#i love these idiots already LOLL

[woozyhere]

🔪 ————— @bullsh1tterz

This shit was so fucking lame. Sitting around, listening to people trauma dump about their mediocre, b-grade survival stories just to keep up appearances? Give him a break. Half the people in this support group were only there for the attention their stories brought, and the other half took the healing process far too seriously.

And then there was Stu.

Stu, who had survived - barely, in fact - a traumatic event, though had brought upon the horror all himself. Well, not entirely himself. His accomplice, however, was hardly in any condition to say otherwise. Stu had killed everyone in that fucking house, and now he was here. If only they knew.

Seating himself farther away from the group, he's rolling a joint. What, can anyone really get through these sessions sober? He's invaded the space of another man; not entirely, just close enough to give him an excuse to yap at someone, but far enough away to be appropriate. "This shit suuuucks, dude."

He lolls his head back theatrically, huffing a sigh before turning his attention back to the task at hand.

"Do you, uh," Stu mimics smoking before presenting his finished joint with a proud smirk. "'Cause, fuck, man. I don't think I can handle another minute without bein' stoned outta my gourd."

[pucksandpower]

Drunk in Love

Max Verstappen x fiancée!Reader

Summary: in which Max gets drunk, forgets that the two of you are literally engaged, confesses his love for you, and then gets reminded that his ring is on your finger … in that order

Based on this request

The lights from Jimmy’z spill out onto the sidewalk, a dizzying kaleidoscope of reds, purples, and blues. You stand just outside, arms crossed, as your phone buzzes for the third time in five minutes. It’s Daniel this time.

“Hey,” he says, voice just slightly too cheerful to be innocent. “So, uh, Max is-”

“I’m already here.”

“Oh, perfect. He’s …” Daniel hesitates, and you can practically see him scratching the back of his neck. “He’s just a little … spirited tonight.”

Spirited. That’s one way to put it.

You hang up before he can add anything else and glance toward the club entrance. Max stumbles out a few seconds later, propped up by Lando, who looks like he’s trying not to laugh. Max’s head lolls to the side, and when he spots you, his entire face lights up like you’ve just walked out of a movie.

“Hey!” He yells, voice loud enough to make a couple passing tourists glance over. “It’s you!”

You sigh, stepping forward to take him off Lando’s hands. “Thanks,” you mutter to the younger driver, who just grins.

“Good luck,” Lando says, clapping you on the shoulder before disappearing back into the club.

Max leans heavily on you, his arm slung over your shoulders. “You came for me,” he says, slurring slightly. “You’re like an angel. My angel.”

“Uh-huh,” you deadpan, guiding him toward the car. “Let’s get you home, Max.”

He stops abruptly, digging his heels into the pavement. “No, wait.”

You look up at him, exasperated. “What?”

“I need to tell you something.”

“Can it wait until we’re in the car?”

“No!” He insists, voice rising. “It’s important.”

You glance around, feeling the curious stares of a few people lingering nearby. “Okay, fine. What is it?”

Max wobbles slightly, gripping your arm like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. His eyes are glassy but serious as he looks at you. “I’m in love with you.”

You blink. “What?”

“I love you,” he repeats, louder this time. Then, almost conspiratorially, he leans closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Like, really love you. You’re … you’re perfect.”

“Max …” You hesitate, unsure how to respond.

“No, listen!” He says, pulling back to look at you. “You don’t understand. I’ve been in love with you for … forever. But I didn’t know how to say it, and now it’s too late, because you probably think I’m some idiot who-”

“Max,” you interrupt, placing a hand on his chest to steady him. “We’re engaged.”

His brow furrows. “What?”

“We’re engaged,” you repeat, holding up your left hand where the ring glints under the streetlights.

Max stares at it like he’s never seen it before. “No way.”

“Yes, way.”

His face splits into a grin so wide it’s almost childlike. “No. Way.”

“Yes, Max. We’re literally engaged. Have been for months.”

He takes your hand in his, squinting at the ring. “Holy shit. That’s a nice ring.”

You snort despite yourself. “You picked it.”

“I did?” He looks genuinely astonished.

“Yes, you did. And you cried when I said yes, remember?”

“I cried?”

“Like a baby.”

He lets out a delighted laugh, the kind that starts in his chest and bubbles all the way up. “I’m a genius,” he declares, throwing his arms in the air. “I got you to say yes!”

“Yes, Maxie. You did.”

He pulls you into a hug, nearly knocking you off balance. “I’m so lucky,” he mumbles into your hair. “Like, stupid lucky.”

“You’re also stupid drunk,” you point out, but there’s no bite to your words.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes wide and earnest. “Do you love me?”

You laugh softly, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “Of course I love you, you idiot.”

He beams at you, his happiness so pure it’s almost contagious. “Good. That’s good. Because I’m going to marry you.”

“Yes, Max. You are.”

“And I’m never going to mess it up.”

“Not if you keep calling me to pick you up from clubs at two in the morning.”

He looks horrified. “Wait, did I call you?”

“No,” you admit, “Daniel did.”

Max groans, burying his face in his hands. “That traitor.”

“Come on,” you say, tugging him toward the car. “Let’s get you home before you pass out on the sidewalk.”

As you help him into the passenger seat, he grabs your hand again, his grip surprisingly firm. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he says, his voice softer now.

“I know,” you reply, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

He closes his eyes, a contented smile playing on his lips. “I’m going to marry the hell out of you,” he murmurs as you buckle him in.

You shake your head, climbing into the driver’s seat. “You already are.”

And as you pull away from the curb, he’s still grinning like he’s just won the championship all over again.

[katsukistofu]

pls write more megumi!!!! i love how you wrote your recent fic ugh hes so perfecttttt

your wish is my command <3 tysm for enjoying sweetheart i’m glad you liked it ! :)

here comes the sun

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ m. fushiguro x fem reader. fluff. ★ car rides are more bearable when they’re with you.

It’s barely five minutes into the drive and Megumi’s already thinking that Itadori needs to have his license revoked. For life.

His hand darts over to cup the side of your head with a gentle yet firm grip, almost reflexively at this point, stopping you from hurling into the sidedoor after a particularly nasty jostle, for the third curse-forsaken time in a row.

“I think you missed running over a curb back there.” Megumi says dryly in the direction of the front seat.

A cool, summer breeze ruffles his hair as he carefully readjusts your head so instead of lolling to the side, it’s resting on his shoulder. There. That should be much more comfortable for you.

“Hey!” Itadori protests, hands a bit shaky on the wheel. He’s wearing pajama pants with little Spider-mans on them. “I’ve never been in a fancy car without a roof. I’m just getting used to her, that's all.”

“Her?”

“Yeah. Donna.”

Megumi arches a brow. “You named the car.”

“I mean that’s what sensei called her.”

“…Of course he did.”

“Can you two shut up?” Nobara hisses. She’s clad in her own Powerpuff Girl pajamas and Her eyes are still covered by the pink sleep mask that came as a matching set with your pants but you gave it to her instead . “We’re trying to sleep.”

“You are. She’s been knocked out.” Itadori points at you, who’s clinging onto Megumi’s arm like a koala.

“Only because I made sure you wouldn’t wake her up with your shitty driving.” Megumi scowls, curling a protective arm around your waist as the car swerves a little too far left for his liking. His Batman pajama pants brush against your Hello Kitty ones as his thigh bumps against yours, and if you were awake he knew you’d make a joke about them kissing.

“Eyes on the road, idiot.”

Itadori huffs and turns back around to face the wheel. Thankfully you’re still snoozing away, although the way you’re nuzzling into his neck is starting to make him feel a little warm.

Maybe he should have taken his jacket off and put it on top of your blanket.

They pass a herd of cows and Megumi can’t help the upward tug of his lips, remembering your excited squeals when they passed one earlier just an hour ago, chanting ‘Gumi look, Gumi look!’

“I see them,” he had said, more focused on readjusting your seat belt that had somehow unbuckled itself.

With a grin you pointed to a pair that was grazing near a patch of berry bushes. “Those two kind of look like us.”

He finally looks up after making sure you’re safely fastened, hand still softly resting on your waist.

“You’re right, one looks like it doesn’t even know it’s eating grass.”

The pleasant memory of your giggles are drowned out and he narrows his eyes as of course, Itadori and Nobara choose that moment to crank up the radio. It’s a band he never cared for, but remembers the name of along with the lyrics to a few songs because he knows they’re your favorite.

“Turn. It. Down.” Megumi mouths at them, but it’s too late and you’re already starting to blearily open your eyes. The boy that has you tucked beside him sighs in defeat.

On your side of the car, the sun is starting to set and it casts a soft, golden glow like a blanketed halo on your cheekbones down to the tip of your nose, to your cute lips. The rays caress your face in a way he only does in the privacy of his room, with you gently pinned underneath him.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Itadori grins, handing his phone to you. “Can you check if I’m going the right way real quick?”

You lean forward and blink against Megumi’s strong arm that’s suddenly in front of you, still half-asleep.

“Don’t tell her to do it, dipshit, she just woke up.” He glares at Itadori, taking the phone from him instead and taps the screen a few times. With his head leaning to the other side once he rests back into his seat, he wordlessly makes space for you to rest yours on his shoulder again and you do so happily.

“You were supposed to make a U-turn ten minutes ago.” Megumi deadpans as you yawn, still drowsy from your nap.

“Oh fuck.”

The four of you are finally at the picnic site, after what seems like driving for hours.

“Megumi!” You bound up to him like an overexcited puppy, and he bites back a laugh at your eagerness to show him whatever you found. “Close your eyes.”

If it was Itadori or Nobara, he would have definitely asked “Why?” before they pulled another one of their endless pranks on him but since it's you, he shuts them.

There’s a cool sensation that glides against his ear, and he realizes it’s a petal. You’re tucking a flower into his hair, you must’ve found it under the tree where they parked. His eyes flutter open and he’s met with your familiar, adoring stare that never fails to twist his stomach into knots.

“It’s a peach blossom. Pretty, um, like you.” You mumble, suddenly shy as he gazes down at you with the barest hint of a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

No one’s around, Itadori and Nobara have long gone to find the perfect spot to set down the blanket, and Megumi brushes a quick kiss to your temple.

“Thank you.”

The peace of the afternoon is short lived when he walks with you to meet up with Nobara and Itadori, who have somehow attracted a group of ducks from the nearby pond. One nips at Itadori’s butt, who narrowly manages to dodge it while Nobara is holding her Balenciaga purse high out of the feathered menaces reaches. “Stop that, this was almost two hundred thousand yen!”

Megumi rolls his eyes and barely manages to stifle a snort. He holds your own purse that he’s been carrying this whole time steady for you as you dig into it and whip a paper grocery bag out.

“I have lettuce, don't worry guys!”

His midnight blue eyes glint with fondness as they follow your figure when you bend down to feed the ducks and kindly lead them away from the food that’s sprawled out on the picnic blanket, talking to them like you would with a baby kitten.

Oh he’s going to kiss you breathless later.

Nobara and Itadori nearly fall to your feet. “Our savior!” They cry in unison and you laugh, patting them both on the back. Your best friend then gets up and smacks Itadori with the side of her bag.

“I told you we should have left the chips in the car! Those ducks could have choked to death and it’d all be your fault.”

Your other best friend pouts. “But they were pizza flavored, I wanted to savor them under the flowers!”

“Ew.” Nobara says, already shoving one of them in her mouth, and she holds another chip up to your lips for you to try. “They taste gross, right?”

You chew thoughtfully, and sneak your hand into the open bag to get a few to feed Megumi. “Hm. Could be better.”

“Yeah it's kind of lacking,” Megumi says, his soft lips brushing against your fingers as he takes his another cautious bite.

“Don’t you three say that with your mouth full!”

─────────

So the car got towed.

Gojo’s fuming and Megumi’s pretty sure he’s going to try grounding the four of you, but with a simple bribe of his favorite zunda and cream kikufuku courtesy of your culinary skills his forgiveness is easily attainable.

He absentmindedly wonders if you knead the delicious dough you make from scratch the same way you randomly pinch his cheeks.

The glow of the passing streetlights behind him reflects in your eyes like a thousand tiny, shooting stars and when he looks into them he swears he can see the Milky Way. They’re fighting to stay open after you tiredly slump onto the train’s last empty seat, sandwiched between Nobara and Itadori’s already dozing forms who were scrolling through nail art ideas with you just moments before as he occasionally made comments when you prompted him to, “Would look cute on you” and “That color’s nice” falling from his lips. His eyes soften as he looks at you.

“Gumi…” You softly murmur and his head perks up.

“Yeah?” He leans in closer to hear you, and bites back a chuckle as you mumble something unintelligible. “It’s okay, go to sleep. I’ll stand here and watch you guys.”

“M’kay. ‘Night ‘night, love you.” Is all you whisper before passing out.

“I love you too,” Megumi mutters under his breath, low enough so that it falls on no one else’s ears in the car. You can’t hear him because you fell asleep before you could, but he doesn’t care, he says it anyway and hopes that as his words linger in the air it brings you sweet dreams.

He notices the faint goosebumps on your thighs and takes off his jacket in one swift motion to cover your lap. You’re wearing a shorter skirt than usual today, and like hell he’d let you freeze because of the train’s air conditioning.

His burning eyes flick up from your unaware, adorably blissful face to shoot a scathing glare at the man who’s been glancing your way since you got on the train, and steps closer to shield you entirely from his view. The intimidated stranger looks away quickly, and a small, victorious smirk makes it way across his lips.

That’s right you were his girl, and he’s going to make damn sure everyone knows that.

[ariseur]

hii!!! can you do “their attitude immediately uplifts when you’re around” with megumi please?? congrats on 500!!

✧˖° - saved this one from the 500 event even if it’s been a few months, fic quality is crap lately because of lack of motivation .. sorry in advance (◞‸◟)

gritting his teeth, megumi doesn’t even spare his mentor a glance once he hears a teasing, “what’s with the attitude, ‘gumi?” from behind him. instead, he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his uniform, warm from the fact that he keeps fidgeting with his hands in and out of his pockets. he’ll take them out, mess with his fingers, shove them back in, and the cycle ensues.

“don’t call me that.”

“fushiguro’s just mad his partner hasn’t texted him in the last hour,” nobara yawns before lolling her head to the sky, savoring the view of dusk. her lip quivers as she holds in a laugh, struggling to pretend she doesn’t feel the way megumi turns around only to pointedly glare at her.

“ah, so that’s what it is?” he jolts at the hand on his shoulder with gojo’s ever growing coos. a brash hand ruffles his hair and he shrugs it off harshly, maneuvering out of the way so that he was safe from the assault; the edge of the sidewalk his sanctuary.

