#if you want the skin pm me ig?

[n0va-dot-mp4]

I've been bingeing @rusty-courage's videos recently, and I wanted to make something as a thanks for everything she's done. I'm really proud of this skin and I hope she sees this :]

[ugh-yoongi]

hang up if u want to | kmg

he's in japan. you're at home, knowing there's no point in staring at your phone, waiting. mingyu might not wanna define what the two of you are, but that certainly doesn't stop him from asking for what he wants.

pairing: idol!mingyu x f. reader genre: situationship au; a lil angst, smut warnings: swearing. sexting — use of gendered terms for genitalia, mentions of oral and penetrative sex, masturbation, images/videos, dirty talk i guess?, squirting. one mention of reader wearing a dress. another mention of reader wearing mingyu’s shirt and it being large on her. (not meant to be an indication of size—that mf is just so large i think most people would drown in his clothes.) mingyu is domineering and kind of brat tamer-y but i wouldn't say this is dom-y at all. he also uses the term "baby" a lot bc i refuse to use y/n. rating: explicit. minors dni. wordcount: 3.6k listen to: namasenda - dare (pm) / khalid, 6lack, ty dolla $ign - otw / keshi - like i need u / edward maya & vika jigulina - stereo love / monsta x - addicted / brockhampton - sugar / shy martin - good together author's note: hello, i barely text men let alone sext them, so if this sucks my bad. i'm also not 100% comfy for writing any groups outside of bts, so i'm also sorry if the characterization is off. the mingyu brainrot was brainrotting tho bc if there's one thing he's gonna do it's look hot holding his phone in a photo, so. here we are. i was gonna wait and post this tomorrow but it's valentine's day so fuck it we ball. thank you: @the-boy-meets-evil, @hot-soop, & @effortandmore for checking this over and brainstorming with me. namasenda for the lyrics in the title and inspo.

Kim Mingyu Missed Call (2)

Your eyes glance upwards at the time. It’s nearing one a.m.; Mingyu’s second call came and went only a few minutes ago. The first one will have come not long after he got off stage, because they always do. There’s a script—unspoken and unacknowledged, but a script nonetheless—and Mingyu follows it religiously.

You sigh. Leave your phone on your nightstand as you change into pajamas, back into the bathroom to wash your face. Roll your eyes as you hear the texts roll in, the sound grating and ominous as it vibrates against the wood.

All part of the script.

Kim Mingyu: just got back to the hotel Kim Mingyu: you up

Also part of the script: this is the only way it goes. Maybe Mingyu wants to text you, but adrenaline’s the only reason he ever goes through with it. That post-concert high, nothing else to do with all that energy but invest it into you, and the thing about scripts is that they get old, grow stale. Always the same thing, and you can only have that conversation so many times before you get tired and rip it up.

We all have roles to play. Mingyu is the one who refuses to define what it is the two of you have, put a label on it. He’s the one who calls from countries away and speaks in that low, hushed tone. He’s the tempter, the one who holds all the cards but refuses to lay them down.

A royal flush, every single time.

And you—you’re not helpless. Not some poor creature fighting for its life in a spun-silk web. Mingyu’s capable of devouring you in more ways than one, but it’s not like that. Not really. As laissez-faire as he is, you come and go as you please, too. Perhaps it’s as mutually beneficial as it is destructive, but that’s the nature of the production; the result of the roles you two of you play.

Kim Mingyu: you ignoring me? Kim Mingyu: i saw your ig story Kim Mingyu: knock it off baby

You smile, private and sardonic, because you aren’t helpless. Sometimes it’s your web, and it’s all Mingyu can do to keep his head above water. Another role you’d borrowed from someplace else but still have memorized. Still remember all the lines, the mannerisms.

On your story: a video of you, bare skin glittering beneath the golden-fluorescent light of your bathroom; you, with your dress unzipped, the straps slipping down your arms; your hand pressed to your chest to keep yourself covered. Your back turned to the camera, visible only in the mirror, as the silk dropped to the floor.

In the settings: only two accounts given permission to see, both belonging to the same person.

In your DMs: Mingyu, on his private account with the username that looks more like a keysmash than any legible thing, reacting with the fire emoji.

Related: the image hovering just above Mingyu’s texts. The one he’d repaid you with not long after seeing your story. A mirror selfie of his own: grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, a soaked-through white t-shirt stuck to his stomach, the lines of his abs visible.

That, and everything below it—all left unanswered.

The thing about Mingyu is he’ll give chase. Doesn’t shy away from all the things he wants; isn’t shy about giving voice to them.

But he’ll never, ever beg.

(Not like this, at least. When he’s in your bed it’s always a different story. He’s a kept man, there, and kept men have no qualms about things like that. Begging for your mouth, your pussy. Begging you to let him come.)

Normally you’d let it go. Let him talk to himself in your texts, because he’s got a lot of nerve if nothing else, but you’d gone out earlier. Grabbed a few drinks with your girlfriends, let the alcohol thrum through you like a livewire. Watched as they danced with men whose names they didn’t know and never learned and thought about what it’d be like to be able to do something like that in public.

Got home, felt a little scorned, just on the edge of bitter. Made a show of taking your dress off in the bathroom mirror and posted it someplace you knew he’d look.

You: did you like it?

Rhetorical. Mingyu may not want to put a label on this thing, might not want to be caged-in and suffocated, but you know what you do to him. All the ways you affect him.

i could tell you, comes the immediate reply, and your eyes are halfway rolled when—

Kim Mingyu: or i could show you

It takes a second to come through, but once it does your breath hitches in your throat. Far from the most obscene image he’s ever sent you, but just as effective. An expanse of tanned, soft skin, lean muscle; still in those same grey sweats, bunched up a little on the thigh as he lays in his plush hotel bed with his legs spread.

At the center of it all, the outline of his hard, thick cock, so fucking big as it stretches the fabric taut.

All you can do is stare.

Mingyu is not of this earth. This thought is nothing new: he has always existed outside the realm of possibility, in more ways than one, so this is merely a fact. Grass is green, the sky is blue, sometimes you can love someone in a way that’s so overwhelming and still be no good for them.

Another fact: it’s primal, the way you need him. Always has been.

You: what am i looking at? You: new sweatpants?

On the other end of the line, it’s easy to imagine his reaction. A quick snort of laughter, tongue pressed into the fat of his cheek before he clenches his jaw. If he were here, he’d haul you into his lap, kiss you deep and messy. Trail his fingers along your skin until they settled in the hollow of your throat.

Pull away just for a second. Just long enough to say, “Watch your mouth,” before he’s licking into it.

Kim Mingyu: don’t be like that 🙄

This time your eyes fully roll. Spitefully, you snap a picture of what’s in front of you: your bedroom wall, some drama playing on the TV, a sliver of amber light from the lamp next to you.

You send it.

You: while we’re sending pictures of irrelevant shit

Truth be told, you’re not like this often, but you get a streak of it every now and then. Only ever at times like this, when the two of you haven’t seen one another in a while and the distance between you is still so ambiguous, untitled.

Usually Mingyu will come by your place. Get you stripped down to almost nothing, have you writhing on his fingers. Then, in between satisfied groans, he’ll slap at your thighs, tell you to stop being a brat.

Kim Mingyu: then send me something worthwhile You: you first

Another beat of silence. Long enough to flick through the channels, plug in your phone, let some of that heat dissipate.

Your phone chimes, and when you look down—

Those grey sweats are long gone, replaced with a pair of black briefs barely containing his cock, still hard and curved toward his stomach. You swallow. Let your eyes linger on the corded muscle of his thighs, all that soft skin. Let your mind remind you, just for a second, how it feels beneath your fingertips, your hands, your mouth.

All the sounds he makes.

Kim Mingyu: is that better Kim Mingyu: is that what you wanted

Unbidden, the corners of your mouth lift. hm… close but no, you type out. Let it sit for a few seconds before you delete it. If Mingyu wants to be a tease, you can do the same.

You situate yourself against the pillows. Angle your phone so the length of your body is visible: your bare legs twisted in the sheets, the bruise Mingyu had sucked into the inside of your thigh before he left just barely making it into the frame. What’s fully visible, though: his shirt that’s draped over your frame, how much it engulfs you, the way you’re drowning in it. In him.

You send it.

You: depends... is this what you wanted?

The response is immediate:

Kim Mingyu: absolutely not. take it off baby.

