#i was feeling so giddy making these !! I love one piece so much!!

[flover4ever]

first date⋆.˚ ౨ৎ ˚ ˖࣪

a/n: i think abt matt and karen's date in that restaurant all the time. such a perfect scene! i wanted to capture that energy. i've always wanted to write a matt x librarian! oc fic. but times are tough and i can never commit to things lol. here's a snippet of what could have been. also, i am not from new hampshire. but oh my god, how pretty!!!!! im jealous.

warning: matt murdock x librarian! reader

matt didn't think his night could go any better. in front of him, he's got the most beautiful girl of his dreams. she told him that he is wearing a white cardigan and light blue dress, the fabric reaches the ground. she told him that the kids from the library tell her it reminds them of when the sky is clear of clouds, only sunny and blue.

matt takes a sip of his wine. "you got family in new york?"

"no," she shakes her head, taking a sip of her water (when he first asked her out, he wanted to take her to drinks. but marianne has sworn off drinking for life). "moved here three years ago."

matt's eyebrows raised. matt realized just how little he knew about her, despite how marianne was the common thread in nelson & murdock. "where are you from?"

"new hampshire." said y/n, a small smile peaking through her, like the first ray of sunshine. "it's beautiful there, so much color and life."

"god, it's hard to describe it," she said. matt loved how she described things, down to its smallest details. she talks in such a cadence akin to deep flowing rivers to morning birds. she can make her grocery list sound like a love poem. "it's hard to capture that beauty... sense of awe at the life around you, you know?"

matt smiled, so hard his cheeks started to hurt. he was sure he'd grow smile lines by the time he's forty if he keeps this up. maybe it was worth it. for y/n. "yeah," he muttered, almost lost in a trance.

"why'd you come to new york, then?" he's genuinely curious, his head titled to the side. "i mean, you make new hampshire seem like another planet next to new york."

she laughs, a giddy and joyous thing. "new hampshire's home. but new york, it never leaves you know? even with the grim and grit, there's something or someone that just makes you want to stay. when I interned here in hell's kitchen, the only thing that kept me moving was the kids. story times, their little faces, their constant questions. all of it. it gave me purpose."

matt hears her heart race, the kind that spoke to one's sense of passion. it was almost melodic, the rapid yet enchanting rhythm of muscle.

"nobody truly understands that they're the future," she said. "our future. i want to give something to them, something irreplaceable."

"like reading?"

"yeah," she sighs, like talking about the children of hell's kitchen filled her with such fervor, she couldn't contain it. "exactly."

"but working with the best lawyers in new york is a definitely a bonus," she adds, holding up her glass of water, the ice swirling against the glass.

y/n narrates what she's about to do, matt chuckles as he does the same, their glasses clinking.

"what about you?" she rested her head on her hand, her heartbeat starting to race as she met his eyes. though their gaze would never be able to meet, his dark gaze became her favorite shade of brown. it wasn't like hers, like earth's dirt in new hampshire's wilderness-- it was gold, shining like embers.

"me?" matt raised his eyebrows.

"yeah," she says, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, her vegan samosas long gone by now. "what made you want to be an attorney?"

"it was my father really," said matt. "he was a boxer. . . caught up with the wrong people. and when i was nine, he died. i tried giving him justice, but no luck. i guess i just don't want any nine year old matt's to feel the same way i did."

"like what?"

"helpless."

her gaze softened. "you're a good man, matt."

"i think you are good, too, marianne," says matt. "better than me."

and he meant it. for years when darning the suit of daredevil, he feels as if there is a twisted part of him taking over his soul. every punch felt one step closer to that. being matt murdock, keeps him grounded-- but that wouldn't be possible without foggy, or karen, or y/n.

she seems like she doesn't have to try. she is effortlessly good and pure. and maybe there is a twisted side to her that she hasn't shown to him. but he's hanging out the hope that this is who she truly is. a person who is kind and good at her core, even if she had to eat through the rotten parts of herself. maybe that's what makes her truly good.

[silversoulsociety]

Luffy’s Peak - Attained! GEAR FIVE

One Piece E1071

[radio-4-is-static]

WONDER BOY'S AKUMU CLUB - Yojiro Noda

[lady-ashfade]

Jacket obsession

Spider-Verse: You leave a piece of clothing behind with a yandere.

Characters: Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, 42!Miles Morales, Hobie Brown, Miguel O'Hara

Warnings: Obsession, stealing, yandere tendencies, just them going lovely over a piece of clothing.

Miles Morales:

Oh poor boy at first freaked out trying to get your attention before you enter the portal without your jacket.

“Wait! You’ll get colded.” He shouted as you entered the portal not hearing him.

After a few seconds after with worry in his chest he looked down at the clothing in hand and realized what he had. A piece of you that he could hold while he was away from you, and he hated being away from you, but the boys heart filled up with happiness.

The clothing smell just like you and if he threw it over a pillow it would be like cuddling with you. Boy is over the moon. And I mean like so giddy it’s embarrassingly cute.

He takes it every where with him, to the kitchen it’s in his hands, watching or playing games? It’s in his lap. He smells it constantly and gets really sad after a week when it doesn’t smell like you anymore.

However when you come back to his dimension and request for your jacket his heart breaks. Boy pouts security at the lose but he sees this as a way to get it to smell like you again and steal it after a while.

Overall if you leave anything he will take it and treasure it until you come back because now he has you for the time being.

He’s more of a clingy yandere but he still can’t help but obsessive over his darling.

“Maybe i could give you one of mine- Incase you lose yours again that is.”

Hobie Brown

Cocky little man notices it before you even want to leave and he knows you’ll forget it so he just lets you.

He loves when you leave things behind, thinks it might be a way of flirting. But when you do leave clothing he just feral about it.

Like he just can’t stop smelling it and just wants to hold it all day. He thinks of how cute you look in or how you smile and everything you do just flashes in his head.

Man is devilish to me. So he has a collection of things he steals from your bedroom when you’re out and he sneaks into your dimension. Clothes, shoes, necklaces or anything he can find.

You come back to him for it but he just holds it in his hands, above you and around the room when you try and take it way. “You mean this jacket?” Boy will have so much fun making you annoyed.

Hobie will leave his jacket on your room in hopes you’d wear it and think of him like he does you. He gets a grin when he thinks about it.

“If yah’ wanted to give me your jacket all yah’ had to do was say so.”

Gwen Stacy

You think she’s just chilling? Um no, she isn’t.

She loves you so much, her whole thing is like “I’ve lost to much.” And if she’s a yandere she can’t stop loving everything you do-Anyway.

She wears it and it can be oversized or maybe tight? She doesn’t care. She doesn’t take it off her body until it stops smelling like you or until she needs to get in her suit.

Gwen is maybe fighting with her self for many different reasons and they are:

“This is creepy.” “Oh cares? They smell so good.”

“They did this on purpose, so cute.” “No they just forgot it Gwen.”

Conflict with her own feelings all the time. But she never stops holding it close.

Gwen likes the idea of wearing your clothes to make it know she’s taken and that you’re hers. Can’t stop thinking of when you get to wear her clothes.

Yes, you guys aren’t “Dating” But your all hers.

“Don’t worry, I kept it so safe. By the way, could I borrow it again?”

Miguel O'Hara

Doesn’t care-Joking.

Miguel wouldn’t think about it at first and knows you just forget it and will come back for it later. But as time goes by, a hour, he can’t stopped looking at it for some reason.

He sneaks over like someone is watching him and picks it up. His mouth waters at the smell of you and he wouldn’t be able to let it go.

It might have rinkles on it from him carrying it so much. It’s his stress ball. You guys ever seen a kid carry around a blanket? Well that’s him.

He does feel wrong for obsessing over the piece of cloth but for different reasons then Gwen. He thinks he’s above something like this, doesn’t think it’s a big deal and he should forget it.

But when it puts it down a few seconds, it’s immediately in his hand again.

Yes, he does put it on a pillow and holds it close like he’s protecting you. He’s practically for when you get to be in his arms.

When you asked for it back he stands still for a minute. He feels sad and hates it because it’s just so stupid! Of course he gives you it back.

“I could give you one of mine…Only because that one doesn’t seem like it keeps you warm.”

42!Miles Morales

He’s a lot like Miguel in this situation a bit. And even if I see him as a big, big hard yandere he doesn’t think this is to big of a deal. Now don’t get me wrong he loves it, he just isn’t crazy as the rest of them.

Though, he does like to have it near him when he sleeps like have you close to him, or smell it whenever he can. Of course he has it in his lap when he’s gaming but the jacket never leaves his room.

Will buy the same one as you so you two can match and he can give you his. He thinks about you wearing something of his, like goes crazy just thinking of it.

You ask for it back? That’s cool, just try and get it from him. He loves to tease you to the ends of the earth and he would give it to you when you ask. But you’re just so cute when you get annoyed.

“If you wanted a jacket mami you could have asked for mine. Think mine would look cuter on you away.”

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi! Can I have a croissant alongside a banana bread with a side of vodka shot with Toto Wolff please?

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? check out the menu! i write for more than just formula one so hit me with it! thank you to his anon for the lovely order and i hope you love it! this was a pleasure to write!! <3

croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + banana bread ("i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name.") + vodka shot (rough sex) served by toto wolff (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/50s), horner!reader, daddy kink, daddy issues, yacht sex, references to lestappen, clothed male/naked woman

rumors were a dirty thing on the grid. they could hurt people and there were efforts to keep them from spreading too far. this was less of a rumor and more of an open secret that no one really acknowledged.

if they did, that meant having to know that chrisitan horner's daughter was sleeping with toto wolff.

you liked toto, you had for some time. there was something about him that drew you in. those large hands, that smile, how determined he was to his job. he was a dedicated man.

just like he was dedicated to making you feel good in all aspects.

it was summer break for formula one, and while your father was in england for the time being. you were in monaco under the guise of seeing friends. your father was hesitant to let you go away for so long, it was a long time away.

"be safe. not too much partying. i need you to call me or at least text me. and if any of those driver boys try to get too close, do not hesitate to hit, punch or whatever."

you nodded as you held you carry on bag close to your chest, "i know, daddy. don't worry!" it wasn't even like you had any interest in any of those drivers, older than you were like old man and younger than you were like annoying younger brothers.

plus, you were already taken.

not that your father knew that. when you hugged him before getting into the car to the airport, you felt giddy. you were constantly texting toto when you got on the phone. thankfully the plane ride wasn't too long and your loving boyfriend met you at the airport in nice.

you giggled and ran into the man's arms.

it was a beautiful sunny afternoon when toto took you out on the boat. but his eyes were on more than just the water as he got everything ready. the sight of you in a white two-piece swimsuit.

you giggled when he took you by the waist, the boat still at the dock. you curled into him and held onto the front of his white button up.

he said to you as he took you by the chin, "i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me."

you shook your head, "no, no. he thinks i'm with friends. i have to get verstappen to cover for me so my father will be less worried." you got on your tip-toes and kissed him on the lips.

