#idk how but i could only write this at um… 3 am

[luminique]

i can see lighter playing the guitar. he’s not a pro at it, but he can play a few chords and strum a little tune. now what if, he plays for his s/o? serenading them a bit, messing up and picking the wrong strings but he’s determined to woo his s/o even if his face is turning red with embarrassment. of course he’ll only play for them somewhere private, can’t have the girls intruding or teasing him now can we?

with his position in the sons of calydon, he seems to have a lot of free time in his hands. of course, he prioritizes whatever job the girls give him, but when they’re all busy with their own things, he’d find some time to try playing the guitar.

after learning just a few chords to be able to play a couple of songs, he’d try to find a secluded and far away enough area from all of the girls. he had always been playing to just himself so when its suddenly just the both of you, him holding his guitar, he’s beginning to feel his hands shake.

you’ve heard him practice on occasion in passing. the only way you knew was because his voice was recognizable, even if it was just the chorus of a song. but here he was, struggling to even get through the first verse. it’s awkward, its embarrassing, he’s still wearing his shades but you can see how red he is behind them.

slowly, he’s getting used to it. he’s not good but he isn’t bad either. he’s definitely messing up and is aware of it but there’s something about being with you where he could afford to show his mistakes. he wanted to seem cool and mysterious but his feelings for you couldn’t let him. if he can’t confess to you normally, hopefully the lyrics and emotions from the songs he sing could.

[causenessus]

JUST KNOW APPARENTLY I MISCOUNTED MY TAGS AND I WANTED TO PUT THIS IN MY FAVORITES AND PANTRY STAPLES AND FIRST AID KIT BUT I DIDN'T HAVE ENOUGH ROOM SO I SWITCHED OUT PANTRY STAPLE TAG FOR THE FIRST AID KIT TAG!!! (this makes sense to no one but me BUT EGGY THIS WAS SO GOOD)

THE MANEATER CHAPTER NINE: diet pepsi

masterlist

divider credits to roseraris

"Man, I swear she's the one who asked me."

Iwaizumi believes him. That’s the worst part. Actually, the worst part is this odd pang he gets in his chest. He doesn’t have the right to feel betrayed, and yet, here he is, feeling betrayed and jealous and pushing some random man out the door just because she batted her eyelashes at him.

He’s fucked. Iwaizumi’s totally fucked.

“Don’t care. Club’s closed, go home,” Iwaizumi instructs, tone cold and detached. And before pretty boy can respond, he’s closing the doors in his face and locking them, more than ready for this fucking night to be over with.

She’s in their spot, sitting on a milk crate, cigarette hanging lazily from her lips, in one of her ridiculous outfits. Iwaizumi sighs at the sight of her; her drunkenness is evident in the way her limbs hang from her, sloppily, like they’re hardly connected to her at all. He doesn’t try to convince himself he’s not worried. Iwaizumi’s past that point.

She offers no reaction as he pulls up his milk crate to sit beside her, she just pulls the cigarettes away and breaths out a line of smoke. “Rough night?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Fuck off,” she mumbles, but there’s none of her usual bite to it. “Thanks for getting that guy off me. I changed my mind about thirty seconds in.”

Iwaizumi squirms. “Yeah, I could tell.”

They sit in silence for a moment. Iwaizumi doesn’t move. He’s never quite seen her like this before. Quiet and solemn. Even with a drink thrown in her face she was blubbering and expressive and loud. Now her expression is straight and unwavering, her words a pitch lower than they usually are. He doesn’t know how to deal with her like this.

“I got into an argument with Kiyoko,” she offers suddenly, and Iwaizumi tilts his head to look directly at her. “Was my fault, for sure. But she wants to quit, get her own place. She said she’s tired of this lifestyle.”

Iwaizumi watches her face for any give or any sort of tell. But she doesn’t flinch or twitch and there’s no watering in her eyes and this feels suddenly more severe than any other conversation they’ve had. He shifts and pulls out a cigarette of his own. “And, to you,” Iwaizumi starts, flicking at the end of his lighter, “this lifestyle is sorta synonymous with you, right?”

She turns her head to glare at him. She looks tired, that coating of makeup on her face doing little to conceal the dark bruises under her eyes. “Don’t be a dick about it.”

“I’m not being a dick about it,” he contests gently, exhaling smoke. “I’d be upset too.”

“You would?”

He nods. “Yeah. It fucking sucks when it feels like people are moving on from you.”

Her head drops, and her eyes find the ground. “She’s my best friend. I was mean to her.”

Iwaizumi does something unexpected then. He doesn’t realize he’s doing it until he’s already done it, but he raises his arm and throws it over her shoulder, pulling her and her milk crate closer to him as he does so. His heart hammers in his throat when she lets her head fall against his shoulder. “She’ll forgive you.”

There are goosebumps on the skin of her arm. Iwaizumi can feel them, and he lets himself believe they’re not from the chilled, late summer night. “I wanted to go home with someone so I wouldn’t have to go home to see her. Is that pathetic?”

Iwaizumi swallows a lump in his throat. “You can come back to my place, if you want.”

✧˖*°࿐

She’s standing in Iwaizumi’s bedroom. She cleaned her face off with Oikawa’s micellar water and used his expensive face wash and moisturizer. She pulled off her fake eyelashes and left them on Iwaizumi’s nightstand, next to the glass of water and Advil he left her, and now she’s standing in the middle of his bedroom, wearing a t-shirt he pulled from the bottom of his drawer and a pair of sweatpants she had to roll up not to trip over.

His room is exactly what she would expect. Plain walls and grey sheets. Methodically neat and organized. Black wooden furniture and dumbbells stuffed in the corner. It feels oddly familiar, being in a room that is so him.

There’s a knock on the other side of the door. Polite of him to knock on his own bedroom door. Standing feels awkward, so she sits at the edge of his bed. “Come in,” she says, quieter than she needs to, like she’s afraid of getting caught.

Iwaizumi opens the door, and then hovers there for a moment. He looks like he has something caught in his throat. “Do you need anything else?” he asks.

“Nah. Are you sure you don’t want me to sleep on the couch though?” she asks, knotting her hands together on her lap.

“Take the bed,” he insists. He has an expression on that she can’t read. That might be on purpose. “You look different.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Different?”

“Without all the makeup. Less intimidating, I guess.”

“Sorry,” she says with a slight eyeroll. “I’ll put a full face of makeup back on, so you don’t get uncomfortable by what I actually look like.”

“Not uncomfortable,” Iwaizumi is quick to correct, and then he takes a step back, hand reaching for the light. “Goodnight.”

He leaves her in the darkness, and she settles into his sheets. They smell like him. And she’s not sure if she’s still just too drunk, but she sort of hopes the smell lingers on her skin by morning. It’s the last thought she has before she falls asleep.

✧˖*°࿐

She is awoken before she’s ready. The blinds of his bedroom are ripped open, and the morning sunlight invades her rest. She groans, and grabs the closest corner of blanket she can find to pull it over her face. “Go away,” she grumbles.

Iwaizumi chuckles. “Gotta get up, brat. I got you breakfast.”

She groans. “Don’t want breakfast. Wanna sleep.”

She doesn’t know what time it is and it’s hardly even registered where exactly she is. All she can think about is hiding in possibly the warmest and softest place she’s ever been in her life, and sleeping for eight more hours or so.

And then, the blanket is ripped from her, and once exposed to the cold, outside air, she shoots upright. Iwaizumi grins. She glares. “Breakfast, c’mon. Before my roommates wake up.”

That motivates her. With less reluctance now, she rises, and follows Iwaizumi to his kitchen, quietly complaining the entire time, continuing to do so as she devours as a bagel. Whatever last night was, it was just theirs. No roommates need to know.

When she leaves, she leaves in his clothes, her own ones bundled up into tight balls of fabric and shoved to the bottom of her purse. She wears her platform boots under his sweatpants and at least they allow her a few extra inches of height so she’s not dragging them along the pavement as Iwaizumi walks her home.

By the time he leaves her at her front door, they’ve returned to normal, trading insults back and forth like it’s the only language they know how to speak. But when she closes her own bedroom door behind her and falls onto her bed, she’s still wearing his clothes, and it all feels different.

✧˖*°࿐

Iwaizumi was going to wash his sheets. But he lies down on top of his bed, and notices they smell like her perfume. He looks to his nightstand, and sees her fake eyelashes, lying there with bits of glue stuck to them. And he decides to leave the traces of her there, for now.

extras!

yn rode home from the club with iwaizumi on the back of his skateboard

he went slower than usual because he was afraid of her getting hurt

yn and kiyoko has fought before but they always make up in the end ; yn takes it harder when she fights with kiyoko because she hates the feeling of disappointing her

iwaizumi had her ass up and out of bed at 7:30 in the goddamn morning

she was pissed

taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @deluluforcarlos55 @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @needtoloveoutloud @causenessus @kawaii-angelanne @thatonecroc @v1oletfury @lonesomedrive @nnnyxie @guitarstringed-scars @nbcvs @garfieldissocool @iheartpinky @mollyrolls @yogurtkags @yuminako @michivrse @19calicos @sunnyskiezzzz @bailey-reeds @staileykout @kitskasoboring @loverlunaire @iluvaquaphor @lllaw @alpha-mommy69 @acowboykisser @karasyuu @aquariarose @torkorpse @wave2mia @southernfrogprincesd @mfcherry @adorerinn @soulfullystarry @jaynawayna

[urfavlarry]

Heyyy:)

I’ve been reading every single SBG Post you have, and I kindly wanted to request something👉👈

Sooo (reader) who’s main weapons are fireworks/explosives(cuz light, and well explosions) And they somehow get hurt by them one day?

(Preferably gn/fem reader, with Ben, Aiden and/ or Tyler) 🧎🧎

Sooo thx for reading this:) You’re so cool!

A/N: oo love this!! thank you for requesting<3 and btw idk why Aidens is so long I think I blacked out while writing for him :,)

warnings: bl00d, swearing, bad grammar, explosives, fireworks, mentions of gagging and throwing up

scenario:

You’ve been playing around with explosives ever since you were little. You lived with your older brother who was experiences with these things and since he couldn’t teach you how to fight, he chose to teach you how to work with explosives. Whether it was fireworks, dynamite, grenades, you knew how to work it. One day while fighting off a phantom your own weapon, well, backfires.

Ben Clark 🎧ྀི

╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🎧ྀི ɞ˚‧｡⋆

You throw the grenade at the phantom, another in hand waiting to be thrown. You don’t realize you already pulled out the pin from the grenade and it explodes in your hand. You feel numb, eyes wide from the sudden explosion and ears ringing. You feel a really bad pain in your arm, well at least whats left of it and scream. Everyone turns in your direction and either gasp, scream, or full on start to gag. Ben rushes to your side and pick you on on his back and runs with you to the graveyard along with everyone else, Ashlyn yelling a quick; “Everyone back down.”

Your vision starts to get blurry and someone hits your cheeks; “Y/N, you need to stay awake, okay? Don’t pass out, Y/N, Y/N!” You keep your eyes open but look away from the gruesome sight and start to sob. “Everything will be okay we won’t let anything happen to you.” You hear a robotic kind of voice and look into that direction seeing Ben with the most worried expression, Aiden standing there next to him to somewhat calm him down. You smile weakly but instantly hold back a scream of pain as someone starts to clean your wound.

“Fuck..” You groan and look at the night sky, hoping for this pure torture to end. You sigh as they finally start to wrap your ‘arm’ and finish the little procedure. After that Ashlyn goes away, probably to throw up or something. You don’t blame her, that was really a gruesome sight. You feel a presence beside you and look towards the person, smiling when you see Ben. “Hey..” You say and he nods, pulling you a bit closer to him. You rest your head on his shoulder and close your eyes, trying to sleep the trauma off. It was funny, you were taking it more lightly than you thought. “Ben?” You say and he looks down at you. “Isn’t it funny?” You smile and look up at him, making him raise a brow; “That everyone is taking this so harshly while I’m here literally not even crying? Well yes I did cry but that shit really hurt and I—” You shut up when you get embraced into a hug. You relax and let the tears fall, Ben patting your back. “Let it out.” He whispers so only you could hear. You were one of the only ones except Aiden and his family that heard his voice. It wasn’t often but when he did speak a warm feeling welled up in your chest.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” He says in a raspy voice and you sniffle, pulling away from the hug. You look up at the stars, trying to ignore your aching arm. “Thanks, um, for being here when I need you.” You say and he nods, kissing your cheek and puts an arm around your shoulder. “I’d do anything for you, I’m just sad I couldn’t stop this whole thing from happening.” He thinks to himself and just stares at you lovingly, leaving you to rest.

Aiden Clark

╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🎸 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Everything hurt like hell. You could hear a faint buzz in your head as you tried to quickly move away but a sharp pain pierced through your entire body. Tears started to fall from your face. “Why am I crying?” You think to yourself not knowing how to stop the bothersome tears from coming down your face. You look down at your body and your eyes widen, brain forever traumatized by the gruesome sight. Your leg was completely torn off and your side was bleeding as well. Fire was forming beside you where an explosion once erupted from your fireworks. You look at the sky, just hoping for the clock to strike 7 like it usually did and end this horrible nightmare. You feel your body be picked up by someone and just close your eyes, shoulders relaxing as your whole world turns into a black void.

You jolt awake, looking around frantically, quickly relaxing when you recognize your little safe space; your room. You groan, your side and leg feeling numb and tingly. Looking up at the ceiling you contemplate whether you should go to school or not, but you know that would worry your friends and even Aiden even more than you already did. Slipping from under the covers you get ready and walk down to the kitchen where your brother was making you breakfast, your favorite. He smiles at you warmly and kisses your forehead; “Tough night?” He knew what has been going on, you told him just a few weeks after Savannah. You were the first out of the group to tell anyone and your brother of course believed you, knowing you as a person to not make up such things. You frown at the thought of last night and decide to not tell him, knowing he would take the blame, saying something like; “I should’ve taught you better.” or even going as far as saying “I shouldn’t have taught you at all.” You sigh and put on a fake smile; “Hey I’m fine! Everything went well last night.” He smiles and ruffles up your hair; “Okay kiddo, if you say so. Now get to school you don’t wanna be late.” He says and you nod, quickly going upstairs yo gather some last minute things and rush to catch the bus, not really being in the mood to walk to school.

You get to the bus and see a very tired and worried looking group of kids, aka the group. Ben was comforting Aiden who was more quiet then usual, Tyler looking more pissed then ever, Taylor being the complete opposite and put on a fake smile, and well Ashlyn had a poker face on like usual but still looked pretty worried having her head rested on the window looking at god knows what. “Hey.” You say and everyone looks up, Taylor rushing to hug you and Logan who you hadn’t noticed did as well, all of them bombarding you with questions. You sit down and turn so your back is against the chair in front of you and legs towards the back of the seat you were sitting on. You were facing the group and everyone waited for you to speak, but only Aiden caught your eye. He wasn’t looking in your direction and was fiddling with his fingers, something very unlike him. You tell everyone you’re fine and tell them you can talk about it later, grabbing Aidens shoulder when you get off the bus. “Guys go on ahead, we will be there in a minute.” Everyone nods and Aiden tenses up and looks down.

“Hey hun, everything okay? You’re more quiet than usu—” You get taken by surprise when Aiden raises his voice at you, tears in his eyes and a very worried but angry expression on his face. “Okay? Y/N I really am not okay. I saw my s/o get blown up by fireworks, do you know how that feels?” You go to speak but get cut off again and just stay quiet from then; “I’m glad you’re okay but I’m not, oh but wait! I’m totally fine! I just saw the love of my fucking life get blown up but thats totally fine! Is that what you wanted to hear Y/N? Well too bad.” He says and you furrow your brows, fist clenching and face going a bit paler than usual.

“That’s nice Aiden, but you are forgetting who actually suffered here. I’m the one who got hurt and you don’t understand how fucking painful that shit is, getting blown up by something you’ve been taught to use ever since you were little by your own family. I didn’t only suffer physically, but seeing that shit fucked me up just as much as it did you. But yeah if it makes you feel better then you’re the one who suffered the most Aiden.” You say and run off into the school, Aiden watching you disappear in the crowd of students who were rushing to get to class. Your words really got to Aiden, he taught about them more and more as he went to class, where you would be. He sits down and puts on a facade for the others, making himself look like he was okay when he really wasn’t. Ben knew something was off but knew better than to interfere in your guys’ situation.

After school you go home, laying in your bed and look up at the ceiling, salty tears pouring out from your eyes making them sting. You hear a knock on your door and you quickly sit up and wipe your tears; “Probably my brother.” You think to yourself but your body tenses when you see a weakly smiling Aiden with flowers and a teddy bear in his hands. You let him in and close the door behind you, facing him. He sets the gifts down and slowly approaches you, opening his arms for a hug. You tackle him in a hug and you both fall to the ground with a loud thud, making both of you chuckle. You stay on the floor like that for quite a bit, Aiden rubbing your back to soothe you as you cry your eyes out, mumbling apologies and ‘I love yous”. He sits up with you in his lap and kisses your cheek and then nose. “I’m so sorry for yelling at you like that it was so uncalled for and I should’ve realized how painful that must’ve been for you. I hope you can forgive me even tho a simple sorry won’t really make up for what I did and said.” He says and looks you in the eyes, cupping your cheek in his hand. You contemplate what to say, knowing what he did was wrong but you could have handled it better yourself. “I let anger get the best of me again, that fucking realm has been rubbing off on me more than usual.” You think to yourself and sigh, hugging him and put your chin on his shoulder. “Aiden I get it, you were angry, sad, quite literally traumatized. You’re.. no, we’re still just teenagers, that shit was gruesome and I really understand that it upset you, yes the things you said were upsetting and could’ve been handled better but just so you know, I don’t hate you for it.” You say and get squeezed in the hug, making you pat his back; “Yeah, yeah, okay jeez Aiden chill.” You say and he chuckles; “No I’m never ever letting you go.” He says and you smile, looking at the time; “8 more hours..” You say and frown; “Aiden what if I just won’t be able to walk again in that realm, even if you somehow manage to stitch me up, that doesn’t guarantee anything.” You say and get shushed by a kiss on the lips; “Everything will be okay, I promise.”

Tyler Hernández

╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🥀 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

“So basically what you’re telling me is I have to be the look out while you guys go for the jeep?” You say and raise a brow as you throw your dynamite in the air letting it fall back in your hand and repeat that like a hundred times. Ashlyn nods and you sigh, grabbing the pitch of your nose; “You know I could potentially explode the jeep? You know dynamite isn’t exactly the best weapon for close combat.” I say and cross my arms over my chest, hoping that Ashlyn would come up with a better plan. Tyler nods along and sits down next to you on the floor of the bus. “Yeah and that shit is pretty dangerous if it explodes near you so what if a phantom attacks Y/N really close? She could get hurt.” He says and Ashlyn sigh, furrowing her brows since you have been planning this for about a week and suddenly the plans would be changing. “Everything will be fine, we have necessary recourses if anything goes wrong.” She says and everyone gets up, apart from you. You sit there and think about all the worst possible outcomes, knowing your own brother once got hurt by dynamite but recovered and still lives a fulfilling life.

Tyler stops in his tracks and looks at you, walking back to you and crouches in front of you. He lifts your chin to look at him and smiles at you; “Everything will be fine, you’re talented Y/N, not everyone can work explosives like you do.” You smile and stand up, hugging him tight and give him a quick kiss on the cheek; “Well, let’s knock these bitches dead.” You say and grab your dynamite and lighter, putting them in your pockets. Aiden ordered some suits online and bought a different one just for you since your weapon was dynamite. You can store them in a belt you have or pockets. It was nice of him but you really couldn’t stop thinking about how anything could go wrong. You finally shake off the thoughts and leave with everyone except Logan who would be near the base with a gun. Everyone runs to the house as “Party rock anthem” were heard in the background.

You smirk and get your dynamite in hand; “Let’s get this party started!” Aiden cheers and Tyler rolls his eyes, making Taylor laugh. “Take this seriously guys.” Tyler yells over the music and you just smile sheepishly as everyone runs into the house except for you like the plan was supposed to go. You turn on your headlamp so the phantoms can’t get that close. You see a group of them standing near the speakers where the song was playing, but you knew you didn’t have that much time before it stopped playing. You hear commotion behind you and see Ashlyn getting pulled up by a phantom. “Shit!” Aiden was standing there trying to get up to help her so you boost him up since you can’t really help unless they want an exploded house and a dead Ash on their hands. The commotion atracted a group of phantoms and they were a bit far because of the light you had turned on. You smirk and light your dynamite throwing it right at them. You cover your ears and let it explode, knowing that probably attracted more phantoms so you take another one out. Eyeing the area closely you hear the song end but see tha Aiden and Ashlyn managed to kill the phantom some how. You smile and give them a thumbs up.

You walk a bit farther from the entrance of the house and the jeep, lighting another dynamite and throw it at another group of phantoms. You walk back a bit so you don’t get exploded but don’t hear Ashlyn yelling for you to watch out when a phantom sneaks up on you. Your eyes widen and you shine a flashlight on it but you stumble back and start to hear loud ringing in your ears. You feel a warm liquid run from your upper leg. You look down and see a huge gash in your leg, maling you scream. You cough as dust and ash starts to fly around from the explosion. You sob and crawl closer to the jeep, seeing that phantoms were getting into the house; “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whisper to yourself and sob, sitting down next to the jeep, keeping an eye out for your surroundings. You tie your wound with a ripped piece of your pants and groan in pain as it tightens around your leg. You see everyone get out of the house and Tylers eyes widen when he sees you laying there, bleeding. “Holy shit, Y/N!” He yells and picks you up, everyone getting into the jeep fast as phantoms start to swarm the car. You sob into his shoulder as Taylor applies more pressure to your wound.

Everyone gets out of the car once Ash swerves into the graveyard and get you out of the car. Sobs and sniffles were heard as you cried your heart out from the pain. Tyler had your head in his lap and brushed hair from your face. He whispered sweet nothing into your ear and things like “It’s almost over.” “You’re doing great mi vida.” making you relax just a bit. Ashlyn was stitching your wound and that was the worst pain ever. “Okay, it’s done.” Ashlyn says and packs up the first aid kit, cleaning the blood off your leg and leaves so you and Tyler can be alone for a bit. You try and sit up but your arms give out, making you fall back into his lap. He puts an arm under your shoulder and lifts you up so you can sit next to him. He looked worried but had his brows furrowed and also looked a bit angry. He was mumbling curses in Spanish and sometimes mumbling something about the phantoms.

You lay your head on his chest and he kisses your head letting you rest after that traumatic event. You smile and start to talk; “Sorry, I should’ve been more careful.” You say and he chuckles a bit; “Yeah you should’ve, but things happen and you’re so brave for getting through that.” He says making you smile. “I should’ve been there to help although I probably would have made things worse, but still you get the point.” You nod and he stays silent for a while before he speaks up again; “I’m glad you’re okay, you really did such a good job at protecting us and don’t you think other wise you hear me?” He says in a stern voice and you nod, chuckling. “Yeah, yeah, if you think so.” You say and he pulls you closer “I know so.” He says and kisses your soft lips, making you forget all of the pain you once felt.