“she’s at the school, though?” yuuji replies guilelessly. . . even though the only response he gets is a sharp flick to the side of his head.

“i know that, stupid — we’ve just been on this mission for days,” megumi says, facing forward as yuuji rubs the spot of his head with a soft pout.

“ah, young love,” gojo sighs. “can’t even live without each other.”

“shut up.”

nobara huffs, “you know, you were the one scolding them for going on that mission a month ago?” she stretches and puts a hand on her hip as a blur of pink hair nods in agreement.

megumi doesn’t say anything to that. maybe because everything’s just pissing him off — his friends, gojo, the sun that-no-matter-how-much-he-thinks-of-how-beautiful-you’d-think-it’d-look-is still so blinding that he has the urge to take his hands out of his pockets once more. sweat forms on his furrowed brow as he closes his eyes to drown out the soft teasing and mindless chatter carried by those two idiots. oh, sorry — scratch that, three idiots.

but when his eyes scrunch shut, all he can think of is you. your face, burned into the haven on his eyes, is the only thing that appears, except for the other obscure, floating shapes that drift around the darkness. but behind all those weird. . . blobs, he can make out your eyes; crinkled at the corners with your smile. your stupid, stupid smile.

megumi opens his eyes again. he can’t even escape you with his eyes closed. fingers fiddling with the loose seams in his pocket, he ignores the way his palms get sweaty even when he tries to pretend he doesn’t care.

“. . . and i heard the food here’s okay.”

reverie soon broken by yuuji’s voice growing back to normal volume, megumi’s eyes finally flicker in their direction. nobara making a face at the reviews of the place he’s talking about online, itadori walking backwards while he faces gojo; the slick bastard, who already knows how megumi’s looking at him, turning his head ever so slightly.

even if he has a blindfold, megumi clenches his jaw at the fact that he can tell he’s looking at him.

so he sighs in exasperation before throwing another glare at them.

“you guys realize we have about four hours to get home, right? and we’re not even on the shinkansen yet,” he can practically hear his classmates roll their eyes. “it’s already getting dark out and—“

he’s cut off by a raised hand and gojo shaking his head fondly. “alright alright,” putting his hand back in his pocket, his head tips up towards the sky. “since loverboy wants to go home, we’ll just go ahead and get some tickets for the train already.”

gojo chuckles at the whines nobara and yuuji emit in unison.

“yeah, yeah. i’ll take you guys out another time — preferably when megumi’s not feeling so grumpy,” a hand comes up to ruffle megumi’s hair and he does everything in his power not to swat it away.

once they’re on the bullet train, the ride’s pretty silent; save for the irritant, loud coughs of the man across from them and the quiet bickering between dumb and dumber in the seats in front of them.

jade eyes occasionally darting next to him, they narrow at the sight of his teacher — a placid smile on his lips, never faltering the whole way back from their mission.

“you excited?” he asks, catching the boy off guard.

“for what?”

“to see them.”

megumi presses his lips together. “it’s not like we’re dating or anything.”

he’s met with a soft laugh as gojo slumps back in his seat, spreading his legs and interlacing his fingers, cracking them with the extension he brings forward before he shakes his head.

“you might as well be,” he shrugs.

megumi squints. “what does that mean?” with a small cock of his head, gojo’s laughing grows louder until his student’s looking around in all directions and shushing him.

but, being satoru gojo, megumi has no choice but to sit there and slink into his seat, hiding his face from the turning heads in nearby seats.

“it means,” the white haired man swallows as he extends his blindfold to act like he’s wiping a tear from his eye. a breathy chuckle and he finally turns back to megumi, “it means that it’s so obvious—! i don’t know how you don’t see it.”

“there’s no way,” crossing his arms, megumi looks away from the man.

“way,” said man grins. “you guys are so into each other.”

“shut up.”

“do i hear two people sitting in a tree?”

“you’re so irritating,” he massages his temples — although, nothing can ever properly drown out gojo’s teasing. he sighs, wondering how principal yaga does it. so instead, he closes his eyes with a wrinkled brow and leans back in the cheap seat, hoping to somehow fall asleep on the way there.

the last thing he hears is gojo’s giggles and what he swears is the sound of a camera shutter. he’s so gonna tell tsumiki about this, maybe she’ll knock some sense into him.

when he opens his eyes (or more so, they’re opened for him, as the first thing he sees when he wakes up is yuuji poking at his face for him to wake up), he rolls his neck around with a satisfying crack while the speaker system calls out how they’ve reached tokyo.

his bones feel achy when he steps off the train, the dull pain gnawing at the balls of his feet from all the walking and running they had to do today. it wasn’t a high level grade curse, maybe a three and a half or so.

megumi huffs when he looks at the maps on his phone. turns out he had to endure at least twenty minutes of walking once more before they got back to the school. the dawning sunrise paints over his vision as his eyes squint to see in front of him, ignoring the way nobara pokes his back to try and get a reaction out of him.

he can only pray he can see you sooner.

five minutes can feel like an hour, he thinks — and those twenty minutes seem to stretch on for eternity, even as megumi passes through the veil that shields jujutsu tech from the rest of the world.

footsteps like lead, he rolls his neck around to try and relieve the pressure that seems to have built up. his hand comes up to massage at the muscles but to no avail, his headaches only growing with every step. they only come to a halt when he sees a familiar head of hair, streaks of orange from the sky seeping into them; and there you are.

you’re talking with maki-san, waving your hand as you ramble about something. he makes a small noise when he stops, maybe because there’s also a firm hand slapping itself on his shoulder with fingers digging into his back.

his head whips around only to find kugisaki staring at him, her nails digging into his arm by the minute.

“oi, if you hurt them,” she furrows her brows. “i’ll kill you.”

he stares at her blankly, blinking once or twice. “okay,” he says.

“and then castrate your dead body!”

bewildered, megumi’s lips part a bit at a loss for words. unnecessary, he thinks.

“and then—“

“ah kugisaki,” gojo hooks his hand around the collar of her uniform to drag her away, despite the angry amount of mumbled curses spewed in feeble retaliation.

“megumi?”

he almost freezes at the soft call of his name, head turning towards the source before he sees you. you and your stupid smile.

(okay, not stupid, he decides. it’s pretty nice once he thinks about it. . . maybe because it’s all he thinks about. whatever.)

he mutters your name, his hands back in his pockets as he makes his way towards you. you throw a grin at maki, whom only rolls her eyes before slipping past the corner towards another section of the school.

his eyes occasionally dart from the stone path back up to you, and that’s how it goes. back and forth, back and forth. . . until you chuckle at his behavior and wave a hand over for him to come walk with you.

“how’s your leg?” he asks, trying not to look at the way the sun grazes over you too long.

you glance down at it and shrug with a small hum. “it’s been better.”

“i think that’s a given.”

“c’mon, it’s been three days since i’ve last seen you and you’re already getting smart with me?”

he huffs. “sorry, then.”

patting him on the back, you laugh heartily as you shake your head. “i’m just joking,” you say. “you were right that day, you know. i should’ve just listened to you.”

megumi’s brows lift, his lips parting with a soft, “ah.”

your head tilts up to spot the entrance doors, right where it leads to the dorms. you stop in front of the building, the tiny kanji on the directory reading, “boy’s dormitories,” being the boy’s wing and all.

“well,” he dismisses, “no point in beating yourself up about it now, right?”

you grin. “right.”

a lump forms in his throat, one he can’t get out — so instead of responding with a polite quirk of his lips or a hum, he turns his head to the wall with a soft ‘tch’.

“we haven’t seen each other for a while, though,” you begin, pushing off from the pillar with your shoulder before crossing your arms. “i’ve got the new weezer cd.”

he cocks a brow.

you chuckle, “do you wanna come by my dorm later to listen to it? you know how much i love your critiques.” your fingers form small all air quotes at the end of your sentence, to which he scoffs — he doesn’t notice the way your eyes look at him when he turns away.

he looks at the stairs, then back up at you with a small hum; which is megumi for “yes”.

“i’ll see you later, then,” you beam, hopping down the stairs as you throw him one last, small wave.

he lifts his hand with a meager one of his own, before watching you walk away, your head turning the corner first in hopes that maki or panda are still loitering around somewhere.

in the distance, he fails to see yuuji, maki and inumaki watching him from afar.

“fushiguro’s always like that with them, huh?”

“salmon,” inumaki nods, his words muffled behind his uniform.

maki grumbles, pushing the bridge of her glasses up. “that idiot,” is all she says before she starts walking away. yuuji cocks his head a bit before watching as the two walk away.

megumi doesn’t care as he closes the door behind him and walks down the hallway until he finds the familiar door of his room. he can’t help but let his lips settle into a small smile. you were the one thing his day got right.

so he’ll sit on his bed, thumbing at the worn threads of the nearby plush you got him at one of the more recent festivals you went to. he’ll look it in its eyes, dark and glossy buttons woven in, before he flops onto his back and starfishes on the bed.

he scoffs, “stupid,” before putting an arm over his face.

𐙚 taglist ; @sad-darksoul @kasumitenbaz @chxlexauriana @seternic @kalulakunundrum @2ukika @silly-norman

𐙚 requests are open — december twenty-ninth, 2024

[darklcy]

𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

‣ eddie's session runs longer than you thought. bored, with nothing to do, you find his shirt.

‣ eddie munson x reader | stranger things masterlist | 823 words | fluff, established relationship, idiots in love ig

‣ i havent posted him in a while and i just got to rewatching s4, so naturally-

He’d been gone far too long already.

You tried not to complain, not having the desire to suck the life out of his soul for simply engaging in his passion. Dungeons and dragons served as an enigma in your brain, its complexity never failing to swirl your thoughts in knots each time you tried learning to play. If him being late was the only self punishment for not comprehending the rules of the game, then perhaps it was justifiable.

..It was just late. And you were beyond bored.

Boredom was a lazy explanation for the feeling you were experiencing at the moment, but for lack of better word, boredom will do. Body sprawled across his mattress, Gremlins displayed in the living room television down the hall, fingernails touched skin in a pattern, as if counting sheep represented itself through your fingers. The night sky stretched further along the hours as you waited for his campaign to finish, but with the way your eyelids drooped and head bobbed, you may not be around for his return.

Laying back on your spine, ceiling coming into view, you fought the upcoming dreams with all your might to avoid slumber, wanting to greet Eddie properly the moment he stepped inside. Chin lolling to the right, a signature club shirt curiously grabbed your eye, the red faced demon poking through the gaps of his drawer. 

Huh.

Somehow that pumped a vein full of awoken energy throughout your body. Sitting back up, you crawled over to the drawer and yanked the shirt from its clenches, freeing the fabric from its prison. The demon’s eyes met yours in a sneer, and sometimes you wonder if the corners of his mouth grew each time you stared at him. Discarding your own top, you replaced it with his, the remnants of smoke and faint cologne wafting in your nostrils.

Eddie smelled like home, a sanctuary, a safe place. A bit ironic, with fire comes reassurance, in your world, that is.

The garment was a bit loose on your figure, the ends reaching just below your hips. With the canvas of your legs exposed from lack of pajamas, his shirt became your blanket and lover all in one, a figment of the real thing. This will have to do until he returns. 

Cheek pressed to the comforter, Gremlins had just barely faded out into the credits when sleep found you, tucked away and hidden in the cotton of Hellfire.

“Baabe, I’m home.”

Brass met knob when Eddie unlocked it open, enjoying the warm heat of the trailer compared to the brisk November air outside. Campaign was good, as usual. Dungeon Master certainly had its perks, even if repeating senior year didn’t. The journey to his bedroom was swift, eager to finally end his day with you by his side, how it always should be. 

However he wasn’t at all, in the slightest bit, prepared to greet you adorning his beloved club shirt, soft skin of your thighs bare, asleep comfortably in his bed. His bed. Alone. With his shirt on. And boyshorts. Oh, wow. You were going to be the death of him.

It was as if he’d been transported to the Moma, viewing a delicate, historical self portrait of an acrylic artist from the 1700s. You were a sight to behold, and for him only. His feet almost sunk into the floorboards from the sheer weight his heart plummeted against his ribs. He’d just fallen in love  all over again. How do you do it so easily?

A gentle groan emitted in your throat as you shifted. What a sweet sound. You’re so sweet. 

Crouching down towards your face, his ringed knuckle gilded hair from your eyelashes, a smile on his face at the way you stirred from the action. When your eyes awoke to meet his, his lips only stretched wider.

“Mornin', sweetheart.”

Stretching out your arms, a yawn escaped you as a sleepy, “Oh, you’re home,” uttered out in a jumbled whisper. His full palm caressed your face now, occasionally smoothing down your hair while continuing to grin at your drowsiness. He couldn’t get enough.

“Yeah, Hellfire ran a lil late. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

You shook your head into his fingers. “No, you’re fine. I was just bored.”

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as he moved to sit beside you. His fingers transitioned from your cheek to the shirt on your skin, rings grazing the neckline and shoulder. Eddie had never seen anything like it, and he wore this exact thing every god damn week. 

“You look beautiful like this.”

It was as if complimenting a model, the way he spoke so carefully and tender. You gave him a look.

“..It’s comfy. I might steal it from you.”

He’d give you anything he wanted if you gave him the word. His lips captured yours in a trance, ending too quick for your liking. 

“You should. You wear it best.”

—

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Your date--or non-date--with Eddie was ruined when he dodged your kiss. Or...was it? (5.4k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, anxiety, parental conflict, poverty, Reader wears a miniskirt, drinking, drunkenness, making out, heavy petting, mentions of smut, mention of masturbation (m), idiots in love, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

chapter eleven: undo, undone

He pulled away.

You leaned in for a kiss, and Eddie pulled away.

The full extent of rejection hadn’t even set in before you felt something cold and wet on your leg. An electric blue liquid dripped down your shin, traveling in winding paths like veins. 

Haziness shifted into perfect clarity, flinging you into sudden and unwanted sobriety. The music was too loud, the dimmed lights still too bright. Every conversation was now too loud, the floor sticky beneath your Doc Marten-ed feet. 

When you mustered up the nerve to look at Eddie, you saw that he had fared even worse; his entire left pant leg was drenched and already reeked of gin and the cerulean syrup stained his sneakers. His eyes widened as he processed what had just happened, a startled deer in the headlights. 

“Oh my God; I’m so sorry!” 

The drunken apology snagged your attention, coming from none other than the woman who’d brutally massacred Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. She stumbled forward again, and whatever remained of her drink sloshed over the glass and onto the floor. 

Her lower lip jutted out into a pout and panicked tears welled in her eyes as she looked from you to Eddie. “Have you seen my boyfriend?” Her words were slurred; ‘seen’ came out as ‘sheen.’ “I can’t find him anywhere.”