"oh, so you told verstappen. i thought this was supposed to be a secret."

you tapped your lover's nose, "mutual agreement." you giggled, "if he tried to go to the press about us." you smiled brightly, "i have something ten times worse."

toto got closer to in your space and asked, "and what exactly what would that be?" curiosity got the best of him. usually he didn't get into the affairs of drivers, especially if they weren't working for him.

you shrugged, "remember that text message i got from him about that emergency, because he was stuck at that hotel near where we were?"

toto's hands rubbed your shoulders as he said, "yes. i remember that."

"yeah, he was stuck with leclerc." you smiled, "so, we have a mutual agreement to not spill the beans about the other." you leaned in to kiss toto on the lips, "my father may have a meltdown if he knew we were together. he'd burst a blood vessel if charles and max came out." but you said, "i'm happy for them." then kissed toto on the lips again.

the man wrapped his arms around you and held you close to him. he enjoyed the feeling of your lips against him. your body warmed from the sun against him.

you were barely clothed and he was still in a button up and pants. he placed a large hand on your ass and gave it a squeeze. he looked down at you and smiled, "you look very beautiful." he said to you.

"you're not too bad yourself. i thought about wearing that 'tacky' swimsuit i got online that one time just to rile you up." you giggled.

toto's lips were on your neck as he placed both hands on your ass. then gave the cheeks a squeeze, "i told you to not wear that."

it was a two piece swimsuit that was barely held together by strings. but the pattern on the cups and bottoms were of off-brand hot sauce bottles. toto had bought you so many nice swimsuits over your time together, so there was no need to wear it.

"but, why it shows how spicy i am." you winked.

he groaned and shook his head, "schatzi, please." he got you on the couch that was on the deck and had his hands on your hips. he leaned in and kissed you on the lips.

you two were in the semi-public, but it would be hard to see unless someone is right next to the boat. it only made it more erotic to you, the possibility of someone seeing.

you straddled his waist and rubbed your barely clothed pussy up against his lap which made the older man groan. he knew that this shouldn't be happening. it was bad enough he was wrapped around the fingers of a woman young enough to be his daughter, but on top that you were the daughter of one of his bigger rivals.

but the way you melted in his arms and rubbed against his cock made him feel otherwise, in all fairness, you were a legal adult who could make her own choices. even if your father was a little protective.

you kissed him square on the mouth and he took you by the hips. he rubbed his clothed cock up against you. you groaned a little bit and kissed him more.

"you're prettier when you're on top." he chuckled as he massaged your hips, "but you always know that you could end up underneath me at anytime. because you're a good girl, right? my good girl."

you nodded, feeling the heat in your cheeks. you rubbed up a little further and said, "of course, toto."

he reached and tapped your nose, "toto?" he tilted his head to the side, "there's another name you like to call me, no?"

you swallowed, "you're an insatiable old man."

he pressed himself further against you and replied, "i may be, schatzi. but i'm still your daddy."

you blushed further before you took off the swimsuit top and he groped at your breasts with his large hands. he groaned a little bit before he grabbed onto your hips then pushed down the bottoms off of you.

you were naked and working to get toto's cock out of his pants. you swallowed when you caught sight of it. you stroked it softly and he shuddered. all you had to say about his cock was that it was proportionate to his over six foot frame.

"i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name." he said.

"mmm, please." you whimpered.

he rubbed the back of your head and smiled at you as you gazed at his cock. you two were out in the open, but had a bit of privacy to continue your little affairs. you kissed him deeply as he seated you onto his cock.

his jaw tensed at the feeling of your slick pussy around his cock. you were a dream, he couldn't believe that horner's daughter was the woman of his dreams. but as he groped your soft flesh, that didn't matter. all he wanted was you, he wanted the pretty little thing that bounces on his cock with ease.

you whimpered and dug your fingers into the meat of his shoulders. you rolled your hips up and down his cock. you said, "shit, daddy! ah! please"

he hissed through his teeth when his cock nudged against some of the softest parts of you. he groaned and buried his face into your breasts as he moved against you.

the two of you moved in time with each other. you could feel his teeth against your breasts which only turned you on more. he felt so good, it was like a little addiction.

"daddy, ah!" you whimpered.

"you're so beautiful." he said, "when i saw you on the track, it took everything in my power not to lead you away from your father and fuck the daylights out of you."

you groaned, "c'mon daddy, don't talk about him right now. i need your cock more than anything." you whimpered as you continued to move up and down on his cock.

it felt so snug inside of you and the pace you were using was rough. but it excited you, it made you hot all over. your breasts bounced in front of his face, it was very hot.

"fuck, please. you are so fucking good, daddy. it's not fair. no one else has ever been able to fuck me the way you do." you whined. your sexual history was primarily made up of interactions with toto.

he had to taught you most of what you knew about sex, at least in a pleasurable sense. he was the first person to make you cum. you thought that orgasms were reserved for you and your toys. but toto proved you wrong.

"i need you daddy." you whimpered.

"you have me." he replied as he continued to kiss you. his kisses lingered on your collarbones as you rode him. it felt so good. he was a divine lover.

you kept up your pace and felt the pleasure course through your body. your pretty tits bounced with each movement. you looked so nice naked, he loved the sight of your body.

you fit him like a glove.

his kisses were sloppy as you dug your nails into his shoulders. the pleasure bounced in his head as he moved against you. his cock hitting all the right places.

"please, daddy. i only want you. i never want to fuck anyone else."

he grabbed you by the head and said, "good, because no one else will ever touch you."

you soon climaxed, your voice filled the open air. but toto pulled you into a searing kiss, his grip on you was tight as he bullied his cock into your poor bruised cunt. you'd be feeling it all by morning. he continued his movements against you. you panted wildly and felt the flash of heat through your body. you moaned, "please, daddy."

"i've got you, schatzi." he said then groaned.

you slowed down your pace and rested against your lover's chest. you could feel his quick pulse. you enjoyed the feeling of him inside of you. but it didn't take long before he started to thrust up into you again.

he groaned, "i need you more, schatzi." he gripped onto your hips tightly and moved up into you, "i only have a few weeks with you before you have to go back to your father. and i want to make sure i've touched all over you, and you don't forget my touch."

you moaned, you wouldn't mind going another round. or maybe another three rounds. after all, you needed your daddy. and you wanted to make sure you that you felt every inch of him in return.

when he groped your ass, you squirmed.

"please, daddy. i need you."

-

the end of the summer break spelled the dutch grand prix. hamilton and russell were sitting waiting for their time to get going. russell looked at his teammate and asked, "did you see wolff?"

"what's going on with him?"

russell stretched out on the couch and little, "saw him with horner's daughter during break. i passed by his boat and found her in next to nothing."

"ah, c'mon, now you're just spreading rumors!" hamilton got closer, "but i am curious to know what you apparently saw there, mate." rumors were a dirty thing on the grid, but sometimes the information was just too delicious. <3

[b00kdiary]

Could I request Azriel and Plus Size reader where they’re both new to the mate bond and she overheard Azriel and Rhys’ conversation about the “Cauldron being wrong.” She left before she was able to hear Azriel call himself a fool for even believing it for a second, knowing that he’s already kissing the ground his own mate walks on. She starts comparing herself to Elain and then starts lashing out, going to Rita’s every night and avoiding Azriel whenever she sees him.

Cauldron Blessed | Azriel

Azriel (ACOTAR) x Plus Size Reader

Warnings: Mature themes (18+), swearing, body-image issues, angst, and eventual smut.

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

'The Cauldron was wrong, so wrong.'

Those words played and replayed in my mind again and again, all day, every day, for the last week.

Wrong.

He said that the Cauldron was wrong- about us, about me.

Me, his mate- wrong.

It had been an accident, me overhearing them that night, a coincidence I had decided to come home early from my girl's night with Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie. Though with the Cauldron, there was no such thing as an accident, no such thing as coincidence.

I'd waded through the House of Wind, tipsy on wine and giggling softly to myself as I banged into the walls, thumping clumsily against the art pieces hanging and tripping over my own two feet. Giddy, I had been giddy, stumbling through the halls in search of him.

Azriel, my mate.

Only a few hours apart and I missed him, yearned for him, I felt the distance as if it spanned miles and the more I drank, the more I craved him. That's all I had been thinking of when I trekked through the empty halls, closer and closer to the lounge- just of my mate.

And that's when I heard it.

"The Cauldron works in mysterious ways," Rhysand's laugh drifted out to me in the corridor, and I came to an unsteady halt at the sound. "Feyre was my salvation; I didn't expect anything good to come to me Under the Mountain."

I smiled to myself, my hand coming to my mouth, shielding any sound that threatened to slip past- Az always teased that my lips loosened when I drank too much. Instead, I lean against the cold wall, warmth filling me as he gushed about my High Lady.

They were Cauldron blessed, that was clear to see.

"I think five hundred years of waiting for her was enough, brother," Cassian snorted, and I heard the faint sound of liquor pouring into a glass, wings rustling as one of the powerful males moved. "I know I never imagined my mate as a twenty-five-year-old human female, with a bite worse than mine."

I bit my lip as Cassian laughed, a loud, bellowing sound, so full of joy, so full of content, the mere memory of Nesta, human and utterly indomitable against him something that still brought him to his knees.

"The Cauldron must have a sense of humour," Rhysand teased, and I could practically envision Cassian rolling his eyes, a vulgar gesture thrown between the two males. "Connecting people in the most unexpected pairs, in the most unexpected ways."

"Like Elain and Lucien," Cass scoffs, loudly chugging back the remnant in his glass, "There's a pair I could never have foreseen, not in a thousand years."

"Proof that the Cauldron isn't always right," Azriel muses for the first time since I arrived, and my body almost croons at the sound- low and rough, moving over me as sure as if it were his hands. "She deserves better than any male friends with Tamlin, that's for sure."

She deserves better.

It was silly I knew, for the mere mention of her, the thought of her to make me feel nauseous, make my smile instantly fade, but I couldn't help it. It was hard for me to see a female as lovely as Elain Archeron and not feel inadequate by comparison.

Another who was blessed, so lovely that she had been gifted her seer abilities by the Cauldron itself as if her beauty and delicate demeanour weren't gift enough.

"Brave words, Az," Rhys whistled, and I had to force myself to blink away the picture-perfect image I had conjured of the middle Archerson sister, forcing myself to focus on their conversation instead. "Openly opposing the Cauldron."

"Brave or stupid?" Cassian counters tauntingly, and I knew he was drunk just from how loud his voice was, practically bouncing off the walls. "You think the Cauldron makes mistakes?"

"I know it does," Azriel challenges and it was that voice, that sure, quiet demeanour that I adored and desired so fiercely. I inch closer to the door, grinning at the idea of popping out and scaring them- but then he says it.

Says the thing that makes me stop dead in my tracks, makes my heart stop dead in my chest.

"Look at me and Y/N," Azriel sighs, and there's no joy, or adoration or yearning in his voice in memory of me, not like Rhys or Cass- no, there's dread. "The Cauldron made us mates... the Cauldron was wrong, so wrong."