[nctstar]

poly! nct 127 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ threesome ver.

hard dom members x sub reader

pairing: nct 127 x fem!reader

word count: 2.6k

genre: smut

warnings: sexual content so minors please dni! everything is consensual, hard dom members, heavy degradation and bsdm content (don't read if triggering), safeword discussed, oral (male and female receiving), rough penetrative sex (unprotected, please be safe irl), manhandling, hair pulling, painplay + impact play (whipping), face slapping + spanking, squirting, fingering, clitoral stimulation, double penetration (same hole), a lot of crying, begging, sexual punishment, daddy kink, kissing, anal (female receiving), multiple orgasms + overstimulation, intense orgasms, mentioning ex during sex, handjob, hand over mouth (female receiving), profanity, (everything is really messy idk how to write this so you hopefully get what i mean)

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. everything is consensual and safewords/limits have been discussed prior to the scene - sex is only sex when it's fun for both parties, please keep this in mind <3

a/n: EDIT haechan was paired with a past member of nct 127 and so that section has been removed.

so um...here's this. I was running on matcha coffee 3 hours of sleep and 2 episodes of pretty little liars all before 9am yesterday when something in my body just felt COMPELLED to write this, so here it is :D also labyrinth ch 2 is COMINGG i just need time to write it in a good way, but i've planned the entire thing and am excited to see how it ends up. also, i've decided to make poly! nct a series, not quite sure if i'll keep the same pairings or how this will work but it won't only be smut, i plan to write lots of different types of scenarios for them. anyways, love you, bye for now xx

Mark & Taeyong ~ Thighs slipping against each other, water dripping down to your ankles as you stumbled towards Taeyong’s parted legs. “Bend over.” He commanded, but you felt the shove before you could, pushing you forward with a gasp. Mark’s open hand now pressing down on the shallow bend of your back, he toyed with the strings of your bikini bottom, chuckling darkly at your every whine. Taeyong grabbed your chin roughly, forcing your face inches away from his. You winched as his grip tightened, hard enough to leave bruises. “Fucking slut.” Your heart hammered as you felt the cold air hit your now bare core and ass, Mark squeezing the plush of your behind as he groaned in pleasure. “Fuck, she’s so sexy.” He drawled. The panic began to quicken, pouring down your veins like ice water when you felt the wood-hard bulb of his dick press against your exposed hole. Eyes watering, you begged, not quite sure what you were begging for. “Please, please, p-please…” Mark slapped your ass in response, the tears now rolling down your cheeks as you cried out. Your vision whitened, side of your face stinging as Taeyong slapped you, twice, the edges of his ring marking a spot underneath your cheekbones. “Bend the fuck over. All the way.” You nodded as you cried, shutting your eyes as you held your ankles and let your head hang down, the blood rush making you delirious.

The pain and pleasure made your legs tremble, losing control of your body, gripping until you felt the bony edges of your ankles, moans ripping themselves from your throat as Mark bottomed out. “So big, please…” You gasped, as if his cock choked you from the inside. You babbled apologies, shaking your head when you heard the sound of Taeyong’s zipper above Mark’s sloppy thrusts. “Please, n-no…no more, I can-nghh,” you trailed off, feeling your own release grease your inner thighs, shame pooling in the bottom of your stomach. “We’re not done here, slut. No safe word means you still want this. Stupid whore.” Taeyong groaned as he pumped himself to his full hardness, watching you shakily squat down to the cold tiles, listening for any signs of protest. You stayed quiet, heaving, a sudden urge to let go as your head throbbed from your last orgasm. You felt Mark wrap one arm around your lower stomach, pressing down hard and lifting you off the ground. You squealed, trying to push his arm away, the muscles bulging underneath his skin. “You’re too rough with m-me…” Your knees hit the cold tiles as Taeyong pushed his length into your mouth, another hand holding you in place and gripping your hair tight. “Can you cum like this? Hmm?” Your head spun, pussy throbbing from the humiliation, Mark’s legs now caging your body as you stared up at Taeyong, cock bruising the back of your throat. Your pleas were lost around his length as Mark began to press his fingertips into your scalp, making you sob. “What’s the matter? Too rough?” He teased, his laugh searing into your brain. You pressed your thighs together as something sent you over the edge, making you spray all over the tiles like a rabid animal. As you gasped for air, Taeyong kept thrusting in your mouth, groaning as he came, moonlight hitting the sheen on his skin as you swallowed every last drop.

Jaehyun & Johnny~ “Faster, sweetie.” His words dripped sticky like honey in the shell of your ear. Your legs wobbled, biting your lip so hard you tasted rusted metal. With Jaehyun’s semi-hard cock nestled inside of you, you tried to grind your hips quicker, earning a satisfied groan from Johnny. “Good girl.” You moaned in pleasure, shockwaves of euphoria running through your body, but moments later, Johnny gripped you around the waist, fingers digging harshly into the plush of your sides. “But not fast enough.” You whimpered, knowing what comes next. Jaehyun brought one arm up to wrap around your shoulders, pulling your face into the crook of his neck. As you shook your head, he shushed you quietly. “Wanna use your safe word?” You shook your head, and Jaehyun held you tighter against him, the fingers of his other hand travelling down to press down on your clit. “Such a nasty little doll for us to fuck.” You moaned when he sped up, tears flowing down your cheeks as you came. “So quick to cum too. Open.” You thought he meant open your eyes, so it took you by surprise when he pressed his fingers past your slightly parted lips, pressing down on your tongue until drool ran down your chin. “Silly girl.”

Your body jerked when you felt the thick tip of Johnny’s cock press against you. You gazed pleadingly at Jaehyun, as if to beg for mercy. “Can’t even use our cocks right. Gotta do all the work ourselves. Stupid girl.” You buried your face into Jaehyun as the heat of embarrassment blossomed across your face, but Johnny wasn’t having it. One quick wrap around his wrist and your head was yanked back, scalp burning from the impact, stray strands of hair falling limply across your face. “What do you say, hmm?” The stretch burned deliciously as he continued to push inside you, tucking himself right next to Jaehyun, so good you forgot how to breathe. “Mnghh, y-yes, s-so good, please, please, Daddy, l-love it, love being stuffed…” Your mouth slackened as an unexpected orgasm rendered you numb. When your senses returned, you felt Jaehyun grind his hips upwards in smooth, fluid, quick snaps, while Johnny pounded you from the back. You cried as you felt another orgasm be torn from you, piece by piece. “F-fuck, oh my god!” Johnny’s arms wrapped around your neck, your fingernails tearing at his biceps for air as you squirted hard over both of them. “Please, Daddy, can’t-“ As he released you, letting you fall onto Jaehyun’s toned torso, you cried, stuttering in between shaky breaths. “T-thank, you, thank you…”

Jungwoo & Yuta~ You couldn’t see anything, but you knew it was him. You’d recognise his lips anywhere, tongue slithering up inside you like snakes. “J-Jungwoo.”

You heard the whip crack before you felt it, a diagonal line on your back, white-hot pain seeping into your body. You fought a sob as Jungwoo kissed your neck, the lips on your core still sucking and kissing your sensitive folds. “Wrong.”

He waited for you to give you the all-clear, to nod, letting him know you were still good to continue before he left your side, and it was silent again.

You yelped in surprise as you felt someone nip at your chest, one hand pressing your back to keep you still. You whimpered, the sudden jolts of pain making your body writhe under his arms. “Y-yuta.”

You were released immediately, but your breathing remained laboured. For a second you thought you were wrong again, and you held your breath, squeezing your eyes even though you were blindfolded. “Correct. Last one.” You felt your head be yanked back by your hair, making you yelp. “A-ah, it hurts…” You feel something rub against your lips, the shape and texture making you quickly realise it was a cock. You whimpered involuntarily, knowing this one would make or break this game. You swirled your tongue around the end, sucking on the tip, kissing blindly around the shaft, your lips meeting the softer skin of the balls as you did. “Jungwoo.” You continued kissing, sucking, bringing your hands up to cup his balls, and that’s when you heard him groan. “Fuck. So filthy, isn’t she, Yuta?”

He laughed, and you felt the air between your legs. He sucked your clit, making you moan onto Jungwoo’s length. “A-ah, feels good…” Yuta hummed into your core. “Filthy sluts like you…” he kissed you, “…deserve…” he swirled his tongue inside you, holding your knees down when they rebounded upwards to move away from his mouth, “to cum over, and over…” You came with a cry as he sucked relentlessly, but you were cut off by Jungwoo pushing his cock inside you, making you gag noisily. “If you like my cock so much, let me give it to you.” Dizzy with relief, Jungwoo lay you on your back, the sheets slipping against your bare skin as you slid your body upwards. Yuta held you down, pressing your stomach into the mattress, watching as your back arched off the sheets rhythmically, tits rolling with each movement. “S-so good, fuck, f-fuck…” Your legs felt like jelly as Jungwoo held your face in place, the new angle over you allowing him to thrust in your mouth, the weight of gravity making his cock heavier than usual. Balls slapping against your chin, you felt it bulge in your throat, wrapping your fingers around yourself to feel it slip in and out of you. He pulled out slowly, a slurry of coughs and moans filling the air as you felt yourself cum onto Yuta’s face, his fingers rubbing the inside of your knees to ground you. You babbled incoherently, not knowing whether you wanted Yuta to stop, for Jungwoo to leave. The tip of Jungwoo’s cock on your lips brought to back to Earth. “Give me a kiss.” You kissed him diligently. “Y-yes sir, love this c-cock so much…” He came all over your ruined face to finish the job, just as you felt Yuta press himself inside you, sensitive clit screaming from the stretch.

Doyoung & Jaehyun~ “Stop, s-stop…” Jaehyun halted his fingers as you shuffled your bare body on his satin pants, pressing your legs together to centre yourself in the midst of your post-orgasmic haze. “Already came.” Jaehyun leant his head over your shoulder, bringing your naked body closer to his. “I know, sweetie. Wanna see you make another mess…” He brought his hands closer to your core, watching and waiting for you to protest. You didn’t. You were watching Doyoung, watching the way his shirt hung off him desperately, inches of his body peeking out from under the fabric. “Like what you see?” You moaned unexpectedly when Jaehyun dug his fingers inside you, running his fingers across your spongy walls. “A-ah…” Your mouth hung open, the pleasure more intense than before. Doyoung walked across to tilt your chin upwards, wrapping his fingers around your jaw while his thumb ran across your swollen bottom lip. “What was that you said about your ex? How he made you finish so hard you had to throw away your sheets?” The implications of his words somehow made that knot in your stomach tighten, every stroke of Jaehyun’s fingers now bringing you to the edge of euphoria. “Answer me.” He squeezed your cheeks as you made guttural noises, your orgasm hitting you at once. Jaehyun sped up his fingers, not caring when he felt your insides grip him like a vice, as it begging him to slow down. The slap of his palm against your clit was brutal, and Doyoung pressed his open palm against your mouth. “If you’re not gonna answer me, then you don’t deserve to speak, whore.” Tears sprung to your eyes as you grabbed at Doyoung’s wrist, pleading. He watched you carefully. “Nod if you remember the signal that replaces the safeword.” You nodded eagerly, and he stepped closer to you, his other hand now pushing the back of your head into his palm, holding your head in place.

“Finish me off. Hurry up.” You grabbed at his pants, the silky fabric slipping away as you wrapped your hands around his length. He groaned, bringing your head to his stomach as he let go of your mouth, letting you breathe into his stomach. “Good girl. Stay quiet now.” You whimpered, losing count of the times you had already came. Jaehyun pulled his fingers out, pressing onto your clit now. You lifted your head off Doyoung. “Nghh, wait, not there…” Doyoung smacked your head in warning, making tears spring to your eyes. “This is why you haven’t squirted yet. We’re too nice to you. Always listening to you, treating you like a princess. When all you are is a dirty whore.” His words made the tears run down your face, but you were turned on more than ever. Jaehyun sucked at your neck aggressively, his voice deep and sonorous. “We’re not finished until you’ve squirted hard enough to ruin these pants. Then once again around my cock. And then around his.” You wailed, feeling your orgasm approach you in towering phases. “Ah, ah, feels w-weird, fuck, wait, I think I’m gon-“ You were cut off by Doyoung’s fingers, pressing inside you while Jaehyun drew circles on your clit. “Don’t fucking stop jerking me off. Don’t care if you’re cumming.” You threw your head back, quickening each flick of your wrist as you felt yourself reach your high, each cry more intense than the last. Legs shaking, you felt the wetness come out of you in quick bursts, fingers spreading it all over the three of you, through clothes and onto skin.  

[pyramid-of-starrs]

hongjoong getting at us mad because we hung out with a different kpop boy group nsfw ?😭idk it came to me because of how atinys make the joke of hongjoong hating how we stan other groups-

Only look at me

Jealous mean Dom Hongjoong x Afab reader

Summary: You get caught by Hongjoong coming back to your home from a late night concert and he has to remind you who's fan you're supposed to be.

Genre: Angst and Smut

Warnings: Acts of possessiveness, begging, kinda toxic but like not really lol

Smut warnings: Rough sex, use of sex toys, oral sex (M recieving), gagging, choking, friends with benefits, mentions of punishment, punishment sex, use of consentual force (Y/N have a preestablished agreement), Mean dom Hongjoong, slapping, cum eating, throat fucking, condom sex, Sir kink??, pain kink??, Humilitation??, Degrading??

A/N: Idk what it is about Hongjoong but like, every fic I write about him he's getting his dick sucked, idk he just deserves that.

Minors dni

You walked into your loft around 3 am, you dropped your clear tote bag, and took off your shoes, the living room was dark, you turned on the light and were startled to see your best friend Hongjoong sitting on your couch with his leg folded over the other and his arms crossed.

"Jesus fucking Christ Hongjoong you scared the hell out of me, why are you just sitting in my house in the damn dark?!" You yelled, still shaken up while holding your fast-beating chest.

"You're coming home late." was all he replied, you didn't ask why he was here again because Hongjoong often randomly appeared at your house every since he got the spare key in case of emergencies.

"Yeah, I was out with my friends."

"Doing what?" He tilted his head slightly. "I'm your friend, your best friend to be exact, why didn't I know about this friend outing?"

"Uh- well, ya know it was... um... preplanned." You scratched your head then tried to slyly slide your clear tote bag behind you.

"That's not your normal purse, why the sudden change?" He questioned.

"Oh um, the place we went to searches bags so I figured I'd save myself the hassle, haha." You awkwardly giggled as you felt yourself caving under pressure.

"You still haven't told me where this place is Y/N." The look in his eyes were like daggers.

"Fine... me and some friends went to the Stray Kids concert tonight." you cracked.

"Oh! How fun! but it's" He checks his Apple watch. "3:47 am Y/N, in all my years of doing concerts I've never known them to end that late." He said sarcastically.

"Well...um." You stuttered and he rolled his eyes.

"Spit it out Y/N"

"Chan saw us in the crowd and remembered me from when you introduced us and he invited us out for drinks and food-"

"Ooooh drinks AND food, well damn you have had a full night huh?" The sarcasm was very evident.

"Hongjoong don't be like that."

"Like what? I just thought you said that you didn't need to see any other group besides Ateez since we are the best. Yet here you are."

"My friend bought the tickets." you sigh.

"And what did you do while you were out for food and drinks until 3 am." His eyes narrowed.

You stood there in silence choosing not to answer and avoid all eye contact.

"Come here Y/N." he stood up.

You walked over to him slowly then stood in front of him.

"Get on your knees." You stood there now listening for a moment. "Now!" You chose not to prolong it since he was already clearly mad, you got down and kneeled on both your knees on the cold hardwood floor, luckily you had on knee highs so it wasn't too bad. Hongjoong got closer to you and stood above you as he looked down on you with his arms folded you looked at him with pleading eyes hoping he would take a little mercy on you. "Get to it Y/N." you knew you were royally fucked. Though you two were only "friends" you and Hongjoong had a few established understandings, one of them being that you couldn't enjoy any other group except Ateez or he could punish you in any way he saw fit. At first, it was things like pinches or forehead flicks but then the punishments started to become things like standing in front of him with your clothes off or letting him edge you for hours on end. You weren't complaining, sometimes you would purposely get caught with another group's albums or merch so that he could punish you.

You started to undo his pants and zipper while trying to maintain eye contact, you pulled his hands down then his briefs to reveal his half-hardened dick.

"I'm sorry Jongie." you said still trying to get out of the punishment, he grabbed the base of his dick and the back of your head and shoved his cock down your throat causing you to gasp audibly, he held his dick there as it pulsed in your mouth.

"I don't want to fucking hear it." He had no remorse for you as he started to fuck your throat, you could feel his dick getting harder and harder as it became harder to breathe from your mouth the deeper he would go. "You shouldn't have done it if you were going to be sorry, now you have to pay the price." He lectured you as you continued to gag on his length while his hips never stopped, his thighs hit your chin, that's just how deep he was going.

"I won't do it again." was muffled from your very occupied mouth and it just irritated him more, he sped up the pace he was going, your throat was already sore from the screaming but him fucking it made it worse, the sting from your punishment was exhilarating.

He kept his grip on your hair with one hand then moved his other hand to your nose as he clamped it closed, cutting off your only airway left to use. "You promise you won't do it again?" he asked. You gagged more as you started to choke from your lack of air, he didn't care, he kept moving his hips to fuck his dick in and out of your throbbing throat. You nodded to his question and he released your nose, you thought you were in the clear until he cocked his hand back a bit and delivered a smack on your cheek, you whimpered around his cock and he returned his fingers to your nose to pinch it closed again. "I can't hear you." he said in a mocking tone. You muffled out a yes that was barely understandable as mascara tears started to run down your face, he released your nose once again and you started to take large breaths through it, he once again smacked your sensitive cheek, the sting was amazing.

"I said do you fucking promise?" He said as he pulled his dick from your mouth and looked down at you with a slightly scary face while he angled your head up to make sure you two made eye contact.

"Yes, I promise." You cried out, and he smiled.

"Good job, stick your tongue out." You opened your mouth wide then stuck your tongue out, he placed the tip of his dick on your tongue and stroked himself a few times before the hot ropes of his cum started to cover your tongue. "Now swallow all of it." You closed your mouth and swallowed every drop of his cum, even licking your lip gloss-covered lips to get the remaining off, you showed him your tongue to get his stamp of approval. "Strip and go to the bedroom, but crawl since you like to bark for other men like a horny little bitch in heat."

"Yes sir." You nodded then reached for your shirt to pull it off while he watched you slowly get naked to tease him, you stood there naked before getting on your hands and knees and crawling down the hall to your bedroom, Hongjoong watched you as he followed behind you, his eyes watching you made you wetter. Your slick spread all over your core and thighs, watching was making Hongjoong eager to drill you, once you reached the bed you sat on your knees waiting on his next command.

"On the bed dog."  he commanded, you got on top of the bed, sitting on your knees once again. "Lay on your back with your knees up." you laid back and bent your knees, Hongjoong removed the remainder of his clothes but walked over to the nightstand to get something out of the top drawer, before you could look over to see what he had he climbed on top on you and positioned himself between your legs, he ripped open a condom and you whined. "Shut up, cheater sluts like you don't get to get fucked raw." He didn't waste time and lined his tip up with your sex and put it in. You moaned as he pushed deeper into you, he held the back of your legs and you could feel him holding something hard as he kept a consistent pace inside of you.

"It feels so good Joongie." you moaned.

"Wanna feel even better baby?" He asked with a devious smirk on his face, though you didn't trust him you still nodded your head and closed your eyes to enjoy the feeling, you suddenly heard a loud buzzing sound and as soon as your eyes fluttered back open you saw Hongjoong was placing your vibrating egg right on your clit. By reflex your legs tried to snap closed and you yelped Hongjoong smiled watching you squirm about.

"Fuck, fuck, what, it's too much-" you yelled, he started to go faster while drawing circles on your clit with the egg and biting his bottom lip.

"Aw is that how you were screaming at your little concert?" Curse words and incoherent pleas fell from your lips as he pushed the egg further onto your clit, your head was all the way into the pillow. "What? You can't talk now huh? Spending all that time talking and laughing with them that you're too tired to talk?" He thrust harshly, the tip of his dick hitting your spot hard repeatedly, your fingers began to curl, and you could hear him laughing at you.

"Fuck Joong, Fuck." Was all you could say before your body started to shake, your eyes rolled back as you gripped the sheets hard, your pussy tightened around Hongjoong as liquid erupted out of you, Hongjoong smiled as he looked over the mess he made of you but he needed to push you more, punish you even further. Before you could catch your breath or get cleaned up Hongjoong turned the egg up to full speed and pushed it back onto your clit, you loudly moaned at the sudden fast pace vibrations on your already sensitive nub.

"Please- please, please, please, no more, no more." you pleaded you could hardly catch your breath, especially with his dick still inside you. He started to roll his hips into you until he was full-on fucking you again, you were fucked out and overstimulated as your clit began to ring, you placed one hand on his stomach and he shot daggers at you once again.

"Take your fucking hand away Y/N." He said in a stern and deep voice, you lowered your hand and sat there and took it, the sensation of his dick and the egg was overwhelming but felt amazing. "If you want me to stop, beg for my forgiveness."

"Pleeeease nghhh~ Please I'm so-rry, please, sorry fuck-" You fumbled out, he pressed harder and fucked you deeper by leaning closer, you gripped his back and pulled him closer while your nails dug into him.

"Louder." His thrusting began to get more aggressive as he pounded into you deeply while holding the egg sloppily.

"Please, please, I'm sorry, please forgive me Hongjoong, I'll only look at you forever, fuck everyone else!" You yelled into his ear, and you once again squirted on him and the bed, your tight abused pussy squeezing Hongjoongs dick and this time earning his cum that filled the condom, he cursed as he pulled out and turned the toy off. He rolled and took a seat on the side of the bed to return everything to your night stand then got up to walk to the bathroom to throw the condom away.

You were stuck in your position for a second, as your body came down from your high you slowly started to sit up in the bed. "It's not fair! You know I like it when you fill me up." You could hear the bath faucet turning on before he walked back in.

"Then stop being bad, that's the only time you will get rewards." he leaned over to give you a peck on the cheek before helping you out of bed so he could walk you to the bathroom so you two could take a bath together, he always acts so sweet after being a demon. You went in first to pee then swung the door open when you were done.

"I wasn't being bad, I was going to a free concert... then getting free food and drinks after." You mumbled the last part to not rub salt in his wound.

"Well it wasn't free since you had to pay the price with me." you rolled your eyes, he got in first then you got in after him, the hot water soothed your tense body and burned the new scratches on Hongjoong's back.

"Jeez talking like that like I belong to you Joong."

"You do, you belong to me and only me, so only cheer and look at me... and I guess all of Ateez... but I better be your bias!"

You chuckled at him. "Yes sir"

[theteasetwrites]

Merciless Beauty

Chapter 11: You Are My Queen

❧ Pairing: Knight Daryl Dixon x Princess Reader ❧ Era: Medieval fantasy AU ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT (18+ MDNI)—missionary, unprotected PiV (do not endorse, wrap it up), "fucked dumb" (more like "fucked tired") if you squint, food stuff (... idk it gets messy. Honey is involved.) ❧ Word Count: 10.2k

❧ Before You Read...

❧ Glossary

❧ In This Chapter: After the defeat of Negan and his Saviors, you are confronted with the pain of what you've experienced, and you must confide in Daryl. Of course, the bittersweet moment becomes a reunion fit for lovers.