“I’ll help you find him.” Anything to get away from Eddie, to avoid the thundering question: Had he pulled back because of the spilled drink, or did he cause the spill by pulling away?

It had to be the latter. He probably regretted ever offering to celebrate your graduation and would spend the rest of the evening ruminating over how he’d inadvertently led you on. Was it dedicating a song to you? The dancing? 

Except…neither of those had been his idea. You were the one who insisted he sing karaoke. You were the one who asked him to dance. He relented to appease you, and you’d completely humiliated yourself by stretching his kindness past its platonic confines. 

The woman latched herself onto your arm with one gin-soaked hand and swiped at her cheeks with the other. Up close, she barely looked old enough to legally drink. “His name is Charlie.”

“Huh?” Her boyfriend. The one you were supposed to be locating. “Oh, right.” 

Eddie scrubbed his jeans with a wad of flimsy napkins, muttering under his breath when they left a papery residue in their wake. He grumbled something about the restroom before storming off in that direction. 

Your new drunk companion rested her head on your shoulder, permed hair tickling your neck. 

“What does Charlie look like?” The bar wasn’t big, not even by New York City standards, but having a general idea of who you were looking for would be a massive help. 

She just laughed softly, a joke only she knew, head lolling as she spoke. “Y’know…tall-ish. Blue eyes. Has, um, hair with a little woop thing.” Her palm mimicked an ocean wave. Just as you had predicted, the gesture provided nothing of relevance towards your search. 

You gritted your teeth in a forced smile. “Okay, right.” Sucking in a harsh breath, you led her to the bar and ordered two waters, practically shoving the condensation-frosted glass into her hand. 

“Where’s your boyfriend?” It all came out as one word: Wheresyourboyfren?

“He’s not—” You shook your head; there was no sense in trying to explain the situation to a wasted stranger. “Bathroom.”

The girl’s droopy lids snapped open. “That’s where Charlie went!” She threw her head back and cackled, and you quickly roped an arm around her waist to keep her from teetering over in her too-high heels. “You’re gorgeous, by the way. No wonder your boyfriend looks at you like you’re a fucking goddess.” Her mood rapidly shifted to one of ire as she threw out, “Bet he’d never leave you alone in this skeezy bar.”

Except he had left you alone in this skeezy bar—and he wasn’t your boyfriend. 

You could still feel his soft cotton t-shirt beneath your fingers, the way his curly tendrils of hair brushed along your hands. The gentle nose crinkle each time he smiled at you from the stage was forever etched into your brain. 

At what point did he realize he’d made a mistake? When did regret tarnish his good deed?

Tears pricked in your eyes as the weight of humiliation now set in. Your mascara would run, but who cared? It wasn’t as though you had anyone to impress anymore. 

The TV above the bar flashed with the red and blue of police lights, the colors blurred by your own tears. You blinked them away just in time to read the closed captioning scrolling along the bottom of the screen. 

The frontman of an up-and-coming punk band once again finds himself in legal trouble. Caleb Dalton, the lead singer and guitarist for Death’s Echo, was arrested early this morning for disorderly conduct and public intoxication. 

The video showed a young man keeping his head down so his shaggy blond hair covered his eyes, his hands cuffed behind his back and rendered unable to shield his face.

This is not the first time Dalton has landed himself in hot water. Just last week, the troubled musician was arrested for allegedly driving under the influence; his court date is set for early next month. All of this erratic behavior has fans wondering how this could impact the band’s first world tour, set to begin mid-June.

A professional photo of Death’s Echo took up the entirety of the screen. There was Caleb Dalton, front and center, shirtless and brooding. To his immediate left and right were two other men, one incredibly tall and lanky with gleaming chains dangling from both his neck and the belt loops of his dark-wash JNCOs. The other was shorter, stockier, wearing a black tank top that was littered with holes. If Eddie’s recollections of swanky hotel rooms and impromptu helicopter rides were true, the holes must have been purposefully designed to heighten the band’s grungy look. 

But the member who snagged your attention was the only woman in the group. Her eyes, thickly rimmed with kohl and sheathed in a smoky shadow, bore into your soul. Blonde hair fell in jagged layers and framed a heart-shaped face, her crimson-painted pout simultaneously beckoning suitors to come hither and stay away. 

You imagined those lips on Eddie’s for half a second before your drinks threatened to make a reappearance. 

The report ended with the obligatory statement: “Dalton’s rep could not be reached for comment,” before shifting to the next story. 

Tongue firmly adhered to the roof of your mouth, you gulped down some water in hopes of ungluing it. In hopes of sorting out your thoughts, jumbled from embarrassment and the jolt of alcohol to your system. 

If Eddie had seen that…you couldn’t stomach the thought of him watching as his replacement’s lips subtly curled into a smirk as he was shuffled along towards the police car. That was the smirk of a man who knew he’d evaded the law before and would likely do it again. Fame and fortune certainly had their ways of tipping the scales of justice. 

The news would almost certainly usher in unwelcome memories of his hometown and the people who took joy in vandalizing his trailer. The people who continuously made his life a living hell and faced no consequences because of their pristine reputations and Eddie’s tarnished one. 

You shoved the information deep down and vowed to never let it bubble over. If Eddie found out on his own, that was one thing. But you refused to further ruin this evening for him. 

“Dianna?”

A man’s worried voice called out from the back of the bar, his sandy eyebrows pinched together as he scoped out the cramped venue. With his crisp button-down and khaki pants, he could be Eddie’s polar opposite. 

“Oh my god! Babe!” The girl yanked herself from your light grasp. You realized that you hadn’t known her name until that moment, though there was a decent chance she wouldn’t even remember it if you’d asked. She stumbled over to the man—Charlie, you assumed—whose concerned expression dissolved into relief the moment she flung her arms over his shoulders. 

Charlie pulled her close and let out an extended sigh. His jaw relaxed, lips pressed to her temple as his frenetic energy tapered and his heart rate slowed. “Scared the shit outta me, babe.” He murmured against her ear. “Why didn’t you stay at the table?”

Your heart ached at the way he held her close, a precious commodity that he would protect with his life. Would Eddie ever touch you like that? Would he leave protective kisses all along your shoulders, nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck? Would he panic if he thought something happened to you?

If his rebuff of your kiss was any indication, it was highly unlikely.

Dianna shrugged. “I wanted to get another drink, but then I spilled it all over her boyfriend,” she said, pointing to you. 

Charlie looked in your direction as though seeing you for the first time. “That explains the guy standing at the sink, washing his pants.” His fingers sifted through the blonde curtains that flopped right back to his forehead, adding to no one in particular, “Dude looked pissed.”

Your stomach roiled, whiskey and vodka burning at the base of your throat. Between your unwelcome advances and Dianna’s drink snafu, Eddie’s good deed was far from unpunished.

The urge to empty the contents of your stomach only heightened when you imagined the look of utter disgust Eddie must have worn when you leaned in for that kiss and the embarrassment he felt on your behalf. A man bought you a drink, obliged your request for a dance to a mediocre karaoke rendition of a song, and you took that as some grand romantic gesture? Pathetic. 

It was just another way that you let people down. 

Eddie’s expectations of a night out with a platonic friend. 

Mom and Dad’s expectations of you taking over the motel. 

Your own expectations of Eddie secretly harboring romantic feelings for you, strong enough to shine through the cloud of insecurity constantly surrounding you. 

Once again, you were a disappointment. 

The room’s walls began closing in, filling your lungs with wet sand that clung to the muscle and made breathing an impossible task. A fuzzy film blurred your vision and warped the room until it was utterly unrecognizable. 

Air. You needed fresh air and to get far away from this godforsaken bar. A wave of heat crashed over you again and again, dousing you in your own perspiration and keeping your feet pasted to the floorboards. 

Don’t cry don’t cry don’t—

“Heiress?”

Eddie’s voice shredded through anxiety’s haze, his worried tone bursting the bubble with a violent pop. The world began shifting back into place, your mind floating back down in reluctant reunion with your body. 

“Hey.” Strong palms clasped your trembling shoulders. He leaned in to ensure you heard him over the pulsing music. “Let’s get outta here, okay?”

Your response was a meager nod. His fingers glided down your bare arm, goosebumps rising in their wake, as he took your hand and led you outside. The burst of night-chilled air was a sweet nectar; your bones drank it up like a delicacy. 

Diaphragm loosening, you took one shallow breath, then another that rested a bit deeper in your chest. You anchored yourself in the moment until you once again recognized the subtle press of your lungs against your ribcage. 

Home. You needed to get home. 

Peering down to check your watch, you realized that Eddie’s hand still clutched yours. The pad of his thumb traced lazy lines along the skin between your thumb and forefinger, steady as a heartbeat. 

“It was getting kinda crowded in there, huh?” It was said entirely for your benefit, you knew: Eddie was accustomed to packed arenas and sold-out stadiums. 

Another nod. “Y-Yeah, I wasn’t expecting it t-to be…” That was the whole reason why you’d suggested a Monday night, but Karaoke Night must have brought in an influx of new customers. Couple that with the end of the Memorial Day weekend, where people didn’t want the party to end after the family barbecues wound down, and you had the perfect recipe for an overcrowded bar.

Eddie dug into his back pocket as the two of you began walking back towards the motel, procuring a dented box of Camels and his trusty lighter. His eyes, illuminated by The Brink’s dim neon signage, flicked over to yours. “Is it cool if I…?” He raised the cigarette, pinched between his pointer and middle finger, unlit until you gave your approval.

“S’fine.” You watched his thumb glide over the sparkwheel, igniting a tiny flame. The scent of burning tobacco wafted off of the end of his cigarette, the wind blowing a curl of smoke in your direction. 

He waved his hand to ward it away from you. “Sorry,” he mumbled. When he took another drag, it happened again. “Jesus Christ. Here.” Tucking the cigarette between his lips, he planted his feet behind you and placed both hands on your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks. Electricity crackled beneath his touch, his fingertips the lightning and his voice the gentle rumble of thunder.

Stop it, you reprimanded yourself. He dodged your kiss. You can’t be thinking this way anymore.

He sidestepped to your right, the breeze now carrying the smoke away from you. Another deep inhale had the flame ripping through the paper, ash building up on the cigarette’s tip. The flakes floated down and decorated the tops of his sneakers in a gray snow. A warning sat on your tongue, hampered only by the cool dampness suddenly touching your bare leg. 

Eddie grimaced at the way you stumbled and stepped away slightly so the wet denim no longer pressed against your skin. “I got most of the drink out, I think. It’s just soap and water at this point.” 

You stopped again, stooping down and pinching the fabric of his jeans between two fingers. The scent of gin still clung to him, though not as strongly as it had immediately following Dianna’s spill. Or maybe it was just the tobacco’s heaviness that overpowered it. That damn cigarette, so smugly perched where you longed to be. 

“I’m doing a load of laundry tomorrow,” you managed, shaking off the remaining thoughts of Eddie’s lips as you carefully stood up. The last thing you needed was dizziness spinning you to the ground. “I can throw these in with my stuff, if that’s okay.”

Eddie grinned. It was the first glimmer of happiness you’d seen from him since asking him to dance.

“Trying to get in my pants, Heiress?”

Your feet caught beneath you. You dug your heels into the pavement to steady yourself, sending up silent praise to whatever omnipotent presence kept you from falling flat on your face. 

If he was joking with you…he wasn’t mad. He wasn’t unnerved by your attempt to kiss him. 

You invited relief in, just enough to loosen a retort from your arsenal. 

“Don’t make me rescind my offer,” you quipped back. “And in the meantime, I’ll just tell people you pissed yourself.”

Eddie quirked up an eyebrow. “On the outside of my leg? I can see why you studied psychology instead of anatomy.”

There was nothing you needed to focus on less than Eddie Munson’s anatomy right now, the way it might feel against your own, within your own. Not when the ship had only just begun steering down the right course again. 

“That girl found her boyfriend, by the way. Or, he found her, I guess.” It was the first subject your brain latched onto. When Eddie’s reply was a confused stare, you hurriedly elaborated. “The girl who spilled her drink on you.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” He flicked some more ash from his cigarette and took another wistful drag. “This whole night was a blur.” 

You forced yourself to choke down the insecurity that had lodged itself in your throat. “Rockstar can’t mix liquor like he used to?” You tutted disapprovingly. “Maybe you’re getting a little rusty. Out of practice.”

“Please.” He scoffed, snuffing out the cigarette on a brick wall. “Did you see my moves tonight?”

You certainly had. Each hip swivel, each pelvic thrust was firmly etched into your memories. And then there was the way he’d danced with you, leading with the confidence of an order but the tenderness of a suggestion. 

“Fair enough,” you conceded. The fresh air was working wonders; you stood a bit straighter as you continued walking alongside him, your footsteps in time with his own. “I still can’t believe you sang Elvis.”

“Me either.” Eddie laughed through his nose. “I was going to sing something Ozzy-adjacent, but then I saw Heartbreak Hotel and figured it fit better with, y’know, our whole thing.”

Our whole thing. An invisible and intangible thing, but he felt it, too. Felt it enough to acknowledge it aloud. 

A smile blossomed on your lips. “You were easily the best one up there. Singing, dancing…all of it.” Flattery embedded in truth, you noted the tips of his ears tinging red. 

“I don’t think anyone would mistake me for a dancer.” He chuckled, hand swaying out just enough to find purchase on your back and pull you an inch closer.  

You swallowed back desire and forced yourself to focus on anything but the press of his fingers against your spine. “N-No future career in Elvis impersonation? Or ballroom dancing?” 

“Nah.” Eddie shook a stray curl from his eyes. “And I definitely stepped on your toes while we were dancing.”

“You didn’t.” If he had, you didn’t notice, too swept up in the warmth of his closeness to even register any overlapping feet or bumping knees. 

Someone barely visible in the inky night lugged a garbage pail across the sidewalk, the scraping of metal bringing your heart into your throat. The noise must have startled Eddie, too; his fingers tensed against your side to hold you in place as he stepped in front of you. 

“Shit.” He swore under his breath. Nervous, awkward laughter permeated the air when he realized that the threat was no more than a dented hunk of metal. “Sorry about that. I just thought–”

“S’okay.”

Comfortable silence, as much as the city streets allowed, accompanied you as you walked back, broken only by crickets’ rhythmic chirping and car engines revving down the boulevard. Eddie’s eyes stayed alert to his surroundings and his grip remained tight around your waist, adrenaline still coursing through his veins from the earlier scare. His chest nudged your back; you could feel his heart thumping a protective beat.

A hunger to kiss away that fear, to nuzzle yourself into him until his pulse steadied and his breathing regulated, settled into you. You were starving to restore his lightheartedness. 