There's a loud crack that echoes through the room, and it's that sound, and the feel of sharp debris against my palm, that pulls me from my memories. I blink through the tears, looking down at the crumbling marble sink, the corner pieces breaking off into my hands.

I sob through my teeth at the sight, small cuts leaking stark red blood down my fingers as I bring my hands to my chest. I can't see the looking- glass before me, not through the haze of tears, tears so strong it's as if I were made of them.

As if they had become a part of me.

It was all I had done the past week, cry and cry and cry- and avoid Azriel.

Every morning I skip training and breakfast, feigning fatigue or a full stomach, just so I wouldn't see him there. Each afternoon I'd get lost in the stacks and stacks of books in the library, so vast and endless that Azriel never stood a chance of finding me in the maze.

And at night I'd find solace wherever I could find a drink- Rita's, taverns, the Music Quarter, anywhere. Anywhere but at home, anywhere that I didn't have to see him.

I couldn't bear it, couldn't bear the sight of his face, even now the thought of his tilted smile, the beam of his soft hazel eyes, the touch of his scared hands and wild shadows, it made my whole body wrecked with sobs.

I couldn't bear any of it anymore- because none of it was real.

Every smile and touch, every kiss and moment where our bodies joined as one, where he confessed his love and devotion to me, it wasn't real. Azriel thought we were wrong, a mistake, a confusion, just wrong.

My hands shook as I wiped the tears from my cheeks, rougher than necessary, blood-smearing, but I was tired of tears, I was tired of crying, of feeling so unworthy. I was unworthy of him; he was beautiful inside and out and deserved so much better than me.

I sniffed as I lifted my gaze to the looking glass before me, and my heart hurt at the reflection, knowing that this was what Azriel saw, that this was why he knew the Cauldron was wrong. Every curve and roll and inch of flesh that I had, all of it, it was all wrong.

And I hated myself for it.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I take a step back and then another step, away from the reflection that taunted me, and mocked me, before forcing myself to look away. I swallowed against the dryness in my throat as I moved across the cold floor of my bathing suit, my body desperate for my bed.

And as I step over the door's threshold, and back into my old room in the House of Wind, I know it's not the same as when I had left it ten minutes ago.

He was here.

"Azriel," I gasped, halting at the sight of him- sat on the edge of my bed, his broad shoulders and powerful wings rising sharply at the sound of my voice, those hazel eyes meeting mine and filling with something honeyed and warm. "Wha- what are you doing here?"

He rises from the bed, elegant and still, his shadows dancing around him at the feel of my presence, the scent of my skin, and I shiver as he watches me, keen eyes gracing my stiff figure.

"Y/N," He sounds almost relieved as he says my name and my breath is caught in my lungs as I stay rooted to my spot, and he seems to sense my unease, as he doesn't move any closer to me. "You've been staying here for a week now; I missed you at home."

Home- the apartment we shared in town together, a cosy space that we had made our own.

Another thing I couldn't bear to face.

"I've been catching up with the girls," I say quietly, ripping my eyes from him and walking forward on numb legs. I tug at the hem of my nightshirt, his nightshirt I had stolen, feeling too bare before him and his eyes narrow at the movement. "It's just easier to sleep here when we have plans every day."

As spymaster it was Azriel's job to scrutinise, to observe and I felt every single part of that slot into place as he watched me now, watched as I moved toward the bed. I wasn't looking at him, I couldn't hold his stare- and he couldn't figure out why.

His shadows dance through the room, through the distance between us and I jolt, biting my lip when one brushes against my bare thigh- before scurrying back to Azriel in surprise. He inhales a sharp breath when his shadow whispers to him, telling him that something is wrong, I was wrong.

"I know you've been spending time with the girls," Azriel continues slowly, his voice tentative and soft as I move to the other side of the bed, furthest from where he stood. "I just feel like I haven't seen you at all... I miss you, sweetheart."

Sweetheart.

A sob threatened to rip from me at the name, so soft, so endearing on his lips and it took everything in me to not fall apart at that moment, to not crumble under the weight of it all. I shake my head, my back turned to him now and he watches as I tug back the duvet, my actions angry now.

"It's only been a week Azriel," I breathe through my clenched teeth, my tone so at odds with his and my body locking tighter at the sound of his impending footsteps. "Sometimes space can be good, it can be eye-opening, show us things we don't want to admit but know deep down."

My words hit him head-on, like a slap across the face- I don't need to see him to know it, I can tell just from the stillness in the room, the silence, so strong that even his shadows have withered.

I clench my eyes at the feeling, at the touch that strokes against my soul, him reaching out to me through the mating bond- and me slamming up every wall I have to keep him away.

"What does that mean?!"

I don't hear him until he's right behind me and when his large hand touches the small of my back, I jolt, stumbling into the bed to get away from it. I turn on shaking legs to face him, and I'm pressed into the mattress to keep the distance.

"What? Y/N-" His face pales, and I see the pain in his eyes, unlike anything I had ever witnessed from him before. It was raw, vulnerable as if five hundred years of existence couldn't hide the hurt, knowing that I had flinched from his touch, flinched from him.

A rejection- something he feared the most.

"Sweetheart, please, I don't understand," He shook his head, his beautiful face twisted into an agonised frown, and his voice trembled, weak, as weak as the hand that now reached for me, shaking as if scared to touch me. "Why won't you let me touch you? Why are you pulling away from me, why-"

He stops, and for a moment I think it's because of the tears steadily leaking down my face, the way my bottom lip trembles with the effort to hold myself together- but it's not. His nose flared, and the hazel in his eyes turned dark, narrowing down upon my hands.

"You're bleeding," He mumbles hoarsely and the pain in my chest triples when his scarred hands inch closer, my eyes fluttering shut the second he touches me, holding my palms in his and examining the small cuts. "What happened, sweetheart-"

"Don't! Don't- don't call me that, don't touch me," I croak out, my voice breaking and Azriel flinches at the cry in my voice, wings rustling when I yank my hands-free from his hold, as if his touch burned me. "Stop pretending, stop making me think you care, just-just stop."

"I don't understand, what do you mean pretending-" He pleads, his voice splintering, and I can see him thrumming with emotion, desperate to reach out to me, to hold me, but trying to respect what I had asked him. "I don't understand, help me understand what I did wrong-"

"I know how you feel about me, a-about us," I sob, my weak hands coming to my face, and I cry into them, so loud that nothing can muffle them, and I feel Azriel's' helplessness down the bond, still reaching for me, "It was cruel, to make me think-to make me think you loved me-"

"I do love you!" He snarls and my eyes snap open when I feel the familiar roughness of his hands against my wet cheeks, his grip unrelenting and needing as he draws me to him- and I don't have the strength to fight him. "Of course, I love you, why would you say that?"

His thumbs brush away the tears that won't stop leaking from my cheeks and somehow my fingers have found purchase in the material of his shirt, nails digging desperately, clutching him as tightly as he held me.

"You said it was wrong," I whisper, the words slurring in my throat, and I force my heavy eyes to his, force myself to look into those teary hazel eyes and confront him, with the burden I had been carrying alone this whole time. "You said that we were wrong, that the Cauldron was wrong."

His forehead creases, lines forming between the thick, dark brows as he peers down at me, and his hands don't release me, if anything they draw me closer.

And I see the moment realisation hits him, like ice-cold water seeping through his veins.

"I heard you talking to Rhys and Cass, you said we were proof," I gasp, feeling his shadows curl and wreath around my wrists and fingers, as if afraid to let go, as if trying to comfort me as I sniff. "You said we were proof that the Cauldron could be wrong, so wrong."

"I didn't mean you, Y/N, I would never mean you," He beseeches, his breath caressing my face, my lips and his eyes are so intense, so vibrant that I can't look away, "I didn't mean you, I meant me, I'm wrong!"

I suck in a harsh breath at his outburst and I feel it then- the self-deprecation, the vulnerability, the fear, it was all aimed at himself, it was all about him.

The silence stretches on as we stare at each other and my face must hold every ounce of my surprise and confusion, because he sighs, his forehead resting against mine. I see his wings sag behind him, as if defeated.

"I don't know how much you heard but I did not mean that the Cauldron was wrong to pair you with me," He mutters, his words unsteady, and my eyes flutter shut at his words, "I meant that the Cauldron was wrong to pair me with you- the Cauldron has blessed me but forsaken you."

"Azriel-" I gasped, and it was now my hand that lifted between us, my hand that cupped his stubbled cheek, forcing his eyes to mine. "That's not true, I'm not forsaken, I'm blessed, I'm Cauldron-blessed, Mother-blessed to have you-"

"Y/N you deserve the world, the sun and the moon and the stars," Azriel's voice breaks, a sob gurgling in his throat as he nestles against my palm, now wet with his tears. "I have spent five hundred years being unworthy of anything, and now that I have you, I will spend the next five hundred being unworthy of you."

He felt unworthy of me, he thought that he did not deserve me.

"Don't say that don't- you've given me the world and more," I shake my head, forcing every inch of surety and strength into my voice, "I love you, so much, so much that the thought of you thinking we were wrong, it killed me Az, because you're all I need."

He shakes his head against my hold, but his hands slip down my back, down my waist and to my hips and thighs, fingers digging into my flesh, holding onto my meat for leverage and pressing my soft body against his firm one for dear life.

"Not once did I ever think you were the problem, I thought it was me," His brow furrows deeper at my words, and I see the denial in his eyes, in his face, "I see a male who is beautiful inside and out, who is powerful and skilled, who has been a saviour to this Court in so many ways and I can't come close, I can't ever be equal to that Az."

"Y/N, no-" He growls, nails carving crescent moons into my flesh.

"I'm not a warrior like Nesta or a ruler like Feyre," I continue, and I open up the walls I erected to keep him out from my soul and mind, letting the mating bond flow freely again- to let him see all I had thought these few days. "I'm not beautiful like Elain... I'm not enough."

"You are everything," He hisses, and I can feel his overwhelming pain as sure as if it were my own as he graces over my feelings and thoughts- as he takes in every disgusting, horrific thing I had thought about myself, about my body. "You are everything and more to me, Y/N."

Power flashes through his eyes and then his head ducks toward me, capturing my lips in his.

Time seems to slow when his lips meet mine in a gentle collision, the kind of impact that steals the breath from my lungs, the kind I can't get enough of. Azriel grumbles at the taste of wine on my mouth, his tongue lapping at mine as if devouring the sweetness.

"Azriel," I sigh, like putty in his capable hands, and like always, he's skilled with how he handles my body, so easily turning us so my legs hit the mattress, my body weightless as he lifts me to sit on the edge.

"I have seen you navigate politics and arrogant High Lords in a way that has us all on our knees," He mutters against my lips, and I croon at the feel of his hands languishing up my thighs and hips, squeezing the flesh, his eyes dark with desire now.

His nose brushes against my cheek, so bare, as he kisses and trails his tongue along my jaw, moving down my neck and I can't do anything but moan softly as he lies me flat on my back, his powerful body towering over me, covering me wholly.