❧ A/N: Um so hi! You guys didn't think I was never gonna finish this did you? I mean I wouldn't blame you if you did, but I did it! I mean, I tried. I had a few different ideas for how to end the series, and then I realized that this isn't quite the end. I am going to write an "Epilogue" chapter that will just be wrapping up everything with Ezekiel and basically the princess telling her dad about Daryl. But for now, this is the end! Now I gotta focus on Begin Again now that I finally have this done(ish). Hope you guys like it, and thank you for waiting <3

Far from the carnage and warfare, miles away in a secluded wood, the hearth burned brightly, illuminating the small cottage in a warm glow that seemed so distinct from the deep, dark night that surrounded outside. 

The scarlet wound on his thigh bubbling with vinegar and wine, you held a wooden spoonful of warmed honey, letting it drip slowly over the clean injury. After the bath you’d given him, he wore nothing, save for the loose drawstring braies of linen that reached just above his knee. 

Your delicate fingers spread the translucent liquid gold over the surrounding skin. Out of the corner of your eye, you kept note of his visage. Though his face was relaxed, and softened by the warm glow of the fire, he was stoic. No matter how you treated his wound, he did not flinch, or so much as show any signs of discomfort or pain. 

As you wrapped his leg with a clean gauze, you spoke to him, cutting through the silence that had settled between you for the last several minutes. 

“Does it not hurt?” you asked softly, barely above a whisper. 

“No,” he replied simply, though that was not entirely true. The blade had been the worst hurt of it, but now, it was only a dull sting. Perhaps so much pain in his life had heightened his tolerance, or dulled his sense. 

In fact, the sensation was pleasant. All he could really feel was the soft pads of your fingers gently spreading the liquid over his skin, the honey acting as a soothing agent after the cleansing properties of the wine and vinegar had settled into the open wound. 

Wrapping the last bit of gauze around his thigh, you gently folded the linen of his braises back over, a soft puff of air escaping your lips all the while. 

“You are brave,” you said, your eyes lifting with a gentle flutter of your lashes. 

With a shift of your legs from underneath you, you carefully replaced the spoon of honey into its jar, setting it aside upon the floor next to you. It felt good to no longer be upon your feet, now bandaged and clean after Daryl had so adamantly insisted that you let him do so. Now, though, you’d tend to him, after everything he’d done for you that night. 

But with the fortitude of a true knight, he did not show pain nor pride. He did not bask in any glory or relish in his victory. He did not shed a tear, his limp as he walked not slowing him down or keeping him from getting you to the safety of the cottage. Not only was he brave, but he was humble. The man you’d once called a sorry excuse for a knight had turned out to be a paragon of gallantry, though he never had to prove that to you. You’d known the error of your words since he returned to you that night so many moons ago, promising to take you beyond the walls without payment or worldly reward.

That seemed worlds away now. The way you’d looked at him then was a far cry from now, when before you was the embodiment of the greatest warmth and sweetness you’d ever felt. The swell in your chest had cut your breath short for a moment, while the knight shifted on the floor cushion upon which he sat, leaning forward to pull you closer by your hands, until you were cradled in his arms, your body curled up upon his lap and your head resting against his bare chest. 

That was when your breath came back, the soothing motions of his hands caressing your sides reminding you of the safety he gave you now. Negan was no more, the Saviors were no more, and soon, your father and the surviving militia would meet you here, but now, there was nothing in this world except him, and you. 

When time just began to crumble away, your eyes heavy with the promise of sleep, you were brought back to the surface of consciousness by his voice, steady and low.

“You are brave.”

A puff of amused air escaped your lips, though you did not contradict him, only listened as he spoke, that voice of his more soothing than the honey on his wound. 

“You killed Negan.” 

Though you could not regret your actions, you shivered at the thought of that moment, the knife driving into his back, the feeling of the blade tunneling through tissue and finally puncturing his frozen heart. It made you cling tighter to his chest, as if to cower from the memory that haunted you in the back of your mind. 

“If you hadn’t, I would not be here now, holding you.”

Indeed, that was what he was made for―holding you, serving you. Just as you clung tighter to him, he held you with more strength, not out of fear that you’d be taken from him again, but out of sheer devotion. 

“And I owe you my life.”

“No,” you replied, almost startling him as you lifted your head. As if by instinct, he held your chin softly, the calloused pad of his thumb stroking its soft skin in short, but slow, back and forth motions. “There is nothing that you owe to me. Certainly not your life.”

Though you remained stern in your expression of earnestness, his lips curled into a gentle smile. 

“I owe you everything. My life’s devoted to serving you, you know that.”

But as you looked at him, his eyes so full of love and hope for the future he had with you, there was still a hesitation inside you. It was like a parasite, worming its way inside your heart to keep you from fully embracing the comfort he brought you. It had not held such an effect on you, until now. Now that you could comprehend it, the hideous guilt that troubled you so. 

He could see it in your eyes now, too, as evidenced by his smile fading and his eyes, still filled with that same love, growing dim with concern. 

“What is it?”

To keep it from him would only cause more abject pain, but to hurt him, to tell him of the betrayal that you believed you had committed against him. How could you go on, now that the thought of that man’s cold, slimy hands all over you would not let you rest in the arms of the man who truly loved you?

And if you told him, would he rebuff you, disavow his love for you and never even hold you again? 

“Nothing,” you said, but the quiver in your slowly faltering voice betrayed you, and the feeling of a cold, dead hand strangled around your heart made you shiver. He brought you closer to his chest, where warmth briefly tore you from the icy snare of guilt and shame. It was only a temporary respite, though. The only way to rid yourself of this regret was to tell him. 

Another man’s mouth had been on yours, the salty, bitter taste of which you swore still lingered and made a mockery of your once pure lips. You’d truly never felt that Daryl had ever taken any purity from you. In fact, he made you more pure, but the bitterness of Negan’s filthy tongue had sullied you, you believed, and now you were nothing more than a broken woman, despite how whole you felt when he held you in his arms.

“Tell me,” he said, with that eerie whisper of knowing on his breath. Even the soothing circular movements of his splayed out hand on the small of your back were made with careful concern. Indeed, he knew that whatever troubled you must have been to do with what had transpired within the last week. 

Afterall, the blot of watercolor black and blue around your eye gave him an inkling, one which made anger well up in him like molten lava bubbling to the surface, igniting him with a kind of rage that was strong enough to bring that scum of a man back to life just to slice his head clean off a second time. And, oh, would he do it again if he had the chance, just to know, again and again and again, that the man who tormented his princess could never bring more harm to her, or anyone else.

“Daryl, I…” 

Your words having fizzled out into thin air, you shook your head and loosened yourself from his arms, as though you were unworthy of their embrace. The more you thought of that night, the more you believed that to be true.

“What happened?” he asked, his body beginning to stiffen as he mirrored you—both of you frozen in fear of whatever you would say, if you would say anything at all.

For a moment, he felt both weightless and heavy, in some kind of strange limbo wherein worry overtook his physicality before any words could confirm the worst of his fears. It washed the color from his face, where once a warm pink had blossomed from the feeling of the nearby hearth and your body so close to his, once again, after everything that had happened. 

Now, he could only begin to think of the heinous things that could’ve been done to you… Knowing how Negan had looked at you, how he touched you that night of the joust. There was something sinister in his eyes then, and now, there was a similar dread in your expression as you looked away from him, eyelids heavy and head downturned.

With a gentle hand on your shoulder, his instinct to hold you too strong to completely ignore without at least a single touch, he began to speak again—voice quiet yet raspy. 

“Did he… did he touch you?”

Of course, he had, but what Daryl meant by his words seemed deeper than their surface level definition. The vitriol in his voice, the sting of the word touch, which once might have been so much more beautiful on his lips, was palpable, lacerating your heart further. If it wasn’t for the pain of the guilt, you would still feel the hurt of the sadness in his voice. 

You raised your eyes to meet his, though his face was blurred in the haze of your tears. A kind of shocked concern shaped his expression as he held your cheek with so much delicateness, as though you were but an assemblage of rose petals sewn together with gossamer twine.

He spoke your name now, low and almost a whisper. There was something so earnest about that, the way he called you only by your name and nothing else. No title, no epithet. Just you, just a woman, but not just a woman at all—a woman for whom he’d give the skin off his back to keep warm. 

With his fingers laced delicately through your hair, he begged you with his eyes, glassy and clear, almost translucent to the point you swore you could see his soul bared before you. Even just in his stare, he made himself vulnerable to you, and soon, whatever fear you had of him turning on you melted under that comforting, warm gaze. Just for a moment, you gave in, and used your tongue to forcibly tear out the words that were stuck in your throat. 

But still, you could not look at him as you spoke.

“Yes, he…” Your voice trailed off, followed by a deep breath of air you’d hoped would give you the strength to continue, but it only brought forth the tears that threatened to give way.

Two big arms encircled you hesitantly, slowly enough to allow you to break free had you not craved his touch, but his touch was all that could give you peace now. No further questions were needed, he surmised. He wasn’t sure he could even bear to know more of what was done to you, so he kept you in his grasp, which you did not fight. 

With a shaky voice, he spoke against your cheek as he held onto you. Your head found a cradle in his shoulder, where tears wetted his bare skin. On his breath was a gentle shhh sound, like a light breeze rustling the leaves of an ancient oak in cool night air. It comforted you, along with the steady motion of his hands on your back, moving in slow, languid circles. 

But no longer could you only contain your emotions to your sobs. Now, you raised your head and faced him, looking him sharply in the eye despite the pain that singed your heart with each syllable:

“I had a plan,” you began. “I… I only wanted to get close to him. He called me to his chambers… I had a knife. I let him touch me…” Once again, you could no longer hold his gaze. You continued on, now tripping over your own words as you scrambled to explain, through a tear-soaked voice that trembled in fear of whatever reaction you’d receive. “Only just with his lips… His filthy lips. Then as soon as I could, I tried to stab him. I swear, all I wanted was to get close to him, long enough to kill him.”

The knight only looked at you with a steady gaze, one that only softened with each passing moment. You felt his arms tighten around you, and you weren’t sure if it was an attempt to comfort you, or to suffocate you. Either way, you would’ve died a thousand times to feel that touch.

But you longed most of all, now, to know exactly what he was thinking. To hear those words you knew must’ve been brewing inside that head of his—those words that would crush you under the weight of their rebuke. Though those words never came, no shame or disappointment, only another kind of pain in his eyes. A pain that was born of your sadness as each tear you shed sent a new wave of agony through his aching body.

Shakily, you whispered to him, pleading in all but words for him to tell you how much he hated you for betraying him, for letting another man touch you. “My love… Won’t you end my suffering and speak to me?”

At times, Daryl’s movements carried more meaning that any service his vocal cords could provide. All he could do in that moment was hold you by your cheeks, his thumbs meandering in circles to gently rub the tears into your skin. 

And, finally, he did speak, but his words caught you off guard far more than you thought possible. 

“What are you afraid of, princess?”

Afraid of?

“I… I do not understand.”

“The look in your eyes, the fear. You look afraid of me. Why?”

You swallowed back the lump in your throat as you shook your head, both in denial and in confusion. “I do not fear you.”

Quite the contrary, you wanted nothing more for him to hold you until your heart gave out. 

“I—I fear that you will detest me,” you continued, now trying desperately to let your tears drown out your words. “I fear I’ve betrayed you.”

In your mind, you had, and Daryl would have had every right to leave you now: alone and pitiful. Though he didn’t. He only kept his eyes on yours, and though you had a shameful urge to look away, you could not tear your gaze from his. There was no spite in his eyes, no bitterness or loathing. Not even anger. 

All you could see in his eyes was the same gentleness, the same kindness and utter servitude that he devoted to you with each passing moment his eyes took you in. That sentiment had always been there, nothing had changed, no matter what you could say. It would never change. There was no enmity there, only the strength of his love for you. 

His hands held your cheeks still, pulling you gently closer until his forehead softly touched yours. The feeling made you shudder, as though still you could never fully comprehend the sensation his touch gave to you. You were sure that you would never get quite used to that feeling, though you never wanted to. That sense of novelty was a pleasant sensation all on its own. 

“My princess,” he said, his grainy voice barely above a whisper as his nose touched yours. His lips began to upturn ever so slightly into the softest smile, natural and sweet. “There’s nothin’ you could do to make me think that.” 

As you shuddered a shaky breath, he held you closer still. You let out a heavy sigh, one that felt like it had been lingering deep inside you ever since you escaped the Sanctuary.

“You’re trembling,” he said, running his coarse fingertips along the exposed skin of your neck, until his hand met the loose neckline of his chemise that you borrowed, draped over you more like a dress than a shirt as the oversized garment reached just below your thighs. He leaned back to look at you, still sniffling back tears. With a strong hand, he swept back your hair to nestle it in the warm crevice behind your ear. 

“You cold?” he asked, already beginning to tug a blanket from under a nearby cushion. “Here—”

“No.” Your suddenness nearly startled him. It reminded you just how fragile he was, no matter how reluctant he was to show it. “I’m all right.”

Daryl knew, though, that you still could not shake the guilt, like a vulture’s ravenous gnawing at your heart. He knew you too well, so well that it almost frightened him. There was no one else with whom he could see through, whose transparency reflected a deep, intrinsic understanding beyond conscious comprehension. The depths of you were overwhelming, but he could never fight the profound urge to navigate them, despite the sadness that his love’s empathy could bring.

With a deep breath of his own, he brought you back to his lap. The ease with which he could manipulate your body with the most gentle yet sudden caress would never fail to momentarily paralyze you. You melted into his arms once again. It was only a matter of time before you became completely at his mercy, though there was absolutely no part of you that protested, except maybe that last shred of guilt. 

“You know I love you,” he said. “You know I serve you.” You must have broken out into a smile, because he, too, smiled. “And you know that you’re here now. You’re alive. Whatever you did to get here, whatever I did to get here… They’re sacrifices—risks.”

You found your hands returning to his body, their place on his broad, firm shoulders solidified like indentations in concrete. Swallowing hard, you felt a chill run through you, but it was not from the fear of losing him now—it was the effect of his touch, his hands having found their way beneath the shirt he lent you, sprawled out over your back, stroking in gentle rhythms. 

“Daryl.” Your voice seemed to crumble under the pressure of the air that you spoke shakily into, the utterance of his name so delicate upon your trembling lips. “What I did, it haunts me. Perhaps you can forgive me, but how will I forgive myself, when I let that man—”

He did not let you utter another word before he interrupted, his own voice soft with sympathy. How he could remain so patient with you in this state, you would never know.

“I know your heart, I know you.” Now he all but forced your weary head to rest upon his chest, where the gentle beating of his heart warmed your cheek. “The only anger I have is for the man who touched you, not you.”

But still, it was hard for you to forget. The only cure to that ailment seemed to be Daryl’s touch, his assurance that he loved you beyond what words could convey. You needed his touch, but not just skin to skin. There was more, a lingering desire that floated between you perpetually, yet was stronger now than ever before. 

It was a desire that penetrates, that longs to be penetrated. The kind that only lovers of the truest caliber could satisfy in the company of one another, the company which you had been deprived of for far too long. 

The pestilence Sir Negan left for you to wallow in would only be destroyed by the greatest expression of love—that which made all pain and sorrow and suffering pale in comparison to the feeling of knowing that your heart was in the safe hands of no one else but him, your lover. 

Your knight. 

When silence overcame you, he uttered your name softly against one cheek, while his hand delicately brushed over the other. If he touched you anywhere else, you might crumble into a million pieces, like an ancient Grecian statue carved from the most fragile marble. 

Only the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth could be heard against your soft breaths caressing the shell of his ear, while your hands crept carefully up his chest, brushing over the creases of his underarms to grasp at his shoulders. They felt so hard, so firm and unbreakable. You held them tighter now, and in response, he tightened his arms around your waist to bring you ever closer, until your lips found his.

The kiss was tender, light, each of your lips dancing softly over the other’s. With a tilt of his head and a brief respite, he caught your lips again, this time more firmly, yet still somehow cautious. 

Perhaps he’d never grow completely forthcoming in his lust for you, which seemed almost sacrilegious, yet somehow sacred. He knew that he’d be killed for this, but how on God’s green earth was he going to keep his hands off you? How could any star up above in those vast, empyreal heavens compare to the gleam in your eyes when he uttered your name, each syllable dripping with honeyed cadence? How could the rich, melodic refrain of any skilled bard’s lute come close to the dulcet sighs that tickled his ears so delectably, almost tauntingly? How could there be anything more soft, more supple, than your body—that which occupied his thoughts far more often than he could ever truly admit? 

Even your scent roused his most lustful thoughts, that sweet citrusy musk entangled with heady notes of the most intoxicating rose, the petals of which could not compare to the plump, velvety lips he traced his work-worn thumb over now, parting them gently until a sliver of darkness formed, with just a flash of white where your teeth could be seen. 

Finally, those lips opened just a bit more to speak again. “I want to forget that night,” you said. “I want to forget everything that’s happened… besides you.”

Truly, nothing was of consequence to you now, but him. You wanted to be enveloped in him. To be absorbed in him. To be one with him.

If he hadn’t been so lost in the vibrant hue of your glittering eyes, speckled with sparks alight from the nearby hearth, he might’ve noticed the feeling of your hands exploring his bare chest, your palms melting against the buttery surface of those defined muscles. When the sparkle in your eye lost his attention, he did feel it—that soft touch with just a hint of something more… indecent.

With a slow, meandering movement, never taking those silvery blue eyes from yours, he took both of your hands in his, where they rested so delicately in the strong cradle of his warm palms. He brought them to his lips, the touch of which was so featherlight that you could barely even hear the sound of them pressing an ever so sweetly suggestive kiss to your hands. 

It was then that the chemise you wore slid slowly off your shoulder, its size much too big for your frame. With even just your collarbone and the slope of your neck now exposed, much to the delight of his increasingly wandering eyes, he knew there was no escape from the desperation you awakened in him. Only it was not just desperation, but the insatiable urge to provide for you the comfort you so needed. It was written clear as day in your eyes.

Even so, you could not let the heavy air between you go without another plea, though it seemed to him almost like a command—from a princess to a knight.

“Make me forget.”

And so he obliged, not with another kiss, but with a tight grip on your waist, lifting you until you sat upon his lap, where the heat of his center warmed the bare underside of your thighs. After he took a moment to gather his thoughts in the midst of his sudden haste, he did not keep you in that position for long. The feeling of your weight upon his lap was too divine, nearly too much. If he took you now with too much urgency, that which was so strong he could hardly hide it, he might reach the peak of his pleasure much too soon. 

So you were caught in a slight whirlwind for just a moment, in one last burst of quickness punctuated by a low, raspy rumble in his voice. Now you were laid out rather ungracefully, resting on piles of weaved woolen blankets and furs strewn loosely upon the floor. 

There was not as much hesitation now, having already seen your body in its most bare form. He lifted the chemise over your head with ease, and when the fabric no longer obscured your vision, you met his face—a gentle, almost unnoticeable curl of his lip. 

Above you, his eyes took their time roaming your chest, but not just your breasts. There was a delicateness to you everywhere—the slope of your collarbones, the way your shoulders rolled as you started to grow aroused, the pulsing of the strained tendons in your neck. 

But before he could bring his lips to kiss your neck as he so deliberately planned on doing, he noticed the now tipped over jar of amber-colored honey slowly dripping from the lip of the vessel onto the floor, not far from where your hair had been strewn about amidst the sudden movements of passion. Those same movements must’ve caused the nearby jar to lose its balance. 

Now brought to his attention, the silken honey seemed to shimmer with a warm, enticing glow. His heavy, blown-out eyes returned to your body, now with a sparkle of mischief, perhaps. You weren’t entirely sure, as you’d rarely seen such a quality in his gaze before.

In a trance of combined anticipation and confusion as the man held his half-naked body over yours, you looked up at him with innocent questioning. 

“My knight?” you asked quietly, your voice only a faint, fragile whisper, delicate as a butterfly’s wing. “You seem confounded.” A soft tickle of laughter trailed off from your voice. “Does something trouble you? You moved with such vigor only a moment ago.”

He was unsure of how to explain in words the idea that came to him then, though you seemed to have grown accustomed to his sometimes reticent nature. That would prove to work in his favor now, as he all but remained silent in response to your questioning, opting instead only to scoop a bit of honey onto his index and middle fingers, slowly removing them from the jar with a hefty glob of the sticky substance. 

You turned your head to watch in confusion, which quickly became concern.

“Does your wound need more honey? Does it hurt?”

“No,” he replied simply, with a more serious tone of lust to his deep, gravelly voice, the vibrations of which sent a fresh shiver down your spine. 

For several moments, you were held hostage by his gaze, which roamed down the expanse of your neck. Your heavy breathing told him what he needed to know—the way your chest heaved with each passing second. You craved him, more than ever before, perhaps. With each new breath, he swore he could hear a slight pleaing whimper just trailing behind. 

Without another moment’s hesitation, he brought his honey-drenched fingers to your lips, already slightly agape. 

But he did not want to force the liquid into your mouth, only to coat your lips in its sweetness. 

So he traced the shape of your lips, leaving behind a trail of gold sheen to glaze the soft, plump skin. Despite your slight disorientation, you allowed him to do as he pleased. After all, there was no other way to forget the pain of all that you’d experienced. No other way to be completely enveloped in the pleasure of love. 

Soon you could taste the honey seeping into your mouth, dripping slowly onto your tongue. It tasted sweet, of course, but as his lips gently pressed to yours, the taste seemed even sweeter. 

Between your lips was a sticky mess of warm sighs and saccharine wetness, with his tongue invading your mouth impatiently, swirling feverishly as your hands reached up to grasp at his shoulders. 

Your touch ignited a fire in him, deep in the pit of his stomach, from which a guttural moan melted into your mouth. 

And he knew there was more of your body that he needed, more skin he could drench in the warm nectar of the honey, more skin he could lick clean. 

A fragile sigh escaped your trembling lips as he separated himself from you abruptly, though the disappointment in your voice compelled him to return to your honeyed lips for just a moment to kiss them in an offer of apology for his momentary departure. 

He separated once more, leaning to the side to find the jar of honey, and immediately collecting another hefty, dripping glob of golden syrup. 

There was a shaky whimper in your voice when he trailed his honey-drenched fingers over your breast, circling slowly around the nipple. 

The more he applied to the soft tissue of your nipple, the more the substance globbed and began to drip slowly, like molasses, down the slope of your breast, making your back arch at the tickling sensation. 

The knight could only watch your breast become drenched in translucent golden liquid, the subtle scent tempting him to come closer, until you could feel his warm breath against your heaving chest. 

An absent-minded sigh escaped your quivering lips, with his name: “Daryl…”

Just as he heard it, his own name spoken on the wings of a swan’s breath, his flattened tongue caught a plump drip of gold slowly making its way down your breast.

He licked upwards then, reaching the hardened bud of your nipple, where his tongue circled eagerly now, yet with a slowness just enough to delay your pleasure, to properly torment you with his toying attention.

But his own temptation prompted him to take the whole sweetened nipple into his mouth, which craved above all else to taste every inch of you—the delicate, virtuous princess writhing naked underneath him as he made use of your body to the fullest extent of his desire.

With his mouth upon your aroused nipple, he suctioned his lips, now himself becoming too impatient to merely kiss the engorged flesh. 

The feeling sent your head reeling backwards against the pillow, with a low, breathy moan. Each kiss made you cry out louder, more impatiently as your body craved more of his kisses. 

But what he wanted was more honey.