You’ve starred in this production before, knew where it was headed the second you saw the missed calls, so you’d put on his favorite of your underwear. Skimpy red lace, part of a set he’d had sent to your apartment. Used to tell you in desperate whispers how ruined he was seeing you in them; used to have to rein himself in so he didn’t rip them off.

So you snap another photo. Spread your legs a little further, pull the hem of Mingyu’s shirt between your teeth. Know seeing that sliver of your stomach will drive him crazy, too, but it’ll pale in comparison to the underwear.

You consider video calling him. Want to see his face when you send this photo—the pinch of his brows, the slight drop of his jaw. The way he’ll whimper a little, say baby in that tone that floods you with heat: a little desperate, all hushed awe, bordering on a whine.

The same kind of heat that starts to creep back in again. There’s power in desire, in being desired, and even though you’re here and Mingyu’s in a hotel room in Japan, you can still feel it. Subconscious, like some kind of red string shit. Anticipatory.

Kim Mingyu: goddamn Kim Mingyu: you wear those for me? Kim Mingyu: fuck, i wish i was there to take them off of you

You suck in a breath. and if you were? you send back.

Kim Mingyu: you know that pair is my favorite Kim Mingyu: drives me crazy every time you wear that set Kim Mingyu: but i’ve changed my mind. i want you to keep them on Kim Mingyu: want you to keep my shirt on too You: yeah? you want me to wear your shirt while you fuck me? pull my panties to the side? Kim Mingyu: slow down baby, i’m taking my time with you

In your bed, you snort to yourself. Mingyu has never been patient with anything, but especially not with you. Most of the time he’s so keyed up, wound so tight, that it’s all the two of you can do to make it to your bed—and sometimes you don’t. Sometimes Mingyu puts all that body to use, presses your back to the wall and throws your legs over his shoulders as he eats you out. Wraps your legs around him as he fucks you right there, the slide so, so easy with how wet and messy he gets you.

You remind him of as much. Type out, you? taking your time? i’ve got a couple walls in my entryway that would say differently, and laugh when the reply comes through—can’t help myself sometimes—and promptly stop laughing at the next one: never can, with you.

Kim Mingyu: have i ever told you what i love the most? Kim Mingyu: just kissing you. you always taste so good, baby Kim Mingyu: the way you get so worked up and start grabbing at me when i’m doing it. the way you try to get me to touch you. the way you start grinding your pussy on me like you can’t go another second without me inside you

You feel like you’re on fire. Gets worse with every word you read and re-read, try to commit to memory. You know it all too well, what he’s talking about. Know how warm his skin is, how firm he feels under your touch. Know what he tastes like. How soft his lips are. The way he sounds when you start to writhe, the way he groans when he presses tighter against you, presses you into the mattress, hard cock rutting against you, enough to take the edge off but nowhere near what he needs.

You: love that too You: love when you’re inside me even more

Kim Mingyu: me too baby Kim Mingyu: love the way you feel around me Kim Mingyu: always so fucking tight Kim Mingyu: ffuck

Your stomach drops at his last message. are you touching yourself? you type, even though you already know the answer. Another sight you’re blessed to know: Mingyu’s hand wrapped around himself, how the size of his cock makes it look small in comparison. Head tilted back, abs flexing under the weight of the pleasure.

You get a singular character in reply: 응.

show me.

He doesn’t respond right away. The pause is enough to have anticipation thrumming through your veins, make you a little shaky. Your hand trembles as you trace patterns into your warm, soft skin, pretending it’s Mingyu’s touch and not your own. Pretend it’s Mingyu’s hand that grabs at your breast beneath his shirt, thumbs over your nipple; Mingyu’s touch that has soft gasps escaping you. Pretend it’s Mingyu’s hand that dips beneath the hem of your panties.

Kim Mingyu Attachment: 1 Movie

On the screen: Mingyu’s face greets you first, eyes half-lidded and hazy, the corners of his mouth lifted in a smirk. He tilts his head back, lets you see the sweat-slick skin of his neck, the column of his throat; pans the camera down over his collar bones, his bare chest, before he flips the screen. Can barely fit the entirety of his frame in the shot, and it strikes you someplace deep, how big he is. How overwhelming.

You suck in a breath as your eyes focus—as you take in the way he’s stroking himself. His cock glistens with whatever lube he’d indulged in, but you can’t help but pretend it’s from you and your mouth. Wish you could see the way he’d touch himself as you sucked him nearly to orgasm and told him to finish himself off. The way he’d whine, beg a little, get a little shitty with you.

“Fuck,” you say out loud. You can feel your pupils blow at the thought.

“Jagiya,” comes Mingyu’s voice, intertwined with the sounds of the tv, a city so far away from you, “fuck, I’m so fu-fucking hard.”

If you’d thought you were on fire before, it’s nothing compared to now. Hearing the need in his voice, watching the way he’s touching himself. The way his hips stutter as his body seeks out more, more, more, always more, and the way he squeezes the base of his cock so he doesn’t come too soon.

“Wish it was you. Wish it was you touching me like this. I—fuck, need you so bad.”

You watch as Mingyu strokes over the head of his cock, as each subsequent pass gets more tacky and wet. Lick your lips at the sight of it. Want, more than anything, to get your mouth on him and taste the salt of his skin, the precome he’s jerking himself off with.

Before he even needs to ask, you start recording a video of your own. Leave your panties on because you know he’d want you to. Record the first pass of your fingers through your slick, let out a disbelieving little laugh at how wet you are, how you can hear it. Moan as you dip a finger into your cunt, just to the first knuckle. Say, “I’m so wet, Gyu, oh my god,” all breathy.

Not all that different from how you sound when he’s here. When he’s flesh and blood and right beside you, on top of you.

You use the wetness you’ve gathered and move your hand to your clit. It’s throbbing beneath your touch, your body already wound too tight, and you nearly hiss in oversensitivity and relief when you finally touch yourself the way you’ve wanted to. “Fuck.”

You force yourself to take your time. Slow, small circles, when everything in your body is screaming to be selfish, begging for release the same way Mingyu’s had.

“Should I finger myself?” you ask. A sharp inhale as your next pass has your toes curling. “Wo-won’t feel as good as you, but I need—need more.”

Before you cut the video, you zoom in a little. Make sure Mingyu will be able to see the way you’re touching yourself, be able to hear the sound of your arousal, the same sounds that have warmth blooming in your cheeks.

Kim Mingyu: jesusf fuck Kim Mingyu: god baby youre so hto Kim Mingyu: wanna see you finger yourself Kim Mingyu: please

It’s a little embarrassing, how incapable you are of denying him anything. You trust him implicitly, love him even more, so it’s second nature to give in, to adjust your phone so you don’t have to hold it. Second nature to press record, pull your panties to the side just like you’d proposed earlier; second nature to make a show of sticking two fingers in your mouth, sucking on them, before bringing them to your entrance and easing them inside.

Nothing compared to the stretch of Mingyu, both his fingers and his cock, but it’s still good. Enough to have you sighing softly, barely audible over the sound of everything else: the rustling of your sheets, the low thrum of your own television, you in general.

A rhythmic song and dance. Practiced. You grow wetter with each push and pull; know Mingyu will be able to see it, the way you work yourself open. That, too, has you a little dizzy. Breathless. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you. Not only like this, but all the time. Does he see an expiration date? Something good while it lasted? Is there just this—something carnal and superficial?

Or does he just see you?

It drives you crazy. Inspires something within you: not just the desire to please him, make it worth his while, but to be something else, something more than this. Has your fingers moving a little faster, has you grinding your clit against the palm of your hand. Has you a whining, writhing mess; has sounds spilling out that you aren’t sure you’ve ever heard come out of you.

You send it before you can overthink it. Whatever Mingyu sees in you, at least these are the images that’ll play in his mind whenever he thinks of you. At least you’ve sunk your claws into him.

Seconds pass in a blur. You’re still on the brink of a mind-numbing orgasm, stuck in this liminal space simply because Mingyu isn’t here, and you know, too, how this goes. Know you aren’t supposed to come without his say-so in the same way he edges himself until he gets yours.

Kim Mingyu: shit shit shit Kim Mingyu: i wish that was me. wanna take you apart like that. wanna finger you while i eat you out, make you squirt all over me again Kim Mingyu: fuck i thin k about that all the time Kim Mingyu: im gonna cum

I think about that all the time.