"I have seen you cut down soldiers triple your size as if they were little more than weeds in a field," His canines scrape against the racing pule-point at my neck and my eyes flutter, neck exposing for him and back arching when his hand cups my breast over my shirt.

He settles between my thighs, and he groans when his hard length brushes my wet core, the smell of arousal heavy in the air, the kind of stimulation that made us both dizzy with need. I arch my hips up to meet him, needing to feel something, anything from him.

"And I have seen males and females alike marvel at your beauty, at your body, desiring to see you without a scrap of clothing on," Azriel's voice turns furious, dark, as if the mere thought of someone else seeing me naked made him violent, honed to kill.

"Az, please," I mewl, fingers clawing at his back, feeling the muscles ripple under my touch, his shadows in a frenzy, caressing and dancing and wreathing around my body, feeding off every moan that escaped me. "I need you Az, please."

He presses long, wet kisses against my jugular and I sigh in relief when I feel his body shift, hips lifting and the sound of a belt clinking as he unhooks his slacks, freeing his hard length from within.

"I love you, sweetheart," His head lifts, face tight with sincerity and I can feel the thumping of his heart against mine, those intense eyes capturing me wholly. "I love all of you, I love all that you are-"

"Body," His fingers hook into my underwear, and I gasp as he tugs the wet material to the side, fingers brushing my clit.

"Mind," Our sounds meld as he rubs the tip of his cock against me, parting my folds, spreading my arousal from my entrance to my clit, and his breathing deepens as I whimper.

"And soul." He pushes into my entrance, stretching me just from the tip and automatically, my thighs clamp around his hips and my back arches at the feeling of him.

"I love you, Y/N," He pushes in until his long, thick length hits my cervix and my cunt is stretched thoroughly, throbbing around him. I trace my hands up his arms, nails scratching along every muscle, every strong, lean plane of him.

"I love you too, Azriel," I whisper back, and when my eyes flutter open, I see him above me and I know that nothing else, no one else could feel this right.

He doesn't move, merely staring down at me, his eyes burning like embers- feeling the thought as intensely as I did.

The Cauldron was right, so right.

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

@mis-lil-red @hyemishii @assaultsofthought @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @loveareum @infintyfandoms @sarawritestories @eerievixen

Comment to be added to the tag-list >3

[satoruhour]

UNDERCUT

a/n: based off a tweet that said gojo would purr if u touched his undercut. listened to peace piece while writing ✶

there is something about lying on sheets that match gojo satoru’s hair, while the gentle breeze of the autumn morning filters through your blinds. there are both birds singing in the trees and butterflies in your stomach from merely having your lover close to you; it’s second nature to wake up and crave his warmth.

undercut’s getting long. we’d have to trim it soon.

and when your silence and thoughts are interrupted by someone’s morning groans and hums from the glare of the tokyo sky, a smile naturally graces your lips. even now, your hand hasn’t stopped brushing through his locks.

“good morning, my love,” the expression he gives matches yours exactly: his chest immediately feels tight when he sees you, morning breath and all, he gets giddy and tingly and wants to kiss you all over. you’re wondering why he hasn’t done it yet.

slow like the morning, slow like these words, satoru props himself up with his elbows, easily reaching for your face before you both sink into a gentle, slow kiss. it’s so sweet that you’re sure it could turn (faux) insult into ardour and you don’t even notice you need air until the both of you break away and giggle softly at your flushed faces. 

“your undercut is growing fast, y’know. we’d have to cut it soon,” the tips of your fingers run over the short strands of hair subconsciously, mouth gaping open a little when satoru closes his eyes and hums at the feeling.

“do it again.”

you laugh, “okay,” and you do, softly guiding your hands over the fuzzy hairs and gaining content sighs and soft moans from the man. gojo has to hide in your stomach, needing to be closer to you as you continue your hypnotising gesture.

“like it when your hair’s touched, huh?” the other hums yet again.

“only when my baby’s doing it.” there’s a ghost of a smile in your stomach, possibly from hearing the flutters of the butterflies in your tummy.

his embrace tightens around you when he sits up, towering over you now as the sky turns dark for a morning shower. fickle-minded weather, satoru would say, click his tongue and shake his head and you grin harder imagining it; your lovers asks why.

“nothing, just thinking.”

“of me? you better be, darling,” gojo thumbs your waist under the shirt you’re wearing, sleep still evident in his voice in the way he slurs his words — it could also be that he’s terribly, deeply in love with you and is simply high off of your presence.

and if that wasn’t the case before, it is now when he leans in again for a rougher kiss, moaning into your mouth as you continue to stroke his undercut. he can taste the sun on your mouth and the imminent rain to come all on you.

“i love you like how poets write,” satoru whispers against your lips in between kisses, and he runs hot, the back of his neck heating up from how much he adores you; it almost burns like flames licking at paper. “how the rain chases the sun.”

gojo tears a little because how the fuck would he have gotten this much love under the home of one of the most powerful clans? essentially nothing — and now he has the closest resemblance of a deity in his arms who knows exactly how many spoons of sugar he likes in his tea and how kikufuku is made from one of his rambles.

“you’re okay, i got you.” you mumble, fingers prepared at his eyes (you heard him sniffle). “i love you too.” 

gojo’s heart is full when you reply to his confession, kissing you again (favourite thing in the world) and stifling smiles as the rain makes its first fall in the serenity of your room. he thinks of declaring his love, but is certain his love would overflow later at breakfast, at reading hour, at movie night.

satoru merely settles for calling you his sweet, sweet girl in between saccharine pecks and making sure he loves you louder than that morning downfall and every other downpour that’s sure to come.

if you know me i think you’ll know i have a problem with this gojo obsession

[cntloup]

simon pays you a visit while he’s in town

prostitute!reader

no smut🫣 just giddy and giggly, butterflies all over me as i think about how he'd take care of you after rocking your world🥹😩

he's heard of you from his mates. how you're the best girl in town.

and the thought seemed intriguing. so he let himself indulge in it on a rare occasion one friday evening when he returned from a deployment, weary and exhausted.

the way he holds you melts your heart as you come down from the peak of pleasure after he fucks the shit out of you.

"you ok, love?" he checks up on you one last time, his gorgeous eyes locked unto yours, his thumb lightly caressing your cheek as he awaits your answer.

you pant heavily as you gaze at him through glossy eyes, lost in a haze as an afterglow adorns your already lovely features.

"yeah." you reply, voice breathy and throat hoarse from all the noises of sheer pleasure which you've never experienced before.

before him, you only made fake noises on most occasions, only pre-practiced moans and whimpers to keep the customers happy.

he kisses your lips so sweetly, so lovingly lingering for a moment there as he wipes away the stray tears that left your eyes.

he goes to clean you up with a warm cloth, "it's ok. i've got it." you say, trying to take the cloth from his hand, you're used to doing this part alone.

"please... let me." he says, gently pushing your shoulder back so you're lying down and he softly rubs the cloth over your sensitive skin.

then, he leaves and returns moments later with some snacks, "you really didn't have to." you say, slowly getting up and resting your back against the headboard, your body aching, but there's something sweet about it.

maybe it's just him. he makes the ache between your legs, the pain spread out across your body seem sweet and loving.

"please. you need to eat." he says as he hands you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a bag of chips and a coke, "sorry. don't really have anything since i'm gone most of the time." he apologizes, "it's ok. thank you so much." you respond, feeling a tingle behind your eyes. no one has ever taken care of you like this before.

"bye, simon." you say, waving as your gaze lingers on him one last time and you turn to leave, not before leaving a piece of paper with your number on it on his pillow, looking forward to his next visit.

[mochinomnoms]

How would ptm jade react if Yuu told him about marine mushrooms?

I only know what wikipedia knows about marine mushrooms...unfortunately for yuu mind reading doesn't give them sudden infinite knowledge!

“You know, with as much as you...like mushrooms and stuff, I'm surprised you haven't mentioned anything about marine fungi.”

You felt a chill run down your spine and Jade's bi-colored eyes on you.

“Pardon?” Does my darling also love fungi? How could I have not known this?

You shifted in your seat, staring down at your notebook as you doodles between the margins. A small button mushroom that you'd absentmindedly drawn minded you of Jade.

And you just happened to be doing research with him for your group project in the library this day.

“Sorry, I just was thinking about it, and it's just surprising to me that you never had, like an aquarium type terrarium or something with them.”

You let out a nervous laugh, after all, it was just you two by yourselves. Riddle and Yev were busy with their dorms due to the Spelldrive Tournament, and your dorm still didn't technically qualify, since all your freshmen were officially in other dorms.

Such a wonderful laugh, I'd like to hear it more...

“Well, to my knowledge, they don't exist.” Jade leaned in, his eyes wide and full of excitement. “By chance, do such mushrooms exist in your world?”

Please tell me more! Tell me lies for all I care, so I may hear your voice...though you wouldn't lie about such things, would you?

You perked up. It was rare that you knew something Jade, or anyone at NRC, had no clue about. It probably wasn't intentional, but the way people would look at you when you had no clue about something make you feel dumb, even though you logically had no way of knowing even the most basic things of this world.

It was kinda nice to be the one to share knowledge with another person.

“Well, I don't know a lot, but they mostly exist in marine environments. I think a few hundred?” You leaned in closer, moving your notebook towards Jade as you started drawing again.

“I can't remember their names very well, but I've always been a more visual person anyways.” You drew a piece of driftwood, a snail, and a rock covered in lichen.

“This one grows in mangroves, usually on the places. But this one grows around the shell of a snail, who eats it. And sometimes lichen will grow with fungi, but I don't know a whole lot about them.”

You paused, pursing your lips in disappointment.

“Sorry, I don't know enough to tell you about them, I know how much you...”

Your words trailed off as you looked back up at Jade, who was resting his check against his palm. He was staring at you with faint smile, and soft, half lidded eyes and pink cheeks.

So beautiful...

Cheeks and chest going hot, you stared back, opening and closing your mouth as you tried to figure out how to respond.

“Uh, Jade, you're, uh, staring...”

Jade stiffened, straightening up and covering his mouth in embarrassment.

“My apologies. I was just....enraptured by your descriptions.” And you. “I don't mind that you aren't familiar, but I would like to heard more from you about marine fungi. Perhaps you can tell me all about your world's plant life? It never occurred to me that your world would evolve differently, but saying that now, it seems obvious.”

He smiled at you again, his teeth showing a bit more as he excitedly leaned in.

“You struggle in musicology, yes? Perhaps in exchange for your knowledge, I can help you with practice?”

Please say yes!

You paused. Various suggestive scenarios that seem more apt for a risqué site or story flashed through Jade's mind in giddy anticipation.

You know better. You know what Jade's hoping for. You shouldn't string him along, you're going to get embarrassed. You're going to get uncomfortable, you're...

Another daydream, one of you two curled over a book, as you leaned into Jade's side while his arm pulled you closer, invaded your mind like a parasite in your brain. He had a tender smile as you laughed at something he said, your free hand reached up to cradle his cheek.

Maybe parasite is a harsh word. When the thoughts Jade had were so sweet and soft, it almost made you want to give in.