So he took the jar again, this time tilting it so that the golden liquid began to drizzle in zigzag patterns over your chest, then your stomach.

Now you felt drenched in honey, sticky with it. Not to the point of discomfort, but amusement at his fascination with it, his tongue now licking up the trail.

You let out a quiet laugh, your voice low and sultry as you began to speak. “You’re making a mess of me.”

He did not stop lapping up at the drizzled honey, except to look up at you with a subtle mischief gleaming in his eyes of quicksilver blue for a few moments, long enough to say, “A very sweet mess.”

Soon his lips returned to yours, while his chest pressed against yours in a sticky embrace. You couldn’t help but laugh softly against my mouth, while your hands reached up to loosely tangle in the soft umber colored tresses upon his head. 

And it felt like heaven to him then—your softness underneath him, your own sweet taste overpowering the saccharine honey, the tickle of your laugh fluttering against his lips, the slight scratch of your fingernails upon his scalp, the intoxicating warmth between your legs opening up to take him in as your legs wrapped around his waist. 

That eagerness of yours made him snicker. Unable to resist the urge to chide you a bit, he pulled his lips away for a moment.

“Your highness seems restless,” he said, nodding his nose against yours with a small but wicked smile curling to one side of his face. “I thought princesses were supposed to be patient and proper.”

With a tilt of your head, you glared up at him, only with a very slight sense of playful annoyance.

“You know nothing of patience or propriety, depraved knight. It is you who so wantonly tempts my resolve… Who compels me to crave your devilish touch, which causes my weary mind such carnal turmoil.”

The knight’s quiet laugh seeped out from the charmingly crooked crack in his lips. With a low hum, somewhere between amusement and lust, he leaned down to kiss his increasingly restless princess once more.

When the kiss broke, he brushed the back of his hand against your heated cheek in soothing motions as he spoke softly against your slightly pouty agape lips. 

“Those are big words,” he said, with a low rumble of laughter underscoring his scratchy voice. “They sure sound pretty on your lips.”

As your hands absentmindedly roamed the broad expanse of his heaving chest, the muscles underneath the hair-speckled flesh flexing under your soft touch, you met his gaze from above you with a mischievous glimmer in your eye.

“My love,” you hummed softly, your eyelashes fluttering slowly against his cheek as his mouth roamed aimlessly over yours. “You torment me with your caresses… Your sweet touch.”

“You said it was devilish,” he replied between kisses, using your dramatized words against you. 

“It is,” you laughed softly. “Devilish and sweet. But it’s your touch. I wish to feel it every moment of every day and every night for all eternity, and the eternity after that, and before that, and every eternity in between.”

Daryl’s hand lifted to the side of your face, gently placing a strand of unruly hair behind your ear, to continue his increasingly feverish onslaught of kisses on your other cheek. 

“Yes, your highness,” he replied, much to your amusement. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

“Mm, you’re mine.”

After a momentary pause, he seemed to turn more serious—almost frightening—as he grabbed you with more impatient vigor, your arms having no choice but to cling around his neck. With your face surrounded by soft tresses of brown hair, you let out an instinctive cry, as though he was a predator and you were prey, about to be devoured. Though there was nothing in your biology that compelled you to fight him off. You’d accepted your fate, and you welcomed it.

Your weight was suddenly cradled by the softness of the bed beneath you, though your legs were still wrapped tightly around Daryl’s waist. That did not keep him restrained for long, for he soon unraveled himself from your entanglement and began to strip himself of his worn linen braies.

There was hardly any time to marvel at his anatomy—he soon climbed back over you, catching your breath with his mouth once again. You could at least feel his now unhindered length, though. You could feel it harden between your legs, where the warmth of your soft thighs made his cock begin to twitch from the pressure. 

As though your body wasn’t close enough for his liking, he looped his arm under the arch of your back, lifting you up just enough to feel your belly pressed against his. If he concentrated enough, he swore he could feel the delicate fluttering of your excitement inside you.

The tingling became stronger now, his body moving above you with enough rhythm to force his cock against the fleshy folds between your legs. The feeling was still so foreign, having only felt it in its fullest form once before, but you knew that tingle just from the sight of him, the smell of him, the taste of him. He did not even need to touch you there to make your body react in such a way, you were certain. 

Taking notice of your soft moans against his lips, and the slight gyration of your body, he used his free hand to find the warmth that so enticed him. His fingers settled in that crevice, staying still for a moment, until by some impulse they began to move. Up and down, up and down… A rhythmic motion not unlike the way the rest of his body moved, too. For your part, you broke the kiss to let out a moan that could not be contained by the velvet cage of his adoring mouth any longer. 

“Oh!”

Your head had tilted back so far that your neck was now exposed, completely subject to his will. As his hand moved not faster, but with more pressure, more insistence, he trailed his lips down your jawline, leaving messy, imprecise kisses along your perfumed skin. 

Applying increasing pressure, he sank his fingertips into you, that warm, sodden opening between your legs. The sensation was still so new, though the slight burning pain was less than before. You only clenched your teeth slightly, feeling his fingers extend deeper within you, curling upwards toward your belly. 

For a moment, he could not pay attention to anything but the way you felt—the way your body reacted to his invasion. Your passageway seemed to pulse around his fingers ever so slightly, as if it was some innate reaction, coercing his fingers further.

He only noticed your slight discomfort when he looked at you, your eyes shut tight. He pressed his lips to your cheek, his hair falling in your face. It was soft, yet ticklish, like a curtain of brown feathers draped over you.

“You all right?” he asked, his voice a soft, soothing whisper. If his touch wasn’t pleasing you enough, his voice so gentle and yet gruff was sure to push you over the edge of pleasure and into the realm of extraordinary bliss. “Tell me if I hurt you.”

“It doesn’t hurt. It’s only slight… You’re quite gentle.”

Against your cheek, you could feel his lips curl into a smile. All the while, his fingers moved slowly, back and forth, migrating between the shallow part of you, and the deepest part.

“Do you like it this way, your highness? Slow… gentle? I could go faster, but I don’t wanna hurt you.”

With a laugh, you shook your head, amused. “You could hurt me and it would still feel like heaven.”

He smiled down at you, then pressed another kiss to those plump, agape lips, sparkling with wetness and trembling with desire. Daryl was never a particularly confident man, but something about the way you wanted him, craved him beyond anything he’d ever known, he felt like he had the whole world in his hands. 

And now, he felt the world quake and shiver round his curled fingers, an accumulation of warm wetness pooling where his knuckles breached the entrance of your body in repetitive motions. Coupled with the aching softness of your uncontrollable moans were the sounds of his fingers moving inside you, the rhythmic, involuntary squeezing of the canal creating drenched and airy sighs of its own. 

As his fingers pulsed inside of you, you clung tightly to his shoulders, the tan, sun-freckled skin stretched thinly over defined muscles. A strained sigh escaped your lips as your fingers dug into his skin. Daryl’s pace slowed steadily to keep you from coming too soon, but he knew you were so very close. 

It amused him a little, the way your body was so sensitive to his touch. He found arousal in the way he could so easily bring you the ultimate pleasure, and the way he could withhold it at will. Despite how subservient he was to you, he could not help but revel in the dominance that came over him when so much control of your perfect body was given willingly over to him.

But you sighed and pouted as his fingers paused inside of you. Opening your eyes, you tilted your head and looked up at him—he traced your jawbone with his finger, while the fingers he had inside you playfully wiggled upwards to make you shiver.

“Daryl,” you sighed, not quite sure what else to say but his name.

In response, he smiled as hazy silvery blue eyes roamed your face, taking in each and every flawless feature. “You’re so beautiful… My sweet angel. I’d like to have you like this forever.”

Though your heart fluttered at his sweet words, you could only muster a few words, as your body anticipated its release: “Do not stop.”

But he did the opposite, removing his fingers altogether and leaving you throbbing, writhing desperately as you groaned softly. 

Panting, he sat up, lifting himself up from the bed to look at you, taking you in for a moment as he decided on what to do next. After all, he was leading the way. 

Before you could say another word, or even lift up your head to see what he was up to, you felt his hands wrap around your ankles, pulling you towards him as he stood at the end of the bed. 

You managed a surprised exclamation at the sudden jolt, your legs now spread just wide enough to fit his body as he climbed over you, his weight holding you against the bed. Now he kissed you again, with lips and tongue moving wildly over yours. Lost in this passion, you found your hands exploring the wide, muscular surface of his back, moving in erratic circles. With each flex of his muscles underneath your soft palms, you let out a breathy sigh, swallowed by his mouth on yours. 

As much as you craved his kiss, you knew you craved the hardness between his legs that was pulsing against your sodden entrance more. It was so close to being inside you, so close to that feeling you had only known once before, that you coveted ever since he first made love to you. There was an overwhelming emptiness there always now, where you hadn’t quite felt one before. You had known the carnal pleasures of sex, and now it was like a curse of desire had overtaken you. Not a desire just for the feeling, but for him, and the feeling only he could give to you. 

He felt your desire, too. It only heightened his own as his lower body moved against yours, assuaging his hunger for the embrace of your body just enough to keep him from spoiling this moment of closeness with his impatience. You deserved more than a quick burst of passion that ended in an underwhelming sensation of relief. That was what he’d only known before, after all―mindless, loveless moments with nameless, faceless women who could satisfy his purely biological need in the most practical exchange of goods. These occasions were few and far between, but never satiating beyond that primal desire. This was unlike anything he’d felt before, and to make love to someone, real love, was a change of pace he had to orient himself with. A most welcome change, of course. 

But he could not hold out much longer, he knew this of his body well enough. So at last he pulled his lips away from yours, his focus turning to the space where your bodies were so close to connecting. He reached down, with a series of gruff pants escaping between his lips, to bring the tip of his cock to your entrance. 

There was just a tickle of his flesh brushing against yours, but it was enough to elicit a shiver and a sigh against his sweat-dripping cheek. There, you pressed your lips to his face, with the salt of his clammy skin on your tongue. As he slowly entered you, you felt your body loosen, no longer tense with need, but now just beginning to feel full and warm. 

And with a deep, guttural moan, he buried himself further. Despite how slow he tried to move, he could not waste another moment―he did not want for anything in this moment but to be completely inside of you. 

The feeling lingered for a while as both of your bodies rested in place. He did not move, neither did you. There was only the erratic beating of your hearts and the heavy breaths escaping your lips. Daryl’s head found its place in the space between your head and your shoulder, where he found refuge in the warmth of your hair, scented with galgant and cloves. 

Though you could bask forever in the feeling of him inside you, still and deep, your desire was to feel him move again. 

As if on their own accord, your hands moved swiftly down his back to squeeze the flesh of his buttocks, as you’d call it. Ass, as he would call it, you were sure. The feeling elicited a laugh which tickled your cheek. 

“Where did you learn to do that, princess?”

“Nowhere,” you replied, just as he lifted himself up to look down upon you. There was a look of playfulness in his eyes, with a considerable amount of increasingly impatient lust. It excited you more, so you moved yourself as much as you could in an attempt to feel the friction of his cock inside you. 

Amused at your clumsy wiggling, he relented with a subtle swirl of his hips and a movement of his body which pulled him further out of you, until he slowly buried himself deeper again. 

His arms propped up the bulk of his weight as he moved in and out of you at increasing pace, his breath becoming more and more ragged all the while. Nothing could hold him back as he began to lose control of himself. Every cell in his body screamed for release, and he couldn’t slow down now. His lower body moved faster with each thrust that shook you to your core, where the tingly feeling of pleasure was building up inside once again.

Wide-eyed and breathless, your hands moved to his shoulders in an attempt to keep yourself steady, but it was no use. His sheer physical strength and size was enough to make your body practically seize from the force of his thrusts. In these desperate, hungry movements, there was a deep reverence—a kind of devotion you’d never known before, not even as a princess. He made love to you like it was an act of worship, in every conceivable way.

From the way he focused on you, as though the sun and stars revolved around you, to the feeling of his body making every frantic, passionate movement not only to sate his need, but to please you, he wanted nothing more than to serve you, as was his sworn oath.

And as you came closer to losing control of your loins, your body squeezed and writhed around him. In a fit of pleasure, so close to the precipice of bliss, your back arched and your head was thrown backwards with an involuntary spasm, as your legs clenched tight around his waist to draw him further into you. 

He was so deep, and you felt so full. The pain was there, lingering, as you were stretched open again and again. In all your ignorance, a part of you feared he’d tear you open, but you trusted him—your gallant, noble knight.

Now your hands held for dear life to his upper arms, where well-worn and well-defined muscles gleamed with sweat and ached with each part of him that needed release, which was soon to come. Your heavy, quickened breaths formed a pattern that seemed to match his, with occasional moans, groans, and even a slight curse or two escaping his tightened lips. 

And soon, a sudden wave of vibrations overtook you—that sensation you’d been dreaming of since the first night he bedded you. It was like a hurricane sweeping through your body, each new pulse of tingling pleasure surging through you like a strong gust of wind that left you squirming and crying out underneath him. 

It was a feast for his eyes to see you like this, and to know just how much power his love held over you. With each gasp, each breathy moan, each soft convulsion that contorted your body, he lost himself in your bliss. 

He couldn’t help but kiss your trembling lips as your legs wrapped tighter around his waist, pulling his body further against you and into your pulsing center. This feeling, along with the soft dance of his tongue across and around yours, drew him closer to his own release.

It had been buried deep in the back of his mind from the moment he realized you were taken—that terrible longing, tainted by the fear that never again would he feel this again. Of course he knew the most important thing was rescuing you and returning you home safe, but there was that selfish part of him that desired you carnally, because once was not enough. 

Now that you were safe, he feared he’d never be able to go another second without you again.

So, with a final deep thrust and a hearty groan, he let his body go. He was quick enough to free himself from you, releasing the buildup of his arousal onto the soft inside of your thigh. 

The warmth tickled you slightly as it trickled down. You watched through hazy, lidded eyes as Daryl’s hand stroked his pulsing cock until it was rendered limp as if with exhaustion. His body drooped over yours, his head cradled against your shoulder. Fast, heavy breaths warmed your neck. In a matter of seconds, he caught his breath enough to catch your lips with his once more.

Heady air thick with the scent of honey and sex swirled between your bodies, moving languidly beneath the fur blanket Daryl had draped over the two of you somewhere between lazy, sweaty kisses and tangled arms. 

Tonight was different than the first night you made love. That night, the passionate fire he stoked inside of you kept your mind alert enough to stay awake with him into the wee hours of the morning, murmurs of dreams and worries slipping between your lips. Tonight, you could hardly keep your eyes open once you’d felt your body sink into the straw-filled cot beneath you. 

Daryl, in his lust, hadn’t noticed you’d begun to drift off as he showered you in kisses. When your hands began to slowly lose their tight, needful grip on his shoulders, he let his lips separate from yours with a smile. Your head sank like an anchor onto the pillow beneath you. With your last sensation the feeling of your knight’s lips pressed gently to your temple, you entered a deep, much-needed sleep.

The night was still when you awoke in a slight daze, colored a deep brownish orange from the flicker of the dying hearth. Your newborn senses clung to the feeling of the soft fur beneath your outstretched hand, where once Daryl lay. 

You stirred awake at the realization of his absence. Sitting up, the fur blanket fell from your body to expose your naked breasts. A sudden shock dispelled any last remnants of sleep. You weren’t at all accustomed to sleeping in the nude, after all.

Moreover, you feared something, though you weren’t quite sure what, had happened to your knight.

As you raised yourself from the modest cot to dress yourself in the once discarded chemise, you could not help the fearful thought of whatever remained of the Saviors taking Daryl from you, leaving you alive in some cruel, twisted act of revenge for the death of their leader.

But as you stepped outside, into the darkness of the early morning, Daryl’s voice, grainy and soft, came to you through the crisp air. In your slight daze from waking just moments ago, it took you a moment or two to recognize his voice speaking your name. 

Your eyes caught up faster than your ears when you turned to see him, illuminated only by the light of a small lantern placed on the pebbled ground near his feet. He was dressed already, a simple tunic of linen white, with a wool cloak of deep indigo on his back. The closer you stepped towards him, the more the almost crimson glow of the majestic Friesian’s coat shimmered to distinguish the creature from the black of night. 

“Phantom?” you spoke softly, rubbing your sleep-heavy eyes as if to wake yourself from a dream. You’d almost forgotten about the loyal steed, and it was hard to imagine him surviving the chaos of the battle just hours ago, but then again, you survived. 

Phantom seemed to perk up at the sound of your voice. He lifted his head to meet your eyes, and left the side of his master to slowly come towards you. The gentle creature’s muzzle seemed to slide perfectly between your delicate hands as he huffed a breath of air. After a few moments of accepting your pets, he raised his head to nuzzle your shoulder, nearly putting you off balance with the sheer force of the large animal’s affections.

Daryl flinched for a moment, about ready to lunge forward to catch you if you fell, but you caught yourself with your back foot, laughing despite the slight pain of the raw blisters that began to form there from last night’s escapades. 

“Oh, I am so glad to see you.” The horse lowered his head as if in reverence, some kind of formal acknowledgement of your voice. You ran your fingers through Phantom’s silky forelock, which you knew to be quite pleasing to the destrier. “I thought I might never do so again.”

“He found his way home.” Daryl’s voice came closer, until you felt the warmth of his chest against your back. His chin rested upon your shoulder, a comforting weight. “Like he always does.”

Daryl’s arms squeezed tight around your waist, pulling you flush against him. While still lavishing attention upon the rather needy horse before you, you closed your eyes and took in his scent of pine and honey. But you did not stay still long, turning to see his face you’d dreamed of, just to remember that he was real. Phantom, though, huffed in slight disappointment.

“When will my father come?” you asked quietly. Something about the stillness and the darkness of the early morning, just a matter of time before the sun would begin to rise, made you whisper. 

Daryl’s chin lifted towards the distant horizon, where the first sliver of dawn slowly parted the darkness of night to give in to the pale light of morning. 

“He said we’d meet here at first light. Should be any moment now.” 

Daryl’s mind drifted elsewhere. Last night’s events had left him with a whirlwind of emotions and revelations. Negan’s death brought with it the triumph of war, the splendor of victory that he knew well from practically a lifetime of battle. And with war came the inevitable grief of countless lives lost. Daryl’s thoughts lingered on the duke, the prince, and the rogue Savior who’d helped them. He wondered if they’d made it out of the dungeon alive. 

And when those thoughts gave way to the realization that, within only a matter of time, you would return to the arms of your father, and no longer would you be his. The king would never understand your love for each other. Why should he, anyway? Daryl was of lowly birth, even if he was a knight. As much as he wanted to believe King Ezekiel would allow him to marry you, he knew he was more likely to end up headless at the mere suggestion. 

As he held you now, and as he knew you in the most sacred passions of love that you had shared, you were not just a princess, but his princess. When you were away from him, the world around you blissfully unaware of the truth, you were just a princess. Not his, at least as far as the world was concerned. Despite all logic, he knew there would need to be a time when the love between you was not hidden in the shadows of the forest. 

Daryl’s pensiveness was not lost on you now. You felt him cling tighter to you as he looked off into the distance, a heaviness in his face. Your hand caressed his cheek with enough pressure to bring his attention back to you. His expression became lighter by just a tad, but whatever plagued his thoughts was still lingering. 

“What is it, my love?” 

“Nothing, I just…” He trailed off, shaking his head as if to rid himself of these worries. “I wish  we had more time.”

Where there was once a look of concern blossomed a sweet smile that was almost potent enough to make him forget your father altogether. 

“We always have time. We will make time, like we always have.”

But in your heart, you knew what he meant, and you felt the same. How long could you go on like this, hiding your love from your father? Escaping into the woods to consummate your love in secret? For as much as you loved him, and as sure as you were that your heart belonged to no one else, you were not sure how you could keep your love a secret much longer.

Still, the time would come when you could tell your father. You were sure of that. 

“You told me that you’d marry me,” you whispered, lips fluttering against the soft hairs of his cheek. “You said someday, you’d marry me. And a knight always keeps his promise, especially to his lady.”

The knight let out a huff, then soon found himself nuzzled into the warmth of your hair, where memories of every moment spent in your company curled around his face in a deep, honey-scented embrace. 

“Someday,” he murmured. “I promise you, my princess.”

When his lips touched yours, he felt your tremble against the cold. He pulled the cloak from his back to swing it around you and wrap you in a woolen cocoon. Pulling you ever closer, your chest was heated by the fire that seemed to perpetually burn in his. Another longer, deeper kiss, then a smile shared between the two of you.

“Perhaps one day, I will be your queen.”

His warm hands rubbed your back in steady motions as his eyes traced dreamily over your face, each curve and crevice and color another feature he would keep to memory for in those moments when he could not hold you. He wanted for nothing in this moment—everything he could’ve dreamt of wanting was here, in the shape of you.

“You are my queen.”

A new heat rouged your cheeks and ignited your heart. To be his queen seemed to be the greatest height you could ever reach, if only it meant you were the queen of his heart. 

Dawn stained the sky with rich hues of rosy orange and dusty violet as you fell into another kiss, though your lips would be torn away by the distant sound of clopping hooves coming closer beyond the horizon. Not just a handful, but nearly hundreds. 

But the fearful flutter in your heart soon subsided as the blue flag of Alexandria raised above the militia, their silhouettes coming into view. They were led in triumph by the king, flanked on either side by Duke Richard, and one man you did not recognize—Prince Jesus of Hilltop. In your father’s hand was the chain that leashed his mighty companion, Shiva. They were victorious, and no more would you fear Negan, nor walkers, nor death itself. Not when your knight was near. 

Not even death could tear you from him, and as you held his gaze, you felt a calmness overcome you—a relief, as though you knew that everything, somehow, would be all right. 

~

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Series Masterlist

[puppyluvfics]

Bad To Be Good | Lee Jooyeon

Lee Jooyeon | non idol au (kinda? it's neither here nor there) WC: 3.3k Genre: smut Summary: You gotta be bad to be good, if you know what I'm talkin' about. Mouthing off to Jooyeon never put you in positions quite like these... Warnings: Filth. I’m writing the warning list as I’m writing it but still let me know if I missed anything!! Female anatomy mentions, public teasing, choking, split play, degrading, dom/sub dynamics, bondage, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE U TAP IT!!), pee mention but it’s not piss play (please pee after sex!!) It's like half proofread idk A/N: UM wow! I kinda… went nuts… this is just.... :) how yall doin? I... have very little to say other than good luck, i love you all, and this song was not originally based on the Poison song but it's what it became... enjoy <3

You didn’t think much of it when Jooyeon invited you to go with him to the music store. You enjoyed browsing with him, even if you didn’t know how to play much of anything, and it was always fun when he let you pick out the design on a new pack of picks. 

It wasn’t odd, either, for him to spend ample time messing around with instruments, his fingers gliding up and down the frets of guitars and basses, pressing down on keys of pianos. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself. But that’s something you loved about him, especially when it was you that he couldn’t keep his hands off of.

Today was no different; the two of you walked around a bit, his fingers lingering on instruments, display cases, amplifiers - anything he could touch, he was touching. 

“Do you ever get tired of that?” You asked, playfully. “Touching everything?” You added.

He scoffed softly with a small smirk. “I don’t see you complaining when you’re the one I’m touching.” He said, too casually. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. He wasn’t wrong, but damn, he didn’t need to say it out loud like that.