Eddie’s voice was rife with apprehension when he spoke again. “I, uh, think we got interrupted. Back at the bar.” 

He looked away as he spoke, and it took a moment for you to register what he said. Surely he wasn’t referring to the kiss—or lack thereof. He wouldn’t be bringing it into the conversation now that the embers of your embarrassment had finally stopped burning bright. 

You shoved the thought far from your mind, temporarily quelling the memory’s intensity and allowing yourself to think straight. The slow dance–he meant the slow dance being interrupted. “The song was almost over, anyway,” you said softly.

“I’m not talking about the dance.”

Oh. So that meant…

“Heiress.”

A hint of a warble clipped his nickname for you. Eddie’s left hand wrapped around your upper arm, fingers barely touching skin, but it was enough to stop you in your tracks. You caught the way his tongue flicked over his lip, the way his cocoa irises darkened even under the streetlamp’s flickering light. Fuzziness filled your brain; your breath hitched in some unknown space between your lungs and your throat.

His right thumb brushed your chin, your jawline, memorizing the texture of your skin. He smiled, the gentle upward tug of the corners of his mouth suddenly the center of your focus.

“Heiress,” Eddie repeated, the word a whisper that left your bones humming. 

You nodded, your own fingers tangled in his cotton shirt, pulling him an inch closer that still felt like he was a mile away. He would never be close enough, you realized. 

His palm slid to your cheek, his fingers tucked behind your ear, beckoning you to take that small step forward and bridge that gap. It was your choice. You could back away and unfurl your fingers from around his shirt. You could ignore the aching need in your core, the one that matched his. 

You deserve to be happy, he’d said.

And for once, you allowed yourself to believe him.

You believed him when you stepped into him, your chest against his, rising and falling in perfect synchronicity. You believed him when noses clumsily bumped together as you sought his lips, the lips from which symphonies of music and laughter flowed. You believed him when you finally found them after the agonizing seconds, minutes, hours, days–time both hastened and ceased to exist–and connected with Eddie on a level only ever reached in your runaway daydreams.

Expectations slid down your back and swirled down the storm drains when his tongue sought entrance at your lips. There was no school, no motel, no troubled lead singer. There was only you and Eddie. 

A calloused palm clutched your shirt, the fabric bunching between his fingers. The fervor of his tug pulled the neckline down past your collarbone to reveal one white bra strap. 

Eddie’s lips danced over your uncovered shoulder, forefinger sliding under your bra strap and toying with it once his mouth returned to yours. The touch was burning, the promise of pleasure sending sparks careening down your spine. The flames spoke nonsensically, whispering to let him undress you right here in the street. 

His hunger for you was seemingly just as insatiable. The hand that rested on your cheek dove to where your skirt curved along your ass, wrinkling the stiff denim as he squeezed harshly. You let your own grasp fall from his collar to his biceps, feeling them instinctively flex beneath your touch. 

More. You needed more. You needed all of him, needed to give him all of you, until you were wholly unified with no clear beginning or end to you and Eddie as separate beings. 

Your hips rolled into him, a soft moan leaving his mouth to safekeep in yours. You let it trickle down your throat, relishing in the subtle hardness that you felt pressed against his fly. 

A shoulder collided with his and sent both of you stumbling, Eddie only holding you tighter to prevent a fall. His arms wrapped around you as he scowled at the man who dared to occupy the sidewalk while the two of you were locked in an embrace. 

“We’re in the way,” you murmured against him, nose grazing the hint of stubble peppering his jaw. 

Eddie said nothing in response. His eyes shone with equal parts determination and desire. In one swift, impulsive motion, he grabbed your wrists and led you off to the side, away from any passersby. 

“‘S probably better that we stop.” The disappointment weighing down his words spoke volumes. “Your shift starts soon.”

You shook your head. “We can be fast.” Your lips attached to his neck, sucking lightly as your teeth grazed his exposed skin. 

“Look at me, Heiress.” Eddie sighed and leaned against the nearest lamppost. He kept two fingers curled into your belt loop, bringing you with him. “I don’t wanna do this with a timeclock going.”

“It’s fine, really.” Kissing him forever still wouldn’t be long enough. 

A chuckle punctuated his breath. “When we do that…” His thumb brushed over your lower lip for a second time. “I’m not gonna be rushed. I’m gonna need hours, Heiress. Because once I have you like that, I’ll never be able to stop.”

Heat seeped into every pore, bringing with it a familiar ache. Needs and wants blurred together until they were indistinguishable from each other, his kisses having siphoned all logic out of your mind. 

You allowed a moment for the fog to clear and reality to settle. No, you couldn’t fake illness and burden your parents with an extra shift, just to have sex with Eddie. No, you shouldn’t run your fingertips along his zipper and awaken the beast that he had managed to quell. No, you wouldn’t let lust wield its power like a mighty sword, slicing into all reasoning until it was unrecognizable. 

“Y-Yeah.” You swallowed back temptation, your gaze falling to where his arousal was still evident in his jeans. 

Eddie’s eyes followed yours, accompanied by an embarrassed huff of laughter. “Don’t worry about that.” The tip of his nose grazed your earlobe as he whispered, “I can take care of that later.”

His admission brought the imagery of him laying back in his bed, boxers haphazardly shoved halfway down his thighs and hand wrapped around his cock. You wanted—needed—to know how he touched himself. Did he tease the head with his thumb? Did he use his other hand to cup his balls? Did he gradually edge himself or did he sprint towards euphoria?

The cold metal of his belt buckle brought goosebumps through your shirt fabric as he kissed you once again, too briefly. Always too briefly. What you wouldn’t give for just a few more moments alone with him to unfasten that buckle yourself. 

“Heiress?” 

Eddie’s smile lifted you out of your thoughts, the smirk informing you that he knew you weren’t paying attention. 

“Hmm?”

Lips connected to the soft skin just below your ear; your body reflexively arched into their butterfly touch. “What time are you doing laundry tomorrow?”

“Oh, um,” You calculated silently, the inside of your cheek trapped between your teeth. If you went to bed at 6 A.M. and then slept until early afternoon… “No earlier than two. I can knock on your door when I’m ready.”

He nodded as he threaded his fingers with yours. A current of protection surged through the lines etched in his palms, wrapping you in a cocoon that kept the rest of the world at bay. The sounds of car horns and pedestrians’ conversations and the subway rattling under the grate faded into the background, too dull to even hear. There was no one except for you and Eddie.

The motel entrance loomed ahead, the dimming sign filling you with ambivalence rather than its usual sense of tranquility. Despite the headaches and heartaches it brought, it was still home. 

Tonight, however, you approached it with newfound apprehension. Entering the lobby meant that you had a choice to make: You could keep your grasp on Eddie’s hand and risk your mom seeing, or you could let it go before she noticed. 

You reluctantly untangled your fingers from his, anxiety defeating you with a fatal blow. His hand draped over your wrist for the briefest moment before falling unceremoniously to his side. It hurt to look at the confusion pinching his brows together, his mind spinning to determine the miscalculation that caused you to let go. 

Telling Mom would be too complicated; you’d basically be subjecting yourself to a lecture on the unprofessionalism and dangers of forming romantic relationships with the guests. 

No matter that you’d never pursued so much as a friendship with a guest prior to meeting Eddie. No matter that, with him, you felt more whole than you’d ever been. More true to your authentic self. 

Mom looked up before the bell jingled, a product of her maternal sixth sense. There was no missing your smudged lipstick or the pinkish-red marks across Eddie’s mouth that nullified any alibi he might create. 

“Did you two have fun?” To her credit, Mom kept her tone nonchalant, but her narrowed eyes saw it all. 

“Mhm.” You scraped at the corner of your lip, as if that would conceal the evidence. “Eddie sang Elvis at karaoke.”

That got a smile out of Mom, her posture softening slightly. Still, distrust radiated off of her skin, twisting the knife of inadequacy deeper into your stomach. She glanced between you and Eddie, sizing up the situation. There was nothing she could say at that moment. Not with Eddie standing right there.

“I’m gonna get changed and I’ll be right back.” You couldn’t bear to meet her gaze as you walked to your room. 

A piece of you hoped that Eddie would be waiting when you returned. You stripped off your skirt first, the denim dropping to the ground and revealing your panties. They were, in fact, pink and lacy; the kind that one might wear if they planned to show them to someone else. As if you and Eddie would have been able to sneak past your mom unnoticed. 

You tugged on a pair of jeans, too worn and wide-legged to be capable of showing off your figure. 

The make-up you wore to the bar was too dark for work, and you scrubbed at it until mascara residue stained your white washcloth black. You rinsed, scrubbed, and repeated until your face was bare. Tired eyes stared back in the mirror. 

Honesty was a weight in your chest, anchoring you in an abyss of your own shortcomings. It pulled you down, down, down until the waters were too murky and the pressure was too strong to swim up to the surface. 

With a deep breath, you pushed off of the sink ledge and headed back to the lobby. Only Mom was there, her disdain no longer hidden now that the two of you were alone. 

“Eddie’s in his room,” she said, as though reading your mind. 

“Okay. Yeah, he’s probably tired—”

“You know better than to get involved with a guest—employee—whatever he is.” Mom waved her hand in irritation. Her voice was sharp, cleaving through the facade with one cut, yet hushed in case of eavesdropping ears. 

You cast your eyes down to the floor. “We’re—we’re not involved. Things just got out of hand, but we’re colleagues. Friendly colleagues,” you added off-handedly. 

Mom sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want you making friends,” she started, “but it’s not a good idea for you to get close to Eddie. If you have an argument or a falling out…”

“I know.” It compromised too much. Eddie could pack up and leave at the drop of a hat, and the motel would be without a handyman. You weren’t sure how the place survived before he was around, changing light bulbs and plunging toilets and tinkering with minor electrical problems. Now that he was here, he was an invaluable asset. 

“Okay.” Mom looked at you once more, a warning flashing in her eyes. “Okay.” Stepping out from behind the desk, she watched as you took her place. 

“Mom?” All of your truths begged and pleaded to be unleashed. Your feelings for Eddie, graduate school, plans for the future. 

She stopped, stunned by the vulnerability in your tone. “Yeah?”

Tell her. Stop being a coward and tell her. 

“I’m gonna wash clothes around two tomorrow, if you need anything done.”

Failure. 

Mom loosened a breath that blew away some of her anger. “I’ll ask Dad, but I think we’re good.” She leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I know running this place hasn’t been easy, but we’re really proud of you.”

“Thanks.” Every ounce of your remaining strength was spent on tempering your emotions, swallowing the pit that formed in your throat. “Get some sleep.”

The ugliness of your lies wrapped around you, constricting vines that dug into your skin and severed the flow of blood and air. 

The daughter they were proud of didn’t exist. Maybe she never did. And the daughter they had was surely nothing less than a disappointment. 

It wasn’t until the silence settled in, swallowing you whole, that you realized you’d never bid Eddie good night.

--

taglist:

@theintimatewriter @mandyjo8719 @storiesbyrhi @lady-munson @moonmark98

@squidscottjeans @therealbaberuthless @emxxblog @munson-mjstan @loves0phelia

@kthomps914 @aysheashea @munsonsbtch @mmunson86 @b-irock

@ginasellsbooks @erinekc @the-unforgivenn @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975

@yujyujj @eddies-acousticguitar @daisy-munson @kellsck @foreveranexpatsposts

@mykuup @chatteringfox @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @sapphire4082 @katethetank

@sidthedollface2 @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @mysteris-things @mrsjellymunson @josephquinnsfreckles

@the-disaster-in-waiting @eddielowe @hugdealer @rip-quizilla @munson-girl

@fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin @hellfire--cult

[katyawriteswhump]

steddie microfic: of ogres and omegas

For @steddiemicrofic november prompt, guard, 532 words.

Rating: E; CW: omegaverse, fingering, slick, sexual content, slightly under negotiated but they're totally into it; Tags: fairytale omegaverse, alpha Eddie Munson, Omega Steve Harrington, happy ever after.

Summary: Omegas are rare, sold at great price, and coveted by all beasts. Fortunately, Eddie’s one true love has got moves that can put even warmongering monsters off their guard…

❤️👹❤️👹❤️

You gotta tough it out like an Alpha, Munson!

So, here Eddie was, climbing the rope-like ivy up Castle Harrington’s tallest turret. The higher he got, the stronger he smelled the desperate fear of the Omega imprisoned within. On reaching the window, he was so angry he’d forgotten he was scared shitless of heights.

“Stevie?”

“Eddie?” Steve clutched the bars, knuckles whitening. “What the—”

“Ssssssh.” Eddie perched on the sill, yearning to comfort his Omega. “There’s a single guard outside your door. It’s one of them.”

Steve’s breathing grew choppy, his scent bitter. Today, his royal parents intended to marry him to the chief of a pack of uber-alpha ogres—half-humanoid beasts famed for their lightning reflexes, blood lust, and despicable manners.

“Relax,” soothed Eddie, heart panging. “Here to rescue you, my love.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “You’ll break these bars?”

“Sorry. They’re magically reinforced. However, the ogres have one weakness. You.”

“Me?”

Eddie explained. In the castle library, he’d discovered the scent of an Omega going into heat rendered most uber-alpha ogres totally bonkers thus easy to overpower. Their arch-alpha-ogre chief was immune… but the guard?

Easy prey.

“Sorry to be a buzzkill,” bitched Steve. “How do I get horny while terrified my idiot Alpha is gonna plummet to his death?”

Eddie’s fraying nerves snapped: “You WANT to marry somebody who’ll keep you in a magic cage, so you can’t nerf his army with your hotness?” Steve whimpered; Eddie sighed. “We got this, love. C’mere.”

They embraced tentatively through the bars, and Eddie stole a kiss. Steve parted his lips with a needy moan, his honeyed scent bloomed, and he purred softly. Eddie’s hand soon nudged up beneath Steve’s short tunic, stroking the bare thighs beneath.

“Okay?”

Steve nodded, breaths hitching, slick trickling already.

“Can’t wait to fill you with my Alpha dick,” Eddie growled, probing gently between Steve’s folds. “Gonna make love to you every night. You’ll smell sweet forever more.”

Despite his peril—and the bars wedged between them—Eddie was getting achingly turned-on. Steve gasped, head lolling back, arms around Eddie’s neck loosening. Eddie found a foothold on a jutting stone and pressed another digit into Steve’s virgin hole.

He gently finger-fucked Steve, till a wave of fresh slick drenched his wrist, and a gorgeous candied scent exploded. Steve started chirruping uncontrollably. Eddie growled in raw hunger, even as Steve’s spacey eyes sharpened slightly:

“Go,” squeaked Steve, cheeks flushed feverishly. “I’ll take it from here. L-love you!”