Almost.

“It's okay, I'm just a choir member, so there's not much for me to improve on.” You could hear your more logical voice sigh in the back of your mind. “But I'm happy to share...if you help me figure out if the mushrooms growing behind Ramshackle are edible.”

I'm weak…

Jade blinked, processing what you said.

Really? “Really?” Even Jade seemed like he was anticipating your rejection.

“Yeah, why not.” You shrugged, Jade's internal excitement flooding into your subconscious and influencing your own emotions. “Means less money to spend on food, and I'm sure you know plenty of yummy recipes we can use if they do end up good!”

Jade rarely smiled, at least not genuine, bare-teethed smiles. Despite the sharpness of them, you weren't put off by them, or him, at all.

“I would be honored.”

[yunhoszn]

horses are still overrated

pairing jeong yunho x f!reader word count 2k genres fluff﹒smut warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, established relationship, mentions of voyeurism, dirty talk, marking-ish, mutual masturbation, kissing, slight cum eating shhhhh don’t say anything, pet names: baby, babe, princess

summary new relationships always have room for experimenting, and well, you and yunho are no exception.

more ok so i tried doing these in ask format but i didn’t like it so we’re back to our regularly scheduled programming with a little update :P anyway,, this was for this request! it’s meant to be an extension of save a horse, ride a cowboy but can totally be read as a standalone! i kinda strayed from the initial req, but i hope this is still good… it’s still yunho day so <3 ALSO @bro-atz thank u for betaing my love i appreciate u so big!! pls reblog if u enjoyed!

@atzhouse

The few weeks that have passed since you and Yunho have confessed to each other have been nothing short of blissful. 

He makes you feel like you’re soaring, ensuring that your happiness is the top priority. He embraces you in a way that’s not only physical, but emotional too. Like his feelings for you are their own special hug of warmth that envelopes you when you need it most. You could never get tired of him, could never return to your life back home like this summer never happened. 

Because in all honesty, this summer was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to you. 

You have a small smile on your face as you reminisce about the wonderful time you’ve spent here so far, leaning back into the bench on the farmhouse porch. Initially, you were sitting here to openly gawk after Yunho as he rounded up the cattle, but now you were too giddy to pay attention to that. You don’t notice him walking towards you directly, Yeoreum tailing behind him. 

“What’s got you so cheesy today?” 

You blink at his question, feeling a bit bashful. You’ll never get used to this view. “I was just thinking about us, and how happy you make me.”

“That’s cute,” he mirrors your expression, one hand on the back of the bench to hold his weight and the other coming up to cup your jaw, lips pecking yours gently. “Ready for dinner?”

“I have a confession to make,” you start as you’re washing the dishes after dinner. 

“What’s up?” Yunho asks you from the other side of the kitchen, putting away the leftovers. He shuts the refrigerator and leans against it, arms crossed over his chest. You swallow thickly. 

“I’ve just had this on my chest for so long and I need to get it off before I explode,” you ramble, avoiding his eyes as you scrub a plate. “Promise you won’t judge?”

“I promise,” he chuckles, and you can hear his footsteps as he gets closer. “I won’t judge you.”

Your sigh comes out as more of a shudder, Yunho’s arms wrapping around your middle and his chin resting on your shoulder. The new proximity makes you ten times more nervous to say your piece, your heart beating erratically behind your rib cage. This is fine. This is great actually. (No it’s not!)

“Do— um— do you remember the day before Seojun and I broke up?” Your hands are trembling slightly. 

“When you gave Yeoreum a bath, right?” He nods, the movement bothering you slightly because it has his chin digging into your shoulder uncomfortably. “What about it?”

”So…” You have to pause the dishes, your hands clamming up so much that you think the handle of your sponge will fly out of your grasp. “That night, when my lightbulb went out, I actually went out to go grab you. But— uh— I saw something… else… instead…”

Your eyes squeeze shut, entirely too mortified to even think about what his reaction could be. It’s been a minute since the ordeal played out, so really you didn’t have to say anything. Part of you felt like you couldn’t continue this relationship in good conscience without being totally honest, though. 

Strong hands wrap gently around your wrists, turning you around to face him. He tsks, “Open your eyes, princess.”

His eyes are soft, no hint of disappointment or disgust on his features as he stares back at you. His lips curl into a smug smile after a couple seconds, cupping your jaw and caressing your cheek with his thumb. You blink at him, a little confused by the shift in atmosphere, but not complaining. 

“You’re not—?” 

“You watched me fuck my fist, is that right?” Yunho asks so bluntly, so vulgarly. “Tell me, what did you do after that?”

It’s easy to divert your gaze again, focusing on how interesting the material of his button up suddenly is. It’s one thing to admit that you stood there and watched for a bit, it’s another to admit you stuffed yourself with your own fingers not even fifteen minutes later. But you think he already knows that, based on your behavior and some good ol’ context clues. 

“I… I touched myself,” you whimper, ashamed of how you’re getting turned on. The worst part is the fact that he’s enjoying this. He’s enjoying the way he has you folding for him so quickly. “To the thought of you…”

Yunho’s grip on your chin tightens and his eyes flutter shut with a groan. “Fuck, baby, that’s so hot…”

You weren’t sure how this would go, and a piece of you genuinely thought he might even end things with you. Any other person would think you were sick and perverted, but not him. It makes you feel a lot better and a lot more secure in your relationship. 

Your tongue pokes out of the corner of your mouth, grazing the pad of his thumb. He hisses, cursing under his breath, letting you wrap your lips around and suck the finger. Yunho stares with not a single coherent thought behind his eyes. He’s losing his composure, pressing his thumb down on your tongue. 

“Do you think you can tell me? How exactly did you touch yourself?” He purses his lips, his free hand slipping into the opening of your overalls, dragging his finger along the exposed skin of your waist. You shake your head with a whine.

”Yun… That’s embarrassing…” 

He pulls his hand out of your overalls, hooking the digit into your belt loop and yanking you closer. His mouth is dangerously near your own, lips brushing yours when he speaks. “I wanna know. Need to picture my pretty princess fucking herself desperately ‘cause her fingers aren’t enough to get her off.”

Your legs feel like jelly, your cunt clenching around nothing just by his words alone. Yunho had always done such a good job at being the sweet and doting partner everyone wanted. He was attentive, praised you like you were a living, breathing goddess. But this dirty side of him is different. And you like it a lot more than you should.

“O-Okay…” You swallow thickly, and suddenly he’s spinning you so his chest is to your back. He urges you towards the bedroom, attaching his lips to your neck and sucking the supple skin gently, tenderly.

”Go on,” he says between kisses, still pushing you until you’re standing in the middle of his room. Your eyes already feel heavy and you haven’t done anything yet. “Tell me.”

”I— um— I thought about your hands and how big they are,” your tone is shaky, and you hope you don’t sound stupid. “Thought about how good it would feel to have them all over me. I pictured that it was your fingers inside of me. Imagined your cock, and how big it is.”

“Is that so? I’m just not getting the visual, babe. I think I need you to show me.” He hums, a hint of amusement in his voice. As if this couldn’t get more embarrassing, now he wants you to finger yourself in front of him? You’re about to protest, but he’s pressing your lower back to the mattress and talking against the corner of your mouth again, teasing you because he knows he can. “If you’re good for me, I’ll fuck you so well, you won’t be able to forget the shape of my cock.”

You nod with a whimper, hopping onto the bed and scooting all the way up to the pillows. Your hands are wobbly as you undress yourself, unbuckling your overalls and kicking them off your feet. Of course you chose the worst day to dress the part. Yunho sits at the edge, watching you with an unreadable expression. 

When you’re in nothing but your top and panties, he clears his throat, leaning back onto his palms. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Move your underwear to the side for me, princess. Let me see your pretty pussy.”

It’s almost impossible to hold back a moan, following his instructions. You glide your middle finger through your folds, showcasing how you’re practically dripping for him in the amount of time it’s taken you to get from the kitchen to here. He exhales through his nose, legs spreading to give you a glimpse of an uncomfortable looking bulge in his pants. 

You sigh deeply at the sight, circling your finger around your clit slowly. The thought of being the cause behind it, of getting Yunho so hot and bothered, drives you crazy and has you curling your toes. 

“Just like that,” he encourages, tossing his denim button up to the floor. He palms over his erection, tilting his head slightly. “Can you do some more for me?”

“Mhm,” is all you can manage to force out, doing what he asked. You shove your ring and middle fingers inside of yourself, finally releasing a moan at the intrusion. You keep pressure on your clit with the heel of your palm. There’s silence between you save for the occasional whine.

Yunho shivers, shimmying out of his pants so he can stroke himself freely. You gawk at him with bated breath, biting your lip as your fingers pick up their pace. There’s a knot that settles in the pit of your stomach, tightening and tightening in preparation for that special moment. 

The view of him spread out in front of you, fucking up into his hand with hooded eyes trained on your own playing with your cunt, is too much. He’s wearing that same godforsaken white tank top as he was the night you saw him, the muscles in his forearm and bicep flexing with each twist of his wrist, each pump of his cock. 

You feel like you’re drooling, ogling at him like he was a piece of meat. But you couldn’t help it. Yunho was the most attractive man you’d ever laid eyes on. The longer you stare, the further you fall. That’s a conclusion you’ve come to a little too late. 

“‘M close, Yun,” you moan, arching your back off of the pillows, head almost clunking against the headboard. “Wanna cum with you.”

“I’m almost there, too, baby,” he grunts, teeth gritted as he runs his thumb over his slit. That has a loud whine spilling from your lips, your feet digging into the mattress. You don’t know how much longer you can last. 

Your fingers try to reach that spongy, sensitive spot deep in your cunt, but you can’t. It seems that only Yunho’s long, thick fingers could accomplish that feat. No wonder you were so obsessed with his hands.

You opt for using the fingers of your free hand to swipe quickly at your clit while the others curl and thrust into you, inching you toward that steep cliff that has stars decorating your vision. Judging by the volume of his sounds getting higher and higher, you can tell Yunho’s right there with you. 

One particular absentminded curse from him has your brain short circuiting, that promise of release washing over you almost violently. Your body aches and quivers, orgasming harder than you ever had just with your own hand. (You’d like to think the presence of a certain cowboy had everything to do with it.)

He groans and follows behind shortly after, painting his hand in milky white. The two of you try to catch your breaths, laying there for a couple moments to recuperate. After a while, Yunho leans over to kiss you gently, squeezing your cheeks with his cum covered hand. You scrunch your nose. 

“You’re getting it on my face!”

“That was the goal,” he laughs, pressing another sweet kiss to your lips. You roll your eyes, licking away whatever was near your mouth. He groans again. “Fuck, are you trying to kill me? Purposely?”

“Maybe,” you shrug. “I remember being told you’d fuck me if I did good for you. Where’s my reward?”

“Trust me, I didn’t forget.”

© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 3

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2

Chrissy Cunningham just slipped a note into someone’s locker. Robin doesn’t know whose, but it’s not Steve Harrington’s. She knows, because she’s had the absolute blessing of having him as her locker neighbor all year. And based on how often she’s seen Chrissy loitering in front of it with him, the gossip mill is right about their budding relationship.

Except Chrissy just slipped a note into someone else’s locker.

Robin watches her walk away, stomach curdling at Harrington’s name branded on her back. He might as well have raised a leg and pissed on her.

The hallway is largely vacant, everyone in their last periods of the day. Robin had been on her way to Pre-Calc after a quick stop at the restroom, but she’s scrapping that idea now: there’s a mystery afoot.

Robin hunches over the drinking fountain at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. She pushes the button but makes sure her mouth is well out of the stream of contaminated water. She’s not willing to risk botulism, not even for Chrissy.

The footsteps walk by without a pause, so she stands up, wiping the bit of splash-backed water off her cheek as she waits. After a few more false starts, and the clock ticking down to the end of the day, she’s almost ready to give it up as a bad job.

But then someone else starts stomping down the hall. She watches out of the corner of her eye, once again bent over the fountain, as Eddie Munson spins the dial on the locker and pulls it open. He immediately plucks an envelope out, pulls the tab open, and retrieves a pale-blue piece of paper.

Robin’s thumb slips on the button for the water–the abrupt absence of sound must tip him off because he turns to her, a scowl already on his face as he asks, “what are you looking at?” as he clutches the note tightly to his chest.

It’s too late. She’d already seen him smile down at it, blushing and twirling one of his curls around his fingers.

It sinks into her stomach until she’s sick, a pit to nurture and grow in the acid of her intestines. She can almost feel them writhing as Eddie’s scowl deepens into a glare the longer her silence goes on.

“Nothing,” she says, averting her eyes to bend down and pretend to tie her shoe.

Eddie huffs, and she listens to him stomp down the hall, as something wet and embarrassing begins pooling in her eyes.

She spends the rest of class hiding in the bathroom trying to get her shit together by brute force.

It doesn’t work; it never does.

***

After the random band girl had creeped on him in the halls, Eddie stuffed the letter into the pocket of his vest, half-read. The anticipation builds through the rest of the period and all the way home.

In the comfort of his bedroom he reopens the envelope and peers inside, giddy at the thought of reading the rest of the letter, this time a response to his own words. 

Should he light a candle? Dim the lights? Eddie hasn’t seen a romance movie in a long time, but this feels like the sort of moment to recreate a scene from one. He’s getting love letters. Plural. Him. Eddie of the Munson doctrine.

He doesn’t even own any candles.

       Eddie – 

       I’m not trying to bully you. I do actually really like you, and I wish I was brave enough to tell you. Brave like you. It doesn’t seem like you’re afraid of anything.

       It’s ok if you don’t know how to respond, I’m just glad you did at all. I read it at least ten times and keep it in my nightstand drawer.

       Sorry, that might be too much.

       Yours, Always,

       Your Secret Admirer

       P.S. You’re always the best part of my day. I’m just glad I can read it at all. I’ve seen your penmanship, and I was a little worried. :)

Eddie brushes his fingers against the sign-off, the pen such a light touch that he can barely feel the grooves in the paper beneath that immaculate ink.

“Yours, always,” he says, quietly in the privacy of his bedroom.

But, he’s not alone in this shoebox, so Uncle Wayne’s voice calls a too-loud, “what?” from where he’s probably still in his recliner, camped out in the living room.

���Mind your business, old man!” Eddie calls back, already lost in the land of daydreams by the time Wayne’s laugh travels back through the door he’d forgotten to close.

Wayne’s always been a good secret keeper, but this one’s too big to share. It feels weighty somehow, like it’s an overfilled water-balloon and telling Wayne, or Jeff, or anyone might fill it up to bursting.

He doesn’t want to pop this fragile thing, not when he doesn’t even have a face or a name.

He wants to know what her name sounds like on his tongue, the way her mouth purses as she carefully writes each of these little words. He wants to know what her skin feels like beneath his careful fingers.

He wants.

But, a Munson’s a Munson, and they can’t always get what they want, so he presses his pen to the paper and settles for what he can have. Not a name, maybe. Not yet, but some questions still deserve an answer, right?

*** 

“I can’t believe we didn’t think of setting a drop-off location,” Steve says, biting his nails the way his mom has always hated. He spits the bit of nail out onto the floor. Chrissy gives him a disgusted look. “What? I’m nervous!”

Nose still wrinkled, Chrissy mutters, “that’s no excuse to be a pig,” barely loud enough for him to hear.

Steve stuffs his hands beneath his armpits, scowling down at the linoleum as they make the increasingly familiar trek to the library. Before the past couple weeks, Steve could count the number of times he’d been in here on one hand, and every single one of them was because of Nancy.

Now, it feels like he and Chrissy are always camping out at one of the tables, crouching over notepads and whispering even if the library’s empty. Steve might not be the smartest guy around, but he’s not stupid; if anyone finds out about this, he’ll be lucky to make it out of town before someone kills him.

“Calm down,” Chrissy says, holding the door open for him. He steps past her, hands still crossed over his chest in what’s starting to feel increasingly like a self-soothing hug.

Chrissy must think the same because she wraps her tiny arm around his waist and leads him toward a familiar bookshelf. “He probably left it in the same place as last time.”

The word “probably” isn’t bringing him much comfort, but Chrissy doesn’t give him any more time to catastrophize before she’s pulling that same useless encyclopedia off the shelf and flipping it open. And there, tucked cozily into its pages, is another note in Eddie’s scrawl.

Steve smiles down at it before remembering their location. “You didn’t even check for witnesses,” Steve hisses.

He peers over her shoulder, eying the lone student in the research section who’s bent over a heavy tome, paying them no mind. He snaps out of it when Chrissy slaps the letter against his chest before tucking it into the pocket of Steve’s varsity jacket. She’s taken to wearing it almost religiously, even as all the other cheerleaders tease her mercilessly for it.

“Calm down,” she says, already striding away, off toward their usual table as Steve rushes to catch up. “If anyone sees, they’ll just think I’m his secret admirer.”

Logically, he knows that. But some part of him feels like everyone will take one look at his face and just know. And no matter how hard he tries, it’s not a feeling that’s easy to shake.

“Thanks, Chris,” he mumbles, bumping their shoulders together. She stumbles from the unexpected weight, but before Steve can help steady her, she’s bumping back into him with a happy laugh.

No matter how this all goes down, he can’t regret it, not when it brought the revelation that is Chrissy Cunningham into his life.

Settled into their usual chairs squeezed tightly together, she opens the letter and slides it closer to him. Steve’s eyes devour each word as she sits idly by, waiting for his response.

         Secret Admirer,

         Oh, how your words wound me! My penmanship is immaculate, I’ll have you know. But it doesn’t seem fair that you know enough about me to recognize my handwriting, and I can’t say the same.

         I understand if you don’t want to tell me your name, but what do you like to do for fun? What’s your favorite color? What do you dream about?

         Can you give me anything? You call me brave but sending me these letters is the bravest thing I can think of, and every day I get one of your letters is the best day I’ve ever had.

         Sincerely,

         Eddie

         P.S. I hope I dream of you tonight.

Steve doesn’t realize he’s sighing wistfully down at the page until he catches Chrissy hiding a smile behind her hand. He smacks her in the arm with a quiet, “shut up,” but his ears are already burning.

“Can I see?” she asks, and all the fondness floods back into him.

“Course,” he says, pushing it across. He watches her face avidly, heartbeat ratcheting up as he watches a smile bloom across her face.

“He’s sweet,” she says, smiling dreamily down at the page for a moment before looking up at him with waggling eyebrows he couldn’t have imagined seeing on her face even a week ago. “He wants to dream of you.”

Her voice warbles teasingly, and the warmth on his ears starts creeping onto his cheeks and down his neck. Unable to help himself, Steve shoves her arm again. “Shut up!”

All she does is laugh and latch onto him to keep herself upright.

“He wants to know you,” she says, still smiling, still teasing, but it’s okay when it’s her, not like Tommy’s cruel ribbing or Carol’s barbed words. “So, what do you want him to know?”

PART 4

[yandereunsolved]

✐ᝰ Yandere Clark Kent 'Superman' ᝰ.ᐟ

Alien, farmer, reporter, superhero, and Justice League member are all titles Clark has collected over the years. They stretch from the most mundane to the ones that are given the highest respect. All of these titles pale in comparison to the one he yearns for the most: to be your husband. Every one of his positive traits seemed to disintegrate when it came to you, his accomplishments and status along with them. He was simply Clark to you, not Superman or Kal-El.

He was nothing but a love-sick maniac at your feet. His obsession threatens to break the moral code he is so devoted to. He understands that his attraction to you is something unhealthy and taboo. He is a beacon of light in the darkness of the world. Yet he'd be willing to blind the entire world with light just to be acknowledged by you. He'd cut out his own heart and present it in a gift box with a red bow if it'd please you.

You—just a human reporter who works at the Daily Planet. You who lives in a small studio apartment. You who has aspirations of doing something greater than just writing opinion pieces. You who has captured the noble hero's heart. 

You, you, you, you, you, you, you.

He can't get enough.

He doesn't get enough of you. You seem to actively avoid him. You interact with Lois so cordially; you two are close friends. He works with Lois. Why are you giving him the cold shoulder?

He knows everything about you. He knows your favorite restaurant, where you go to de-stress, your schedule, your hobbies, and your fantasies. He's spent so much time learning about you. You've learned nothing about him except for the fact that he's your dorky, sweet co-worker.

"Are you staring at them again? How long have you been staring at them? Why do you keep staring at them? Do you have a crush on them!?" Lois interrogates him with that same curiosity kindling in the back of her violet eyes.

He could demolish buildings in an instant, but he couldn't control his pale complexion from being invaded by a red hue. He had to think for a moment. His words had become lost in his mind, like they had been dispersed among the cosmos. He stuttered at first. It felt so out of character for him. He always, well, almost always, knew what to say. 

He had to be careful around her. He's lucky that he has been clever enough to keep his obsessive tendencies under wraps until Lois leaves his side.

"I just want to know why they refuse to talk to me." His words were laced with truth. Still, he was dodging her questions, as always.

Lois huffs in irritation, like he just said the most asinine thing one could ever utter.

"They obviously like you. They just think you're way out of their league."

"What?" He deadpans.

"I never give you the inside scoop about your darling little crush, but this one time I may." She teases him. "Clark, they like you. The googly eyes you two make at each other are such an obvious indication that you both are totally whipped for each other."

"You're serious?" His pupils dilate to such an extensive degree that you would have thought he was getting them checked by an optometrist. A lump forms in this throat, twice the size of his Adam's apple. "They like me?"

"They more than like you. They are interested in you, and you should totally ask them out on a date. I have to help a friend out, y'know? You two would make such a cute couple." Lois's pitch in her voice had become so much higher; even with her evident giddiness, there was an undertone of sulleness.

"Hey!" Lois calls you over. She waves her arm around and points towards Clark.