“And yet, here I am, untouched.” You challenged him, hoping to elicit the same embarrassed reaction out of him.  He stopped in his tracks, eyeing you up and down, a mix of lust and courage burning behind them. 

“Don’t play with fire if you don’t want to get burned, doll.” He said, his voice low and rough. You let out a challenging chuckle, leaning against the corner where the walls met. “You won’t.” You dared him. You weren’t really sure what you were asking for, but you were more than happy to find out how he interpreted it. He cocked an eyebrow at you, sucking the air into his cheeks. He looked around cautiously, making sure that it was only the two of you before he backed you into the corner you were in, trapping you with his figure. 

“Don’t test me.” He said, his voice low and gravelly. You didn’t know when to quit. 

“I. Dare. You.” You bit back, smirking at him. He let out a soft grunt, almost a growl before his hand found its way around your throat. God, his hands were big. He pressed the sides of your neck softly. 

“What was that?” He smirked at you, watching your mouth fall open and needy whines fall into your breaths. “You dare me?” he chuckled dryly, pressing tighter. A few moments later, he let go, rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb. You caught your breath softly, looking at him with wide eyes… full of desire, admiration and something else that you didn’t really understand, but you knew it made you shiver.

“Maybe I should dare you more often.” You said, still not knowing when to quit.

He continued to browse, his fingers still running over things - the same fingers that had just wrapped around your throat. They looked so tantalizing from where you stood. 

“You know, (Y/N), I much prefer when you’re a good girl and you use your words and just ask me…” He teased, not looking at you. Good girl… was he insane? He must be, saying that out loud, so casually like that. You try to stutter out a reply and he chuckles dryly. 

“What, cat got your tongue? You were so daring just a moment ago. What happened?” He cooed at you. God, you needed him. But you’d never let him know that… you couldn’t let him win whatever game you had decided you were playing. 

“Keep that energy when we get home and you don’t run the risk of getting caught.” You finally said, challenging him again. You knew it wasn’t the risk of getting caught that turned him on, per se, but it helped. He wasn’t shy about being dominant with you in bed, either, but moments this intense were a bit few and far between.

~~~

Maybe you should have learned to watch your mouth. Because there you were, naked and on your knees on the bedroom floor in front of him, hands neatly clasped behind your back as he circled you. You didn’t dare turn your head to follow him, but you kept your eyes on him from the second he was in your peripherals to the second he left, your gaze fixing on the wall when he was behind you. 

He stopped in front of you, grabbing a fist full of your hair, yanking your head back with minor force, making you look up at him. 

“You think I didn’t know what you were doing? That little stunt you pulled earlier?” He asked, his voice low and gritty.

“What stunt?” You asked, innocently. He rolled his eyes, tugging your hair again. 

“I know you’re dumb when all you can think about is my cock, but you’re not stupid. Teasing me in public like that… if you wanted me to choke you, all you had to do was ask.” He said, before letting go of your hair. God, he was insane… and God, you needed him. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but no words came. He stopped in front of you, tilting your head up, tucking his fingers under your chin.

“Open your mouth.” He said, simply. Of course, you obliged, parting your lips just a bit. What a brat you were, and it didn’t go unnoticed by him. His fingers gripped your chin, digging into your skin softly - enough for you to feel but nowhere near hard enough to leave a mark. After all, marks were best left in places only the two of you could see. The force of his fingers caused you to gasp out quietly, your mouth finally opening to where he wanted it - wide enough for him to spit in your mouth. It wasn’t hard, quite the opposite actually. His spit dripped from where he stood above you, falling into your open mouth, mixing with your own.

“Good girl… swallow.” He said, releasing your mouth. He watched you swallow his spit, your eyes looking up at him, wide with desperation. The very act of that was enough for him to snap. He needed you just as much as you needed him, if not more. You were his. He was yours.

His fingers skillfully undid his belt, and in a split second decision, he made his way behind you,  restraining your wrists with the belt, pulling on it tightly to remind you that you were in his control before securing it with enough room for you to slip out of if you needed to. But, of course, you were a good girl, so you wouldn’t dream of doing that. 

He made his way in front of you again, smirking as he noticed your eyes follow every movements of his fingers as he undid the button on his jeans. It felt like the blink of an eye. One moment he was standing in front of you, towering over you, fully clothed. And now, he stood before you, hard and needy. A small whine left your mouth as you shifted on your knees. 

“Needy thing, aren’t you?” He said, tangling his fingers in your hair, his cock brushing your lips. You nodded, your eyes darting between his face and his cock. 

“Go on then, show me what else that mouth can do when it’s not trying me.” He said, tracing your lips with the tip of his cock. He didn’t need to tell you twice. Your lips parted, and you slowly took him into your mouth, moving inch by inch, breathing through your nose, hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue around him as best you could. God, it felt like every time the two of you got together, he got bigger.

He inhaled air through his teeth feeling your mouth around him. “There you go, that’s a good girl.” He mumbled, shutting his eyes and letting his head fall back, succumbing to the ecstasy that came from your mouth. He gave you a few more moments to adjust to having him in your mouth before he took over - he couldn’t take your teasing anymore. Both of his hands grabbed your hair, guiding your mouth up and down his cock at a steady pace, your spit beginning to bubble in the corners of your mouth. 

“Relax your throat, doll. Let me fuck that pretty face.” He muttered, speeding up just a fraction, coaxing filthy, guttural sounds from you. Of course, you let him. Your eyes fell shut, your let your throat relax as best you could and you paced your breathing out of your nose, humming around his cock with each thrust, leaving tantalizing vibrations on his skin. He felt himself getting close, and despite the mental image of you spilling his cum out of your mouth driving him insane, he wasn’t done with you. Not for a long shot. 

He grabbed a fistful of your hair, guiding you off his cock, before grabbing your arm, helping you up and onto all fours on the bed, pulling the belt off your wrists so you could stabilize yourself. “Such a good fucking girl for me.” He said, his voice hoarse with need.

He watched you settle onto your hands and knees in front of him, arching your back so perfectly. Fuck, he couldn’t get enough of you. He knew that he could just take you now, fuck you and fill you with his cum, but where was the fun in that?

Instead, his tongue found its way between your legs, finally connecting with where you needed him most. You let out a small yelp-whine that fell into a moan as his tongue lapped up the wetness that had gathered while he had fucked your face.

“Look at you… such a mess already. Does my cock really make you this needy?” He mumbled into your skin before attaching his lips to your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue. You tried to answer, the start of a ‘Yes” coming from your mouth, before getting cut off in the middle by a moan. His hands grasped at your ass as he continued to lick and suck at you, kneading your flesh between his fingers before occasionally coming down in hard spanks. It was overwhelming in the best way possible. 

“J-jooyeon… fuck, I… please…” You whined out. 

“Please what?” He mumbled against your clit, spanking you once again.

“Please, I’m gonna… fuck, please let me come.” You all but gasped out. He debated it for a moment, his lips never leaving you. He could easily pull away, leave you writhing and begging for more… or he could push you over the edge, knowing you sounded so perfect when you were overstimulated. He settled for the latter.

“Go on then, come for me. Be a good girl and come on my tongue.” He said, doubling down his efforts of eating you out. You didn’t need to be told twice. You let your arms fall in front of you, arching your back and gripping at the sheets. 

“Fuck, I’m coming, I’m coming. Oh, God…” You whined loudly into the sheets below you. You could feel him smirk into you while he continued to lick and suck while you not only came, but felt the aftershocks of sensitivity rock you. 

“Jooyeon, fuck, I can’t…” You said breathlessly, your legs shaking in his hands as his tongue pushed you into a state of overstimulation. He wouldn’t push you… not like that, at least. He stood up, letting you breathe for just a second before spanking you a few more times, lining himself up with your entrance.

“You can… you can take it. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?” He asked, smiling when you answered with a shaky whine and a nod. You both knew you’d use the safe word if you had to, but you both also knew you loved to let him use you. 

“Say it.” He said, teasing you, pressing his tip into you a few centimeters before pulling out.

“I’m your good girl.” You gasped out desperate to be full of him.

“What was that?” He said, continuing to tease you. “I didn’t hear you, doll.”

“Yes you did…” You whined, desperately. He had just let you come and you were talking back? Not on his watch. His hand found your ass again, hitting you harder than he had earlier, leaving your skin red and achy. You let out a loud whiny moan at the impact, causing you to clench around nothing.

“Try again, slut.” He said. He was careful with degrading you, never going far enough to make you feel genuinely bad about yourself, but enough to make you wetter and wetter.

“I’m your good girl. I’m yours. I’m your good girl.” You said, clearer and louder. “Please… please fuck me.” You added, pushing your body back.

“You’re so cute when you’re desperate for my cock. You want me to fuck you, huh? You think you deserve to have my cock in you?” He said, tracing it up and down your slit. 

“I… I deserve what you think I deserve…” You said, falling more and more into a submissive state. He smiled coyly at your response, his hand rubbing your ass where he had come down earlier, soothing the redness that remained.

“That’s my good girl. All mine.” He said, once again teasing you. As you tried to reply “Yours,” though, he pushed himself into you in one swift motion, evoking another loud, whiny moan. He let you adjust to the feeling of being full, taking a moment to rub his his hands over your back before settling on your hips. 

“Who owns this pussy?” He asked, staring to move. 

“You do… God, you do!” You moaned, feeling yourself stretch around him. Your quick, obedient answer once again caused something inside him to snap. He moved with a new fervor, slamming into you, his hips colliding with yours, his fingers digging into your hips, almost bruising you. You let yourself get fucked into the mattress, getting just as much pleasure as he was getting, the feeling of him deep inside you driving you closer and closer to coming again. 

“I’m so fucking close…” you gasped out between thrusts. That was great, but he wasn’t anywhere near done with you… not until he came. He grabbed your arm, pulling you so you were kneeling as he fucked up into you, hitting you deeper than before. One of his hands wrapped around to your throat, pressing down, the other hand wrapped around to rub your clit, his thrusts never stopping. 

“You better not fucking come until I tell you to.” He all but growled in your ear. You nodded, trying hard not to lose yourself, to be a good girl and follow his directions. He felt your quick pulse under his fingers as he pressed and loosened his fingers around your throat, choking you and giving you just a moment’s respite to breathe, his other hand rubbing feverish circles on your clit. 

“Fuck, please.” You moaned again, trying to coax him to his own orgasm so you could fall over the edge with him. 

He was close as well, but holding back as he contemplated where to come. Regardless, he was going to mark you as his, as he did every time. But would this time be a time where he came inside you? Or would this be a time where he pulled out and came all over your back? As you clenched around him, trying to stop your own orgasm, he decided. Since you had been such a little brat earlier, he wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of feeling him come inside you.

“Tell me you need it.” He muttered into your ear, fucking into you.

“Please, I need to come, please, please make me come, please let me come for you.” You begged as best you could with his fingers wrapped around your throat. 

“Go on, then. Put on a show for me. Come for me. Be a good girl and come all over my cock.” He said, rubbing his fingers on your clit faster. Your hands grabbed onto his arm, steadying yourself as another orgasm burned within you, leaving you gasping out for air, moaning, whining and repeating his name over and over again. “That’s my good girl, my perfect little fucked out slut.” He whispered as you squeezed your eyes shut. 

He pushed you forward again, onto the bed, pulling out just in time, coming all over your back and ass, groaning your name, holding himself up by grabbing your hips again. You felt his cum hit you and you whined quietly, still reeling from your own over-sensitivities. He milked the last drops from himself before collapsing next to you on the bed, laying on his back.

He let out breathless chuckles, his hand patting around the bed to find yours, intertwining your fingers together. 

“Fuck, you’re incredible… my good girl… took my cock so well.” He muttered out, hazily. 

You giggle quietly, still breathing heavily. “Well, when you fuck me that good, how could I not?”

~~~

He lost his words, rolling over onto his side just enough to take you in, gazing at you from head to toe. You laid there, resting your head between your arms, breathing heavily, each breath in causing your chest to rise enough that the light bounced off his cum on your back. If it hadn’t been completely obvious to him before, he would have cited this as the moment he fell in love with you… maybe he was falling all over again. You turned to head to look at him, gazing into his eyes. 

“What are you thinking about?” You asked, your voice soft and gentle - a stark difference from the whiny begs that had fallen from your lips just minutes ago.

“You.” He said, smiling himself. His smile was small, but full of love. You chuckled at his matter-of-fact answer. 

“Me, huh? Anything good?”

He nodded. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” You replied. Loving each other was, frankly, as easy as breathing. 

You both stayed there, looking at each other, not speaking but your eyes and smiles saying every unspoken word. After a few more minutes, he stood up, with a small grunt. 

“Alright, let me get you cleaned off, I don’t want you feeling sticky all night.” He said, playfully patting your ass. He returned a few moments later with a warm washcloth, wiping his mess off of your back, also taking care to clean up your own wet mess. “Better?” He asked once you were clean.

You nodded. “Much, thank you.” You stood up, yourself, finally, padding to the bathroom, where he was still standing, cleaning himself off. You sat on the toilet beside him, just looking up at him while you both did your business. 

“You know… maybe I should tease you in public more, if it means I get this.” You chuckled, finishing your business. He rolled his eyes at you playfully, pulling you in for a kiss, his hand resting on the small of your back. 

“Again, babe, just ask… you’re so pretty when you use your words and ask.” He mumbled onto your lips. 

“Hmm, no, this is more fun.” You said, patting his chest before walking back to the bedroom, laying down waiting for him to join you. He did a few minutes later, wrapping himself around you, tangling your legs together and pressing his chest to your back.

“You’re a brat… but you’re my brat. And I love you for that.” He said into your neck, leaving kisses between each word.

“I love you too.” You hummed, contently, feeling so used but so safe and loved in his arms.

[sophswritingthings]

YOUR MIZU WRITING IS EVERYTHING the apothecary!wife fic where they're approaching the brothel and mizu's reaction to the man trying to get her wife hired as a s worker... we need more jealous/possessive mizu content in my mind it could go any way whether the reader is mizu's wife, significant other, or someone she has feelings for (though if it's just a crush i think it'd lean more towards jealousy than possessiveness) if you feel like writing something for that kind of idea i'd love to see it!

pairing: mizu x fem!reader

warning(s): swearing

a/n: oughhhh I love writing jealous characters!! esp when its like the "masc" one that's jealous!!! idk it just hits something with me <3

summary: mizu's definitely crushing on you. hard. she will deny the fact fifteen times over if you even think of calling her out on it; but its evident. so evident that now she's getting jealous.

word count: 733 words / 3,897 characters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you were walking. simply walking, your kimono dragging through the snow as you gave men and women alike smiles as you walked by.

she watched you closely, as if a hawk stalking her prey. every way your hand flicked, every time that smile would rise and fall on your lips, and those rosy pink cheeks nipped by the cold wind.

she hated it. she fucking hated it.

how beautiful you were, and goddamn it how nice you were to her. she had the tendency to be cold with everyone, even people she sort of liked, and yet you pushed right through it--you would smile at her every time you caught her looking at you.

what was your fucking problem? why were you just so... nice?

instead, she opted to keep her distance while she was figuring that out.

she was walking alongside ringo, her "apprentice" that she'd gained along the way. she didn't ask for him nor actually want him; but he was rather helpful when it came to certain things--so she didn't bother sending him away. she'd tried that and it didn't work.

"master?" ringo questioned, glancing at mizu.

mizu took the glance at ringo, raising an eyebrow and meeting his eyes. she said nothing, waiting for his question.

"where has, um, (y/n) gone?"

she stopped in her tracks at that, looking ahead. and he was right. you'd disappeared off to who knows where.

she sighs, "only god knows where she's gone," she grumbled. "wait here. I'll find her."

he nods. she walked along the street ways, looking in every alleyway, every shop. deep down she was nervous, nervous that someone had kidnapped you, taken you away where she wouldn't be able to find you.

her heart was racing as she broke into something of a sprint, but she stopped in her tracks. she spotted a red kimono splotched with snow and pretty depictions of flowers and cranes.

yeah, that was you.

she walked toward you. you were standing on the inside of a dimly lit shop, fucking hell, what had you gotten yourself into that she needed to get you out of?

she unsheathed her sword, stepping into the shop. you were talking to some man, of all people. who in hell was he, and what did he want with you?

she pressed him against the counter, sword pressed to his neck.

"what the fuck are you doing with her?" she hisses. she looked him up and down. the clothes he were wearing were a man of a brothel.. "ah. I see. so, what, you see a beautiful woman and you assume she wants anything to do with you?"

"mizu--relax," you grab her arm, making her release her grip on the man. you pull her back. "he was only talking to me, maybe its time I settle down. and here is nice, I--"

an arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into her side as she spoke to you.

"you are just fine with myself and ringo," she narrowed her eyes. "and you are not the kind of woman to just.. sleep with a man. a random, man."

you gaze at her, surprised by her closeness. she had never been so close to you..

"I-i suppose I am not," you whisper, glancing at the man. "t-thank you, sir.. I'll be on my way, I believe."

the two of you step outside the building.

"I was fucking worried about you, you know," she hisses, releasing her grip from your waist.

"more like jealous," you snicker. though your blush is still evident. "you were jealous I was talking to him."

"what? no," she spat. "you can talk to whoever the fuck you want, you act like I care."

you wince at the harshness to her words, "I-im only... never mind."

she saw how much her harsh tone hurt you. she sighs. you weren't wrong; even the thought of you being with another person made her blood boil.

she wanted you. she wanted you all to herself.

"maybe a little jealous," she had decided to humor you. she couldn't have you hating her, or scared of her. that was a big no-no.

"I thought so," you gently jabbed her side. you recoiled after you did so; knowing that it would very likely piss her off.

she gave a gentle laugh, "yeah, yeah, whatever. come on, can we get on with our walk, now?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: im sorry its short, and also a little more "protective" mizu than jealous.. this is the first thing Im writing when I wake up, so its probably not the best! my apologizes for that :(

[atsvmi]

Isagi’s Interlude

“I wish I wasn’t famous/ I wish I was still in school/ So that I could have you in my dorm room/ I would put it on you crazy” - Cece’s Interlude, Drake

✿ tags: minors dni, 18+ content, pro!Isagi, fem!reader (called good girl, wears a skirt, has cleavage, etc.), established relationship, mention of an age difference (reader is older than Isagi, both are in their 20s), consensual audio recording, role play (university students), switch!Isagi, switch!reader, oral (male receiving), humping, unprotected sex, mentions of virginity but neither is a virgin, purity kink, corruption kink (?), one mention of a spoiler, tbh i think this is pwp but idk

✿ wc: 3.5k

✿ a/n: the time has come that i officially am no longer catfishing as a writing blog🥳 please clap. also, this is my first time writing smut so please be kind<3

“Do you think we’d still date if we knew each other when we were in school?”

Your question is a random but welcomed conversation as you both work to reset your shared kitchen after dinner, you wash as he dries. In the seconds between the next clean dish, he pauses to consider his answer, before choosing to reach for low-hanging fruit.

“Do you mean high school? If so then...I hope not,” he finally answers. He can’t help but laugh as you fling the excess water and soap from your fingers onto him in indignation.

“No, I didn’t mean fucking high school. And quit making me seem like a fucking cradle robber, asshole.” You’ve been together long enough that the four-year age difference between the two of you is little more than a fun fact and a harmless joke at times. He can sense your annoyance is mostly for show but he chooses not to push any further.

“Ok, ok. I’m sorry,” he manages to get out between chuckles, fending himself from the assault of suds. Again he pauses to really think about what could’ve been. What would he have studied? Would he manage to get into a university with a good team? How would you manage to cross paths? He realizes it’s hard to consider anything when he doesn’t know much about your own school experience outside of the anecdotal stories you’ve told him.

“Tell me what you were like in school first.”

You resume washing the dishes, multitasking as you answer him.

“Um…pretty lame honestly. I wrote for the school’s newspaper. I wasn’t super active on campus but that made me get out there more than I would’ve on my own. But I did go to some parties.”

He lets your answer sink in.

“Yeah, I think we would’ve still got along. You don’t sound like you were much different from now so I don’t see why not.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see your lips turn slightly up, pleased with his answer. Cute.

“Do you ever think about your life if things turned out differently? Like if Blue Lock never happened?”

He can’t say he has. Blue Lock changed his life on its head completely, it’s hard to imagine things working out any differently. Tada and the others he went to school with were freshly graduated, at least according to their social media updates, so he supposes he would be too. Yet still, it’s hard to think about something so different than today.

“I dunno. I can’t really picture it. Actually, I don’t even want to. If I didn’t go to Blue Lock then who knows if I’d ever get the chance to play the soccer I want to. I’d probably never get to play professionally either.” He lets his train of thought wander, eventually realizing that without playing professionally, who knows if he’d ever cross paths with you. He buries the thought before it can even fully form and upset himself in the process.

“Yeah, that’s fair,” you conclude as you hand him the final dish. “I’m gonna get ready for bed. Can you just finish up here by sweeping?”

He nods in the affirmative, which you thank with a kiss that just misses his lips before leaving in the direction of the bedroom. Left with only his thoughts he can’t help but think a bit more about what could’ve been.

Obviously, he’d continue playing soccer as long as possible. Sure his high school team wasn’t amazing, but maybe through tryouts he’d end up at a decent enough school. And he’s always liked art class. Maybe he would’ve tried to pursue a fine arts degree? Or physical therapy to help athletes just in case soccer really didn’t pan out. But what then? For someone who’s built an entire soccer career around the ability to visualize a scenario, he really can’t help but to draw a blank.

Distracted by being in his own head, finishing around the kitchen takes longer than usual. When he finally manages to make his way to your shared room, he just manages to hear the sink’s water turn off, a sign that you’re at the tail end of your nightly routine.

He turns down the bed, first removing the many throw pillows you insist are necessary (a mild point of contention in his opinion. After all, what good is a pillow you’re not even allowed to lay on?) and then making himself comfortable using the “sleeping pillows” to prop himself up against the headboard, occupying himself by scrolling on the phone while he waits for you to make your way to bed. Despite it being the off-season he’s scheduled to meet with a trainer to maintain his conditioning so an early night is in order.

The click of the bathroom door opening draws his eyes but more importantly, what you’ve decided to wear to bed has his full attention.

“Baby, you look-” he starts before you cut him off.

“Is this still a good time for the interview?”

“Interview?”

He’s never been so confused in his life. And even worse, he can’t even dedicate half of his mind to start to comprehend what you’re playing at when he’s busy eyeing you from head to toe. The only thing on his mind is the oversized replica of his Bastard München jersey you’ve tied at your waist and the shortest skirt he’s ever seen. If he were to turn you around he’s sure that it’d cover absolutely nothing he’s sure a skirt is meant to. But even more captivating is the pair of thigh highs that indent into your skin the same way his fingers do when he-

“Yes? The post-game interview. I was hoping to get a quote for the paper from the player that scored the winning goal.”

“Uhh…” Is the most intelligent answer he can muster as he watches you climb onto the bed with a pad of paper and pen in hand. The size of the jersey only frames your cleavage as it gapes open thanks to gravity. Eventually, you make yourself comfortable, legs tucked under you and pen poised to take notes of his response.

“Is it ok if I record this,” you ask, sliding your phone on the nightstand, voice recorder rolling once he manages a stiff nod of his head. You continue. “So what were you thinking in that last play? It was pretty amazing if I say so myself.”