So do you. You, on your hands and knees, Mingyu eating you out from behind. Bracing yourself against the headboard with one arm, the other one reaching behind you to pull at his hair. You remember how relentless he’d been that night. A man possessed. Disregarded all your breathless pleas, every Mingyu, Gyu, fuck, fuck, Mingyu, baby— that left your mouth. His tongue left your pussy only long enough to say, you can take it, baby before he was right back at it. Before he worked in two fingers alongside his mouth. Before his free hand came down hard on your ass, the sting startling you, making you jerk, forcing you closer to his mouth.

You remember coming with a scream. You remember coming to with Mingyu’s lips to your neck, the sweet way he was speaking to you. You remember the knee-jerk embarrassment you felt when you saw the giant wet spot you’d left on the bed and how quickly it dissipated when Mingyu pressed a kiss to your temple, called you his good girl.

You: you can come, but you know the rule

You move your fingers back to your clit, feel all that pleasure flood back, start in your toes. It’s not long before you’re pulling a blistering orgasm from your body—one that feels like it belongs to Mingyu, wasn’t yours for the taking.

thank you, he replies, right beneath a photo of his abs streaked with cum.

The comedown is jarring. You feel both too big for your body and completely out of sorts now that you’ve fulfilled your role. Now that there’s nothing to do but sit in the stillness of your bedroom, that same drama playing on television, some girl getting her heart broken.

You wonder if Mingyu’s thinking the same. If his body also sags with relief, if the absence of all that tension feels crushing. If the first thought he has in this newfound clarity is also I love you and if he also swallows it down every single time. You wonder if he thinks about his role, if it’s becoming stale and tired.

Because you know what comes next:

Kim Mingyu: i’ll be home soon Kim Mingyu: can i see you

And you also know what you’ll say. After all, you’ve played this role before.

if you've made it this far thank you so much for reading! this is prob not my best work since it's a lil rushed but i needed something to get me out of my slump.

i would love to hear your thoughts! <3

[fullfriendnerdclutch]

Rites: St Patrick's Day

It's a day celebrated by many people, especially Irish community. And in such a blessed festivities, several Irish-descent gained some kind of magical development blessed only on the time window of St. Patrick Day.

I've been hella distracted all day long, and it's all because of my roommate Patrick. He's always been a rather sporty guy from the get go, and I'm pretty much used to the fact that we're not necessarily that close as a roommate since we have totally different interest anyway. But, ever since he walked back in to the dorm after his shower this morning only rocking that towel, I simply couldn't take my eyes off him.

He's pale as fuck, yes, and not like that muscular or anything, but it's just super enchanting to see him glide around our dorm and dress himself up for the day. Since we have separate bedroom and only connected by this study-common section, we have our privacy and moments to ourselves rather easily. He decided to be a bit loud with all the oohs and aahs as he probably checked himself out. I was sure I heard him say something about his "slightly tanned skin" or "veinous muscular arms that make people feral" or even "my fat and girthy uncut cock" but well.....I think I would be a bit proud too over my body development if I have a studly physique like his

I remembered some of our final convo before we left for our respective schedule as he exited his bedroom and ready to leave earlier than me

"Clean the bathroom before you leave for your class, okay?"

"Can you take care of my laundry first? You don't have class till 2 PM, right? You can sniff it if you want HAHAH! Nevermind, just do my laundry, okay?"

"Come and watch me play with my buds after your class, okay? We'll play in the outdoor field, then we can head back to the dorm together, sounds nice, right?"

And I simply said yes to all of that. On top of that, even when he left, the obsession remain for me. I bet I spent most of my day daydreaming about him rather than putting on any substantial work whatsoever to my classes.

I found myself scrolling through IG and rewatching his stories upload about his workout session before I eventually dashed to the basketball court to watch him play as my classes wrapped for the day.

I followed all Patrick's movement on the court and practically ignored the other players, it's like as if he's my world and I need to focus all my attention to him. Eventually, when the sweating, post-basketball-reek Patrick brought me to his car, he simply put me in my place as he said

"Now be a good faggot and start huffing. This is the shit that keeps you going, this gives you satisfaction when you can prove that you served me well, right?"

And just like that, I accepted that as my truth

[ippi2un]

Cheeky Massage

★ zayne x gn!reader , sfw

★ wc 1,120 (estimate! I added a couple extra words at the end)

Summary: Your hardworking lover prompted you to deliver him a nice massage...to his backside.

note: i dont even rly write but i love zayne's butt + got inspired by a comment so i wrote...this! 😍 enjoy ig...btw im new to l&ds apologies if i got zaynes personality wrong or something

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

The time read 11:37 PM, about the time where Zayne would typically arrive home from his long, exhausting shift. All he longed for to do is unwind, rest, and spend time with his beloved.

So after he arrived home and was greeted warmly by you, he changed his clothes with your assistance, and settled in bed, his hands wrapped around a medical book.

"You aren't going to sleep now?" You ask him softly, sitting beside him on the bed.

It takes a moment for Zayne to respond, as he was absorbing the information of a sentence in the book. He then looks at you, adjusting his glasses before responding in his low, soothing voice.

"Not yet. Am I disrupting your sleep schedule? I'll turn off the lights and read outside in the living room." He says, rising from the bed, but you gently grasp his wrist.

"No no, its fine. Stay with me please."

Zayne hesitates for a moment, before settling back down on the bed.

"I'll only take 5 more minutes then, so we can sleep after." Zayne responds, giving you a light kiss to your forehead before returning his attention back to the book.

You sigh, studying his face, the way his eyebrows are slightly furrowed as he takes in the information, his fingers gliding across the page to turn it to the next one. His face is just utterly captivating. You wanted to attack him with kisses all over his face.

But an unusual idea pops up in your mind, such odd one, yet you find it to be...intriguing.. To massage Zayne's ass. You look away from Zayne for a brief moment, gathering your thoughts.

"Massaging Zayne's ass? Thats such a random thing to do." You speak to yourself internally, confused yet considerate of the random idea your creative brain decided to give you.

The more you contemplate it, the more you want to tell Zayne. You gather your final thoughts, before looking back to Zayne, scooting a little closer to him so that you are pressed to his side, your chin resting on his shoulder. You take a soft whiff at his neck, captivated by the faint smell of cologne and skin.

"Zayne..." You began, looking up at him, savoring the new view of Zayne's side profile up close.

Once again, Zayne takes a few seconds before responding to process the writing, before looking to his side, simply staring at you with a warm look of patience, waiting for you to say more. His face was so close to yours, noses almost touching. His captivating eyes are like a luring trap—a form of distraction, you're lost in his gaze, and it almost made you forget what you wanted to say.

"Um...Can I massage your butt?" You mumbled, sucessfully breaking out of your trance, one of your hands going to intertwine with his.

Zayne's expression goes from calm to perplexed, his eyes widening slightly. "Seems like you do really need the sleep. I'll stop my reading now; staying up late won't do any good for you." Zayne says, closing the medical book softly. But you won't give up.

"No!...Wait...I'm serious, Zayne. Let me massage it. I know you've been sitting for long periods of time in the hospital...you should know to...take care of your body. Therefore, I would like to relieve the tension from your butt." You plead with sincerity, straightening your posture to further prove that you were not joking.

Zayne pauses for a moment, before responding back.

"Thank you, love, for your offer. But I do not need it right now. Let's just slee-"

"Zayne please. You can even read your medical book as I do so," You urge, your voice full of desperation.

With a long sigh, he glanced down at his lap, before meeting your gaze once more.

"Fine. Only 5 minutes though."

Your eyes immediately shine with excitement; You get to provide well deserved relief to your lover, and feel his ass beneath your touch.

"Very well," You say, now sitting on your knees on the bed. "Lay on your stomach please."

Zayne shifted into the requested position as you stare at his well-built back. You straddle the back of his well-toned thighs, eager to set your hands on that beautiful, plump sculpt of his.

"I'll start now." You say, earning a small hum from Zayne, as he grabs his book, ready to resume his reading.

Both of your hands move to lay ontop of his cheeks, as you begin to slowly but firmly massage and caress his clothed flesh, feeling the taut muscle move under your hand. You feel his warmth seep into your hands as you confidently and lovingly provide pleasure to your lover. His ass was firm, yet inviting, it only entices you to want to soothe away the tension even more. His curve is mesmerizing—so mesmerizing, you take a moment splay out your fingers on his ass, applying firm pressure downwards, appreciating the sight of his clothed ass jutting out between your fingers.

