was amazing (again, I was TWELVE) it was honestly terrible. Cringe as hell. But it also clearly had some fans because I got a lot of decent comments too (hundreds on a 19k word HP fic that I abandoned after a few years, that then did not survive the second great ffnet purge), and a lot of those comments after I was like “GUYS I’M TRYING HERE I’M ONLY TWELVE!” etc were like “wait, you’re what now?!” So that’s kinda nice 😌

But the point is, we all start from somewhere. I’ve been doing this ‘gig’ a while, no one is good overnight, at ANYTHING. I don’t even think I’m that good at it now. If you’re predisposed to writing, it still takes practice! And apparently the guts to weather…this.

Welcome to the 2000’s ✨

• look, i don't care if you've lost your inspiration... just ramble until you do

LOL

• could you upload quicker? i want more of the story faster!

😂 there was a little too much honesty going around

• Did you have to stop, I just started reading this story today and I already have fallen in love with it. I don't like it when authors stop the story half way through.

Me either!!! But you know, I had to go to school so 🤷🏼‍♀️

• I hate you. I just want you to know that. Not finish! Blec!

BLEC!!

It’s starting to make sense to me why I have a serious anxiety about not having a few chapters written ahead of time, my therapist would say that’s buried trauma ✨

• why why whyyyyy! Why must you stop on a cliffhanger!

just call me rebecca

• WELL, one thing for sure, your chapter ALL so freaking short!

Lmao this one didn’t age well 😌

• It's pretty pathetic that YOU'RE one of those TYPICAL cliche, boring authors that go with the knowitall and gold-digging WHORES then say Luna, who's under used and under-appreciated!

I made Hermione and Ginny friends of Harry. Like they are in the book 🙃 this person also commented on every single chapter in this style, hating everything—I know because no one used anon. Hiding your homophobia? Apparently Not trés chic!

• You'r an awful pweson who'll burn in hell.

I made Harry gay.

• Why is Harry such a girl?

Again, he’s not, he’s just gay. I think he also went shopping and bought some jeans (hp 2000’s fic shopping montage, whaddup?! ✌🏼)

• cant rembet why i click on there but there not GAY Harry is 100% not fag

How sure are you, though? He had some real great tension with Diary Tom Riddle, if we’re being fair. Also, it was clearly marked. I took up some of that valuable 20 character summary space TO mark it but the homophobes kept coming 🥲

• I like slash, but it has to be well written, and it’s completly unrealistic and wrong for harry to be a bottom.

There…was no sex involved. He went shopping for some pants. He found another male attractive. I’m?? Also not sure how you inferred that he would be a dominant partner anyway because even with Ginny you know damn well she’s on top 😌

• disgusting! you ruined such a good story.

Pretty sure this was also about ✨the gay✨

• Look, I'm not trying to flame, but after all this time of waiting, why are there so little words?

I was busy with seventh grade algebra hun!! Also, I was drafting by hand on paper and uploading from the FAMILY DESKTOP COMPUTER. I had to zero out every time someone walked past, hello???

• this story was kind of creepy and i know for a fact that animals leave the losing animal in the ground to claim their teritory.

I…actually have no idea what this was about and also whether it’s true 😂

• Please update as soon as possible

I just picture this person with a deadpan expression, typing with their pointer fingers.

• There's a lot of stuff that's unexplained here, add a little more detail and the story would be a lot better.

ok VALID babe, valid, lots of this same sentiment and I TOOK that advice, like if I got this as a twelve year old to my (online) face, I’m positive your fav millionaire authors can handle it if they happen to see it floating by in the netosphere!

In saying all that, there were some really funny comments too. People were generally a lot more creative when leaving comments back then (aside from the general rudeness 20-30% of them exhibited lmao).

• please dont leave me hanging..i look pathetic when i hanging...trust me on this one...visualize a wet cat stuck on a towl rack

Help, I’m whEEZING 😂

•I have no words to describe how I feel about you right now. That isn't even a cliff hanger you obliterated the cliff and tossed us into an abyss of unknown danger!

Some things don’t change I guess, sorry bout it 🤷🏼‍♀️

• (football caoch voice) move move move! u have readers on u go go go!

🤣 it really do be feeling like that

• You sure you're 13? You seem more like a demented 18 yearold to me. 

Thank you *bows*

Final considerations: Why could no one spell or punctuate? Glad we’re past that era 😮‍💨

But no seriously I think this is why people who were around for the 90s, 00’s and 10’s are so critical of fandom today, because we weathered THIS and ended up with something really great, and now it seems that’s being threatened more and more.

So whenever you see pushback against “today’s fandom” it’s coming from a place of “dear god, we’ve been in the trenches and we do NOT want to go back” 🫶🏼

My dear current readers, I love you endlessly for not being these people, good lord.