Soon, Eddie crept up the spiral staircase to Steve’s prison. Peeping around the final bend, he saw a drunkenly-swaying ogre opening Steve’s door, pumping his huge monster dick.

Crap! There’s the flaw in your genius plan, Munson!

Fortunately, he felled the ogre with a single sword blow. Inside, Steve writhed on the canopied bed, sobbing desperately, frantically stroking between his legs.

“I gotcha, Stevie.” Eddie scooped his Omega into his arms.

“Mate me. Now. Gonna die!”

“Sorry. Gotta skedaddle or we’re both gonna die.”

Eddie galloped off into the night, before his Omega’s luscious scent aroused the whole castle. Safe in his uncle’s hide-out, he laid Steve in a warm nest, and did everything he promised and more to help him through his first heat.

❤️👹❤️👹❤️

Tags: @wheneverfeasible <3 My ST fic on AO3

[aloysiavirgata]

Loved your Skinner POV. I am the ultimate sucker for a Margaret Scully POV. Do one? *doe eyes*

Cancer. How can it be cancer, how can Fox already have been at the hospital, how can they plot and whisper and conspire; how can Dana have cancer?

Margaret is so angry and so afraid. So, so angry.

Terrified.

She has the wild, insane thought that Dana is too beautiful to have cancer, as though Melissa hadn’t been too beautiful to be casually murdered.

Fox looming and lurking in hallways and corners and sunsets and pre-dawn stillness. Like a grim guardian angel, like the beautiful statue of Lucifer Bill once took her to see at Liège.

Margaret sees Fox kiss her daughter’s bright hair one night, kiss her daughter’s sad, smiling mouth.

She doesn’t know what she wants for them. She crosses herself and walks away.

***

She doesn’t understand the situation with Emily, not really. She listens to everything Dana says about induced hyperovulation and surrogates and she nodded, dutiful, because she can hear Dana’s throat so tight, trying not to cry.

Emily is very sick, Dana says. The courts have no precedence for this, Dana says. I want to help her, Mom.

If Emily is Dana’s, if she really is, then she’s Margaret’s granddaughter and Margaret, to her shame, doesn’t want her to be.

Fox stands in the corner of the room, staring out the window at nothing, his jaw hard as stone. He radiates a quiet steadiness and Margaret feels her strange, lovely daughter draw strength from it, like a solar panel on a bright day. Are there lunar panels? Mulder’s eyes are nothing like the sun.

He radiates a cold fury and Margaret almost has pity for the target of it.

“When I was abducted by Duane Barry,” Dana begins, her voice mostly steady. “Wherever he took me had some kind of program where-“

Fox slams his fist into the windowframe and Margaret jumps, gasps. “Fox!”

“Mulder…” Dana breathes, her eyes closed.

He stalks from the room like a panther. Like an assassin.

***

“I’m pregnant,” Dana says, a little blushing laugh. Her hand splays over her flat belly.

Margaret surges with such piercing love for this incomprehensible child she birthed. “Oh honey,” she breathes.

Dana drops her head to the side, cheek to shoulder. “I’m so tired already,” she confesses. “I don’t know how you had four with Daddy away.”

She reaches for her daughter’s slim fingers. “I wanted five. Eight, if we could have. Three miscarriages after Charlie and then….” she is appalled at herself. “Dana, I’m so-“

Dana squeezes her mother’s hand. “Miscarriages aren’t some kind of thought virus, Mom.”

Margaret squeezes her hand back. “I know, I know. It just feels like bad luck. And Fox, will he be….?”

Dana looks up, a flush high in her cheeks. “Why are you bringing Mulder up?”

Margaret rolls her eyes. ““I’m a Vatican I Catholic, Dana. Not an idiot.”

Her daughter has the grace to look away. “He wants me to marry him,” she murmurs.

Margaret loves Fox. She loves him the way people love barn cats and funny cock-eared dogs and every pied beauty. But all of a sudden it’s Fox at Thanksgiving, Fox properly at Christmas this time. Uncle Fox, wedding-anniversary Fox, Fox calling her…what? Mom? Surely not Mrs. Scully still.

Margaret knows her children have done the math on her oldest son’s birthday, that he was mighty hefty for a “preemie.” She knows her latest grandchild deserves to be born in wedlock, she knows every Catholic from Father McCue back to Saint Peter would be absolutely appalled with her.

“Be sure of what you want,” she says to the chestnut tree just past the living room window. To Saint Mary Magdalene, to all repentant sinners.

***

William, six. William clever and tall for his age and gingerbread-colored like his father, with his mother’s round lapis eyes. Fiona, four, happily squirting colored water into a large plastic bin of shaving cream. The twins - Silas and Clara- are nearly three and getting bathed in the sink by their father. Dana, a tenured professor, lolling on the couch. Dana pregnant with number five.

Dana yawns like a cat over some tedious medical journal. Dana ever rail-thin since her cancer. Dana still looking depleted of essential nutrients. Phosphorus? Zinc?

But Dana is still a doctor, so Margaret is silent.

“Are you all right?” Margaret asks her irritable daughter. She beams at Clara, absurdly chubby, with her Aunt Melissa’s coppery curls. Clara with her plump hands like little stars. Silas, rosy and dark-haired, howls in general indignation. Silas with his father’s fairy-forest eyes and impossible lashes. Silas who loves to pat his grandmother’s cheeks.

“Mother I’m FINE,” Dana sighs. “Sy, hush. It’s only warm water.”

Margaret watches her son-in-law for a time, watches his long hands and his furrowed brow as the twins laugh and splash and protest in the deep farmhouse sink. Her Bill could never have done what Fox does.

“Loretta Lynn said she stopped having babies when they started coming in pairs,” Fox observes, sluicing water over his anguished twins. Clara laments pitifully. Silas has a broken air about him, weary as his mother.

Dana laughs, sweet as communion wine. “Stop knocking me up, then,” she grins, hand over her enormous belly.

“Not until you marry me,” Fox replies, thumbing Silas’s fat cheek. Kissing his darkly curled head.

Fiona on the carpet, giggling as William makes farting sounds in his armpits. Fiona with the blackest hair and the bluest eyes and the most perfectly sprinkled freckles like her Uncle Charlie.

William like a wood-elf, so tall and bright.

Dana laughs again. “No priest would ever, would they, Mom?”

Margaret, exhausted and happy, sighs at the pair of them.

In the oven, turkey tetrazzini from the Thanksgiving leftovers. Potty-training sticker charts on the fridge. Will’s perfect math homework, Fee’s wobbly I LOV YU!! above a careful crayon drawing of her family.

Margaret could have never predicted this, could never have seen Fox in sweats and baking Texas Sheet Cake for the PTA. Fox staying home and juggling nap schedules so that Dana could tell anecdotes about maggots to her adoring students.

Fox has a blog, which is Quite The Thing nowadays. Fox is a bestselling author. He’s made the talk show circuit and the girls from bunko send her newspaper clippings.

Fox towels off his exhausted babies. He diapers them, dresses them in fleecy pajamas. They look at him with enormous, reproachful eyes. They pout.

Margaret holds her arms out, draws them in when they toddle over.

The babies nestle, nuzzle, make sweet baby sounds as the sink drains away. Their little mouths pop open, lashes curled on their flawless cheeks. She’s never expected Dana, of all of her children, to be living this life. Cold, prickly, distant Dana with her lunatic partner and her brain cancer and her dead little girl.

“There are infinite infinities,” William tells Fiona. “But some infinities are larger than others.”

[onehoplessromantic]

MASTERLIST

Jeon Jungkook | Min Yoongi | Lee Minho | Lee Felix | Kim Mingyu | Bang Chan | Kim Namjoon | Jung Hoseok | Choi Seungcheol

-constantly being updated- <- (that’s a lie)

updated 11/1/2024 [link check]

!!authors!! if u want ur work removed plz dm me:)

Helloooo! its been a while hasn’t it? School is dying down so I finally had a chance to update this master list! I have updated the counts and info on fics that were already there and added a bunch more (new idols get hype). another fun new thing is that im going to open my taglist, so whenever i update a new chapter or add a new fic or whatever, whoever wants to will get a notification. all you have to do is just add a note to the post that says “taglist” and ill add u, im trusting that youre over 16. anyways! enjoy the new library of fics!!!

peace 🫶🏻

PSA: if you want to be kept up to date with the happenings of this list you can sign up for my tag list here so you will be notified when i add fics or chapters and you can choose to keep up with bigger announcements as well

fluff-> 🤍 | smut -> 🍋 | angst -> 🌧️ | major tw -> ‼️

Jeon Jungkook

♡ I Want You to Stay | @ahundredtimesover

series | wc: 261.3k | 🌧️🤍‼️

boss!jungkook x assistant!reader

PLEASE READ WARNINGS

idiot strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers if you squint, k-drama feels, angst, drama, fluff, smut, sexual themes, power dynamics, anxiety, depictions of assault and aggression [chapter 8] (specific warnings on post)

♡ strong enough | @hyukaslvr

series *ongoing* | current wc: 32k | 🌧️

idol!jungkook x idol!reader

idiot exes to lovers, slow burn, kdrama feels (kind of like our beloved summer minus the salt and water if yk loll), angst, drama, fluff, smut

♡ guilty pleasures | @kookslastbutton

series *ongoing* | current wc: 28.4k | 🌧️🍋

ceo!jungkook x reader (?) idol!tae x reader

!!!okay so the fate of the story has not yet been decided, you’ll get it once you read!!! (not poly!!)

angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto (?), coworkersto (?), unrequited love, smut, sexism, morally grey-ness, swearing, alcohol consumption, sexism in media and business, toxic relationships, abandonment issues, explicit sexual content

♡ things you don’t know | @btsgotjams27

oneshot | wc: 4.3k | 🌧️🤍

jungkook x f!reader

angst, ex best friends au, language, light kisses, miscommunication, reader jokes about unaliving her other best friend, mentions of throwing up

“i thought i’d never see you again”

♡ the farmhouse | @solecize

series | wc: 52.3k | 🌧️🤍

jungkook x reader

estranged friends to lovers, small town au, childhood best friends, slice of life, cowboy-ish jungkook, grief, mentions of death, death, fear, drinking and substance use, mutually pining, explicit language, jk as a parental figure (you’ll see), angst, fluff, growing up

♡ Chasing Cars | @oddinary4bts

series *ongoing* | current wc: 155.2k | 🌧️🍋

brothers best friend!jungkook x younger sister!reader

18+ mdni!, forbidden love? au, college!au, slice of life, smut, angst, fluff

♡ The Boy with Galaxies in His Eyes | @oddinary4bts

oneshot | wc: 52.9k | 🌧️🍋

idol!jungkook x tattoo-artist!reader

fwb to lovers, idol!au, angst (a lot), smut (a whole lot too), fluff, oc’s ex-boyfriend died and it takes an important place in the story, swearing, fuckboy Jungkook, fuckgirl oc, a whole bunch of red flags, miscommunication (they learn how to communicate don’t worry), exes that can’t stay out of your life, alcohol, they be a little toxic but they get better, explicit content: fingering, pussy slapping, squirting, oral sex (male and female receiving), mouth fucking, dirty talking, jungkook has a slight begging kink and an exhibitionism kink (not that present in the fic), dom!jk, switch!reader, car sex, sex in a tent, hair pulling (I think), tits/nipple play, unprotected sex, a little bit of ass slapping, mentions of choking

♡ For the Birds | @yoonieper

series *ongoing* | current wc: 65.9k | 🌧️🤍🍋‼️

jungkook x reader

slow burn, lots of smut (not always healthy), cheating, discussions of depression, this series includes Jk in a pretty toxic environment, degradation (not the sexy kind), manipulation, and overall Jk being in an emotionally abusive situation! please read with caution!!

♡ how long will we fall | @jiminrings

oneshot | wc: 14k | 🌧️

jungkook x reader

soulmate au, painful f2l, unrequited love, a lot of angst, more fluff n wholesome moments, emotional constipation, yearning, jealousy, swearing, redemption arc, ngl jk kinda toxic

♡ touchin’ | @whatifyoulivelikethat

oneshot | wc: idk loll | 🍋🍋🍋

jungkook x reader

rated M (18+) for language, lovers that call themselves friends-with-benefits because jk is a fool, both parties are freaking annoying tbh, smut (fem reader, double lip piercing jk, heavy petting, standing doggy with clothes on, lots of neck making out, light nipple play, lowkey forearm kink), fluff, non-idol!au - jk is wearing the outfit from his 2023.06.29 weverse live

i dont usually recommend smut but this was just too good not to

♡ first class | @girlygguk

oneshot | wc: 25k+ | 🍋🤍🌧️

rich student!jk x (f)rich student!reader

childhood best friends, nepo baby!reader & jk, kth younger sister!reader, heavy pining, language, emotionally constipated characters, miscommunication, toxic/unhealthy friendships, fwb relationship, fighting, blood, alchohol consumption, smut (see fic for full warnings there was way too many to write here)

Min Yoongi

♡ Countermelody | @bonvoyagenoona

series | wc: ~100k | 🍋🌧️🤍

yoongi x reader

small town enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, smut, humor, producers!yoongi, hobi, namjoon, songwriters!yoongi, hobi, namjoon, musician!reader

♡ Oh! Darling | @yoongiofmine

series | wc: 108k | 🤍🍋🌧️

professor!yoongi x student!reader

fluff, angst, smut, non idol au, university au, mild age gap (emphasis on mild, yn in grad school and yoongi in his early 30s), forbidden romance

♡ Kitsungi | @moni-logues

series | wc: 105k | 🤍🍋🌧️‼️

yoongi x reader

strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non idol!au, angst, smut, eventual fluff ‼️alchohol consumption, yoongi and reader are both depressed, depressive episodes, attempted suicide, toxic relationships (readers ex), jokes about death, death, vomit, self harm, self deprecation, language (specific warnings posted for each chapter)

NOTE: please read the warnings carefully, there is a lot of heavy topics in this read

♡ Grey Area | @blushoseoks

series *ongoing* | current wc: 98,832 | 🌧️🍋

min yoongi x reader

heavy angst, language, alcohol consumption, university au, soulmate au, eventual smut, weed consumption, slow burn, death

♡ Illicit Favors | @yoongiofmine

oneshot | wc: 29k | 🍋🍋🍋

producer!yoongi x author!reader

smut with plot, friends to lovers, smut, more smut, even MORE smut, mutual pining, virgin reader, teaching sex au, this oneshot is amazing plz read it

♡ back-burner | @yoonpobs

series | wc: 95k | 🌧️🍋‼️

yoongi x f!reader

sisters best friend!au, best friend to lovers!au, sorta frenimies?to lovers!au, angst, *slow burn*, smut, fluff, one sided pining (?), longing, sibling jealousy, insecurities, family trauma, explicit language, eventual smut, eventual fluff, MAJOR ANGST, sexual harassment, mentions of poor mental health, alcohol as a coping mechanism, mentions of poor health, neglecting ones health [specific warnings in chapters]

guys this is another decently heavy one with a lot of sensitive topics so make the decision that is best for you while reading this

Kim Mingyu

♡ Today was (not) a fairytale | @babyleostuff

oneshot | wc: 1.6k | 🌧️🤍

idol!mingyu x fem!reader

established relationship, mingyu forgets your anniversary…

♡ Snowbound | @papermatisse

series *ongoing* | current wc: 17.6k | 🌧️🌧️🌧️

kim mingyu x f!reader

death mentioned/near death experiences, depression, unresolved mourning, cursing, emotional neglect, slight age gap (mingyu is slightly aged up), reader implied to be smaller than mingyu, stranger danger (?), extreme weather (?)