You give a light squeeze, continuing to tenderly care to his curvature. You spread his cheeks out, then squeeze them together, relishing how his ass moves fluidly under your touch. As you relieve the roundness, your finger traces over the line where the glutes and thigh meet before paying attention there, seeking out any knots you can find.

He slightly shifts beneath your skilled hands, emitting soft hums and sighs once in a while, his back arching slightly at times where you find stubborn knots. You assume he's fine with it, maybe enjoying it?

And indeed he is enjoying the sensation, engrossed in his book as hes gaining attention and relief to his ass. What more could he desire?

As you continue your ministrations to his ass and thighs, your eyes wander over to the medical book he's reading, squinting your eyes, trying to read it as well. As he flips the pages, your eyes skim over the text. But each page flip gets noticeably slower. You furrow your eyebrows, continuing to massage his butt. Until suddenly, he stops turning the page entirely, and lies still.

"Zayne?" You say softly, ceasing the massage. You don't get an answer. You get off him, laying on your side to see his face.

"Oh." You smile, realizing that he has drifted off to sleep. Your hands work magic, it seems, lulling him to slumber just with the kneading of his ass. Carefully, you slowly take the book away, setting it aside on the nightstand, before grabbing the blanket and putting it over you and Zayne. You close the lights, and scoot closer over to Zayne, laying on your side, an arm draped around his back.

Seems like this will be a daily occurrence from now and on.

[katewritesthings]

Love Me Like I Can // Chapter 2

Chapter 2 // How to Touch a Girl

•warnings: Cursing. Cheating. Sexual Situations. Drinking. Drug use. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

The first time Diana woke up the morning after her birthday was actual torture, she was sure. The need to empty her bladder caused her to wake far earlier than she would have liked, early morning light barely making it through the blackout curtains that decorated her bedroom. The redhead carefully disentangled herself from the limbs of her sister and friend and climbed out of bed, grabbing her phone from beside her on the bed. Making her way to the ensuite bathroom, Diana immediately regretted unlocking her device for two reasons. First the dull ache in her head made itself known the second the light hit her eyes in contrast to the dark bathroom. 6:21 AM . Second, was a series of text messages from a number not saved to her phone that she decided could wait before she absolutely exploded. After washing her hands and splashing cold water on her face, Diana braced herself and opened the text thread.

+1(617)-555-1425 9:36 PM    you look sooo good in your IG pics 11:15 PM ugh i wish i was with you rn 12:20 AM cmon di. dont be a btich text me back 1:37 AM Ungrateful bitch.  2:39 AM   i see. youre out there fuckin with someone new. Thats  wh you wont text me back. He’ll just get bored of you like I did.  2:41 AM How long before he starts fucking yor sister 

Disappointed that the Boston area code and the content of messages meant the sender was clear, Diana quickly locked her phone and dropped it on the counter. She couldn’t deal with Connor right now. Leaving her phone in the bathroom, Diana crawled back into bed, thankful that she insisted on a “sleepover” last night and wasn’t alone to spiral.

The second time Diana woke up was slightly better than the first. She was alone in bed and her headache eased to a dull thumping, a glass of water on her bedside table. Emptying the glass in one go, Diana searched for her phone. A string of curses rang through her head when she remembered the reason that it was not beside her. After a dramatic sigh, she forced herself out of bed and into the bathroom. She turned on the light, looked in the mirror for the first time that day, and groaned out loud. Light reddish-purple bruises littering her neck and collarbone were visible under the sports bra she was wearing.

Annoyed with herself, Diana picked up her phone and checked the time: 12:12 PM. When she unlocked the device the messages from Connor were still open on the screen. While the reason for his vitriol was now apparent, clues painted on her skin, it didn’t make it justified. ‘It wasn’t like I had sex with Joe,’ she thought, ‘ And even if I had, I’m single and can fuck who I want. 

Diana blocked the number but kept the text thread to show Biz later and moved on to check her other notifications, some birthday wishes from people who couldn't make it last night and a missed call from Cathy at 9:30. Diana decided could give her manager a call back later and was replying to all of the messages and comments as she walked into the kitchen of the apartment she shared with her sister.

Biz, who was standing at the stove cooking bacon and French toast, spoke as Diana walked in eyes glued to her phone. “Gooood Morning beautiful, Happy actual birthday,” the younger woman sang in a joking manner. “Taylor left, she had to catch a flight for the awards tonight.” She paused a minute before excitedly saying, “There was a delivery for you this morning.”

Diana looked up at her last statement, confused even more at the smirk on the brunette’s face. “What delivery?”

Biz didn't respond except for pointing her spatula towards the living room, signaling Diana to investigate. Rolling her eyes, Diana did as she was told, walking farther down the hall to figure out what her sister was talking about.

She was not expecting multiple bouquets of roses placed in every nook and cranny they would fit to be decorating the living room. “What the fuck,” she muttered to herself, making her way toward the largest bouquet on the coffee table in the center of the room, silently counting the number of arrangements. Nine. 

‘What a strange number,’ she thought as she picked up the card attached to the large bundle of roses, looking out of place on the coffee table next to her TV remote.

Tried to get your number Cathy with no luck. Now who’s curving who? 513-555-6947 JB

Warmth filled Diana’s body as she reread the card for the third time, trying to make sense of it. Pulling up Cathy’s contact information on her phone and pressing call, she turned to see Bizz in the doorway smiling like the Cheshire Cat. 

“Soooo… who are those from?” Her tone gave her away, she already read the card.

“Fuck off,” Diana mouthed just as Cathy answered her phone, turning back to the flowers. “Cathy Allred,” the older woman answered cheerfully. “Hey, Cath, this is Di. I was just giving you a call back and wondering if you knew why there were 10 gigantic floral arrangements in my living room?” Diana greeted, attempting to keep her annoyance at her sister out of her voice.

Cathy’s throaty laugh came through the speaker and Di could imagine her expression was the same one that Biz was wearing. “Oh, honey. That handsome football player from last night was leaving messages at the buttcrack of dawn trying to weasel your number out of me. When I told him that I couldn’t clear that without your direct consent, he asked if he could send flowers to our office and have them forwarded to you if security approved the message. We just didn’t expect 9 separate bouquets.”

Diana was in shock. She couldn’t remember the last time she had received flowers unrelated to work.

“Well, uh, thank you, Cathy. That’s all I wanted. I’ll talk to you Wednesday,” Diana ended the phone call, still staring blankly at the literal dozens of roses sitting in her house. “Soooooo,” Biz’s voice came out in her signature sing-songy tone.  “Are ya gonna text him?” 

Diana bit her lip. “Well, I guess I should, right?”

She could feel her anxiety creeping up in the back of her mind, almost like frost crystallizing on glass in the winter. The first voices of self-doubt were beginning to scream you’re not good enough for him and he’s only going to break your heart when a hand on Diana’s shoulder refocused her.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Di,” Biz’s comforting words filled her ears. “He’s a really hot guy who is into you, so I’d say go for it. Texting him doesn’t mean you’re getting married next month, babe. But you were humping his leg like a dog in heat last night, so it probably would be proper etiquette to at least acknowledge his existence.” As was exiting the room laughing at her own joke as she said the last part. Diana rolled her eyes and thought about her sister’s advice. Joe really was an attractive man and all signs were pointing to him being attracted to her. Their physical chemistry last night had been off the charts and even though they didn’t discuss anything super deep, she was engrossed in the conversation, always wanting to hear what Joe had to say next. She was going to do it, she was going to text him.

She added his number to her phone and began debating how to start the conversation. After drafting and redrafting the generic ‘Hi! It’s Diana” messages for nearly two minutes, she finally settled on one that would let Joe know who she was.

Joe (Quarterback) 12:32 PM    you left before saying bye last night, i’d say you’re still curving me.

Phone in hand, Diana made her way toward the smell of brunch. Before she could even make it to the breakfast nook her phone buzzed in her hands signifying she had received a text.

Tee wasn’t feeling great, I had to dash. Let me make it up to you. I’m in NYC until Monday night.