“Winning goal?” He should feel embarrassed by the way he can’t pull his eyes from your legs but the slither of skin between where your skirt ends and the socks begin is calling his name. It’s like he’s in high school again the way he can feel the blood rush from his head. Only your groan of annoyance gives him the strength to meet your eyes again.

“Babe, it’s called role play,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe in some ways, it is.

“Right. Role play.” A beat passes. “What exactly are the roles we’re playing?”

The look you give him makes his cock twitch in his pants.

“Obviously, you’re the star of our university’s soccer team and I am the reporter assigned to cover the season. You just scored the championship goal. Aaaand scene,” you drop your pen and paper to clap for extra effect and then grab both again, poised and ready for his answer.

Truthfully, he can hardly keep up with your antics but that’s never stopped him from trying. He’s had enough practice managing eccentric personalities from the cast of characters Blue Lock managed to put together so this is nothing but a cakewalk. The fact he’s in love with you only makes your idiosyncrasies endearing.

“Right.” He clears his throat, buying time. “I try to keep a cool head and focus on the field whenever I’m playing. A championship game doesn’t change that.”

You scratch something down on the notepad before continuing.

“And how do you feel now that you’ve won?”

“It’s a big achievement to win the championship for the school, and even more so to be the one to finish the game. I just hope to do even better next year.”

This time you jot away a bit longer, leaving his attention to wander back to your outfit. He reaches out a hand to appreciate the getup, running his hand up your knee to just under the hem of your skirt.

“Mr. Isagi you seem pretty distracted. Are you sure this is still a good time?”

“Call me Yoichi”. He doesn’t move his hand away when he answers.

Again you put down your props, seemingly for good as they rest next to your phone.

“I suppose this is probably too boring of a celebration for a star player like yourself. I should probably let you go back to the team for a proper congratulations. I’m sure you have quite the fan club waiting for you.”

“I doubt it. I’ve never been that popular.”

With that, you scoot closer, letting your legs fall open so that he can get the slightest glimpse between your legs if your skirt were to ride up even the slightest centimeter.

“That sounds doubtful. Who wouldn’t want a chance with Isagi Yoichi? Ace of the soccer team. Handsome and nice to boot.”

Despite complimenting his personality, your attention is focused on his physique, eyes roaming across his body appreciatively. He doesn’t fail to notice that you linger a second longer where the sheets have started to tent.

“Do you think it’d be ok if I properly congratulated you,” you ask, resting a hand on the sheet, ready to pull it away at a moment’s notice. You both have a healthy sex life, both well accustomed to initiating, but it’s rare for you to be so forward. He might pass out if you wait any longer to touch him.

“Congratulations? What did you have in mind?” Is all he can get out, forcing you to get straight to the point.

“Let me suck your cock. As a congratulations on a job well done.” Your hand cups his length through both the layers of the sheet, his joggers, and underwear, but he swears he could still cum with the slightest amount of friction he’s so wound up.

“Yeah. Yes. Please.” He’s near breathless, he wants you so badly.

Not a second is wasted before you have him bare from the waist down. He completes the look by pulling his shirt over his head, throwing the offending article wherever it chooses to land. All the while, you shimmy yourself down between his legs. Sure he’s the one fully naked but the eroticism of the sight before him already has him on the brink of cumming.

His name emblazoned between your shoulder blades is something he still has yet to learn to be normal about, but more than that, he finds that he was right about your skirt not covering an inch of your backside. However, what he wasn’t expecting was for it to perfectly frame the curve of your ass since you’ve apparently decided to forego underwear.

“Fuck me,” he gets out in only a puff of air.

“In due time, Mr. Yoichi,” is all you offer before kissing the mushroom tip, smearing the precum that’s collected on your lips, and then swallowing all that will comfortably fit in your mouth. It takes all the strength he can muster to not instinctively buck into you but he can’t hide the deep groan that comes out involuntarily as he meets the entrance of your throat.

“Fuck. You’re so good at this. Always so good,” he offers as he bundles your hair into his fist, slowly guiding you up and down his length. The praise leads you to moan around him, getting him even closer to the brink of cumming.

To get a better view he props himself up on one shaky arm, massaging all that he can reach, as you use your other hand to fondle his balls. Mere minutes pass before he starts to feel the familiar pit of pleasure begin to grow in his belly and it takes all his willpower to pull you off of him before he cums from the added stimulation. It’s next to a miracle that he manages to hold off even after he’s pulled you off once he sees the thick strings of saliva that still connect the two of you.

“I wasn’t done yet,” you have the audacity to pout.

“I didn’t want to cum yet,” he answers. Even to his own ears, he sounds debauched.

While still catching his breath he pulls you close, encouraging you to straddle him. You do and let out quiet moans as you rut your bare pussy against his length. Despite being so close to cumming before, he’s happy to let you do as you please. When your legs eventually tire, he switches to using both hands on your waist to manhandle you the way he knows you like.

“Tell me how you feel, sweetheart.” He can’t get enough of your sounds, no matter how small. To see how much of a mess you’re making he flips the front of your skirt, his tip coming in and out of view as he rocks you back and forth.

“So good, Yoichi. Your hands feel so good.”

He knows it’s not enough to get you off, that you need more. Eventually, he stops, pulling you down so that your chests meet. If you really want to role play, he figures he should get into the role he’s been assigned.

“Is there more to my award,” he asks, hands roaming under the jersey and under your skirt. There’s nowhere his hands don’t explore while he waits for your answer.

“W-what more do you want?”

He moves his right hand so that it’s between your bodies, spreading your pussy lips so that he can fully appreciate the wetness that’s accumulated. He uses his full palm to rub your clit while he answers.

“You said you’d fuck me in due time, yeah? Or were you all talk?”

“Um…about that.” Your eyes are fluttering, struggling to stay open and focus on his words. He feels like he’s on top of the world seeing how he can ruin you. “I have to t-tell you something.”

“I’m listening baby.” His voice is muffled as he leaves kisses across your neck and cheeks. Anywhere he can reach while you still use him to get off.

“I’ve never done this before.” Your eyes meet.

The proverbial record scratches and again he’s confused.

“What do you mean, you’ve never done this before?” Sure you both have busy schedules but there’s no way this is new to either of you. As a matter of fact, it couldn’t be more than a week since he had you in this exact position-

“I was a virgin when I got to college,” you whisper directly in his ear.

Again you have the upper hand as it feels like he’s been doused with a bucket of ice. The feeling only lasts a second though before it feels like every nerve lights up once he connects that this is still a part of the scene you’ve conjured. Oh.

The idea of you as a virgin has never crossed his mind once until this very moment. Given the age you were when you met, he had no reason to give it consideration. It’s not like he was even a virgin when you met. He makes a mental note to do some soul-searching later to find out why he’s rock hard and nearly brought back to the brink of cumming at the mere idea.

“Do…do you want to keep going?”

You laugh. A full out belly laugh.

“Yoichi, you're so cute. Only you would still be so considerate even in a fantasy.”

If all the blood in his body wasn’t occupied he’d probably blush at your teasing.

“I fucking love you,” you emphasize with a kiss. “Yes, I want to continue.”

Not another word is needed before he’s fully plunged back into the world you’ve created. No, he's never thought about you as a virgin but now that the seed has been planted he’s going to absolutely ruin you.

Within a breath, he’s switched your positions, now with you on your back and him pulling your legs onto his lap as he sits above you.

“Tell me if anything is too much, ok?” He preambles before he sucks both his ring and middle fingers, slowly pushing in one finger, then the other when he deems you ready.

Now that you’re fully on display for him he can’t help but stare. Again, the skirt hides absolutely nothing but he does push the jersey so that your tits are on display for him as well. Seeing you dressed but so exposed has his head swimming.

“You’re so pretty. Prettiest thing I’ve seen on campus.” If he’s going to play along, then he might as well go all out.

He bends at the waist to take in one tit, using his tongue to lick at and bite your nipple, before turning his attention to the other all the while he doesn’t stop pumping his fingers into you.

“Yoichi, please. I need you,” you whine.

He takes pity on you and moves from your chest and back up to your lips, kissing you deeply. God, he’s so in love with you.

“I’m sorry, baby. I just wanted to make sure you were good and ready. I want to make sure I don’t hurt you.”

“I promise I’m ready.”

“Ok, ok. I hear you. But can you do me a favor and clean my fingers for me?”

As soon as his request hits his ears your mouth falls open in a way that can only be described as obedient. He lets you suck at both his fingers until he removes them himself, the way your tongue slips between them turning him on all the more.

“So good for me. I really am a lucky guy, huh?” He watches you preen under his praise as he reaches next to your head for an extra pillow, lifting your hips to situate it underneath you.

“Ok, if you need me to stop just tell me, ok? For any reason.” You nod your head yes.

“Need to hear you say it.”

“Yes, Yoichi. I promise.”

“That’s my good girl.”

He locks his hand in yours before he finally presses into you, both of you moaning as he works his hips into you. It’s a fantasy, sure, but he’s as mindful as he can be to be slow and let you get accustomed to him, even if it’s far from your first times, or even 48 hours since he last fucked you.

He’s captivated by the way your mouth falls open as he fucks into you. It’s familiar but entrances him every time. When you give the go ahead he increases his pace, working at that spot he knows gets you there the fastest.

“More, need more,” and he knows exactly what you need, licking his thumb before rubbing against your clit in tight circles. It’s only through time and experience that he knows exactly how to work your body, confirmed by the way you babble his name as if it’s the only word you know.

“You’re taking me so well. Feel so good, so tight. Can feel you squeezing me. You gonna cum for me?”

“Yeah. Gonna cum for you. So fucking close.” You’re wrecked.

“I know, baby. Tell me what you need.”

“Kiss me.”

Your wish is his command, him meeting your waiting mouth. It’s barely a kiss as you can hardly meet his mouth between your moans but he swallows them all dutifully. It’s when your back arches and you fall near silent beside one final cry of his name does he know that you’re cumming. He pulls away to watch you fall apart.

“That’s my girl. So beautiful. Let it out for me.” The vice around his cock makes it difficult to fuck you through your orgasm but he powers through. Only once you relax does he rut into you a few more times before he loses himself, filling you as deeply as he can manage.

It’s silent once he collapses next to you, both catching your breath. When he catches his breath before you he departs with a peck to your lips before he leaves for the bathroom, returning with a damp rag.

“If that’s what I missed out on then I wouldn’t have minded going to school,” he breaks the reverie, cleaning between your legs before his cum has a chance to cool and become uncomfortable.

“Well, I’m glad everything worked out the way it did. Now I can have you all to myself,” you smile at him. He thinks his heart might burst.

“Yeah…that’s true too. Maybe everything worked out the way it did so that we could meet each other?”

“God, you're so sappy. Gross.” You both know you don’t mean it.

“Yeah, yeah. I love you too.” He once again bends at the waist to meet your lips. Gross or not he’s glad things aligned to this very moment.

You meet him halfway, sitting up on one arm to brush away his damp bangs. When you pull away you meet his gaze.

“I really, really do fucking love you, Yoichi”.

Yeah, he’s sure he’d meet you in every universe.

[keyotosprompts]

i quite literally had a marathon through your acc cus ur prompts are soo goooodd!!

i am currently working on a little oc story and desperately need a creative person's help. basically, my oc is Spiderwoman. she has a mask like Silk from Marvel but its nanotech (like a hologram on her face). i need prompts on how to unmask her. to set the scene its basically like the movie ATSV, where my oc is fighting a villain and at the end of it she meets the other vigilantes and then unmasks herself but idk how and what will cause her to do so (she does it willingly ofc). to make it even more dramatic shes a pretty pretty girl so everyone is like :0 when seeing her unmasked and i just need prompts on how she does so.

i hope this made sense, i am NOT good at wording bc eng isnt my first language but i hope you understood. LOVE U SM, STAY HYDRATED, MWAHH<3

mask off

superhero unmasking prompts hey! thank u for the compliment! ur oc story sounds super cool btw. i always love superhero stories (i have developed an oc for dcu and she's been active in my brain for the last 9 years)

⇴ person a nervously looks around as their mask begins to disappear. their heart is pounding in their chest as the anticipation in the air begins to rise.

⇴ person a takes off their mask to build trust with her new friends (friends, not coworkers!)

⇴ "um. surprise?" "you did not tell me you looked like that."

⇴ ^ "yeah, i think that's the point of a mask."

⇴ person a finally feels safe and comfortable around the other vigilantes, which allows her to finally take off her mask like everyone else has.

⇴ alternatively... person a sees that everyone else has taken their masks off and then takes their own mask off to join the crowd (this one is a lot less sentimental, as person a has no problem revealing their secret identity).

⇴ "wait. you have nanotech masks!? why doesn't my universe have a nanotech mask??"

okay, so i gave u some dialogue and some scenarios, but the superhero nerd in me wants to give u some tips too.

unmasking: reasons

⇴ as a way to build trust

⇴ as a way to build comradery

⇴ because they're all spidermen/spiderwomen/spiderpeople, so there's no reason to keep a secret identity in the first place

⇴ unmasking as a big plotpoint (could be the oc's climax or a way to build relationships between other characters)

unmasking yourself is personal in any circumstance. for example, even though all the spiderpeople in ATSV are seen unmasked, those people are only unmasked around the other spiderpeople, not around the people in their own universe.

when your oc is unmasking, make it a big plot point. how important is their secret identity? are they scared of unmasking after fighting the villain? what are the stakes at hand here?

unmasking: dialogue

since your oc is very pretty, think to yourself of how you would react when seeing a very beautiful person.

⇴ think of how you would respond, and then try to apply it to the other characters. of course, make sure it's not out of character.

if whatever you're thinking is not in line with what one of the characters would think, then don't include it (even if it's for the sake of storytelling).

⇴ when describing how characters are reacting, sometimes (instead of dialogue) using physical characteristics are better.

for example

"you're gorgeous!" person b gasps

person b gapes at person a for a few seconds. their eyes seem like they're bulging out of their head, and suddenly their mouth feels a lot drier than usual. a gulp escapes person b's mouth before saying, "you're gorgeous!"

doesn't that add a lot more? of course, write however you'd like, but if you really want to emphasize a character's beauty, try using physical reactions as well.

[sulfurz]

ೃ༄ MEANT TO BE YOURS (sheamus x fem!reader)

ೃ༄ PAIRING: sheamus x fem!reader

ೃ༄ REQUESTED BY: @lambofjudgement

now that I've finished screaming about how much I love your writing I have a request (to fill out your masterlist a little bit) for sheamus jealousy fluff? where the f!reader's been teaming with the brawling brutes for a while and when they're feuding with Imperium the Imperium tries to convince her she's too good for them? Maybe before they're together, where he's trying to convince her to stay by being extra nice and thoughtful or overprotectiveness of "his girl" that he lets slip accidentally? whichever route you take will be awesome I'm sure of it! <3

ೃ༄ WARNINGS: um idk like?!?! possessiveness ig??? sheamus is just hot n y/n fancies him

ೃ༄ WORD COUNT: 2.6k😳

ೃ༄ NOTE: UMMMM can u tell i got carried away……. i love sheamus sm i met him once and he is genuinely the sweetest guy in the world so a stephen request ????? i am in heaven pls enjoy

in theory, the moment you saw the camera you should have known something was coming.

it was one of those peaceful saturday nights on raw, a rare evening where you didn’t have a match to be a part of in any shape or form. you were simply enjoying the energy backstage as you could hear the crowd thrumming beyond the walls, watching matches that didn’t involve you on the monitor. management had requested you come along for some segments, so you were somewhat on guard, but the most you expected was an interview with renee.

you did not expect for the imperium to trudge towards you, trailed by a camera man as they came over with their proposition.

“are you ready to be on the losing side again?” gunther asked, trailed by his lackeys sad they stopped before you, circling like hyenas on the prowl.

you could only cross your arms in defence. “what makes you so sure we’ll lose?”

ludwig laughed from his leader’s left side, an air of certainess to his posture. “oh come on, y/n. you know as much as we do. you’re too good for those brutes, pardon the pun.”

the brutes in question being the stable you had taken on under your management. the brawling brutes were a separate endeavour to your solo career, but it was no secret the group had thrived under your care. if you had been coerced into joining in the first place by a particularly charming irish man, no one would have to know, either. it just so happened your management were looking for another way to push you, and acting as manager for such a powerful stable seemed like a dream when that opportunity fell in your lap.

but of course, once you proved to yourself and the rest of the wwe universe that you knew how to handle yourself both inside and outside of the ring, it wasn’t long before others tried to hunt you down. the brawling brutes were gaining power quicker than a steamroller, and of course people would give anything to stop them in their tracks.

“and what’s in it for me? if i betray them?” you crossed your arms in front of your chest, playing up to the camera, but asking more for your own gain than anything.

“unprecedented power, y/n. sweet, sweet power.” gunther added, motioning for the rest of his stable to follow as he began to walk away. “think about it, you’ll make the right decision.”

—

you gave a knock to the men’s dressing room door, a telltale shout of ‘decent’ giving away exactly who was in there — his accent certainly stood out amongst most.

pushing open the door, you were met by one single figure hanging back, but the man you needed to see. sheamus was standing there as decent as decent could be for a wwe superstar. it made you blush slightly, but you couldn’t quite understand why. you were used to going arm in arm with the man weekly when he was in nothing more than tight underwear and body oil — yet seeing him standing, clad in nothing but sweats, felt more intimate than before.

“heya, sweetheart.” he mused, charming as ever even when his in ring persona was lessened by the absence of cameras. “missed me that much?”

you rolled your eyes fondly, giving a light shove to his shoulder as you passed to take your place on a bench nearby. “don’t flatter yourself.”

sheamus grinned, a secondary emotion that you couldn’t place flashing past his eyes momentarily. he would never relent, and whilst you always had a rebuttal on the tip of your tongue, you wouldn’t deny how you were consistently forced to turn away, mainly so the man couldn’t see the reddening of your cheeks.

as the leader of the brawling brutes, it was sheamus who you came into contact with the most, and the two of you had built an interesting dynamic over the past few months. he had never hidden his affections for you in the ring, always jumping at an opportunity to be by your side, but you had foolishly put this down to his character, and never thought much of it. he was a naturally charming man, wildly different from everyone else in the roster, and it would have been easy to fall for someone like that. so, aware he was simply just being a character, you shut yourself down to every attempt to place that charm on you, not allowing the possibility for heartbreak.

“i had an interesting conversation today.” you commented quietly, crossing one leg over the other as you watched sheamus ruffle his wet hair from the shower with a towel (bright pink, and strangely familiar? was that a little decal of a flower? where did he get your towel from????). “let’s just say the last thing i was expecting today was to be accosted by imperium.”

sheamus stopped his drying motions immediately, hands coming back down to his side. “imperium? what the hell are they doing? trying to intimidate you?”

you hummed, considering how to approach this. “quite the opposite. in fact, they’ve got it into their minds that i’d be better off by their side, instead of yours.”

then, sheamus barked out a laugh and returned to his prior movements, seemingly unconcerned by the initial offer from your opponents. “well, can’t fault them for trying. as if they’re worthy of you.”

you stayed silent, watching as your friend and in ring partner raided his gym bag in search of a shirt.

“i mean. they’re not wrong when they suggest my style fits theirs slightly better. when i’m on my own i think anyone would have put me with them over you guys.”

silence met you, and when you glanced at sheamus, he wasn’t even looking in your direction. too focused on untangling his shirt straps. for a moment you thought, if that was how much he cared, then you might just take imperium up on their offer—

“you really think that?” sheamus asked darkly, not sparing a glance to his side.

shrugging, you added “i mean, we don’t know for certain but, what have you exactly got to offer me in terms of furthering my career?”

sheamus barked a laugh, but it was void of any humour. “i could list a million reasons why you suit us, sweetheart. how many do you want?”

you raised an eyebrow, his tone rattling straight through you. he was intimidating when he wanted to be, and it was clear that on stage persona was blurring with the man behind the camera for just a second.

“stephen.” you offered as warning, rarely choosing to use superstars’ real names unless the moment required it.

he spun quickly, taking one look at you before any of that hardness slipped away from his features and he was back to looking at you with a level of respect and awe.

“you’ve seen what we can do with you by our sides, y/n. you’re a warrior in and out of the ring. imperium don’t want to further your career, they want to use you for their own benefit.” he took a moment to pull the shirt over his head, before making his way to sit beside you. there was a couple of feet between your positions, but somehow the distance felt even greater.

you hummed, contemplating for just a second. “and? isn’t that what you’re doing? using me for your own benefit?”

when sheamus spoke again, there wasn’t the harshness in his tone like there was before, replaced by the sound of honey dripping off of every word. “we’ve never used you. sure, there’s no denying we’re better with you by our side, but you did all that. imperium want to use you as a pretty show piece, but to us you’re our lifeline.”

you smiled everso slightly, more having to fight the upturn of your lips than anything. “sure you don’t just like a hot woman on your arm every night?”

your stable mate grinned, playfulness returning to the air as he buttered you up. “sure, that’s a bonus, sweetheart. but you’re so much more than that.”

if your heart fluttered slightly at the tone he used, deep and rooted with genuineness, you wouldn’t tell anyone. that was a secret for you to keep.

“you’re a fool if you think we only want you to make us look good.” sheamus began again, shameless as he reached across the space between your bodies, brushing a stray strand of your hair away from your face and behind your ear. another flutter of your heart, this time more like a whisper of wind. “imperium want you to be their arm candy, we want you to be our soul. half the stuff we do wouldn’t be possible without you. you’re one of the strongest women in the roster right now, and that’s not just opinion but a fact, and it’s an honour getting to prove that. you can hold your own, hey, you can be even better, amongst the men, and i think that says everything.”

“you think that highly of me?” you asked, half jokingly, half from a place of needing reassurance. it was easy to doubt yourself amongst so many powerful opponents. “you’re already fighting pretty hard to get me to stay and i barely said anything.”

“you said enough for me to know i don’t want them getting their hands on you.” sheamus muttered, and suddenly the gap between the two of you seemed much smaller than before. “i won’t let them take my girl away that easily.”

your eyes widened at the same time his own demeanour cracked, both noticing the slip of tongue at the same time. again, you were used to the flirting the irish man undertook in the ring, and half of the time outside of it, but any semblance that those layers ran deeper than just kayfabe and your head was in a spin.

another knock at the door brought you out of the moment, a staff member poking his head in to let the two of you know they were closing up soon.

so with a few last goodbyes, you parted ways, this time with a new feeling of confusion in your chest. it was no longer the question of whether the brawling brutes wanted you more than the imperium, but now whether sheamus wanted you more than you wanted to leave.

—

after the segments on the show the week prior, it was no shock when the brawling brutes had one of their promos cut by the imperium themselves. you had expected it really, but it didn’t make the image of the four men wandering down the ramp towards the ring any less intimidating.

you stood just by the curtain of the ring, watching in concern as predator stalked their prey. you could see imperiums eyes on you, and you knew sheamus had noticed too, for he seemed to step in between their view of you protectively.

“well if it isn’t our favourite manager and her lackeys.” gunter began, practically toe to toe with sheamus as they stood leader against leader. “have you given any thought to our little conversation last week, y/n?”

before you could even react, sheamus was speaking on your behalf. “she doesn’t want to run around with little boys, she wants to stick with the men.”

gunther only chuckled into the mic, not quick enough to give his own response before giovanni was adding in himself, “if she wants men, she’s with the wrong team.”