♡ How to Win Hearts for Dummies (the answer is lattes and banana bread) | @gyuswhore

oneshot | wc: 12.4k | 🌧️🤍

idol!mingyu x makeup-artist!reader

one sided pining, slow burn, swearing, shitty bosses, some descriptions of anxiety and breakdowns, reader has issues opening up

♡ Hits Different (…’cause it’s you) | @gyuswhore

2-part series | wc: 40k | 🌧️🤍🍋

kim mingyu x reader

based off ‘hits different’ by taylor swift, brothers best friend!au, brother!seokmin, smut (part 2), friends(?) to lovers, university!au, slowburn, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, theres another woman (gasp…..but shes cool so), nayeon is a darling, seungchol is kind of annoying but we love him, smut tags in part 2

♡ sugar and you | @97-liners

oneshot | wc: 4.5k | 🤍

mingyu x reader

in which mingyu is an idealistic pastry chef, and you’re a cynical wedding planner who doesn’t believe in love.

fluff, just really sweet (hah) fluff, one-sided enemies to lovers

♡ back to december | @toruro

oneshot | wc: 4.3k | 🍋🤍🌧️

mingyu x reader

miscommunication, unrequited love (not fr tho), big dick mingyu, sex in a car, riding, fingering, pet names, creampie

guys that was a lot of smit warnings but i promise its not a smut fic just read plz

Lee Minho

♡ Invisible Thread | @astraystayyh

series | wc: 37k | 🤍🌧️

minho x reader

university au, academic rivals to lovers (rivals not enemies cuz they respect each other), slow burn, fluff, angst, poor relationships with parents, insecurities, she/her reader, mention of alcohol

♡ Lost in Translation | @moonjxsung

one-shot | wc: 26.5k | 🤍🌧️🍋

minho x reader

university au, babysitter!reader, older brother!minho, smut, angst, fluff, mention of pregnancy, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), pet names, (see other warnings)

Lee Felix

♡ forgive me for what i haven’t done | @rachalixie

one-shot | wc: 17.5k | 🤍🌧️

prince!felix x princess!reader

kingdom au, angst, betrayal, strangers to lovers, hurt/comfort, she/her reader, emotional manipulation and physical violence from readers father, mentions of violence

Bang Chan

♡ Dispatch | @baby-yongbok

oneshot | wc: 1.3k | 🌧️‼️

husband! 911 operator!bang chan x afab!reader

themes of home invasion, mentions of guns, please read responsibly!!!

Chan has heard a lot of calls being a 911 operator but this is never one he wanted to experience.

Kim Namjoon

♡ My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold | @daechwitatamic

series | wc: 76.3k | 🌧️🍋

KNJ x f!reader, unrequited KTH x reader

college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, pov changes, convos revolving around the past loss of immediate family members, language, drinking, angst, a LOT of poetry, eventual smut - sections will have individual warnings

Jung Hoseok

♡ Flower | @readyplayerhobi

series | wc: 177k | 🤍🌧️🍋‼️

hoseok x reader

depression, anxiety, self-loathing, lack of self-esteem, oral sex (receiving and giving) penetrative sex, fingering, kink exploration, anal, panic attack, discussion of car accidents, mentions of character death, body issues, sex toys, stress, drinking [smut isnt till later in the series btw]

Choi Seungcheol

♡ Always Only You | @honeyhotteoks

oneshot | wc: 14.2k | 🌧️🍋

s.coups x reader

non idol!seungcheol x fem!reader, older brother mingyu, seungcheol is mingyus bff, childhood friends to lovers, brothers best friend, reader is called a sl*t in a mean way by her shitty date, v protective cheol, reckless driving, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), reader is curvy and descriptors like full, thick, etc are used, makeouts, grinding, cheol is obsessed with pussy, oral sex (f receiving), hand stuff, smut

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ⓒ onehopelessromantic, November 2024

[eepywriters]

.✦°. • Birthday boy ( ´∀｀)

warnings: none, just pure fluff and simp Quackity

a/n: HI GUYS, I had to speedrun this so if it feels rushed I’m so sorry 😿 but I put heart into it so I hope y’all enjoy!!

Ah the bed, what a glorious invention. It’s comfy, fluffy, warm and, most importantly, it’s where, usually, one of the best activities it’s conducted: sleeping.

Now, Alex loves working, he does! It’s written all over his projects. The passion that drives every piece of work he makes couldn’t be as strong as it is without determination and etiquette. After all, he is indeed THE Alex Quackity, creator of the first multilingual server with live translations.

But sometimes, just sometimes, he doesn’t mind sleeping the day away. His pounding head and aching eyes beg for rest on the daily, so it’s nice to actually give his body and his mind a moment to shut down once in a while.

A touch on his naked arm made him stir in his sleep. He groans. He wasn’t ready to let go of his sweet slumber just yet.

“Alex, baby, wake up, I’ve got something for you”.

An half-conscious grumble leaves him, which was more of acknowledgement of hearing your voice speak to him rather than an answer to whatever you were babbling about. Cause listen, as sleep deprived as he could be, nothing could separate him from his bed when he was actually set on resting.

“Baby c’mon, we can nap later”.

The soft feeling of pillowy lips pressing against his temple finally rouses him from his sleep. He sighs, a throaty, sleepy sigh, while stretching his back lightly.

“There you are baby”

The gears on Alex’s head are slowly turning as his systems finally makes sense of the world surrounding him. And while most of his mind is concentrated on your delicate hand stroking oh so lovingly his cheek, he can’t help but notice the delicious smell that was floating around the air.

He opens his eyes, now wanting to find out what exactly was making his taste buds tingle in curiosity.

Oh what a grave mistake that was.

A streak of sunlight pierces his eyes instantly, making him close them back on instinct with a weak cry.

“Noo turn off the lights” he drawls sleepily, shielding his poor, aching eyes with his arms. His mouth was still pasty from his sleep and he, quite frankly, didn’t understand what was the deal about waking him up so soon.

And then you laugh, and on a normal occasion he would’ve bite back, cause you were obviously laughing at his idiotic behavior, but he was sooo sleepy and your laugh sounded sooo pretty. (When did he go to sleep again? 2 Am?).

Slowly blinking the sleep out of his system, Alex was met with a rather endearing sight: there you stood, a cute, big grin brightening your face whilst you looked down at him with an amused gaze. He could tell you where sleepy yourself, if not by your tired eyes, by the dark circle that were adorning your features. After all, what did anyone expect from the partner of Quackity? Two sleep deprived people are better than one. (He’s not gonna delve into what seeing you standing there with only an old t-shirt of his was doing to his body).

“Good morning birthday boy”.

Oh, now he knows why you rudely (not really) woke him up.

“Hey” he mutters, scratching his crusty, tired eyes, hoping that the sleepy haze that was still clouding his mind will go away.

“Damn that’s all I get? Not even a pet name? We live in a society…” you frowned.

“Shut up” he snorts, looking back at you, just for his eyes to stop at a little red box you were holding. It is very pretty: a big yellow ribbon was tying together the bright red walls of the box, and hey, was that a duck painted on the side of it?

Before his fogged brain can even come up with a question, you are already in action.

“Stand still, your only job is to look pretty now”

He quirks a brow. He’s not sure of what you have going on today, but he’s in for it, especially since he can still smell the sweetness of the treat you’re hiding inside that box.

He sits up and his head lolls backwards onto the cupboard, giving him the perfect angle to watch you fiddling around.

“It’s rude to stare you know?”

“Mhh is it? Even when there’s something so beautiful to look at?” he replies, jokingly wiggling his eyebrows up and down at you.

“You’re such a flatter” you sigh, yet he can see you hiding your smile in your arm.

You soon bring out a tray to him, which had a plate, a fork, an empty glass and a cute, pink piece of paper on top of it. You had obviously written on the paper - he could recognize your handwriting instantly in any context given - and really, it wasn’t even debatable since the paper read “Happy bday amor <3”.

He brought the paper up to his lips, leaving a soft peck on it before putting it on his nightstand. Was he dramatic with it? Yes, but he swears that when it comes to you he just can’t help himself but cherish everything you give him.

“Here you go, I hope you like it”.

You finally open the little box, reveling an adorable, tiny chocolate cake. It was simple: it was round, not more than 10 centimeters wide, and it feature a raspberry and two blueberries on top.

He licks his lips and dives into it immediately, not waiting for approval nor giving it any second thought. He chews on the cake with a satisfied hum, letting the sweet, but strong taste of chocolate invade his mouth. Again, it was really simple, but the fact that it came from you made it ten times more tasteful.

“Where did you buy this? It’s great” he says, searching for the label of the bakery on the tiny box you handed to him. Maybe later he could’ve bought some sweets for his guests there. He strangely couldn’t find it.

“Actually… I made it”.

Saying his mouth was agape would be an understatement, his jaw was on the floor.

“WHAT” he screams with his mouth still full. He did have the decency to swallow before screaming out again: “THERE’S NO WAY”.

He swears he could’ve died right there. Your shy smile and the light blush that paints your cheek enough to send his brain into override.

“Yeah, woke up early to make it today. I’m surprised you didn’t wake up sooner, I made quite the mess” you cackle to yourself, probably remembering all the ruckus you made whilst scratching your neck in embarrassment.

“Im surprised you liked it that much honestly” you trail off, insecurity dripping from your hushed tone.

Was it really though? Alex would eat anything you gave him if it followed a “I made it for you”. Yes, he was that whipped, and he isn’t ashamed of it. It always has been you, trough life and death, he knew from the moment he uttered the first “I love you” that you were his ride or die.

“You did amazing (Name)” he smiles, craning his neck just enough for you to share a sweet, short kiss.

“I can tell you worked hard for it, I’m proud of you” he whispers at mere centimeters from your face, like it’s something just for you to hear and hold dear onto. He leaves a peck on the corner of your mouth before sitting back again.

“I’m very glad you liked it” you say softly, giving him one of those genuine smiles he’d die for “BUT we got much more to do! It’s time to open your gifts!”.

You clap your hands excitedly, already scurrying off to put the tray away.

“What if I want to unwrap another type of gift” he taunts, moving his arms behind his head while wearing a sly grin. He kinda felt bad about making you do all the work, but he figures that maybe, just this once, he can let himself be babied a little.

You shake your head, looking at him with faux disappointment. Your hands found your hips as you scold him: “Cmon you horny bastard, we are going”.

“You called me a WHAT” he says in his typical high pitched voice, following after you. He catches up to you in an instant and wraps his arms around your frame, keeping you still.

“Say that again, i dare you” he threatens light heartedly.

“Nu uh”.

“Okay, you asked for it” he whispers in your ear, impossibly close.

The world went quiet. Your eyes widened.

You knew what was coming.

“No wait, we can talk ab-“

You weren’t fast enough to stop him. You signed your fate.

His hands move swiftly all around your body, wiggling his fingers on those he knew to be your weak spots. He laughs at you, laughs at your misery. Your body twitches uncontrollably and your lungs beg for air.

“S-STop FUGAHAH, oh my GOd- HAHAhH ALEX” you cry out, trashing around in his hold while he brought hell on earth on your poor body. He continues to laugh at your weak attempt to wiggle out of his grip, determined to make you regret calling him names.

“Nu uh”

Needless to say, you where among the few guests on Alex’s birthday stream, and you were also the one who had clean all of it up. Nonetheless, the afternoon was filled with laughter, a bit of alcohol, and carefree dances.

　　*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

extra:

Well cleaning up that mess was sure a challenge. You had to do 3 Tiktok browsing pauses before actually getting it done (to be honest, you did spend more time on your phone than cleaning, but you’re sure nobody will snitch on you).

Right as you put down the broom, you spot Alex coming towards you, the shit eating grin he was wearing giving away his intentions.

“Can I get my final gift now?” he speaks, using a gravelly tone that catches you off guard. It was hard to take him seriously when he still had some confettis stuck to his clothes, even though you’d be lying if you said you minded the offer.

“You moron” you laugh, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Is that a yes?” He whispers, leaving a soft peck on the crook of your neck.

“Fuck yes”.

[anakinniesluv]

Tying Dom!Ani Up & Making Him Beg <3

[Little Drabble]

(NSFW below the cut, proceed with caution)

⁂

He’s been teasing you all day. All fucking day. You couldn’t even get through one singular meeting without that ache in the pit of your stomach, your words becoming fumbled and embarassing with every attempt at ignoring him. A hand dragging up your thigh, whispers in your ear when nobody is looking, the look, you name it. Anakin has done everything in his power to make you flustered today, and it’s been pissing you off as the day advanced.

As soon as you were dismissed, you had your plan made.

That leads to now, where things definitely didn’t go the way Anakin would’ve expected. The last thing that would cross his mind is the picture of him restrained on your bed, whining and writhing like a bitch in heat. Your name rolling off his lips, his hips bucking in to the air and chasing your sweet touch. His face flushed, hair beginning to stick to the top of his forehead and his arms tied above him.

He whines as your hands leave him again, his head lolling back and his eyes closing. Each breath is laced with a whimper as he gets restless, the craving for release becoming primal. He knows he could get out if he just tried, but he doesn’t. He would love to pretend he hates this, but he doesn’t. It’s apparent in the way he chooses not to break loose, the way his cock twitches pathetically with each filthy word falling from your lips. Your fingers trace circles around his hips, narrowly avoiding the place he so desperately needs you to touch.

“I- please.”

“You don’t like how it feels, do you?” You say, voice ironically sweet for the circumstances. You take great pleasure in seeing him writhe under your touch, considering the roles would usually be reversed. A pitiful whine leaves his lips, his hips bucking up involuntarily. He’s desperate, pathetic under your control. And he doesn’t know why he likes it.