Butterflies filled Diana’s stomach as her eyes scanned the messages she had just received. Joe didn’t leave the party because he was embarrassed by their hookup like her anxiety had been trying to convince her. He had a legitimate reason and he wanted to see her again to make up for it. Before she could let her nerves stop her, she fired off a reply to Joe

i’ll hold you to it. 😜 i’m free all day tomorrow.

 Diana didn’t even get a chance to lock her phone before a new message appeared on her screen.

Not anymore. Lunch?

She wasn’t sure if it was nerves or hunger making her stomach turn the way it was, so she decided to load up her plate before responding. 

After eating a decent amount of brunch and taking a well-needed shower, Diana was lounging in her bed, Parks and Recreation on in the background, staring at Joe’s texts. So many conflicting thoughts were running through her head about what her response should be. As much as she wanted to see Joe again, she couldn’t shake the feeling of fear. Sure Joe seemed nice, but Connor seemed nice enough at first. She knew her ex had just sent the hateful texts to get under skin, but he knew which blows hit the hardest.

“Biiiiiiz! Come in here!” she shouted from her spot on the bed, in a frustrated squeal.

“What’s the matter?” The brunette questioned, popping her head through the door. “I think I agreed to hang out with Joe tomorrow and I’m scared,” Diana whined, dragging out the vowels in the word ‘scared’.

A snort came from Biz as she made her way fully into the room. “He’s a man, Di, not a monster. Why are you scared?”

Diana knew this was the moment that she should share that Connor had texted her this morning, but for some reason, she couldn’t get the words out of her mouth. Instead, what came out was a pitiful gasp for air that made Biz by surprise.

“Just, what if I’m supposed to be more healed than I am,” Diana breathed, tears in her eyes. “Like, what if Joe turns out to be as good as he seems? Doesn’t he deserve more than this heartbroken version of me? I’m barely myself again, Biz.”

“I think you should at least hang out with him and see where it goes. Worst comes to worst, you guys know you’re physically into each other,” Biz teased. Diana rolled her eyes, “What if he’s expecting to fuck and I’m not ready?” Biz shot her sister a look. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Di. But let’s be real, you need to get dicked down. How long has it been?” Diana rolled her eyes again, not wanting to acknowledge she was currently on the longest dry spell she’d ever had. Things in the bedroom aspect of her relationship with Connor never really met her standards, always dissatisfied. The past six months of their relationship had consisted of barely any intimacy, Connor claiming he wasn’t attracted to Diana at the moment. Turns out, he was just getting his needs met by her best friend. “You’re right,” Diana gave in, texting Joe back.

1:26 PM deal, burrow. tomorrow at noon. Italian or Mexican? Shit. Just got word that public restaurants are a no-go. its okay. we can do pizza and sweets at my place

A new fear ran through Diana’s head as soon as she heard the “swoosh” sound from her head. “What if-” Diana was cut off by her sister throwing a pillow at her face. “Shut up,” Biz said in a more serious tone than before. “I get that you’re nervous, but stop coming up with these what-ifs. Smoke about it and attempt to channel your thoughts into something productive.” With that, Biz left the room.

Diana knew her sister was right. Not only did she tend to handle her anxiety better if she was channeling it into something productive, but she was behind on writing. Cathy had told her that the songwriters she was meeting with on Wednesday were expecting the start of at least six new songs and at this point, Diana only had four songs, three of which were fragments.

Lighting a preroll from her bedside table, Diana reached for her notebook, anxiety still at full force. As she hit the joint, she began to scribble down the thoughts that were looping in her head in an attempt to get them to stop.

I know that I’m better than this heartbroken version of me What if he can't compete with the things that I'm scared of that keep love from me? I get so attached and when it ends and the comedown hits I just end up hating me The energy that it takes to be somebody’s somebody just ain’t in me.

After she had stubbed out her joint, the voice of Diana’s anxiety had dulled to a whisper and her mood had lifted considerably. When Diana looked up from her notebook and checked her phone she saw two new messages from Joe.

Awesome. Can’t wait to see you.

What are you up to?

Smiling to herself, her fingers glided across the screen to type out that she was writing, hoping it could turn into a song and returning the question. Joe must have had his phone in hand because within record time her phone was signaling a new message.

Just left lunch with the guys, can I call you?

The butterflies from earlier had returned with a vengeance accompanied by a warm flush taking over her body. Within seconds of replying with an affirmative text, her phone was ringing in her hand indicating she was receiving a FaceTime call from Joe. “Hello,” she greeted hesitantly, internally cringing at her appearance in the camera. Her long hair was still wet from the shower and braided into Dutch braids down the side of her head and she had placed two star pimple patches on her forehead and chin, not expecting to see anyone but Biz. “Hey! You look great,” Joe responded, white smile beaming at Diana. He appeared to be sitting against a hotel headboard, dressed in a black Bengals hoodie. 

“No one likes a liar, Joe,” Diana smiled. “Wasn’t expecting a video call.”

“I just needed to make sure you were who you said you were,” Joe countered, smile turning into a playful grin. “Can’t be making plans to hang out with some rando, you know.” Diana rolled her eyes and placed her notebook on her bedside table, the action drawing Joe’s attention. “I’m sure girls are tripping over their own feet to eat lunch with you,” Diana let out a small laugh. “Unfortunately for you, I am myself and you have agreed to hang out with me. Now, if you’ll agree after this time, that’s a question for another day.” “Oh, yeah. What makes you say that?” Joe quirked an eyebrow, a grin still covering his beautiful mouth.

“Well, first of all, we’re getting pineapple on our pizza. Second of all, I planned on finishing my puzzle tomorrow, so you’re now getting roped into that.”

Laughter filled the speakers before Joe’s voice said, “Well, first things first, pineapple on pizza is the right decision… But a puzzle, really? What are you, 73?”

Diana was pleasantly surprised at the ease of carrying on a conversation with Joe. She had assumed that alcohol had lubricated their last interaction, but the way the conversation flowed for the next hour proved that wrong. Joe teasing her for doing puzzles led them to talk about their other hobbies which led to them talking about what started them on their careers.

“Yeah, so I’m hoping to be back by preseason, but there’s no guarantee. I just feel like I’m letting the team and the fans down, y’know,” Joe finished explaining his injury, something Diana had known the bare minimum about before this conversation. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked to the side. “Sorry to overwhelm you.”

“No, please don’t ever apologize for sharing your emotions, Joe. You can’t hold everything in because you’re afraid of being judged.” Diana’s heart tugged for a moment, imagining how Joe must feel after the season he had last year. She wanted to make sure he knew that she was someone he could share with even if this went nowhere.

“Okay,” Joe nodded, but still changing the subject, “So, what about you? Any new music I get to look forward to?”

Diana rolled her eyes but smiled. Connor was never interested in her career, implying that the music his band made was better and more meaningful. It felt nice to have someone who wasn’t her sister inquire about the progress she was making on her new album. “Actually, I have a few writing sessions over the next few weeks with my label and some producers and start recording some new stuff in March. We’re planning on turning the EP into an extended into a standard album” “Oh, yeah? Do you have a lot of material?” Joe asked, seeming genuinely interested in the answer. “Uh, actually, I didn’t. I’ve been writing a lot recently, though, so hopefully..” Diana trailed off, hoping the heat on her cheeks didn’t show up on Joe’s end of the video call. It was embarrassing enough to admit to herself that she had been more inspired since Joe appeared in her life than she had been in six years, but she’d die if he figured it out.

After a few more minutes of talking, one of Joe’s teammates knocked on his door causing Joe to get off the phone. They had been on the phone for an hour, but Diana was sure she could have talked to him for three more. Diana spent the rest of her night watching the Grammys on her couch. Diana’s team still thought it was best if she stayed home this year as Connor’s band was up for nomination and they wanted to avoid as many headlines about the two as they could. They insisted that Diana stream from home and interact with fans while the awards were happening, which worked out okay in her book. She had fun posting on her Instagram stories rooting for the artist she was friends or a fan of, secretly rejoicing when Bedford Scrolls lost the award they were up for. The fact that she was able to hang out with Joe because she stayed home was definitely, absolutely, not the main reason.

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If there is one thing that will never change about Diana Hayes, it’s that she’s not a morning person. Or a “before 1 PM” person, really. So when her alarm went off at 10 this morning, she wanted to press snooze with everything in her being. That was until she actually looked at her phone and noticed the text notifications on her home screen. She had the normal business updates in her team group chat, but that wasn’t the one that caught Diana’s attention.