[always-andromeda]

𝐢 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟡ Joel Miller x F!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⟡ 2,896

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⟡ When Joel and Ellie return to Jackson, you learn that Joel might not be telling the full truth about the pair's journey to Salt Lake City.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⟡ this thing is rough. and terrible. but I've had seeds of this in my drafts for the last year and I really wanted to embrace some angst for a hot second. so enjoy my first fic post-finals season lmao. also. I'm experimenting with styles so excuse the hot mess of a title card. divider by @saradika-graphics <3

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟡ no smut but regardless, minors do not interact. post-outbreak universe. angst, little bits of fluff and banter, but mostly angst. some sweet Ellie interactions. allusions to past relationship between reader and Joel. mentions of alcohol. descriptions of canon-typical blood and violence. nothing else I can think of but please let me know if anything else should be added!

THIS ACCOUNT STANDS WITH PALESTINE ⟡ HOW YOU CAN HELP PALESTINE ⟡ DAILY CLICK FOR PALESTINE

Part of you hadn't expected Joel to come back. The snow melted away and the flowers had begun to bloom once more but he was still gone. And in this world, gone is as good as dead. So that's what you assumed.

While Tommy held out hope – talking about what he had to show Joel when he got back – you didn't even dare to speak his name. You couldn't fathom what had happened to him or the miracle girl he'd ridden into Jackson with. But you hoped it was quick. Though you knew full well that men like him rarely ever earned merciful endings.

You allowed yourself to wish for it, though only for a few seconds at a time. Then it was back to reality, going on patrols, lending a hand wherever it was needed, and keeping the community alive. Anything to get your mind off the fact that he probably wasn't coming back.

You hadn't known Ellie long during their initial visit. Even still, her personality wasn't one that could be swallowed lightly. She had been inquisitive, skeptical, and sarcastic; a bundle of anger and hope so bright that you could see why Joel was so drawn to her. It made complete sense that he would see her deliverance to the Fireflies through.

Which is why you were shocked when Joel Miller and the miracle girl waltzed right back through the gates of Jackson. But they were both different; both fragmented versions of the people who had passed through the prior winter.

For one, he smiled. When Joel first locked eyes with you upon their homecoming, he fucking smiled. It was this crooked, delicate thing that seemed to waver once it reached his eyes. And that's when you knew that something was wrong. He didn't even have to say it. The unspoken truth was solidified with Ellie's silence.

There would be no cure.

You'd shared a weary look with Tommy then. And he'd pursed his lips at you before returning Joel's smile; a quiet acknowledgement that you were both aware of the uncanniness in both Ellie and Joel's behavior. Then he led the two off, probably to get them something to eat and then to confer with Maria on where they could stay.

The two of them adjusted well to the community. You’d heard from others about how large of a help Joel had been on patrols. His experience in taking down infected was invaluable. Ellie, on the other hand, had thrown herself into helping with the animals. At first she struggled to adapt to the early morning schedule of the other handlers, but otherwise she took to the tasks quickly. She seemed the most at peace around them and you understood it.

Jackson was the closest thing to friendly that you’d encountered in years. But it still got a little suffocating at times.

Outside of the animals, Ellie was quiet; mostly keeping to herself with her nose buried in a notebook.

This was another one of those instances. You took a step back from your current task: repairing part of a fence that had been kicked in by one of the horses. As you wiped the sweat from your forehead, you couldn’t help but notice the girl sitting crossed legged atop a bale of hay a few feet from where you stood. 

Making your way towards her, you saw she was drawing again. And as you peeked over her shoulder, you spotted a sketch of the horses as the riders were taking them back into their barn. In the half hour since they’d ridden past she’d managed to capture their swift movements in each rough figure. On the next page over you identified a portrait that was immediately familiar to you.

"Is that Joel?" you'd asked, gesturing to the open book in her lap.

She seemed startled from a daze upon hearing your voice. "Hm?"

"That drawing. It's Joel, right?"

"Oh, yeah," she answered. "I guess I'm getting better, huh? Since you can actually tell who it's supposed to be,” she huffed.

"With those eyebrows and that nose? Who else could it possibly be?"

Sure, he and Tommy shared some similarities. But Tommy’s wrinkles weren’t quite that deep. And though Joel had grown his hair out a bit more since coming to Jackson, it hadn’t quite reached his shoulders the way that Tommy’s did.

Right away, you were sure it was Joel. You could already envision the wrinkle between his thick brows that seemed to perpetually haunt his face. His lips were a thin line – almost pursed – and topped with a slightly overgrown mustache. Yet it wasn’t an angry expression. More…vulnerable, perhaps. As if Ellie had asked him to stand still for a minute before scribbling a rough outline of his features for reference.

"Well..." she trailed off. "The first few times I tried...he just looked like a constipated potato."