“i wonder, if we asked her now, who’d she’s choose?” gunther challenged, the crowd hollering for you to join the conversation.

“stop fooling yourself, gunther, it’s getting embarrassing—“

sheamus was cut off by gunther once more “why don’t we let the little lady speak for herself?”

if the imperium wanted brownie points, they certainly weren’t getting them speaking about you like that. sheamus seemed to think the same, if the way his fists clenched had anything to do with it. he didn’t seem happy about it, but turned to offer you a hand to climb in the ring nonetheless.

you took his offer of help, jumping inside and trying to ignore how you were sure he was squeezing your hand just a little harder than usual. he seemed reluctant to even let go, but dropped the contact only when butch offered you his own mic to join the chorus.

the outcome of this promo was up to you, your manager had made sure that you knew that fact. he was prepared to damage control whichever side you chose, but how was the moment, and you were more unsure than ever. one look at imperium had you wanting to change allegiance. for all the talk about their true intentions, you knew one thing for certain, and that was imperiums power. they were a force to be reckoned with, and having gunther as an ally? that could do wonders for your career both in the stable and in your own solo endeavours.

yet, as you glanced to your side, seeing how sheamus watched you with uncertainty, the decision began to unblur.

he hadn’t spoken to you since the little dialogue mishap in the locker room. you had, at first, thought maybe he was disgusted by his own words, wishing he could take them back out of sheer unhappiness — but when you looked at him now, you could see past sheamus, and just see stephen, and you realised everything he had said was true.

“sheamus over here seems to have gotten it into his head that your allegiance to him is stronger than your want for success.” gunther’s menacing tone brought you out of your realisation, and you turned back to see how the man towered over you. “but you and i know better, don’t we, y/n? you’re a strong woman, you’ll make the right decision.”

a deep breath. “you’re right gunther.” a gasp echoed throughout the crowd as you seemingly made your decision to turn sides. the man in question watched you with a sly smirk, thinking his plan had worked. “my want for success is stronger than anything. so, i have to choose the side i know will get me there.”

you could practically feel the panicked looks of the brawling brutes, and when you turned to hand butch his microphone back, the expressions of betrayal were just as expected — especially from one particular redhead.

taking a step back, you made to stand with the imperium, facing your other stable-mates as the crowd shouted all sorts of nonsense directed at you, surely horrified by your abandonment. you waited a second, revelling in the reaction and allowing the imperium to glow in what they thought was a victory, before in one swift motion, you landed a back elbow straight into gunther’s stomach.

the crowd cheered again, and you wasted no time in stepping back across the ring to sheamus’ side, the grin creeping across the man’s face larger than you had ever seen before.

as you joined back by his side, he didn’t bother removing the microphone from his lips as he solidified his comment from the week prior. “that’s my girl.”

for once, you didn’t think about consequences, not caring that this wasn’t part of the plan or even prior discussed by the two of you — you knew he wanted it as badly as you by now. so, in one swift motion, coupled with a whisper of ‘your girl’, you grabbed sheamus by the back of the neck and pulled him down to crash your lips together.

if the shout from the rest of the brawling brutes was loud in your ear, the screams of the audience were practically deafening, but you barely focused on the reaction as sheamus dropped the microphone he held to the floor in favour of grabbing ahold of your waist.

[prentissluvr]

i dont have all of my sam thots and dean thoughts just yet but I had to send in this bc I completely forgot about meg! sam

and its a damn shame that we didn't see more of that bc it solidified my stance on being a sam girlie

we got at least 3 episodes of demon dean (i have not seen him yet i've only heard about it) but we got like less than half an hour with meg! sam and honestly we deserved more with him

meg! sam made me feel lots of things LOLL

(i wanted to be jo SO BAD in that episode LMAO)

now i need your thots on him please :p

KJDFSJL NO BECAUSE... NOOO I CANT thinking about the amount of meg!sam edits i've seen in the past few days. thinking about the one saved in my camera roll. thinking about throwing up pissing my pants projectile vomiting and passing the fuck out. i reiterate tho, i'm normal!! i'm so so so normal and i don't feel things about it!!!!!!!

i'm honestly still like borderline unsure about how nsfw i want to get on this blog, but uhhh i'm just gonna start typing and see where my dirty fucking mind takes me!

cw : highly suggestive!! no smut, but still absolutely no minors!! MDNI!! contains condescending/mean/possessed sam, but also sweet sam too <33. use of gendered terms, but it is gender inclusive to fem, masc, and gn as much as i could make it! horrible writing it's genuinely just me going feral :))

sooo basically for me the worst (best) part of meg!sam was his voice! it's so bad (never have i ever heard anything hotter in my life). IDK I DONT EVEN THINK I CAN FORM A COHERENT THOUGHT OVER THIS NOT GONNA LIE. uhm uhhh ummmm uhhhh uhmmmm.

so basically so basically, essentially, wwowowowowowowowifjhshf alright lets focus on one thing at a time.

we'll start with that goddamn voice of his. the way it goes from teasing, condescending to deeper, more gravelly and matter-of-fact and then back to condescending LIKE WHOO IM GONNA NEED TO TAKE A LAP. idk just thinking about his large hand on the back of your head, maybe tangled in your hair if the way you wear it allows for that, and his veiny forearm visible through your peripheral vision as he says "open up.. that's a girl" like he did to jo😭😭😭 (or he's says "thaaat's it" to keep things gender neutral, dragging out the "that's" for an extra second, that extra gravel in his condescending tone).

and while this is in possessed!sam context, he'd definitely say things like that normally, i do personally envision him to be less condescending and more sincere. either way, hot as fuck if you ask me. also this isn't meg!sam, but in season seven he says "good girl" and i do listen to that clip several times a day, i am so serious when i say that and i have no shame about it!! i have daddy issues so i do not care!!! so yeah he also says good girl/boy/whatever variation you enjoy best <3 uhmmm yeah but the main point is his hot as fuck voice, right next to your ear with his breath tickling you sensitive skin. especially with that whisper. oh god the whisper😭 and along with "that's a girl," there's atta girl and he'd use that one too so i'll go die in a hole :))) but yeah he genuinely thinks you're so good for him so expect that praise, whether you want it sweet or mean.

then we also have his facial expressions!! the smirk he uses to rile you up or that he flashes you, all mean and haughty because he knows he's getting to you. the fake pity too!! lord help me, once again the utterly fake pity just falls under that condescending persona that was so hot about meg!sam. i'm just gonna use photo evidence and you can imagine him looking at you like that!! enjoy!

last thing i have to say about meg!sam is manhandling!! ahahaahahahaahahah i'm normal and okay!! (this is a cry for help i need him so bad). um yeah while i hate the context of the manhandling of jo in the episode because it's crossing so many boundaries, i will still enjoy the fact that he is hot. so yeah! have fun thinking about sam whirling you around and pinning you between his chest and nearest surface, hand on your forehead to tilt your chin up and give him full access to the skin of your neck. his other hand is pinning your wrist to whatever surface is behind you, and your own free hand is tangled in his hair and he lays wet, desperate kisses all over your neck and collarbone. that's all hahahahaha :)))) feeling so sane right now!!

[nnight-dances]

HOW YOU FALL FOR SEVETEEN (FT. MY FAVORITES LINE)

the title is self-explanatory but also a complete lie, i love all the members so much but thanks to it being like my first month as a seventeen enjoyer, i only so much about so many members. this is purely self-indulgent so feel free to let me know how insane i sound and also, if i messed up their personalities.

as mentioned before, jeonghan is my favorite and thus, you can see how i’m being particularly mean to him. hate is my love language <3 also, someone please teach me how to write scoups because i love the man so much (no idc if he’s like a decade older than me) but could not bring myself to write anything for him. thanks, friends and foes!

jeonghan

…unrequited love probably? LMAO sorry but he’s my bias and i am convinced his standards are really, really high. like you’d have to discover and name a new continent after him before he looks your way.

okay, i’ll stop being mean and start being more delusional: a strangers to lovers maybe? because i feel like he’d be fascinated by you at first so he’d get to know you slowly. you’re wary of him when he tries to get closer to you,, because like… why is this sly devil of a man throwing you eye smiles left and right?

anyways, the moment you let your guard down around him, he’d invade every waking thought you have until you don’t have a choice but to rant to him… about him. yes, he’d watch with a smug smile on his face, as if he’d planned every second of this, and patiently wait for you to finish before leaning in and kissing you because apparently, his feelings were “obvious enough” (his words when you shriek away from him)

mingyu

best friends to lovers, for sure (and i imagine it’d be something like this)

it’s because even though he’s extroverted, i just feel like he’s still pretty reserved and so i think it’d take a long time of knowing him to be intimate enough to be a lover?

he wouldn’t have being anything more than friends for a long time because he enjoys the space of a friendship and he thinks of it as a test for how well the two of you can work out. mans taking this way too seriously but it pays off when one day he gets to call himself your boyfriend.

be careful though, i feel like timing matters a lot with him, and if you get it wrong…

hoshi

ummm this one is hard because the possibilities with hoshi are so endless?? anything could works?? he’s just so loveable that any way you meet him would be so precious

but since he’s introverted, i feel like with him it’d take a long to move on from one phase to another just because both of you are unwilling to budge. like it’s a waiting game with you guys where both of you are constantly dropping hints and neither is picking anything up.

so i’m thinking a fake dating situation for some external pressure that slowly reveals how comfortable pretending to date hoshi seems… maybe because you’ve always been a little more than friends….?

dk

oh god, another loveable one, someone save me… um but in full seriousness, he’s so sweet i can’t imagine anything that wouldn’t work with him

but i’m leaning toward idiots to lovers with a LOT OF mutual pining because neither of you can tell if the other is flirting or just that nice to everyone (spoiler: you both suck at flirting so the fact that the possibility is even being discussed in the slightest… yeah, you’re down bad for each other)

idk he’d be so easy to fall for that even if you’re not generally too good-natured, it’d take everything to not go the extra mile for dk

the8

academic rivals to lovers is soooooo enticing with this one,, because you’d have to match him point to point for his pretentious but wise tendencies to keep up in a romantic relationship

and like, tell me if i’m wrong, but it’d be clear from the beginning that the two of you transcended the boundaries of friends because you’d dwell on the others’ actions for wayy too long for it be friendly banter or even genuinely malicious scheming

just takes you a frustratingly long time to smooth out the feelings because you know you want to maintain a slightly hostile tone when it comes to him or your life would lose all meaning and stimulation

wonwoo

listen … i’m considering one-sided love to lovers? because how could you not fall for wonwoo when you first get to know him? he’s just weirdly good at everything… and so calm

but when you let him know your feelings, i think he’d be so awkward about rejecting you (maybe because doesn’t truly want to) and you’d catch on pretty quick

fast forward to a few months and you’re still friends with him because well… he’s way too captivating for you to leave. so you’ve been pining from the sidelines for a while until wonwoo wakes up one day with the sudden awakening that he enjoys your company as something more than friendship

yeah, took him long enough, but he’s so sweet when he confesses that your heart breaks a little. he apologizes to the verge of tears for making you wait? and thanks you for not abandoning him? and then shyly admits that those things just made him fall for you more.

joshua

you don’t understand. there is nothing but an enemies to lovers in store with this one because he looks so normal that you unsuspectingly try to befriend him, only to be shocked by his attitude. he’s a little bitch. and for what.

for one, he’s so hard to understand, only showing the slightest surface of his personality and when he does,,, well, your head’s suddenly throbbing because what the fuck. someone restrain this man.

no but you’re always ready to fight him especially because he makes it his life mission to follow you around and one thing leads to another until he’s … um in love.

you promise you have an out of body experience when he tells you he’s in love with you, showing unprecedented seriousness, and his sincerity alone would’ve been enough to woo you

[c0la-queen]

Hi um..can i please request some matt from eddsworld x reader whenever you feel like it

Im just heavily love that silly man and i rarely see matt x reader anywhere and it makes me sorta upsetti spaghetti lol-

You dont have to do this you can delete this if you want ^^' i just thought i could at least ask this for like. Idk a early birthday present thingy for myself

Better Than Cake | Matt x Reader

I am absolutely ECSTATIC to write this for you, love! Consider it MY early birthday present to you! I definitely agree that Matt is under represented in the Eddsworld x Reader realm, so please don't hesitate to request him from me anytime that you'd like! I don't bite, promise! I'm a little inexperienced with writing gender neutral readers, but I've read plenty, so hopefully I can do justice in this one! Enjoy, and Happy Birthday, Anon!

Warnings: Matt is a bimbo, love him to death, he is THE girl's girl (and also non-binary's girl ofc <3) this is just pure fluff, angst if you squint, body dysphoria if you squint, but its a very short moment and the drabble is overall happy and sweet

Words: Nearly 1.5k

---

"Matt, what is all this about?"

You bit your tongue gently, trying to swallow back the giddy giggles as you looked over your bed. Sitting on the mattress were three boxes wrapped in Matt's favorite lavender wrapping paper. One was thin but long, one was average sized, and the third was smaller.

Matt leaned against the door frame of your room, trying his best - and failing - to hide the excited grin on his face.

"What does it look like, lovie?"

You turned and pouted at Matt. By now, you were well accustomed to his habit of gift-giving. That didn't stop you from feeling a tad guilty about it every time. And this just felt excessive.

"Matt, really, you didn't have to get me anything at all, let alone three things-"

He snorted, rolling his eyes playfully.

"Nonsense. Of course I'm going to get you birthday presents. Besides, those are only part of your presents."

You felt your face burn.

"What? What do you mean? There's more?"

Matt let himself laugh now, standing up straight.

"You'll see. Now I'll leave you to open them. Let me know if you have any trouble getting those on."

He was out of the room before you could question him, shutting the door behind him. You blinked in the silence of your room. 'Have trouble getting those on'? What could he possibly mean by that?

Your eyes drifted back to the boxes on your bed.

No…

He didn't…

…did he?

Trembling slightly from anticipation, you slowly opened the first box, the long one. Inside, amongst the gift tissue, was a silky fabric of your favorite color. Internally, a part of you grimaced. You didn't mean to be ungrateful, really. You loved Matt to death. But… part of you couldn't help but be disappointed that he had gotten you another dress. Still, you'd wear it to make him happy.

You paused when you lifted up the fabric out of the box. It wasn't a dress. It was… pants. Dress pants. Really nice dress pants. Huh?

You looked in the box again. There was more. You took it all out, and your breath caught in your throat. The dress pants came with a matching sweater vest and crème colored button down shirt. There was a lump in your chest that you fought to keep down.

There were still two more boxes, anyway. You couldn't imagine what else Matt could have gotten you.

Next, you opened the average sized box. A bottle of cologne. The glass was round, and you could see a purple tint in the glass. When you tested it out, you were met with a citrus-y scent. You couldn't stop the soft laugh that left you. It was the same cologne that Matt used. You had mentioned to him several times before that you loved how he smelled. He remembered.

The last box, the little one, completely took your breath away. Inside was a gold chain with a little round gold pendant engraved with an image of iris flowers, as well as a pair of matching gold earrings, the dangling chains ended with small purple butterflies.

It was all… beautiful. Your chest ached as you realized just how happy you were.

Part of you was tempted to run out the door, hunt down Matt, and kiss him until he couldn't breathe. But then his words echoed in your head. He wanted you to try the outfit on. And, well, you couldn't refuse, could you?

You must have been staring at yourself in the mirror for about 10 minutes, taking in how you looked in the outfit. Emotions sat heavy in your lungs, and you felt tears brimming in your eyes. For the first time in a long time, you felt… like yourself. You looked at your reflection and it was you. Really you.

A knock on your door broke you out of your trance.

"You alright in there, lovie? If you're having any trouble getting it on, I can-"

You didn't let Matt finish the thought.

You threw open the door, throwing your arms around his torso tightly. Matt gave a little 'oof' in surprise, but quickly wrapped his arms around you tightly.

"I'm guessing you like it, then?"

Matt must not have expected you to be crying, because when you pulled away and he saw your misty eyes, a panicked expression crossed his face. You gave him a bright, reassuring smile.

"I love it. All of it. So much. Thank you."

Content that your tears were of happiness, Matt's eyes swept down your body, inspecting the outfit he had gifted you. When his eyes met yours again, you saw nothing but pure affection in those baby blues. You fidgeted under that look, shyly looking down at the shoes that you had paired with the outfit.

Matt's finger hooked gently under your chin, tilting your head up until you were once again looking into his eyes. He smiled so sweetly.

"You look positively radiant, lovie."

You couldn't stop the giggle from escaping you now. Your entire body buzzed from how giddy you felt. Matt, still smiling, tapped your nose lightly.

"Are you ready to go?"

Go?

You focused more closely on Matt now. He was wearing black dress pants and a lilac button down shirt. You felt your eye twitch when you noticed that the top two buttons were undone, revealing a peek of the pale, freckled skin underneath. He was also holding a bouquet of blue-purple iris flowers.

Matt snickered at your confused look.

"I'm taking you out on a birthday dinner."

That explained the outfit, and his. But…

"What's with the iris flowers?"

Not only had he gotten you a bouquet of them, but the necklace he gifted you was also engraved with them.

"Iris flowers are a symbol of admiration. ..among other things, all good!! Sure, there are other flowers with romantic meanings, but I thought it would be cute to grab these, since they're purple, and purple is like… my thing…"

His confidence faltered slightly as he rambled, seemingly unsure. You waved your hands in the air between you.

"They're perfect, Matt. I think they're wonderful."

His chest puffed out in pride as you took the bouquet from them. He followed you down to the kitchen, waiting patiently as you somehow found a vase to put the flowers in. Minorly, you wondered if the vase was from Edd's ex girlfriend that you had heard about.

"What the hell are you two all dressed up for?"

Tom leaned against the kitchen doorway. He was poorly hiding a pack of cigarettes behind his back.

"We're going out tonight. Tell Edd that we'll be back after dinner. Also, don't let him catch you with those. You know how pissed he'll be."

Tom huffed at Matt's words, but didn't dispute it.

"I'll let him know where you are."

He glanced at you.

"You look great in that. Have fun, mate."

A warm feeling spread in your chest at the compliment.

Matt turned to you and extended an arm with a grin.

With a grin of your own, you took his arm.

--

The restaurant that Matt had brought you to was nicer than you had expected. It wasn't anything that you could see celebrities or the upper class citizens dining at, but it was definitely very formal. You were given a table at the window, with a lovely view of the city skyline, watching the setting sun as you ate. Matt insisted on ordering a bottle of champagne, not listening to any of your half-hearted protests. It was sweet and bubbly, and every sip made your body feel warm. Matt made sure you didn't drink too much, though.

You were so busy enjoying the last bit of your food, looking out at the moon, to notice what Matt was doing. When he gave a quiet, displeased hum, you looked back over at him.

"What's wrong?"

Matt was focused on the little dessert menu that had been left on the table. His eyebrows were furrowed slightly.

"Of all the fancy sweets they've got, there's not a single cake option."

For possibly the hundredth time that night, you laughed softly. Your hand found his across the table, hands intertwining gently. He looked back up at you, love dancing in his eyes.

"That's alright, pretty boy. Tonight has been more than lovely enough to make up for that. You've made this the most perfect birthday I've ever had."

Matt set aside the dessert menu, taking your hand in both of his. He brought it up and pressed his lips to your knuckles in a tender kiss.

"Just you wait, lovie. I plan to make every birthday better than the last. Nothing but the best for my significant other."

If it was possible, you felt yourself falling even deeper in love with him.

"Let's go home, Matt."

[obwjam]

a small surprise part 5 (gravity falls g/t)

idk what it is about this project that's getting me to write so much but damn it, who am i to question it! i hope you're all enjoying!!

this story is now on ao3 if you prefer to read it that way!

part 1 • 2 • 3 • 4

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

It was hard, but not as hard as Jay thought it would be.

She had always been curious about humans, more so than any borrower she’d ever known. It was part of the reason she was shunned from so many forest clans, but she hardly cared. If she was known as the house dweller, then so be it. She didn’t hide in cowardice and let fear control her life. She had a sense of adventure. She had freedom.

Perhaps that’s what drew her to Ford in the first place. She knew how dangerous humans could be, but she knew how to be careful. She could safely observe him from a distance – or so she thought. As it turned out, she really didn’t know what she was getting into with him, but she couldn’t look away. His curiosity and enthusiasm for the weird and unknown was downright infectious. And yeah, it was terrifying. But it was also exhilarating.

Stanley had this way of capturing her attention, too, though she still didn’t quite understand how. It certainly wasn’t his sparkling personality or his kindhearted generosity. It was… something more intangible. Maybe it was the way he was so beyond dedicated to fixing the portal, something he would be the first to admit made absolutely zero sense to him, to the point where he wouldn’t even realize – or care – that he was working nonstop through the night. Maybe it was the way he would very sloppily eat, leaving crumbs strewn about that he conveniently forgot to clean up, or he’d break off a piece of food and slowly push it across the table when he thought she wasn’t looking. Or maybe it was just because he’s the closest thing to Ford that Jay was ever going to see again.

So even after the entire incident, even when Jay couldn’t close her eyes without feeling an inexplicable pressure rushing down on her, even when she shook like it was minus 20 degrees, she didn’t run. She sure thought about it, but in her mind, if she wasn’t 100% committed, then she wasn’t going to do it, because a significant part of her didn’t want to leave the house. She had gotten so used to it, finally, a place she never had to leave or hide or worry. She supposed this is why borrowers were never supposed to meet humans – complacency and comfort were dangerous things. But she’d be damned if Ford’s stupid meathead of a brother drove her from the one place she finally felt at home. She had earned this. She had to be better than him. She had to get Ford back. And even if she did manage to get herself off the table without suffering a major injury, it would only be a matter of time before she needed to come out again for food and water.

Plus, it was the dead of winter, and living on her own without a proper shelter would be deadly. Maybe she could find a warm corner in the walls, far enough away from Stan that he’d never find her, but that was a lot of work she didn’t have the energy for. She briefly contemplated the attic, but quickly dismissed it. Too many triangles.

The day after the incident was, admittedly, rough. And awkward. Neither of them wanted to say a word to the other, but Stan was clearly surprised to see her still on the table come morning. Besides a very long stretch of eye contact, he barely acknowledged her, but was clearly nervous to make any sudden movements and produce any loud noises. Jay didn’t really know what to do, and she was effectively marooned on the table, so she curled up around the stack of books and continued to sit in turmoil about, well… everything. 

“You, uh, want to keep staying here for the night? On the table, I mean.”

Jay snapped back to attention. It felt like Stan had just gotten down here. He had been working for 10 nonstop hours. 

“Um.” She wasn’t expecting to speak today. Her lip trembled as she gazed up at him. “It’s fine.”

“Okay then,” Stan replied, voice as neutral as she’s ever heard it. He stared at her for a good, long while, trying to figure out what he’d do if he came back down here tomorrow and she was gone. She was looking back at him as if he was about to strike. “It’s just – you, uh, you’ve been sitting on that table for like, a week now.” Huh. Has it really been that long? “Just thought you might – I dunno, get bored or something. And it’s freezing down here.” 

“It’s fine,” she repeated after a moment, mostly because her brain was too fried to come up with more words. But she didn’t like what he was implying, anyway. If she was going to get off the table, it would be on her terms.

Stan felt a slight frustration bubble up inside him, and judging by the way she reacted, it was written all over his face. He gave a quick sigh and opened his mouth to speak, but found he didn’t really have anything to say, so he left in an uncomfortable silence.