Joe (Quarterback) 7:01 AM Is there a specific dress code today?

A smile crossed Diana’s lips, relieved that he wasn’t canceling on her. Tapping a reply out on her phone, she got out of bed and headed towards her bathroom. 

10:02 AM whatever you’re comfortable in. i plan on restarting game of thrones today.

Diana busied herself by turning on her shower and adjusting the water temperature before her phone buzzed on the counter.

Sweats it is. 

Good choice on shows. Don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m King In The North 😉

Diana responded with an eye roll emoji before telling Joe she would see him at noon and entering the shower. She took her time in the shower, excitement bubbling in her stomach at the uncertainty of what the afternoon held. It had been ages since she had been on a first date, if this even was one, she wasn’t sure what protocol was anymore.

An hour and twenty minutes, one pair of shaved legs, and a fight with a hair dryer later Diana was freaking out. Joe would be here in less than an hour and she was regretting everything. He’s going to make fun of me, Diana thought to herself, he’s going to come over, think I’m weird, and then make fun of me to his friends. Adjusting her position on the couch, Diana brought her hands up to pick at her lips, an anxious habit she’d had since a child. 

Before her fingers could even make contact with her mouth, Biz’s hand swatted it away, an amused look on her face.

“You told me to stop you from picking!” Biz held up her arms in defense, “I just wanted to remind you to tag the bakery the croissants are from on Insta before I leave.”

Biz was driving back to Philadelphia with Eli for the day, giving Diana and Joe the apartment alone for the day. After Biz made her way out of the door, Diana busied herself taking pictures for her social media posts, starting the first episode of Game of Thrones, and snacking on the sweets that had been delivered while she was in the shower. Before she knew it her phone was ringing, Joe’s name flashing across the screen. 

“Hey,” Diana greeted, standing to pace in the living room. 

“Hey,” Joe responded, “I’m about to get in the elevator, I just wanted to let you know I’m almost there.”

“Okay. Once you get to the 14th floor, we’re on the right. See you in a minute.”

Moments later, Diana was opening the front door of her apartment, eyes scanning over Joe’s body. He was dressed in a tie-dyed blue and purple, Space Jam crewneck and a pair of gray sweats. She had never understood before when her friends had talked about men in gray sweats, but seeing Joe had shown her the light.

“Hey,” Diana finally found her voice, gesturing for him to walk in the door.

“Hey, again,” Joe joked, making his way past Diana to stand in the entryway. Closing the door, Diana met Joe’s eyes and felt her face heat up. 

“So, I have uhm, some pastries and fruit in the living room if you want to go in there. I’m like halfway through the first episode of Game of Thrones if you want to go watch.” Diana’s voice came out quicker than normal, nerves filling the space between the butterflies in her stomach.

Joe shook his head with a grin. “Alright. That sounds great to me.”

The pair made their way past the kitchen and into the living room, Diana waving her arm in the direction of the couch. “Make yourself comfortable. What do you want to drink?”

“Water sounds great, thanks,” Joe answered, walking to the corner of the couch. When she returned, Joe had sat down and was taking in the surroundings of Diana’s living space. The room was the same cream color that most high-end rentals are nowadays, sectional taking up most of the space. A coffee table in front held Diana’s laptop, a plate with croissants, cinnamon rolls, and strawberries, a glass of water, and two of the flower arrangements that Joe sent her the day before. The sectional was up against a full wall picture window, sage green blinds pulled halfway across and faced a flat screen TV that was paused on an image of Daenerys Targaryen walking into a steaming bath. 

“I know it’s plain, but we’re only staying here temporarily,” Diana said referring to the room they were in, her presence startling Joe.

“Oh. Planning on moving soon?” Joe inquired, pulling himself deeper into the couch. Diana set the glasses down on the coffee table and sat down next to Joe, leaving about a foot of space between them.

“Kind of? I wanted to stay in New York until the tour starts and then Biz and I were going to look at houses,” Diana said in response, “I don’t necessarily want to settle down in a huge city, but I can’t imagine myself going back to Philly.”

“Did you hate it there or something?” Joe seemed genuinely intrigued about Diana’s plans, which was something that surprised her. She had only really known him for 36 hours and she was ready to tell him everything.

“Only since my dad died,” Diana said, instantly followed with, “Oh my god. That was so depressing. Ignore me.” 

“You’re fine. It’s the real reason,” Joe chuckled, “I’ll quit interrogating you.”

The two talked a little more about Joe’s flight back to Cincinnati at 9 and the Grammys that happened the night before, somehow landing on their Game of Thrones opinions. 

“I won’t deny that she’s completely batshit insane, yes. But she’s one of the best characters!” Diana said, excitedly of Cersei. “That’s not what you said, you said she was your favorite character,” Joe countered, “Which, if it is true, is wild.”

Diana laughed as she brought her legs onto the couch and crossed them crisscross-applesauce. The space that had previously existed between her and Joe disappeared, her knee pressing into his thigh. Attempting to ignore the heat that was making its way up her neck, Diana leaned forward and grabbed the remote. “Just watch it from my perspective,” she said before pressing play.

The rest of the first episode and the entire second one played while Diana and Joe snacked and gave commentary on what was happening in the show. Between episodes, Diana had readjusted, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over herself. She wasn’t sure when it happened, but sometime around the opening credits of the third episode after she had ordered pizza, she found herself pressed into Joe’s side with his arm wrapped around her shoulder. Within fifteen minutes of that, Diana found herself straddling Joe, hands on either side of his face, lips moving in sync with his. Joe’s right hand found its way to her hair as her lips traveled to the hair on his jawline.

“I like this scruff,” Diana panted between kisses, starting at his chin and making her way back up to the sensitive spot beneath his ear. Joe’s left hand traveled to her waist, reaching under her t-shirt and making contact with her bare skin. “I’ll keep that in mind,” just loud enough for Diana to hear. Diana ground her hips into his lap, feeling him harden beneath her and his hand traveled to her breast, massaging it eagerly.

They continued kissing a moment longer until Joe grabbed hold of Diana and laid her down on the couch. His lips found her neck and he asked, “Is this okay?” as he shifted his weight to not crush the woman below him, his left hand returned to its place under her shirt. “Take this off,” Joe said, gesturing to the material. Diana complied. “Couldn’t be better,” Diana sighed as Joe nipped lightly at her collarbone, tongue following shortly after his teeth.

“I’m sure there’s always room for improvement,” his voice laced with lust and arrogance. Just as Diana was about to ask what he meant, Joe’s hand moved from her breast to the waistband of her sweatpants.

With a nod of Diana’s head, Joe’s hand dipped beneath the waistband of both her sweatpants long fingers gently brushing her clit through her panties. A soft moan left Diana’s lips as she leaned forward to connect her lips to Joe’s again. His fingers teased her, using his thumb and forefinger to play with the material separating him from her core. Lifting her hips hoping Joe would get the hint, she pressed her core firmly against his fingers.

“More,” she breathed. Joe pulled the fabric aside and his fingers were instantly met with the slick wetness of Diana’s arousal. Sliding his middle finger along her slit, he brought it up to her clit and began to rub. Pleasure clouded Diana’s thoughts, Joe’s voice asking her if he could take her pants off barely making it through haze. She lifted her hips and pulled the material down her legs as Joe sat up, tugging his shirt over his head.

Joe stared at her for a moment, taking in the sight in front of him. Laying in only her black lace panties, Diana was too busy enjoying her own view to shy away from the hunger Joe was staring at her with. Joe was clearly a man who took care of his body and it showed. She was in awe.

Before Diana could process the definition of his muscles, Joe had resumed his position next to her, covering her lips with another kiss. Then, without hesitation, he took her left nipple in her mouth. Diana moaned again, arousal red hot between her legs. It wasn’t long until Joe’s mouth began moving downward again, leaving kisses until he got to Diana’s hip bones.

“Can I?” Joe asked, staring up hungrily at Diana. Hesitant, Diana thought it over for a second. She had only received oral three times in her past relationship as her ex had found numerous reasons to avoid the act, most of them criticisms of Diana. Everything from she was unattractive to she was too picky when it came to the way he did it. Trying to shake thoughts of her ex from her head, Diana reassured herself that every signal Joe had given her had proved he wanted to do this. Finally, she nodded her head.