You snorted, which immediately made the girl start to smile, "It's true!"

Relieved to see her in such a good mood, you pushed a little further, "One day I'd like to see these angry potato drawings. Because I bet they're just as true to life as this one." You pointed towards her drawing.

Thankfully, she laughed. A few seconds passed and her voice went small, "Do you really think it looks good?" She stared up at you with those dark brown eyes, searching for your approval.

You nodded. "I wasn’t an art critic before the outbreak. But I am an expert on that man’s face. And I think it's pretty damn good. I’m sure you’ll only get better the more you practice.”

She murmurs her gratitude before falling back into a trance. Hair blowing gently in the wind around her face, you can’t help but notice the way that light gradually fades from her eyes.

“You alright?”

“Has he been acting…weird…to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’ve known him longer than I have,” she sounds hesitant to admit. “You used to know him, I mean.”

You didn’t want to tell her the truth and further her worries. But something tells you that if you attempted to lie, she’d see right through it anyways. She’d find some way to get to the truth.

“He’s definitely been a little quiet lately. Just don’t know what for. Then again, he’s never been the type to share his feelings with anyone.”

“Not even with you?”

You snort, “Especially not me.” Remembering years of passive aggressive arguments and wordless apologies, it was unlikely that that part of him had changed much since those days. 

“Could you at least try to figure out what’s up with him?” for a moment, you detect a palpable anxiety in her tone. But she brushes it away swiftly before adding, “At least so we can rule out the possibility of dementia. Or whatever the fuck else it is that old people get.”

You roll your eyes at the attempt of a joke. “You’ve got it. I’ll see what I can find out.”

Turns out that saying you’d talk to Joel was a lot easier than actually doing it.

But then again, it had once been like this. All those years ago when it was just you, him, Tess, his brother, and the rest of the group that was moving through to Boston. Back then you’d always been at least a little afraid of him. Not only was he physically imposing and regularly proved the violence that laid just below the surface of his fingertips, but there was also the way he’d look at you like with that fucking face.

Like he was playing out how he’d get rid of you the moment you fucked up. Like he knew just how soft you were inside; how it was a wonder you’d even lived long enough to be standing in front of him looking as dumbfounded as you did. It was an expression that made your skin burn and your hands shake, only you were too stubborn to outwardly show it bothered you.

Slowly but surely, he’d mellowed out then. Surely, it would happen again.

If he was going to make any actual friends in town, it’d have to happen. He was already popular in his own right. The people of Jackson always got curious when someone new settled. It certainly didn’t help that this new someone happened to be Tommy’s brother.

They seemed to believe that Joel would be just like his bright eyed, bushy tailed little brother. And boy, did you get a kick out of seeing them realize how wrong they were.

Joel was polite, of course. But he wasn’t quick to cozy up with every person who came to his doorstep offering a housewarming present. No matter how many times you or Tommy assured Joel that it was all just friendly, he was reluctant to accept it.

You understood it. You’d had nearly as difficult a time acclimating to Jackson’s genial climate. Places like these just…couldn’t exist. It all felt like a mirage that would melt away in time. However, you came to discover that despite the close quarters and the occasionally nosy neighbors, you liked the place. To explain it simply, you liked belonging to something. The world would never be the way it was before, for better and for worse. But right here…people weren’t just surviving. They would live. 

And ever since he returned, you intended to show Joel just what that felt like.

The sun’s setting and the citizens of Jackson are already settling in for the evening, save for a handful of teenagers lingering in the streets. You pass by them, making your way towards the house at the end of the road. It’s a path you’ve become familiar with in the weeks since you started visiting Joel on an almost daily basis.

They aren’t always frivolous visits. Sometimes you help move furniture around. Sometimes you bring food when he’s been working all day. And sometimes on nights like tonight, if you manage to trade for a particularly good bottle of whiskey, you bring it straight to him to share.

It’s a good routine. One that makes you believe that you and him can bury the hatchet and start anew. If anything, it proves that though much time has passed since you and him had first met, you still know damn good and well how to push his buttons.

You knock on his door and are met with an obviously exhausted Joel. It’s hard to stop yourself from giving him a quick once over. When you do, you notice his hair has gotten the tiniest bit shaggier. Tufts of curls spill over his forehead and under his ears. He’d always cut it before it ever got the chance to grow like that.

The sight makes you smile. Joel Miller will never admit it, but living in Jackson is really starting to look good on him.

He rolls his eyes, “You again?”

“Oh, hush, you’re thrilled to see me,” you say before inviting yourself inside and heading straight towards his kitchen to deposit your alcoholic spoils.

“Thrilled is one hell of a descriptor.”

“Says the man who I’m sharing my liquor with.” You hold the bottle up before setting it down on his kitchen counter. “Besides, I’m just trying to get you a little out of your shell.”