Over the next few days, though, it got better. Conversations were few and far between, but Jay mostly watched him work. It was actually kind of mesmerizing, the way he moved around so effortlessly and had a kind of raw strength not even Ford possessed. He was lifting pieces of metal and pushing around gigantic barrels that the two scientists used to need all their combined strength to even budge. He had stopped asking her for help, instead burying his face in the journal in an attempt to understand it all by himself. How much good that did him, Jay couldn’t quite tell, but he had managed to put a lot of the broken pieces back together, even if nothing actually turned on. 

Today had started mostly quiet, but as the hours passed, the curse words became more frequent and the slamming down of tools became a common occurrence. Stan was hitting a wall. He needed a drink.

“Hey, short stack, where does Poindexter keep the extra drinks?”

Jay peeked an eye open. She didn’t even hear him reenter the room. Had she been asleep all this time? “Uh oh, don’t tell me you passed out again.”

Jay pushed herself up on shaky arms. She had been sleeping a lot lately... 

“Um, I’m fine. And, I dunno… the fridge?”

“The fridge is empty. Drank up all his sodas and… other beverages. I need to know where the extra cases are. Poindexter’s always stocked up.”

“Extra cases?” Jay was hesitant. This felt like a trick. “Wouldn’t it… just be what’s in the fridge?”

“Haven’t you seen this place? It’s ready for the apocalypse. Besides, you’ve been here longer than I have, right?” Stan asked rhetorically, pulling up the stool and plopping down above her. Jay recoiled a bit, but regained her composure with a curt nod. “Shouldn’t you know where he keeps things?”

“Yeah, well, I–” she stopped. “I mean, you saw him before he… you know.” Jay shuddered at the memory. “He wasn’t entirely himself. I dunno where he might have put stuff.”

“Yeah, he pointed a crossbow at my face after sending me a postcard to come see him,” Stan grumbled, crossing his arms. He had tried his hardest to avoid thinking about that night. “Even after all these years… it didn’t feel like my brother.”

Jay nodded somberly. “Yeah.”

A sharp silence fell over the two. Their minds both swirled with questions about Ford; their time knowing him seemed to perfectly fill in the gaps that existed within both their relationships. Ford never talked about his time pre-Gravity Falls, except while reminiscing about college. Stan could tell her all about that. And Jay knew everything he’d been up to out on the west coast. But neither wanted to ask the other, and neither wanted to admit they were curious. So the silence stretched out until Jay was forced to ask the obvious, more pressing question.

“Is there… no food left? At all?”

Stan sat still for a moment. “Not really.”

“Oh.” Jay fiddled with her fingers. “Shouldn’t you, um… go buy some more, then?”

Despite trying to be as delicate as possible, she knew she made a mistake the moment the words left her mouth. Normally, the comment wouldn’t have bothered Stan so much, but he was at his wit’s end today, and he wasn’t in the mood to be bossed around. When he got particularly frustrated, there was only one rule — don’t say anything provoking. Just smile and nod and agree with everything he says. Jay was still learning.

“What did you just say?”

Jay shook her head. “Nothing, I was just – I meant –”

“No, I don’t think you understand. You’re not in charge here, you realize that, right?” A shadow passed over Stan’s face, and Jay clung to the cloth to hide her trembles. “You can’t tell me what to do. Nobody tells me what to do. Ever. Got it?”

Jay nodded her head vigorously, her gaze flickering between Stan’s giant, angry face and his giant, twitchy hands. “Sorry, it’s just – I thought humans needed to eat every day, that’s all.”

Stan gave her a look she could only describe as baffled. “What?”

“I – I meant –” Jay stuttered, her expression reserved. “What’s confusing about that?”

“You just called me human.”

Jay was even more confused now. “Isn’t that – yeah, that’s what you are.”

“Well, yeah, I guess, but –” Stan stopped, unsure where to go from there. He could practically feel the gears in his brain turning, trying to figure out why she worded that so weirdly, when he remembered that word she called herself – borrower. Clearly, there was a distinction to her. “What, and you don’t have to eat every day?”

She shrugged sheepishly. “Not… really. I can go a while without food or water.”

“Huh.” Stan didn’t think it would be any different. He suddenly felt stupid for leaving her food crumbs every day.  “That’s, uh. That’s strange.”

Jay didn’t say anything. What could she say?

Stan cleared his throat after a moment. “Well, I’m, uh… I guess I gotta go get some groceries, then.”

Jay blinked until realizing Stan was waiting for a response. “Oh. Okay.”

He pressed his palms on the table on either side of her and stood up, nearly causing Jay to fall backwards. Instead, she simply gawked at him as he walked toward the exit.

He stopped, though, and turned back around to look at her. They both stared.

“What?” Jay finally asked.

“What?” Stan repeated.

“Why are you just staring at me?”

“You’re the one staring at me!”

“Well, yeah, I’m waiting for you to leave!”

“Why? What are you gonna do when I’m gone?”

“Nothing! You just said you were leaving! So I’m waiting!”

Stan peered at her, taking a step closer. “Now I don’t trust you.”

“Wh–what could I possibly do!” Jay cried, throwing her arms out.

“I dunno, but you’re crafty. And trust me, I would know.”

“C’mon, there’s nothing I could even–”

“What if you’ve just been waiting for me to leave, and you try and sabotage that journal? Or mess with the portal somehow? I can’t take that chance…”

Before Jay could even process what that meant, her entire world was swept out from under her. She felt a familiar pressure on her stomach and back, and the blood rushed to her head as Stan pinched her waist and lifted her into the air. For a moment, everything was blurry, and then, darkness. She was flipped upside down on her back like a bug, comically flailing her limbs to swing herself upright. She eventually reached forward and grasped something soft, pulling herself up to her knees.

She knew this feeling all too well.

Stan lurched forward, not stopping for a second, his mission apparent. Jay used all her strength to grip the lip of his pocket and pull herself up.

“STANLEY!!!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. “YOU CAN’T DO THIS! PUT ME BACK DOWN!”

Stan looked down – well, he tried to. All she could see was the underside of his chin, and all he could see was his red coat. 

“I can’t? Looks like I already did, kid,” he said mockingly. “If I can’t trust you to stay outta trouble, then you gotta come with me. Simple as that.”

“STAN–!” she would have yelled more, but she was thrown around when he stopped walking. “You can’t – I’m not supposed to –”

“If you’re worried someone’s gonna see you, trust me, they won’t,” he said, summoning the elevator. “I’m just goin’ into town for a minute and leaving. I don’t wanna be there long.”

“You don’t understand, people in this town, they’re –” she stopped, realizing her voice was shaking more than she wanted it to. “They’re – they’re too – curious for their own good, sometimes.”

“It’s cute of you to worry for me,” Stan said, stepping out onto the main floor. Jay squeaked in surprise as Stan gently pressed his finger down, pushing her fully into the pocket. “Now, pipe down unless you want everyone staring at us.”

“STAN!” she cried, but mainly out of frustration. He was right – she wanted no attention from those lunatics. But it wasn’t the fact that she was being brought into town that bothered her; it was that she was being brought into town against her will. In about 30 seconds, she had gone from sitting on the table by herself to being forcibly shoved into a dirty, smelly pocket. And it was dirty. Paper clips, lint balls, gum wrappers. Why was he even putting these things in his breast pocket, anyway? It was hard not to feel like just another piece of junk rattling around, destined to be forgotten.

Honestly, maybe it would be better to be forgotten. Why did Stan think she was going to do something to the portal? It’s not like she was never left alone down there. Some days, he actually remembered to go upstairs and sleep in an actual bed and not with his head down on the desk. Jay could have done anything during that time. But maybe trying to find logic in Stan’s actions was just a fruitless effort. He was just so – unpredictable. She never knew what he was going to say, how he was going to react. Any little thing could set him off. One second, he would be delicate, and the next, he’d grab her because he felt like it. She wasn’t sure how to work around that, or if she even could. 

The long trip gave her extra time to think, and her mind drifted to Ford. It was beginning to hit her that she may never see him again. Stan was admittedly noble for trying to figure out the portal, but it didn’t take Ford-level brains to see that he was probably not going to figure it out anytime soon, despite his efforts to make it work by sheer force. And he couldn’t seem to figure out if he actually wanted Jay’s help or just wanted to ride some kind of sadistic power trip over her. She figured he didn’t know, either.

She missed her playful banter with Ford. She missed when she would do something completely normal and he would treat it like a scientific breakthrough. She missed asking him about human stuff. She missed telling him all about borrowers as he excitedly jotted down, word-for-word, whatever she said. Ford was everything she knew a human could be. He cared about her struggles. Even if he didn’t fully understand, even if he didn’t always do the right thing, he tried, and that was all that mattered. And in all likelihood, she was never going to experience that again. Maybe it wasn’t meant to last more than a few years. Maybe that was all it was ever going to be.

High above her, Stan was caught up in his own turmoil. He tried to pretend that he wasn’t harboring a tiny being in his pocket, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t laser focused on the little weight in his pocket. He found himself wondering how it felt to be in there – carted around by a huge person, stuffed in a hot, tiny space. He would hate it. She probably did, too.

He couldn't decide if he liked her or thought she was disgusting. It was hard to imagine her being all that clean; but then again, he wasn’t exactly the shining example of hygiene. But she could get her little grimy hands all over his stuff! Like some kind of – little rat person. It all felt so unnatural. It was like having a pet he could talk to; but a pet with a really, really high IQ. 

Stan was a little baffled and a lot embarrassed at how much smarter she was than him. He supposed it was only natural after spending that much time with Ford, but it still made him angry. She was tiny. A pipsqueak! Stan could pin her down with one finger and almost no effort. She could get lost in the house and Stan would never be able to find her. How could something – someone – like that be so… observant? Astute? Sure of herself? It was just weird. Even in her moments of terror and confusion, she never came across as helpless, despite what she might think. If anything, she was intimidating at that size, carrying herself with a confidence that Stan knew he did not possess himself. And the way she reacted after the incident was nothing short of intriguing. Stan found it hard to care about people who weren’t himself, but the fear she exhibited in that moment of vulnerability surprised Stan so much that he couldn’t stop thinking about it. What had happened in her life to make her react like that? Stan knew she’d never tell him. But maybe one day, she would.

Suddenly, Jay’s vision was flooded with light, but all she could see was one of Stan’s massive eyes, peering at her, trying to make out her form. “You okay in there, short stuff?”

She was taken aback by the seemingly considerate question, so all she could do was nod. Stan barely saw it, but that was enough for him. “Good. We’re about to hit town.”

The next couple of hours were a blur. There was a lot of voices, a lot of stammering, a very fast heartbeat, and a lot of muffled protest. Just when Jay thought it was safe to peek out, there were no fewer than a dozen people following Stan back through town. And to her horror, he was leading them right back to the house, awkwardly trying to answer the questions thrown at him. Jay heard the familiar creak of the front door and nearly smacked her forehead. Why was he inviting them inside?! 

But not too long after, something in Stan’s demeanor changed. His body wasn’t rigid and nervous; it was pulsing with excitement. Jay’s stomach sank. This couldn’t be good.

Eventually, the noise stopped, and the voices died down. Whatever just happened, it was all over now.

“Oh, good, you’re still in there.”

Jay shut her eyes as light from the outside once again blinded her. She let out a squeak when Stan’s hand cupped her and lifted her into the air, holding her at eye level. Her heart was racing. He was beaming.

“Stanley…” she started, taking a moment to look around. Everyone else was gone, but she had to make sure this wasn't a trick. Stan’s hand twitched each time she pressed down on his palm with hers. “What just happened?”

“The best thing to ever happen to me just happened, kid!” Jay winced; he had never heard his voice so full of joy. “I mean, sure, those people? Total nutjobs. But they’re nutjobs with cash! Can you believe it? They want to pay for this junk!”

Jay was confused. “Pay for it?” 

“Didn’t you hear anything in there? I’m turnin’ this place into a tourist trap! We’re gonna be rich, tiny!”

Jay blinked. She had to suppress her desire to be sassy. None of this was making sense to her.

“Oh, don’t give me that look! It’s perfect! You can work on the portal during the day, then when I close up shop for the night, I can do all the stuff you can’t!” Stan tapped his chin. “Which is a lot, actually.”

Jay rolled her eyes, but he wasn’t done yet.

“Don’t you realize what this means? I’ll be able to buy us food, water, anything you want! We just have to fix this place up and get the word out, but if the tourists are even half as smart as the people in this town, that’ll be a piece of cake. Say, how does The Murder Hut sound to you?”

Jay stared, bewildered. Stan had this hunger in his eyes – the kind Ford used to get when he was on the verge of a breakthrough. But something still didn’t make sense to her.

“Hold on. I’m lost. You want to clean up the house and…”

“Make it a tourist trap, I already said that! People will come in, look at the stupid crap I set up, and then spend all their disposable income on gimmicky souvenirs! I’m sure all the weird stuff Ford’s been hoarding will–”

“Wait, wait. You mean… people, complete strangers, are just gonna be… wandering in and out of the house? All the time?”

Stan nodded with a grin. “Every day, baby!”

Jay was floored. That sounded insane! Ford wouldn’t want this! How could Stan even think to ruin his life’s work like that? And what if they discovered the portal?

“You can’t – this is Ford’s home! He built it from the ground up! This is is whole life! You can’t just–”

“Listen, kid, I know you don’t really know how this all works,” Stan cut in, trying not to get too angry. “But believe me when I say there is nothing we can do to get my brother back if I don’t have the money to keep the lights on. And right now, this is the best option I’ve got. All we have to do is move around some stuff and make this top floor like a museum. Nobody will ever go downstairs; it’ll be our little secret. Make sense?”

“A – museum?” Jay knew what that was. Humans would display artifacts and things they found interesting inside. And if Stan wanted to put all of Ford’s research on display… what would be more interesting for humans to look at than–

“Don’t worry, kid, I’m not gonna stick you in a display case,” Stan said, his usual snappiness pulled back just a touch. Holding her so close to him, it was painfully obvious when her mind wandered to the worst-case scenario. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

Jay wasn’t sure if she believed him, but she had no choice but to trust him. “I mean – thanks. But I just – I dunno, I…” She stole a glance at Stan’s face, but quickly looked away. God, he was so close. So big. “That’s a lot of people to hide from, you know?”

Stan sighed. He wanted to roll his eyes and tell her to stop whining, but the tug in his gut made him soften his expression. “I’ll make sure nobody sees you, kid. I promise.”

Jay didn’t know what to say. Stan had never sounded that sincere before.

“Look, I know you don’t think very highly of me, and I guess I haven’t done much to prove otherwise. But there is nothing I wouldn’t do for my family. So if it means rearranging my brother’s home, selling myself out for a quick buck, and worrying about some shrimp who can’t even walk across the room without my help… then I’m gonna do whatever it takes. This is the only way, Jay.”

Jay sat in silence for a long moment before letting out a long, drawn out sigh. How did Stan do this to her? How did he manage to make her feel okay about all this? How did she feel so safe in his hand right now? It must be a Pines thing.

Stan waited with bated breath for Jay to say something. Just when he concluded she might not say a thing, the unmistakable sound of her tiny voice hit his ears.

“The Murder Hut is a terrible name.”

Stan blinked. He was not expecting that. He stared at her – this tiny, remarkable little being, just sitting in his hand, legs crossed, arms pushing down, regarding him with equal amounts of wonder and disgust – and burst out laughing. She flinched at the sound at first, but soon found that she couldn't help herself. Laughter was contagious.

“What!” Stan said through chuckles. “How – how could you say that! It’s a great name!”

Jay couldn’t stop smiling. “Why would people want to go to a place advertising murder?”

“Oh, come on! It’s edgy, it’s mysterious. It’s what the people want.”

“If you want mystery… why not just name it, like, the Mystery Hut instead?”

“Oh, please! That’s… huh.” Stan thought about it for a moment. “That’s actually pretty good.”

Jay raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah! A mysteeeeerious old place, tucked away deeeeeep in the woods… a run-down shack, full of treasures, just waiting to be discovered! Are they even of this world? Come and find out!”

Jay giggled at his salesman voice. “Sounds like a place I’d want to visit.”

Stan found himself smiling at her amusement. “Heh, yeah, it does, doesn’t it?”

For the first time, the silence that fell over the two was comfortable, not suffocating.

“Alright, Stanley Pines. I’m trusting you here.”

Stan smirked. “Alright, Jay, uh… Jay Tiny. I won’t letcha down.”

“No, you really should.”

Stan furrowed his brow. “What?”

“Let me down. I’m getting dizzy up here.”

“Oh. Yeah, I’ve been holdin’ you up here for a while, huh?” I wonder how high up that looks. As gentle as he’s ever been, he lowered the tiny down to her familiar table. “There ya go.”

“Th-thanks,” she muttered, keeping her eyes down as she adjusted to the shift in perspective. 

“Now, you get some sleep, tiny. You’re gonna need all the energy you can get if we want to get this place cleaned up.” Stan paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “You, uh… you sure you don’t want me to take you upstairs? Check out Ford’s old room? Hang out with the human for a night?”

Jay smirked. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that, I just – Ford always thought it was funny, too. Found it fascinating that we had our own observations on human culture. I kinda forget that humans don’t call other humans humans.” She cleared her throat. She was talking too much. “But, uh, I’m alright. I’ll just stay here tonight.” She really didn’t want to go back in his hand. “I, um, might look at the journal some more. See if there’s something we’re missing.”

“Suit yourself,” Stan shrugged, though his tone suggested he was a little dismayed. “I’m gonna get some shut-eye. That was the most social interaction I’ve had in a year, and I’m beat.”

Jay gave him a soft smile. Though he brought this entire situation upon himself, it was clear this was weighing on him, too. He kept his promise about keeping her hidden all day, and that meant something to her. 

“Goodnight, Stanley.”

Stan turned around, still utterly bewildered at how someone who can blend into the surroundings on a tabletop could be a good companion for him. Maybe he needed to be a little more open-minded. Maybe, just maybe, this whole thing could be good for him.

“G’night, kiddo.”

[astridthevalkyrie]

U want lds thoughts? I gotchu 🫡

I really like all 3 boys, but I'm leaning Zayne bc he's just so husband coded. He's the only one I could see a long-term relationship w. I love Xavier and Rafayel, but I just can't picture them as husbands or dads (at least w my MC/myself). I also desperately need them to interact in game and in the main story, there's just sm potential for chaos and funnies.

I honestly dk what will happen next. Obviously, MC is gonna want to investigate Onichynus and her heart, but idk how that story will unfold or how they'll tie in the stories w each li and their separate myths/reincarnation bit. (Also, the fact that the myths happen in the future doesn't make sense to me yet, so I hope they plan to really flesh that out and not give us questionable writing like most mobile otomes do). Idk how I feel abt Sylus (and possibly Caleb) becoming lis, ig I'll have to see what they're like and if they appeal to me at all, bc so far we haven't had enough Caleb content for me to actually get attached (I was also convinced he was MCs brother so idt I'll ever be able to see him romantically 😭).

I hope we'll get to see more of the side characters and what MCs life is like outside of just the three guys, but I honestly doubt it lmao (more for me to hc abt ig lol).

I have more but this is already rambly and idk how to be coherent rn. This game is giving me brainworms and I'm def thinking abt it too hard. Oh, well. I don't consume media, media consumes me.

i'm telling you it's xavier boyfriend zayne husband and rafayel sneaky link. that's exactly the look and vibe they give off.

i think as of right now zayne is the most popular, at least on ao3 him/mc is the most popular ship. which is just to be expected when you have a levi ackerman coded character LOL. like you said, he's a husband. he just is. he's a doctor and he's successful and he cares for the mc so deeply it just makes sense. i started the game for him because. i mean he looks like THAT. he acts like THAT. he has ice powers and you get to melt the ice in his heart and make him love you i adore that shit see my pinned post for the kind of romance i write you could make a zayne x reader set in the aot universe and it would be my fic. and dooooooon't get me started on dawnbreaker zayne. DON'T GET ME STARTED i gasped during the anecdote when the truth about the kid comes out. he dreams about his past life what the fuck bro what the fuck.

surprisingly, though, while i do love him, he's probably the one i've had the least amount of thoughts about (that's still clearly a lot of thoughts so that's not saying much). i think it's partly because my gacha favors xavier and rafayel a lot more and right now i pretty much am just heavily thinking about whichever guy i consumed the content for last.

xavier and rafayel have me obsessed. i thought xavier would be completely meh because zen from mysme was meh for me. but um. he was not meh. my levi hawks pattern has told me that i love a man who was forced into fighting because of the stupid goodness in his heart and manipulative outside forces. and even though that's not exactly what's going on with xav, he does have that vibe. his is the only myth i've watched in full and i'm just. they should have been able to go to uluru together. the scene where they're both lying on the ground i have watched it so many times. i love love love the royalty x captain of the guards trope so much. the fact that they both serve in both roles is insane. i've read the anecdote about her first life on philos too there's a fucking part in there that talks about how he shares his EARBUDS with you?????? end me.

and rafayel is beautiful. like he's actually beautiful. his english voice actor makes him sound so fucking bisexual + the bi wife energy whenever you're with him is just. UGH. the game is hilarious whenever he's on screen and obviously with the way the main story has ended for now he's the most intriguing. and while you can feel the pining energy from all three of them, his is just. lowkey the most pathetic. and i eat it up. bro started TEACHING AT HER COLLEGE just for the chance to see her. i like that he's not possessive per se but he is very whiny and attention seeking the sassy man syndrome is real. i need to unlock his myth but i'm not patient so i may very likely just watch it on youtube. i need to see hunter rafayel. i need to see him right now.

the main story is genuinely fascinating. i was a little bit bored up until the explosion happened and it really kicked in. bc suddenly it's not just 3 guys and you doing your best, but you actively investigating and them helping you. like i said i don't have raf's myth and i haven't finished zayne's yet (need more fucking upgrades to his card) so i don't have the full story but at least what i'm getting right now is okay. they're all from the past or future. they all remember?? xavier and rafayel definitely do. zayne knows something about grandma who seems kinda shady to me. i've seen the caleb=sylus or at least caleb lives theories. i saw someone say the man at the end isn't sylus though? and his english va is the same as caleb's but in other languages it's someone else. idk.

idk about the others but xavier's myth being in the future makes sense. i'm pretty sure the timeline goes: in our current timeline, earth is about to go bye-bye and become inhabitable bc of wanderers -> survivors go to philos -> xavier and a new mc are both born -> she dies bc of something in her heart and is reborn bc she's the only one who's truly immortal (everyone else on philos lives forever naturally but can still be killed i think??) -> new lightseeker mc and xavier are meant to become guard and prince respectively but philos is dying -> to save mc from being sacrificed again and again xavier decides to go back in time to find another way where he after at least like 200 years meets current timeline mc

i know what you mean about not being able to see caleb as a love interest. the first time i saw him i genuinely thought they had no need to make my brother this hot what the fuck. and then i realized he was just her childhood friend and i went

and then he blew up 😭

i neeeeeed to see the love interests interact. i mean mc barely thinks about the others whenever she's with one but i really hope in the next arc we actually see them meeting each other. beefing or working together or whatever, i need to know (i may also have already started a fic about what's gonna happen next bc i'm mentally ill). xavier has a tracker on her so he should be able to find her and zayne kinda disappeared off the face of the earth but i want them all back. i want interaction. i want it so bad.