Wasting no time after getting her consent, Joe placed his lips around Diana’s clit and began sucking. Instinctively, her hips bucked into him, eager for more pleasure. Diana felt Joe smile into her skin, then a finger slid into her while he continued to suck and lick at her.  After some movement, Joe added another finger, pausing a moment to help her get used to the width.

Diana tried to clear her mind, looking down at the man between her legs. His fingers were moving inside of her, curling to hit a spot inside of her that she seemed rather receptive to the first time he hit it. A warm tension was pooling in the pit of her stomach as she tried to clear any insecurities from her mind. “Fuck..” Joe’s mouth drew another slow moan out of Diana’s mouth. She leaned forward, propping herself up on her elbows. “As amazing as this feels- fuck. I don’t think that I’ll be able to- holy shit!- finish this way.” Joe pulled his face away from her core, licking his lips and shaking his head. “I think you underestimate my determination,” he stated. Not breaking eye contact, he dipped his head back down and placed another kiss on her clit and added another finger to the ones busy between her folds.

Joe’s hands and mouth continued in unison to work their magic until moments later when tension in her core began to build towards a peak and her body convulsed. She brought her hand to her mouth and bit down lightly as Joe’s teeth lightly grazed her clit. He used his free hand to rest against her hip bones, trying to hold her in place so he could help bring her to climax. Releasing her clit from his mouth, began to move his fingers with more purpose, trying to match the pace that Diana was trying to set. 

“Fuck. Fuck! Joe, I think I’m going to-” Diana was cut off by her orgasm. Joe continued to pump his fingers into her as he peppered kisses on her forehead. Warmth radiated through her body, starting at her core and rippling from her head to her toes. “That’s right, baby. Just let it happen,” he encouraged as Diana let herself give in to the sensation. 

Taking a deep breath and opening her eyes, Diana was staring into Joe’s blue eyes. “Thank you. I promise you did not need to do that” Diana whispered, trying not to let her nerves get the best of her. “I didn’t have to, I wanted to,” his response helped ease her worries. “Besides, I didn’t want to not live up to what was advertised,” he joked, referencing the interview Ja’Marr had given. Just then, the doorbell rang indicating that the pizza they delivered had arrived. 

An hour later, Joe and Diana had devoured an entire pizza and had spent the entire time deep in conversation. Trying to avoid bringing up what just happened, Diana kept the topics focused on friends and growing up. She learned about Joe’s parents and his brothers and heard what it was like to grow up in a relatively small town in Ohio, while she told Joe about how she grew up in Philadelphia, her mom leaving before she turned 10, and her dad passing away a few years ago. It felt almost relieving to have someone ask questions about the things she actually cared about.

It wasn’t long before Joe’s phone started ringing from its spot on the coffee table. Joe stood up and walked out of the room to take the call. It was a quarter till six, meaning that Joe’s flight left in less than 5 hours. Diana’s head began swimming with contradicting thoughts, sad that he had to leave soon and fear of what that meant.

When Joe ended the call, he walked back into the room, looking at his phone. “Apparently, I should leave in no more than ten minutes to make it back in time to pack for our flight. I guess I should leave” Joe looked just as conflicted as Diana felt. “Will I get to see you again?”

Diana felt her heart start beating harder than it ever had. This man was a fucking dream. “Yeah, that’d be cool. I’d like that,” Diana nodded, walking Joe to the door. 

“Cool. I had a really good time today,” a smile covered Joe’s face when Diana turned a deep red. “I’m willing to repeat it anytime,” he said with a wink.

Diana shoved Joe slightly, arriving at the front door. Joe engulfed her in a hug, placing a kiss on the crown of her head. 

“But seriously, I would like to hang out again. I’ll text you, okay?” He was looking down at her now, smirk still on his face

With a nod, Diana pushed herself onto her tiptoes to kiss him goodbye. Making sure she locked the door behind him, she raced to her phone to send her sister a text.

Sending the message, Diana couldn’t help to smile to herself. She wasn’t quite sure what she wanted from this relationship with Joe, but she knew for sure she wanted more of it.

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Sorry for the delay, I just couldn't get this chapter right! Hope you all enjoy! If you've read this far, please let me know what you think, even on anon!

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[bkaulitzz]

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info: ANGST, fem!reader x bill, usage of Y/n, 3.1k words

synopsis: you and bill cool off at a club!

more after cut :0

your dialogue

bill’s dialogue

I gripped the bed sheets as I sniffled, the room was dark, and I could barely see him yet I knew the look that he was giving me. My chest heaved up and down, eyes were blurry as I fluttered the tears away. His hair was disheveled, eyes wide with pursed lips. "You couldn't just fucking tell me that?"

"Tell you what? That I was at fucking work?! Do I have to text you every second now?!" Bill bellowed, clenching his fists that laid by his sides.

"That's not the point, Bill, " I hoarsed through sobs. "I was worried, okay? What if you got into a car crash or something?"

"You're doing it again, no I didn't get into some fucking car crash or whatever you're worried about, " He took steps closer to the bed, looking down at me. "It's almost as if you want it to happen."

"No, I don't! I would never wish that on you, Bill, " I brokenly sobbed and he let out a heavy sigh, pacing around the room.

"That's your problem, " He stopped by our dresser, slamming his fist onto it, causing the loose screws to shake and let out a noise as they hit against the wooden holes they sat in. I flinched, watching him turn his gaze towards me over his shoulder. "You're always fucking worried, I can take care of myself. Do you know how annoying it is-"

"I just care, Bill! I just want to know that you're okay and that you'll be okay. That's all I fucking ask for, " I sniffled, the skin under my eyes burned as I wiped the tears away from my puffy eyes with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. The light from the hallway lit into our room, revealing Bill's face a bit with a beam. His mascara and eyeliner were runny from sweat or tears.

"Well, it's fucking annoying. Every second you text me to see where I am, or what I'm fucking doing-" He was cut off.

"Because I fucking care-"

"No, you're fucking insane! None of my exes have ever acted this way!-"

"Don't you dare compare me to them as if they've never done you wrong!" I snarled, pointing a finger at him as I clenched my jaw. He grit his teeth, furrowing his brows. His nostrils flared as he breathed heavily, we kept eye contact in silence for a few minutes before he parted his lips.

"I rather be with them than you, at least they knew when to leave me the fuck alone, " Bill spoke through clenched teeth. I felt my heart drop as I looked at him, my lips parted as my jaw hung low. My stomach turned as he looked at me with narrowed eyes and a frown, reaching into his back pocket. The sound of cigarettes shuffled as he pulled out the red-detailed 'Marlboro' box. "I'm gonna go smoke, I hope it lights on fire and burns the house down, " He scoffed before walking towards the bedroom door, not giving me another glance as the wood under him creaked. I bit my lip, feeling my face heat up as tears began to well up. I whimpered, falling back onto the bed, and reaching over for my phone on the bedside table. My face was lit up by the phone screen as I flipped it open.

— (these are text messages under)

AMBER (sorry if ur name is amber)

Me - 10:56 PM

"Amber answer pls."

Amber - 10:59 PM

"im here, what happened?"

Me - 10:59 PM

"he got home and the first thing we did was argue."

Amber - 11:01 PM

"again?? this is like the 7th time or somrthibg"

Me - 11:01 PM

"ik, i dont know what to do"

Amber - 11:01 PM

"well if he keeps doing this then u should dump his ass"

Me - 11:02 PM

"ik but i love him :("

Amber - 11:02 PM

"yea ik but hes toxic for u, theres sm better guys"

Me - 11:02 PM

"ig :( but hes so sweet"

Amber - 11:03 PM

"but is it worth it? for all the arguments?"

Me - 11:03 PM

"maybe its bc we r just out the honeymoon phase rn :("

Amber - 11:03 PM

"idk Y/n, ig."

Me - 11:04 PM

"we just have to see"

Amber - 11:04 PM

"okk wtv u say. also off topic but should i do pink or blue streaks?"

Me - 11:04 PM

"oh, pink, r u dying ur hair rn?"

Amber - 11:04 PM

"yea i just got it bleached. anyways, i just hope it works out"

Me - 11:05 PM

"i hope so too, im gonna go sleep now"

Amber - 11:05 PM

"sleep well, ily"

Me - 11:05 PM

"ily too"

—

I closed my phone, tossing it onto the table before pulling the blanket over me. I sniffled as I snuggled into the bed, fluttering my eyes close before drifting off.