“What would your coworkers think, seeing the General Skywalker begging to be touched?” You ask, leaning closer to him but not touching. The teasing only gets Anakin more riled up, his muscles in his thighs tensing and intending as a way to keep his restraint.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t being mean today, but you already know that, don’t you? You’ve figured that out, because you’re not an idiot. You know full well that if you weren’t a tease I would’ve gladly let you do whatever you want to me.”

Anakin can’t help the way your words go straight to his dick, the red tip oozing precum. Force, you’ve barely even done anything at all and he looks like he could come if you just let him. Tears in his blue eyes, almost illuminating them. You love the control you have over him, the things you can do to him. You love how he’s gone from the stern, put-together General to this desperate man begging beneath you. All because of you.

Whines and keens leave his sweet mouth, and you’re only a woman. How are you supposed to resist? You finally wrap your hand around his dick, the precum doing fine as a lube. A loud, surprised moan falls from his lips and his hips buck. His face burns hot with embarrassment and desperation.

“A-ah please, pleasepleaseplease-” he doesn’t even know what he’s begging for. All he knows is that he needs you, needs to come, needs to feel you all around him.

You begin to pump your hand, and his moans are almost erotic. Anakin isn’t necessarily quiet, but he’s never been as loud as this. It seems taken out of one of those adult movies you’d find on rare planets, except it’s so natural coming from his mouth. Like he was made for this, made to lay beneath you and beg to come.

His dick twitches and leaks precum in your hold, his wrist bruising from the ropes as his hips thrust into your hand. You almost feel sorry for him, but that feeling is overcome by the burning sensation that intensifies with every whimper ringing in your ears. It’s not long before he’s babbling out nonsense, the sound of your name and pleads being the only thing you can make out of it. His muscles tense and relax repeatedly, a key sign that he’s tipping over the edge.

“Please, m’gonna come, please let me- I-” he whimpers, the authority he usually carries completely lost.

His voice breaks with every moan and whimper, his eyes squeezing shut and his mouth dropping open. You squeeze your hand particularly hard, and you see the exact moment he lets go. Stuttered breaths leave his mouth and that look on his face–oh that look– it’s like a reward. Getting to see him come undone under you as his hot ropes of cum coat his stomach, you could watch his face contort like that on repeat for eternity and you’d die a happy woman.

You only withdraw your hand when his tired breaths calm down, his head falling back onto the pillows.

Oh, you hope he knows you’re not done.

When his head lifts up and that smirk crosses his face, you realize that he may be the one that isn’t done. Meetings can wait, right?…

⁂

Note: first smut in a LONG while omg. Tell me if there’s any mistakes, not proofread!!

[avo-gal]

I came up with this au ages ago and just randomly remember it loll.

The doodles are all super messy and unfinished lol😅

Explanation of this au>>

So if u have been following me for a while u prob know abt my villain au (or as I usually call it the au where Varigo take over Corona). This is the same au just from Nurus pov. Bc I was thinking abt this au again and what happens with Yong and Nuru. In this post I'm gonna be explaining all the lore for this au so u might wanna get comfy lol.

First let's start with Nuru bc that's what these drawings are Abt. (Quick tw for trypophobia)

In this au Nuru goes searching for a way to stop the meteor shower that destroys her kingdom in doing so she finds a stone which can restart time so every night she goes onto her balcony and restarts the day (like miss peregrines home for peculiar children) but this stone does have a limit. If she goes too far back in time it becomes excruciatingly painful and could kill her bc... (Drumroll) The stone is slowly corrupting and killing her body! Yay :D if she uses the stone for too long it will completely corrupt her body and kill her. Her dying would look like a mix between Luz's dying scene and this scene in a junji ito book. The magic would basically rot her insides and burn out through her skin :p

As long as she doesn't overuse her powers she shouldn't die for at least 45 ish years. U can already see corruption in her hair and eyes tho. Nuru desperately wants to find another way to save her kingdom but if she leaves for too long the meteor shower will destroy the kingdom and she doesn't want to burden another with the powers of the stone. So that's why she allies with Corona to find another solution. Koto has now become a very powerful kingdom due to Nuru's powers and has many allies (I will talk more Abt that later). Nuru and Varian are pretty similar in this au (I'll also talk abt that more a bit later) but Nuru tends to be more sure Abt her decisions and is less out of it than Varian. Nuru is also very possessive almost? And doesn't like criticism. Like REALLY doesn't like criticism (do with that info as u please) Also the song in the first drawing is queen of hearts by flailing idiot.

Amber

I'm doing amber next bc I don't have as much to say Abt her. Amber finds out that she has more family (Varian) and sets out to find him. When she does find him Varian is very skeptical of her. At first Amber tried to see the good side of Varian but inevitably can't deny he's insane. But she ends up finding out his sob story and decides to help (she's big on family in this au). Varian still isn't rlly sure what to think abt her but hey free labour so who cares.

One day whilst Koto and Corona are having some kinda transaction or whatever Nuru just kinda sees Amber and is like. That one. I want that. Varian is kinda like alr I don't rlly care Abt her. And they essentially have an arranged marriage but they learn to love each other (and honestly have the healthiest relationship in this au).

Yong/allies

I didn't have a huge amount planned for Yong at first but here's what I'm thinking. In this au Bayangor is a very poor Kingdom. One day whilst Nuru was searching for a way to save her kingdom she visits Bayangor and comes across an incredibly smart kid. She invites him to join her journey and promises that if she finds a way to stop the meteors his family can live in her castle bc he doesn't deserve to live in the streets. Basically after that Nuru practically adopts Yong lol and Bayangor becomes a close allie to Koto a big reason for that being despite how poor and small the kingdom is it does actually have some pretty good fuel resources. But no other kingdoms ever try to become allies because of how dead Bayangor looks.

I was gonna talk abt Varigo and Nuru and Varians similarities as well but idk if Tumblr has a word limit bc that will prob be triple how much is written here and this already super long😅 so I'll do it in the next post I have so much more to say but I'll put it all in the next post!!

Anyways u r so amazing for sitting through all that!!! <33 here's some snax <333

🍣🍝🍰🍨🥞🌮🍕🍟🌭🧁

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hey there! I was wondering if you could do a part 2 of Beach Defender where Poseidon and reader were married and had their child together. Can make it NSFW if you want and thinking of giving their child a younger sibling.

Love your work!

-“Mama! Look at what I found!!” you turned, having just finished throwing away all the trash of the small picnic you had prepared for you and your son, who looked exactly like your husband, Poseidon, only he smiled way more often.

-You smiled, seeing the shell in his hand, “Ooh it’s so pretty!” he beamed at your praise as you offered him a hand, taking your baseball bat in your other and started down the beach together, waiting for Poseidon to arrive.

-Your son looked at your baseball bat, a little confused, “Mama why do you carry that bat when we come to the beach? Are you going to play baseball?”

-You laughed softly, thinking he was adorable, but you told him the truth, “I carry it just in case if I need to discipline idiots who don’t respect the beach.” He looked up at you, “Like those who don’t throw their trash away?” you nodded, “Right- the beach needs our help to make sure that people are respecting it, because if the trash gets into the water, an animal could get hurt or try to eat it and get sick.”

-He gasped, looking mad, as you knew he was very soft on the animals, “I’m gonna do my best to keep the ocean clean!” a deep chuckle filled your ears, “That’s good to hear.”

-You both turned, and your son ran to his father, “Dad! Look what I found! I wanted to show you!” showing off his shell to Poseidon who smiled, ruffling his son’s hair, “It’s a good find.”

-Poseidon pecked your cheek in greeting as your son took off down the beach, running and having fun, making you smile softly, leaning into your husband, “He’s getting so big so fast.” Poseidon chuckled, nodding in agreement, “He is, but I have to wonder if he’s lonely.”

-You looked up at him, a little confused, “Lonely?” you then squeaked as you caught the look in his eye, knowing that look very well, “Perhaps it’s time to give him a little brother or sister, or maybe both.”

-You turned, looking out at the water, your face burning bright red which made him grin, seeing you looking so shy, you were so cute, but you never said no~

-That evening, after your son was fast asleep, burned out from playing so hard, you had been pinned to the bed almost instantly, Poseidon forcing your legs apart as he licked his lips.

-You arched your back, “How are you so fired up already?” he smirked down at you, quickly removing your clothes, “I’ve been thinking about pumping you full since I saw you early, walking down the beach. I wanted to see you dripping with my- ah!” his sharp cry made your blood ignite as you had bucked up against him, his lewd words quickly making you hot.

-Poseidon wasted no time, as soon as you were prepared enough, your wound your hands into the sheets, smiling up at Poseidon as he sunk deep into you, a moan leaving both of you as your legs quickly trapped him, winding around his waist.

-He sneered down at you as he started his pace, fast and hard, wanting to drive all thoughts from your head, “You’re not leaving this bed until you’re pregnant! I’m going to keep you here and make you take every-everything I have!”

-You surprised him by smirking up at him, as you knew how to handle him when he got like this, trying to give you demands like this, “You just gonna talk or are you gonna put a baby in me?”

-You saw the red glint in his eyes as he quickly had you rolled over, forcing your face down into the blankets while pulling your hips up as his pace became even more brutal, forcing the air from your lungs.

-Your tongue lolled out of your mouth, the feeling was so delicious as your back arched, whining out your husband’s name, begging him for more. He was silent, telling you that he was focused, but his actions said more than his words needed to as his hands slid around your waist, stroking you before one went up, cupping one of your breasts, pinching the nipple, “I can’t wait to drink out of these again. I can’t wait to see you swollen with my child again- I may have to make you pregnant all the time!”

-You bucked, making him hiss as you whined, you felt like melting, as his other hand went between your legs and you nearly shrieked, throwing your head back as he began to flick at your jewel, bringing you more and more pleasure.

-You lost count how many times you both came, everything hurt in the most delicious way and you felt so full, a soft whine leaving your lips as you cupped your belly as Poseidon spread your lips, watching his cum drip out of you, his hair down, sweat making it stick to his face as he smirked, “And if this doesn’t take, we’ll just do it again.”

-You wanted to retort back with something snarky to get him riled up again, but you couldn’t move, other than when he crawled up into your arms, resting his head on your chest, hugging you as you sighed deeply, a soft, content smile on both of your faces.

-Four weeks later Poseidon and your son were both celebrating while you were grinning, showing the ultrasound of your twins, surprising the both of them with the good news that would soon arrive.

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Hello, congrats on your 300 followers! Could I ask for chocolate and daisy and/or fern, whatever suits you! 😊

I looooooove a prompt that makes Zoro feel! This was so good!

Pairing: Zoro x Afab!reader

WC: 1400

Prompt: ”Yes, I have feelings for you. Anyway. Moving on from that.” 

— — 

“SHIT- *crash*” Your body slams into the ground after your knife strike failed to meet anything. You raise your body up on your arms in the dirt. “Ow…” 

“Another loss, little one.” 

You felt the smooth, cold metal of a blade meet the nape of your neck. You roll your eyes. 

“That really hurt, dickhead… thought you’d said you’d train me without killing me.” You crawl out from underneath Zoro’s blade, rubbing your ribs. 

“No one is going to stop kicking your ass just because you asked nicely, y/n.” Zoro retorted at you as you picked yourself up off the ground. 

“Whatever, Zoro.” You sheathed your twin knives back in their holsters and walked back towards the ship. 

“What? Done already for the day? Can’t handle it?” Zoro goads you as you walk back to the Sunny. 

You ignore him as you retreat to the showers. 

— — 

After your shower you spend your evening reclining on the deck in a lounge chair, trying to avoid the painful spasms in your upper back. Nami approached you coming from the galley with two plates of food. 

“Y/n look, Sanji made girl dinner!” Nami exclaimed as she placed your plate in your lap. 

“Hrmmph..” You groan as you look down at your plate of Caesar salad and French Fries. 

“This is literally your favorite meal… what’s with the attitude?” Nami furrowed her brows and looked down at you from the lounge chair by your side. 

“Zoro kicked my ass today. Everything hurts.” You slur out as you shove a forkful of dressing soaked iceberg into your mouth. Nami sighs as she puts a handful of fries into her face. 

“When are you going to realize that he’s only being so hard on you because he’s desperately in love with you?” 

You sputter out around your heavy bite of salad. 

“Obviously that’s not true. Zoro doesn’t feel things like that… he’s… weird…” 

“Are you that oblivious? Yeah he’s an idiot, y/n, but he’s still a man.” Nami shoveled a pile of Caesar salad into her maw. 

“You.. you think he’s into me?” You put your fork down and contemplate Nami’s thoughts. 

“Duh. Any moron can see that. Unfortunately most of our crew has gone beyond moron status.” Nami spits out with a full mouth. 

You silently finish your meal and bring your dishes to the kitchen. After putting away your plates you retreat to your bedroom and let your exhausted body relax into your mattress. You drift off to sleep, mind full of your sparring partner. 

— — 

“I’m going to hit you and you’re going to brace your body.” Zoro sternly advises you, training you to harness your true power, possibly unlocking your haki potential. 

“Fine.” You grip your twin knives and wait for the blow to fall. You focus your mind and try to harden yourself. You feel Zoro’s body rush past you and your senses pick him up from your right side. Instinctively, you raise your blades and block his sword. 

“You were supposed to let me hit you!” Zoro huffs out at you, pressing his katana against your own weapons. 

“Fuck… You!…” You hiss as you press him off you with your blades and he slides in the dirt 5 yards away. You knew you weren’t ready to take his full strength, so you defended yourself. 

“You can’t win like this! You need to listen!” Zoro comes back at you after sliding his third sword into his mouth. He was annoyed at your defiance during training today, he wasn’t holding back any longer. 

Zoro hits you with a three-sword-onigiri and you were blown backwards into a tree with superficial cuts across your chest.  

Your head thumps against the tree before lolling forward. You catch your breath and stand up. You wobble with the first few steps towards your crewmate and adversary. He was beating you with an unnecessary force lately, and you were tired of it. 

“Zoro…” You spit a thick glob of spit onto the ground next to you as you approach the swordsman. 

“Clearly you’ve had enough. And we just started.  Pathetic.” Zoro crosses his arms and looks at you as you stumble towards him. “You’ve lost your form entirely. You need to focus on-"

“Zoro… do you have feelings for me?” You lift your gaze to meet his. 

Zoro pauses for a long time. 

“Yes, I have feelings for you. Anyway. Moving on from that, you let your shoulders drop twice and your blade turn out when I-“

“THAT’S IT?” You shout at him. “You confess you want to be with me and you want to continue training? There’s no way you can be that aloof!” 