You scurry over in your flattering work outfit. It wouldn't be appropriate for him to eye you like a forbidden sweet. Still, he could feel his clothes grow tighter and his palms become sweaty. You couldn't even look him in the eyes. He wanted to gently tilt your chin up so your eyes would meet his. He'd eat a lump of kryptonite just for you to glance at him with that love-lorn expression. If only you knew, he could show; no, he has to show—

"You and him are going to go undercover in a local cafe a few blocks from here." He's snapped from his never-ending supply of thoughts about you. "It's supposedly a cover for a notorious drug cartel. Your cover story will be that you're a young couple going out on a date."  

You glance at Lois and eagerly nod. His words don't register your reply, but from Lois's grin, you obviously said something along the lines of yes. You walk off once again, your eyes sweeping across the aged carpet covering the office floor. Once out of hearing distance, Lois turns back to him.

"You're welcome. You owe me one." Lois nudges him in the side.

He could die a happy man now.

[nappingmoon]

quick lil fluffy blurb about toji <33

thinking about married, domestic life with toji and you come home from coffee with your girlfriends to an empty house. you call out for him and hear a little "outside" ring in through the open window. its a beautiful late spring day as you walk onto your porch outside and see your husband, shirtless, hunched over what looks to be half of a cabinet, wooden planks and screws. you approach taking in the way the muscles in his back work in tandem with each other as he works to sand some of the edges of the wood. a bit of sweat drips down by his brow, the exertion taking its toll even as a light breeze whisks through the air. it catches in your dress, the soft fabric fluttering around your legs as you come to stand behind him.

"what are you making, toji? it's been a while since you've pulled out your woodworking stuff, did you find a new project?" you ask trying to peek at all of the pieces he has.

"saw ya geekin out over a cabinet on your pinterest board. figured it wasn't too hard ta make from scratch, no big deal or nothing. how was lunch with the girls?"

"what cab-" you start, but think back to the little board you had dedicated to pieces you wanted to decorate your home with. most of them were just fragments of a dream cottage you'd conjured in your head but recently, you couldn't stop thinking about maybe splurging on a gorgeous piece to give you a little more storage and a space to show off the books you had bought recently and the little clay statue your toddler made you in his art class. "shut up you are not making the white cabinet oh my god!" your voices rises nearly two octaves in excitement and disbelief. "how did you even see that! when did you get a pinterest account?"

"you made me get one so i could see the board you dedicated to us, princess. i hop on it every couple'a months ta see what you're thinking about. saw this thing ya keep adding to your collections and had some pieces left over after the swing chair. jus' bought a few more boards n' hinges. wanted to wait for you before getting paint in case you wanted a different color." you truly could burst from all of the love you had inside of you for this man. he wasn't always the best with words, but actions like these made reminded you every day why you said yes all those years ago.

left speechless, you simply lean over his back and throw your arms around his neck, pressing a big fat kiss to his cheek, hoping he feels the love radiate from you to him. "hey, get off, doll. m' all sweaty!" he says, bringing a hand to your shoulder and lightly pushing. you ignore his protest and tighten your arms before laying a small assault of kisses all over the side of his face. when you're satisfied, you pull back, seeing a small hint of fading red kiss marks left from your lip stick.

"thank you, toji. so much. can i help you with anything?" you ask, giddy.

"'ve got things covered here, doll. 'm a little thirsty though, would ya mind getting me a water or something?" he replies, and you twirl immediately, eager to fix him up a cold lemonade and some fruit. before you can get a step away and tell him 'of course,' his hand reaches up and grabs yours, tugging you back. you nearly fall but he's got you with a steady hand at the small of your back. he leans over and steals a kiss from your stunned form. "that's better. thanks babe." he says as he releases you, leaving a light pat on your butt before he crouches back down over the planks he still needed to sand.

what a gorgeous day.

[starlostseungmin]

husband!han

✰ notes: posting this a day early since i’ll be out of town please enjoy <33 not proofread. REBLOGGING, COMMENTS AND LEAVING TAGS are highly appreciated! thank you <33

seungmin , chan , lee know , jeongin （ han ）changbin , felix , hyunjin.

ꔛ

Husband Han who asked the baker and chef to put the ring inside the cake. You thought it was kind of old school and yet you cried when you saw the ring. He went down on one knee in front of the crowd as the waiter/waitresses came for assistance. “Will you be the mother of Bbama?” “Yes!” 

Husband Han who wrote a song that he’d use on the day of his wedding proposal. The lyrics consist of words about his feelings, how deep his love is for you, how thankful he is, and how you are his favorite person apart from his Minho hyung. He went on the small stage of the restaurant and grabbed a small piece of paper so he wouldn’t forget what he had written. 

Husband Han whom you can order around. He complains but still does whatever you ask for. Sometimes he just obeys quietly or if he’s in the mood, he looks like a kid who’s happy to help his parents with that adorable and proud smile plastered on his face.

Husband Han who loves to stay home and watch your favorite movies then proceeds to cuddle you all day. He also buys things that will serve good for your convenience and cause less effort. He is a home buddy for a reason. 

Husband Han who is happy as a clam when you visit him while he’s at work especially when you bring him and his members with a ton of food.

Husband Han who is a loud introvert and hits high notes effortlessly on a random Wednesday morning. 

Husband Han who overreacts, and screams at any small inconvenience when he gets a chance. Hyunjin would be the one to cover his mouth because his ears suffer the most. 

Husband Han who has a lot of feelings and takes everything to heart (playfully) during a nonsense argument and will say some things nonstop until both of you just laugh them off. Yet also the type to be calm and straightforward that would pierce your heart if it’s serious especially when he does have a point. 

Husband Han who sometimes doesn’t listen to you and is stubborn. 

Husband Han who apologizes hours later after thoroughly thinking of what he did or said wrong during the fight. He would hug you tightly when he sees you crying and say “I love you” instead of  “I’m sorry.”

Husband Han who listens attentively to your worries and gives you useful advice. If he feels like you don’t want to hear anything and just sit there in silence, he will hold your hand or bring you into his arms while kissing the crown of your head. 

Husband Han whose love languages are physical touch, quality time, and words of affirmation (through the songs he wrote). 

Husband Han who gets jealous when you pay too much attention to BBama instead of him. He would sulk at the corner and refuse to talk unless you baby him until he decides to forgive you. 

Husband Han who gets sentimental when sad so you let him lay on you and bury his face on your neck while you hum his favorite tune or just play with his hair while whispering some things that he needs to hear. He loves it when you do that. 

Husband Han who loves cheesecakes especially when you’re the one who made them. He’d devour them immediately with some iced coffee he got from Seungmin.

Husband Han who gets round when he eats something or just mainly his cheeks are the cutest that you want to kiss, pinch, or suddenly goes nom nom nom. 

Husband Han who doesn’t mind you wearing his clothes. He loves them on you. 

Husband Han whose voice you want to listen to all night after a long day because it’s soothing to hear and brings you comfort, especially when he is talking softly and in a gentle manner. 

Husband Han who gets undeniably shy when you kiss him, especially when you’re in public. He is all giddy and a blushing mess, expect to make out with him when you get home.

Husband Han who can sleep everywhere that you get jealous but he would ask you first if you want to cuddle until you fall asleep in whatever comfortable place you’re at. 

Husband Han who texts or calls you before going home from work just to ask how your day went and if you want him to buy something. Sometimes you do it the other way around. It’s a must in this marriage. 

Husband Han who spoils you a lot. 

Husband Han who respects whatever decision you make, especially when it comes to the thought of having kids. Just like anyone else, he doesn’t pressure you and wait until you’re the first one to initiate the topic. 

Husband Han who promised to love you and never leave until death do you part.

Husband Han who thinks that having you in his life is the greatest gift he could ever have and the best thing that ever happened. 

Husband Han whom you love, protect, and spend the rest of your life with along with Bbama. 

✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89 , @lashaemorow

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[wholoveseggs]

Heyy, you should make an Elijah fic where it’s set where he has his middle part and he falls in love with Elena’s best friend as the reader? With fluff and smut please!!! 🤍🤍

Rules {Part One}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part One

As the little sister of the Salvatores, trouble always finds you. Whether it's from a vampire, werewolf or an original, you are always at the center of it. When the mysterious villain Elijah comes to Mystic Falls, everyone is trying to stop him from hurting Elena. But you? You might be falling in love...

♡♡ Thanks for the request beautiful anon! Middle part Elijah will forever have me in a chokehold && it's about time I write a little bit about the Salvatore brothers...♡♡

2k words - Warnings: this one is just mainly smut, foreplay, secret affair, enemies to lovers, Elijah being the sexiest middle-part menace he can be, reader is a lot like her brother Damon... will this turn into a romeo and juilet tragic romance ? maybee

{Part Two} {Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Five}

"Rules? I don't recall such things..." You giggled softly, kicking your feet a little, a wide smile on your face.

Laying on your stomach in front of the fireplace at the boarding house, you chatted on the phone with Elijah. You ran your fingers through the soft rug underneath you, biting your lip and waiting for a response from him.

"Hmm, perhaps you just have a very poor memory then," Elijah murmured, you could hear the smile in his voice. It had you grinning like an idiot, and you had to roll onto your back and stare up at the ceiling just to calm yourself down. You felt giddy, excited, and so many other emotions that you thought were long dormant in your old age.

"Perhaps..." You murmured, letting out a happy sigh and smiling at the ceiling.

"Let me refresh your memory," Elijah whispered into the phone, his tone calm and deep, as he sat back in the large leather chair in his office. "Rule one, when we are together, it will just be us,"

"And it will be," You assured him, closing your eyes, imagining his voice directly in your ear. "Everyone has gone away for the night,"

"I don't see why we don't just rent a room," He chuckled softly.

"Because," you murmured, feeling shyer by the second. "I want you to see my room, I have some books and art to share with you, there's this painting I hung up the other day that you would love..."

Elijah smiled, looking down and picking at a piece of lint on his pants, unable to deny how much he liked that thought. "I would love to see all the details of what makes you happy,"

You blushed, sitting up on your thighs, the heat of the fireplace warming your back.

"So? Come over?" You asked, hopeful, almost squirming with need.

Elijah knew this was a bad idea, if the Salvatore brothers returned, he would have to deal with their wrath. They were the enemy, but you... You were a weakness, one he couldn't seem to ignore.

"What would I get in return?" He wondered, standing up and moving over to the window.

You grinned, a plan forming. "Anything you want..."

Elijah licked his lips, feeling his heart beat just a bit faster.

"You are dangerous..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Give me an hour,"

You giggled happily, rolling onto your stomach and kicking your legs behind you. "I'll be waiting,"

With a small hum of confirmation, Elijah ended the call.

You tossed your phone aside and scurried to your room, deciding what to wear. Usually you weren't shy or nervous to hook-up with someone, but with Elijah it was different.

It had been a few weeks, and you had both agreed, the last time would be the only time. But then one thing led to another, a text here, an invitation there, and now you couldn't deny the pull between the two of you.