Joel mumbles, “I’m doin’ alright on my own.”

“By fine you mean you’re fine trailing behind Tommy for the rest of your life? Because that’s the direction you’re headed in.”

He lets out an exasperated chuckle, “You know I made friends just fine before you came along, right?”

“Then you should have no problems with surprise visits from an old friend.” You intended to sound smug saying it. Instead it came off more longing than anything else.

Perhaps because you aren’t entirely sure what you and Joel even are anymore. A long time ago there was something more. But now? You look in his eyes and see apprehension brewing in them. He could go back and forth with you all day. Sincerity, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter.

Joel clears his throat before changing the subject. “You seen Ellie today? Tommy and I were up early for patrol this mornin’ so I didn’t get to check in with ‘er.”

“Oh, yeah, she was at the farm earlier. She’s been a real big help.”

“She doin’ alright?”

“Uh, she seems…nervous…to say the least.”

His brow furrows as his eyes meet yours. “Nervous? About what?”

You laugh awkwardly. “Are you even aware of all that she’s been through?”

“Is that supposed to be a joke?” The challenge in his voice is apparent.

“I just mean–” you stumble over your words before stopping to take a breath. You close your eyes and see Ellie’s face all over again; her features the embodiment of white noise. You’re swiftly moving into dangerous territory. But it still needs to be traversed. And there’s no going back after this.

“She’s been through a lot, Joel. One minute she’s being pushed around at some FEDRA boarding school. The next thing she knows she’s traveling across the country with the world on her shoulders. Now she’s here.” And there’s no cure, your mind whispers.

“Your point is…?”

You snap, “My point is that that’s a lot to fucking deal with, Joel.”

“She’s resilient,” he replies with an equal amount of grit.

“She’s a kid.”

He’s quiet. He can’t refute that. 

“And she saved your life,” you add.

He scoffs, “More times than I can count.”

“Don’t you think that entitles her to a little better than what you’re giving? A little more support? She’s living in that garage all alone and she’s–” His expression remains steely. Almost out of desperation, you bridge the gap between your hand and his.

“Please, tell me what happened. Why are you—”

“Don’t,” his tone is jagged and low; the growl a wounded dog gives when you step towards it. That’s when it hits you. Something about this terrifies him. And the shreds of trust leftover between you and him are the only thing keeping him from showing his teeth.

It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him look that afraid. The closest memory you can grasp is one from nearly a decade before when you and Joel had strayed from the group to scavenge a nearby grocery store. You’d never been very good at checking your surroundings. You hardly saw the haggard man coming at you. But you saw the flash of his knife. Felt the blade slash the side of your arm as you struggled with him. Felt a store shelf jab you in the back.

It had taken seconds after hearing the sound of your scream pierce the air for Joel to fly over and bring the man to the ground. A guttural yell in his throat, his fist fell continually. Over and over and over until the man was audibly choking on his own blood. You heard a small, strangled please. Then there’s one final, wet thunk; the sound of his own blade being buried into his flesh.

You remember Joel’s shoulders sagging when you got back to camp with the others. His knuckles were bright red. You gently wrapped them with cloth as he squeezed your knee with his uninjured hand.

You were exhausted that night but sleep wouldn’t find you. Joel would though. Through the quiet you’d realize that Joel was the only person you trusted to do so.

He barely uttered a word for a day or so afterwards. Part of you had expected to hear him chastise you for paying such little attention; to tell you that you were lucky he’d saved your ass again. Strangely, those words never came.

The next night he stared intently at the gauze covering the cut on your arm. In the cold, dark, dead of night while everyone else slept, he was fixated on you. Something about that look of his scared you more than his judgment ever did. 

The only words he ever spoke of the incident would come out of his mouth as the fire crackled and reflected in his dark eyes, “Don’t scare me like that ever again.” That was the moment you saw how much fear this world had instilled in him. Even more, you finally understood that his love language was violence.

That’s how you start to understand why he practically snarls at you now. But it doesn’t mean you agree with it.

“You have to tell me at some point or another,” you say slowly and carefully, trying to make it clear that you mean no harm to him. “At the very least, you have to tell her. She’ll never forgive you if you don’t.”

Joel sighs. You can tell that he knows this; knows it better than anyone else in the world. He’d probably run the notion over in his mind dozens of times at that point. “I will. Just…just not now. Just—”

Though his eyes will no longer meet yours, you hope that he’s telling the truth. 

“Alright,” you reply softly.

Eyebrow raised and lips pursed, he looks skeptical. “Alright?”

“Yeah. You–” There’s so much more you wish you could say. But you doubt he’d really hear any of it. After all, he’s just as wounded and stubborn as you.  “I believe you.”

“Okay.”