“What else did you want me to do, y/n? I told you the truth, and I continued our lesson.” Zoro tells you nonchalantly. 

“You want me? You want me, Zoro? Then show me, god damnit.” You push your tired body into his chest. 

Zoro grabs you by your twitching, tired biceps. He looks down at you.

“Fine.” 

Zoro smashes his lips onto yours. It wasn’t romantic, it wasn’t intimate, it was fast and needy. Zoro wraps his arms around your small frame and pushes his lips further into your face. 

“Take your fucking pants off…” Zoro huffs out into your mouth while raking his calloused hands through your hair. You oblige and strip your leggings and panties down off your feet quickly. Zoro picks you up by your waist and lays you down on the sand of the beach you two were training on. He leans back and undoes the sash around his waist along with the leather bindings on his trousers. His swords hit the ground along with the one from his mouth he discarded long ago. Zoro’s cock springs forward out of his pants and your mouth waters at the sight. You lift your sports bra up over your breasts so they would be exposed for your swordsman. 

“My bratty girl, I’ll show you how to obey someone…” 

Zoro grips his thick cock in his hand and strokes it up and down your wet sex. 

“Zoro…” You whimper as he dips the hot head of his cock in and out of your entrance.

“Yeah little one, I know you want it. But how can you really take it?” Zoro pushes himself flush inside of you and you moan out at the feeling. 

“I can! I promise I can!” You whimper out as you grab and claw at Zoro’s hips. You were so full and were ready to receive the full pleasure of your swordsman. Zoro began thrusting in and out of you at an inhuman pace. He gripped your chin in his hand and forced you to look up at him.

“That’s my girl. She can always take it, huh?” Zoro teases you as he lifts his free hand to rub softly at your sensitive clit.  “Oh you’re so tight now, baby. Gonna cum? It’s okay mama, you can cum on me, it’s okay.” 

You squeal and spasm on Zoro’s cock as he coaxes you through your orgasm. He was talking you through your intense pleasure. You babble incoherently as Zoro presses his body further into yours. 

“I have so much cum for you, sweetness… I know you can take all of it…” Zoro grips your hips and looks down at you into your eyes. You gasp as you feel the beginning twitches of his cock releasing into your walls. Zoro’s stored load was so big that it spilled out of your hole while he was stilled buried deep within it. 

“Mmmph… Zoro….” You stroke your swordsman’s back as he finished emptying his large load inside of you. 

“”Hmmmrhppphh…. (First initial)… sleep…. Hngggnnphh…” Zoro cuddled your body close to his on the beach and started to snore.

“Oh no way, I’m leaving your ass here!”  You hopped up and swept the sand off your sticky body. You start to walk towards the ship alone before you turn back around and see a conked out moss head on the path leading to the boardwalk. 

“Oh you shit head…” You groan before you return back to the beach and pick up Zoro’s exhausted body and lifting it over your shoulder and returning to The Sunny. You tuck Zoro into your bed and strip yourself of your sandy, salty clothing. You slink into bed naked and pull Zoro into your chest. 

“You’re so lucky I love you.” You whisper as you kiss the swordsman’s head and hold him into your breast. 

“Goodnight, moss head.” You chuckle to yourself. 

xx Mo

[batwritings]

Kinktober Day 4 - Deepthroat

More CoD! I really want to touch on some of the operators that don't get a lot of love so this piece involves Velikan. :) Enjoy!~

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

You’d been under Velikan’s command from the moment he took command of Building 21. You weren’t the freshest recruit amongst the Shadows, but you were new to him, which meant a near constant presence. Enough time had you worming your way closer to him, despite the terrifying facade he put on amongst the others in your company.

It started with you seeing the tells beneath that tinted visor. The things that irked him, the shifts in his body language and facial structure that you knew differed from his usual stern visage. So you worked around him, did what you could to make his job easier. It was small, but the little differences in how he treated you from the rest of the Shadows didn’t go unnoticed. To neither you, nor the rest of your company.

“What makes you so special huh?” The aggressive tone shook you as you turned, mess hall food in hand. The tray was quickly knocked away as you were backed into a corner, confused beyond belief. “Why’s the commander going so damn easy on you, huh newbie?!”

Now thankfully, compared to most of your company, you didn’t exactly reach the average height. It was easier than one would think for you to stoop down and make your escape from their harsh words and what would probably turn into violent behavior. You ran as quickly as your legs would take you into a random room. You didn’t even look at which it was, back against the polished wood as you tried to slow your racing heart.

A low huff caught your ears as you actually looked up and forward. Velikan was at his desk, filing paperwork, his least favorite task as you’d come to know. “C-Commander!” Your body shot up into attention, saluting him. You heard him sigh and roll his neck, a clear sign of you being told “at ease”.

You let your body relax and approached his desk. “Sorry for bothering you Velikan,” you said softly. “Seems the rest of the Shadows don’t exactly like me being your ‘favorite’. Whatever they’re on about, I promise I won’t let it end up here.” You huffed a tiny laugh and knocked on the desk for added humor.

Velikan’s hand never stopped writing, easily switching between Russian and English where necessary. You knew very little outside of your commander’s Russian-American heritage, but this was your first time witnessing his fluency. You yourself happened to share the same talent for languages, hence speaking up again.

“Need help with those at all Commander?” You asked, genuinely curious. “Or at least a break? Your hand’s gonna cramp up if you keep on with all these reports.”

Velikan stopped, tilting his masked head to eye you from his peripheral. He was testing you, trying to see if you were bluffing. Eventually, the man sighed heavily and dropped his pen, sitting back in his office chair. He rolled in back a bit and tapped the ground in front of him with his boot.

Your eyes widened a bit, but you couldn’t say you weren’t surprised. The two of you had crossed paths in the locker room before, you know what the scars upon scar laid across those beautiful muscles looked like, even from just a fleeting memory. And Velikan wasn’t an idiot; he saw you stare. He knew.

You obliged, against your better judgment. If Graves heard even a whisper about this, you both would be in for it. But if Velikan was anything, it was quiet; you trusted you’d be fine in his care. You watched with rapt attention as thick, gloved fingers undid your commander’s utility belt and undid the zipper on his tactical pants with a practiced swiftness.

You took over from there, palming him through his briefs. You watched his masked head loll back, already enjoying the attention as was evident by the already growing bulge beneath the fabric. You gently took his member from it’s confines, pupils dilating a bit. You weren’t exactly shocked by Velikan’s size, but it was something different seeing it up close.

Without hesitation, you licked a stripe up the shaft, humming softly at the slightly salty taste of his skin. You could hear your commander’s pleased hum, although it sounded far more like a growl that sent excitement straight between your legs. You rolled your tongue around the head, slipping it between your lips as you felt that same gloved hand come to rest on your head.

You let your jaw slacken, a nonverbal sign for him to do as he pleased with your throat. You didn’t miss the muffled, almost sadistic chuckle that came from Velikan as you felt your throat fill with his member. You nearly choked at first, but a few deep breaths through your nose had you humming in pleasure as the tip touched the back of your throat.

Velikan growled in pleasure again, hand threading through your hair. You feel him tug you off, gently at first, before thrusting up abruptly, his cock ramming the back of your throat. You purr softly, pleased with simply being stress relief for your commander that you’d grown so fond of. The pace starts slow, almost gentle before the man ramps up the speed.

It’s a lovely back and forth for a while. Velikan uses your mouth, and you try not to laugh at the way the visor of his mask fogs up from his heavy panting. You tried to slip your hand down your pants to touch yourself, but your hand is nudged away.

The rough leather of Velikan’s boot is pressed against the underside of your sex in just the right way to offer some kind of friction to you. You moan in relief and start to rock your hips against him eagerly. Time slowed down, and the both of you were lost in a haze of pleasure.

It was only when the hand in your hair tightened did you know to prepare. Your commander shot down your throat with a long growl, hips twitching as he seed spilled down your throat. Your own hips never stilled until you caught the briefest taste of him against the tip of your tongue. 

You cried out around his member, which he removed gently so as not to make you choke. The man couldn’t help but stare in slight awe of you now. Drool and cum mixing as they spilled down your chin, eyes blown wide with pleasure as you whimpered and whined out your orgasm. 

You sank down a bit as your body relaxed, feeling as though all the wind had been ripped from your chest. You didn’t fight back when Velikan lifted you off the ground from between his legs, and sat you on his lap. When had he zipped himself up and put away his cock? You didn’t know. All you knew was the calming sighs that you could make out from beneath his mask.

All in all, deep throating your commander wasn’t the worst way to end your day.

[lxdymoon0357]

Love confession under love potion by Minho. He's usually shy and a bit awkward when it comes to expressing love to oc but under love potion he confesses to her but is too overly romantic about it and it becomes too comical and silly embarrassing oc in front of everyone. I just want serious Minho turning into a love stricken fool around oc 😜

(I love minho, I love minho, I love minho, I love minho.....Sorry, malfunctions in brain, amirite? Lovely idea!!! Reader is said to have glasses..They're having a sneaky lipstick in their pocket....)

Lovesick idiot~ ♡

The chatter and bustling of the school hallways always annoyed Minho, but not today, it made him feel extremely confident and extremely nervous..He doesn't know where he got this confidence from though...

Maybe it might be the whiskey & Vodka mixed with his coffee earlier or weed candies he ate earlier...or the "special" brownies given to him by one of the students as a gift for helping him "relax" as Minho helped reach his potential...

He didn't realize what the student meant, until he realized a tad too late, he realize he was supposed to eat them at home...not at school..in the morning itself...

shit...

Minho sat on his seat, greeting the students or teachers who walked across his class or who greeted him first or entered the staff room for whatever reason they had...a bit woozy in his head already.... it was getting a bit too much and he was getting stupid thoughts so he decided to block them and lay his head in between his arms to silence himself down..

and it was working... the voice didn't matter much...and he greeted the people around or hummed and people took the hint...maybe he could even get something ordered by one of the staff members for him to get sobered up....and these thoughts calmed him down as he started to slowly zone out...until..

"..Minho-ssi?" A sweet voice suddenly called to him, as he shook his head...he had almost fallen asleep and was lolling in and out of sleep, when the voice brought him out like a soft rope pulling him back to consciousness...as Minho grumbled and hummed in acknowledgment...it was to tell them to take the hint and be quiet...but apparently, the person wasn't gonna listen...

"..Minho-ssi!!" the voice again called out, louder this time, making Minho groan as he fixed himself up under the desk a bit to look presentable and looked up, his head still woozy and it was clear he was still not sober...he was expecting maybe one of the annoying students or a annoying teacher...Not you...

"..Ah..yes..Y/N...How can I help mew-..you!" Minho asked, his voice a bit high-pitched and speech a bit slurred...it was clear he was still not sober after all the things he ingested.You stood there, scrolling through your laptop bag for something, your rimmed glasses perfectly upon your nose-bridge. Your eyes still holding the glare they always did. You always held a resting bitch face...it always intimidated everyone...and by everyone...I mean everyone...

"..I want to know where you kept my student's report?" You asked with your sharp voice, making Minho nod as he fixed his posture, his blazer, his glasses, his hair and everything as he looked at you and then at the open laptop which was showing a blank black screen...

"..Uhm, right there...Y/N-ssi.." Minho said pointing towards the wide table in front of his own as you nod sharply, placing your bag on the seat beside his own, you both shared a rather large and wide table..

You placed your bag and walked over to the place, your shoes clacking on the shiny floor as you walked to the table where the reports were, but unfortunately for you, they were on the furthest edge stuck to the wall and you had to lean over the wide table...

Of-course, this was something you didn't even acknowledge as like a minuscule thing in life, but for Minho it was something big....the way your clothing perfectly showed off your ass as you leaned over the table, checking over the multiple batches to find which belonged to our classes and which didn't...of-course all while Minho admired his so beloved office crush's ass...

Finally getting it, you picked the up the three batches of folded bundled sheets, and placed them closer to you and stood up straight, straightening your clothes, hoping nothing inappropriate happened, even thought it was a bit too late to think that when the image of your cute ass was plastered in Minho's mind...

You stood straight and cleared your throat which seemingly helped Minho get out of the trance; his face immediately blew into a scarlette...

As he looked away from you who were picking up the bundles, "..Thank you for the help Minho-ssi.." You said bowing a bit before walking out to your classroom...and suddenly he felt the effect of the vodka, weed candy and the brownies spike up immediately..

No idea why, but Minho stood up, slamming the laptop shut as he followed you with a grin, staring at you talking with a teacher, still for some reason his eyes fixated on your thighs and ass....you did feel him staring but passed it off as nothing as you pushed your glasses up your nose-bridge... walking in your loud class, already feeling a migraine coming..

As you yelled at the class to shut up, and made them stay quiet to do any pending work they had while you corrected their sheets... you heard a faint knock on the classroom door, the door was closed and obviously no one was paying attention to the tiny glass window it had where Minho was looking at you...

You stared back with your sharp eyes in confusion, he suddenly winked making your eyes slightly soften as you nod your head to ask what happened, Minho shook his head to nothing...

And like that he disappeared out of view...Of-course you sighed at his antics, and went back to doing your work, you looked up from your sheets to stare at your kids..one of the girls in front had received flowers from her crush just today..

Wow..how long had it been since you were in a relationship or received such romantic gifts like this?....Wait....This sin't the time for this..you're in the middle of class, checking important sheets, maybe you should stop thinking like a high-school student...

Your eyes took on more look at the small pink, white and blue bouquet, the girl placed on one end of her bench with her friends all teasing and congratulating for her, just as you looked down you felt a flash of dark blue from the corner of your eyes...

surely it wasn't anything...yeah...

If you could say that, when suddenly the door burst open and the bouquet from the girl's bouquet was swiped from the desk and presented in your face...when a similar voice screamed, "..Y/N, ILOVEYOU!PLEASEGOOUTWITHME!!!!"

And this made you feel heat rise up to your cheek along with a large amounts of embarrassment and the urge to kill and laugh...Oh god..Minho..

You gently pushed the bouquet from out of your eyes as they were blocking your view and looked at Minho holding the bouquet, his eyes closed, face red and a huge smile on his face..He was on one knee and the whole class was staring at the scene with a shocked face or trying not to laugh..you couldn't tell...

"..Hm!" You nodded your had as you held Minho's bicep and pulled him out pulling out a tiny, black tube looking thing, before entering the class back...and continued to teach your class as usual, your class took the sign as to not talk about the thing..

But of-course that wouldn't work..when Sir.Minho is having a very obvious kiss makr on his collar, cheek and lips..Guess Professor Y/N agreed...thankfully...maybe I can get the bouquet back...?

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