After showering and shaving and washing, you stood naked in your closet and looked through the clothes. You finally settled on a simple yet expensive lingerie set that hugged your body and pushed up your breasts. Then you slipped into a simple black dress, deciding to keep it casual, since you were planning on being naked for most of the night.

A knock on the door made you grin, and you rushed to the door, your excitement bubbling to the surface.

Elijah stood on the porch, hands tucked in the pockets of his long trench coat, a small smile on his face.

"Hello, Miss Salvatore," He said softly, stepping inside.

You shut the door behind him, pressing your back against it, taking in the man before you.

"Elijah," You purred, grinning like a cat. "Glad you could join me,"

Elijah hummed softly, his eyes roaming your form. You could see the lust in his eyes, the way his jaw clenched.

"You know, the last time we were alone, I believe we agreed this would not happen again," Elijah reminded, taking a step forward, closing the gap between you.

"Hmm, did we?" You murmured, your hand reaching out and running down the front of his suit, feeling the material. You stopped and looked up at him, a grin on your face.

He leaned down and kissed you, his lips soft and gentle against yours. His hands went to your hips, pulling you flush against him.

You let out a small gasp, a hand going to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart.

You pulled away, your cheeks a light pink and your breathing heavy. He already had you dizzy, and he had barely done anything.

"How about a tour?" He murmured, a smile on his lips.

"Sure," You nodded, pulling him towards the stairs, a giddy smile on your face.

He followed along, not paying attention to the art and paintings on the walls, instead he was watching you, the way your hips swayed with every step, and the smile on your face as you brought him closer and closer to your bedroom.

As soon as you stepped through the door, Elijah's hands were on your waist, his lips kissing along your neck and shoulders. He kicked the door close, and started pushing you further into the room.

You stumbled a little, giggling and holding onto his arm, letting him push you towards the bed. You spun around and faced him, and he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. You ran your hands up his chest and to his tie, unknotting it and throwing it on the ground. You worked on his jacket next, sliding it off his shoulders and down his arms, leaving him in his white shirt.

"Mm, you're rushing," Elijah teased, nipping at your bottom lip, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

"No, no, you're just too slow," You shot back, ripping open his shirt, the buttons flying across the room.

Elijah looked down at his torn shirt, and then up at you, his lips curled into a smirk. "Careful,"

"Or what?" You teased, running your fingers through his hair, a playful glint in your eyes.

Elijah pushed you backwards, and you fell onto the bed, letting out a laugh as he crawled up your body, his mouth attaching to your neck, sucking and biting, making you moan.

"Greedy little vampire, aren't you?" He murmured against your skin, his hands running up your thighs, slowly pushing your dress up.

"Hmm, for you," You purred, tugging at his belt, getting frustrated when you couldn't get it undone.

Elijah chuckled, sitting up and working his belt free, a cocky smirk on his lips. You rolled your eyes, and wiggled your way out of your dress, tossing it onto the ground, leaving you in nothing but the black lace lingerie.

"My, my," Elijah said slowly, his eyes drinking in the sight before him. "You look stunning,"

You bit your lip, a small smile on your face as he climbed back on top of you, his hands running up your sides.

"This was an excellent choice," He murmured, running his fingers over the lace. "Maybe I should rip it off, make it match my shirt,"

"Don't you dare," You warned, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing his mouth to yours.

Your hand rested against his stomach, and you let it wander up his chest. You could feel his strength as he held himself over you, the muscles of his arms flexing, his chest rising and falling.

His hair fell into his face, framing his cheekbones, his intense gaze fixed on you. You blushed and tucked his hair behind his ear, running your finger along his sharp jaw.

"You're so handsome," You breathed, the words escaping your lips before you could stop them.

Elijah chuckled, his breath hot against your skin.

"And you're breathtaking," He murmured, before ripping off your lingerie, leaving you completely bare beneath him.

"I told you not to do that," You gasped, though you weren't really angry, your blood was already rushing south.

He grinned, his fingers trailing up your leg, teasing your core. You spread your legs wider, and he eased a finger inside you, chuckling as your annoyed expression melted into pleasure. He watched you like this, lips parted, panting softly. Then he added second finger, then a third, until he was fucking you with three fingers, the palm of his hand brushing against your clit.

"Elijah," You moaned, tugging him down, kissing him roughly.

Elijah smirked against your lips, and curled his fingers, finding that sweet spot that had you seeing stars.

"Fuck," You moaned, arching off the bed, your eyes screwed shut.

"That's it," He encouraged, his eyes dark with lust as he watched you, his fingers picking up speed, curling and twisting inside you.

"I can't..." You whined, squirming and grabbing his wrist.

"But you can," He mumbled, kissing you deeply. You moaned into the kiss as he moved his hand faster. The tension was so delicious and intoxicating, but before you could reach your release, Elijah was pulling his hand back.

You were so lost in pleasure you didn't hear the sound of the front door opening, or the noise of Stefan and Damon entering the house.

But Elijah did. He froze, his ears trained on the footsteps of the Salvatore brothers. He cursed under his breath, and turned to look down at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

You frowned at the lack of contact, and pouted, looking up at him, confused. You opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off with a kiss.

Then you heard them.

In a flash Elijah was gone, all that was left of his touch was your scattered breathing and lust filled eyes.

You heard the sound of your brother's footsteps coming up the stairs and pulled a blanket over yourself. A moment later Damon and Stefan walked in the doorway.

"What do you want?" You muttered, looking grumpy, and trying to sound like you were angry at being interrupted from a good sleep.

"Just checking in," Stefan smiled, before noticing how disheveled your hair was, the blush in your cheeks, and the fact that you were wrapped in a blanket and nothing else.

"Have you been here all night?" Damon asked, looking concerned.

"Yes," You snapped, sitting up and pulling the blankets tighter around you. "I was tired and fell asleep reading,"

Stefan and Damon shared a look, neither looked like they were buying your story.

"We'll let you rest," Stefan nodded, heading for the door, giving you a suspicious look.

"Yeah, go back to sleep, we'll be downstairs," Damon murmured, shooting you a knowing look, before following his brother out the door, shutting it behind him.

Once they were gone, you collapsed back against the pillows, letting out a breath.

You could still feel Elijah's lips on yours, still smell his cologne, still taste him on your tongue. You closed your eyes, a smile spreading across your face.

It was in that moment, that you knew you were absolutely, undeniably, hopelessly, in love with Elijah.

And, without a doubt, completely and utterly fucked.

{Part Two} {Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Five}

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@li-da-savage

[boorines]

as sweet as peaches | jeon wonwoo

wonwoo sits cross-legged on the floor, ikea manual laying open on his lap. the half built coffee table sits upside down in front of him, loose screws and nails scattered around the piece of furniture.

“did you find the piece that goes in this corner?”, you ask in confusion from your spot on the floor opposite wonwoo, one hand holding what you think is one of the legs of the table. “is it this one?”

your boyfriend looks up at you and breathes out an amused laugh, cheeks puffing up. “that’s the spare piece, gorgeous”.

you look at him, cocking an eyebrow, “you sure, wonu? because the last time you said something was a spare”, you point at the singular leg attached to the table, “that fell off”.

he grins sheepishly, “well… uh, maybe it could come in handy”. you shoot him a fond smile.

you both work on the piece of furniture for a while, sneaking glances at each other and giggling at lame jokes, before you stand up and wordlessly walk over to the kitchen. wonwoo follows your movement with his eyes, pushing his glasses up his nose as he does so.

you disappear behind the kitchen counter before re-emerging with a plate of sliced peaches and tangerines. setting it on the floor beside wonwoo you mumble, “odd combination, but it’s all i could find”. you peer at him and the softness you see in his eyes makes heat crawl up your neck.

“i love you”, he whispers.

“because of peaches?”, you ask shyly, taking a seat beside him.

“nope”, he breathes out, “peaches are just a bonus”. he picks up a fuzzy slice and holds it up to your lips. you accept the bite gratefully.

“the tangerines, then”, you mumble around a mouthful of fruit.

wonwoo laughs, it’s a very pretty sound, you think. low and deep, yet airy and relaxed. your giggles join his, the room filling with innocent laughter.

the two of you continue to tinker with the coffee table, occasionally nibbling on pieces of fruit. with the build almost complete, you lean back on the heels of your palms, surveying your work.

“not bad for two amateurs”, you declare with a grin. “i think we could build all of ikea if we wanted to”.

wonwoo chuckles, “we’ll have many days of building furniture in our future”. you look at him in question. “dressers, bookshelves, cribs”, he elaborates.

your eyes widen and you feel your cheeks burn fiery red. cribs… baby cribs? did you hear him wrong? did he say it on purpose?

he turns to you, eyes dancing and cheeks slightly pink. oh. definitely on purpose.

you look at him, lips parted ever-so-slightly.

“one day, i mean… if you want to”. he whispers.

you don’t have a response. you’re breathless and giddy and so in love.

leaning forward, you press your lips against wonwoo’s. soft and careful. he hums in contentment against your mouth, kissing you back with fervour.

his hand trails up your arm to your cheek, cupping your face like you’re as delicate as fine china. his other hand snakes around your waist, resting against the small of your back. he kisses you slowly, and when he feels you smile against his lips he melts. to him, this is bliss.

you pull away, breathless and heart racing. and suddenly, you’re 16 again. too shy to meet wonwoo’s eyes, a soft blush colouring your cheeks when he squeezes your hand with a hum.

“baby?”, he peers at you, trying to catch your attention.

when you finally look up at him, he’s dazzled by the stars in your eyes. the very same ones he thinks you hung up in the sky.

“you’re too much”, you mumble, just above a whisper. the chuckle it coaxes out of him drives the feeling deeper.

he drops a quick kiss to your cheek, his eyes dripping honey.

you point to the unfinished coffee table in front of you with furrowed brows, “we’ve been neglecting our magnum opus”.

his bright laughter booms throughout the room. “i don’t think an ikea coffee table is our magnum opus, baby”. he thinks he knows what will be, but he doesn’t say it. he’s hinted at it enough today. instead, he picks up a handful of screws and the last remaining leg of the table.

you take up a purely supportive role. handing him missing screws or nails you see him hunting for. you lean against the couch behind you, silently watching your boyfriend finish the rest of the build. you admire the way his hands move deftly to hammer in nails, the way he pushes the sleeves of his sweater further up his arms, the way he adjusts his glasses on his nose when they start to slip.

you’re happy, you think. just silently being in his company.

“finished”, he declares, pushing himself off the floor and offering you a hand to pull you to your feet. you stand beside him and look down at your work.

“not bad, jeon wonwoo”, you praise.

“not bad yourself”, he responds with a squeeze of your hand. he smiles fondly when he feels you squeeze back.

he looks at you, eyes warm, and drops a chaste kiss to you lips.

warmth floods your body. he’s just so sweet, you think.

“you taste like peaches”, he mumbles.

he’s as sweet as peaches.

—

ahh wonwoo…

writing this was really fun!! sweet wonu thinking about how urs and his masterpiece will be ur baby…omg

i hope u enjoy this one! as always, my requests and asks are open <3