***

My feet stood against the cold tile of the kitchen floors as I diced the potatoes. The ventilation hood let out a low hum as I boiled water on the stove, making stew for one. It's been days since we spoke, I couldn't even remember his voice by now. We barely met eye-to-eye anyway since he left early and came home late. I slid the bad piece of the potato to the side of the cutting board, continuing to cut the rest. I froze, seeing the familiar painted nails and each silver ring that fitted on each finger, snake around my waist. I bit my lip, continuing to cut the potatoes as I felt his chin rest on my shoulder.

"Love..." Bill spoke softly into my ear before placing gentle kisses on my ear lobe. "I missed you, " He continued, placing more kisses on my ear as he held me close. I stayed silent, focusing as I placed the pieces into a bowl. "I'm sorry for yelling at you...and saying all those things, " He kissed down to my neck, moving his hands onto my sides. He massaged my sides, placing long opened mouth kisses on the right side of my neck. "I didn't mean it, any of it. You're the sweetest and one of a kind...nothing can excuse what I said, " He hummed, continuing to kiss my neck. I felt my face heat up, my eyes welling up as my lip quivered. "You have to speak at some point, please?" He frowned against my skin, slowly moving his hands up my shirt. I shivered at the cold touch as he held my waist from under.

"How could you say those things to my face?" I wept, a tear falling down my cheek. He clicked his tongue, turning me around. The knife fell out of my hand and into the sink. Bill frowned as he looked down at me, his focus being on the teardrop on my cheek. He lifted my face by my chin with his finger, pecking the salty tear away. He wrapped his arms around my waist again, leaning back to look at me.

"My baby...I was having a bad day and I shouldn't have taken it out on you, " He pecked my lips, and I sniffled as I allowed him.

"You were so mean, " I whimpered, looking down at the neckline of his t-shirt.

"I know, I know, " He cupped my cheek, moving my gaze back up at him. "I'm sorry. I know you were just looking out for me, I was just so stressed, " He leaned in, placing his lips on mine again yet not pulling away this time. I reciprocated after a few seconds, closing my eyes before throwing my arms around his neck. His lips were soft and plump as I remembered each line that made up his lips. He moved his hands down and under my shirt to hold my waist again. He smiled against my lips, his hands wandering my body. I let out a pleased sigh, pushing myself against him. Bill let out a grunt, our lips moving against each other. He pulled away after a while, giving me a few pecks before his lips left. "Do you wanna go out tonight?"

"Go out? Where?" I tilted my head, moving my hands down and back against the counter I was leaning against.

"The club, since I know you love to dance...and drink, " He wiggled his eyebrows, smirking. I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

"You know I love the drinks, " I hummed, standing up. "I guess we can."

"We can go...only if you forgive me, " He bit his lip with a smile.

"Fine...I forgive you, " I rolled my eyes. He grinned, pulling me back for another kiss. I let out a huff as I widened my eyes before kissing back.

"Go get ready, " He pecked my nose, reaching back to turn off the gas stove. "I want everyone to see how beautiful you are, " He hummed and massaged my sides. I nodded with a grin, pulling away to rush to our bathroom.

***

I licked the sweet taste from the corners of my lips, sitting on a stool by the bar. Bill's hand rested on my bare thigh as he sipped his glass of whiskey. DJ announcements roared into my ears as he announced the next song, scratching playing after that. Red lights hit Bill as I turned my attention to him, his eyes already on mine as he caressed my thigh with his thumb. He stayed close as people passed by dancing or dragging their feet.

"You having fun?" He asked, tilting his head as he placed his empty glass down on the counter, that was fogged with condensation.

"I guess, we haven't danced yet, " I shrugged. He hopped off his seat, taking my hand in his to pull me out of my seat. I let go of the glass in my hand, following along as he pulled me through people.

Bill grinned as he turned to me, stepping into an empty spot. There was enough room for us but people continued to hug us in. He took my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles before spinning me around. The music pounded into my chest as I pushed myself against him. He held my arm above my head, his jeans tickling the back of my thighs. I bit my lip as my feet stayed stagnant, and my ankles flowed with me as I moved my body against Bill. My body heated up as I did. He followed my rhythm, mirroring each body roll I did. He grinned, wrapping an arm around my waist as we continued. I laid my head back on his chest, continuing to roll my body with him. His hand snaked down to my thigh, caressing it as I grinded against him. People continue to dance around us. I reached back with my free hand, my fingers tangling with his hair as my hand held his nape. He grinned down at me and I looked up at him with a lazy smile. My hand slid from his nape to his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss. His lips pressed against mine and I closed my eyes, my gloss, and his chapstick mixing. I gasped softly, feeling his soft grasp move to my waist. Bill pulled away, turning me to face him.

"I'll be back, I need to go to the restroom, " He pecked my lips again.

"Stay safe, " I let out. He nodded in response, kissing my nose before pulling away. He pushed the people, making his way to the restroom. I lost sight of him, making my way back to the bar. I sighed, taking my seat again, and turning my whole body onto the counter. I laid my handbag in my lap, motioning the bartender over. "Get me something sweet, please, " I grinned, watching them get to work. I rested my hand as my elbow rested on the table. I frowned, looking around as the dark-haired male wasn't back or anywhere nearby. I looked down at my lap, popping my handbag open to pull out my flip phone.

—

BILL <3

Me - 12:37 AM

"bill u ok??"

—

I furrowed my brows, staring at my phone for five minutes. My palms grew slick from sweat, and I closed my phone with no response. I nibbled on my lip, watching as the drink was placed in front of me. "Thank you, " I mumbled, taking a sip as my thumb fidgeted with the fingers on my free hand. I flinched, seeing a tall figure enter my vision, but it wasn't my Bill. I kept my focus on my drink, shaking my left leg up and down against the shiny floor.

"Hey, " The low voice spoke behind me, leaning onto the counter to face me. He snapped his fingers in my face, furrowing his eyebrows. "I said hey, lady. Gosh, do girls just ignore good-looking men these days?" He scoffed. I turned my head slowly to him with an eye roll. His hair was curly, ginger. Skin pale with sharp, green eyes as they stared right into my eyes.

"What do you want?" I covered my drink with my palm. He grinned as he stared over my features, his gaze slowly going down to my cleavage. I placed my free hand over my chest, scoffing. His face was stubbled with the same hair color that sat on his head.

"What do I want? Is that how you flirt? I'm just trying to be nice here. I see a nice woman alone at the bar and I approach her, " He spoke, even though he was inches away and the air was stale, I could smell his beer breath from where I was sitting.

"No, I'm not alone. I'm here with my boyfriend, " I scoffed, sitting up straight and tightening my core.

"Well I don't see him, don't lie to me, " He snickered, a hand reaching out for my shoulder. I widened my eyes, instinctively picking up my drink and throwing it in his face. He clenched his eyes shut, covering his eyes with a hiss. "You fucking bitch!" He growled. I slammed the glass down, sliding off my seat before running to the restroom. I pushed past people, the music growing distinct as I made it to the long hallway. My heels clacking and echoing through them.

"Bill! Bill!" I called out with a cry. I froze in my steps, hearing loud kissing noises and small groans. I took a turn, the kisses only becoming louder. I felt my heart sink, seeing familiar brunette hair with pink streaks tangled into his polished fingernails. Bill's eyes were shut closed as his lips moved against Amber's. His hands on her in a way that he would never touch me the same. I covered my mouth, feeling my face heat up, my eyes blurry as my stomach turned. Her hands were on him, places where I knew he was weak. I felt my knees shake, the pain in my feet from the heels where I once felt like I floated.

"Fuck...I love you, Amber, " He breathed against her lips. She smirked against his lips, moving her kisses down to his neck. He groaned, throwing his head back, his eyebrows knitting as her hand trailed down. I bit on my lip harshly, clenching my fists as they moved down to my sides. I dug my nails into the vegan leather that made my hand bag, turning around. I breathed heavily, my chest heaving as I stormed away. My face was damp by now, and I looked down as I moved past people, making my way out. Once the cold air hit me as I made it past the bouncer, I let out sobs, my chest heavy as I wiped away my tears. I looked at my hand, it was covered by the runny mascara and foundation I had on.

"God, how could they?" My throat was sore already from breathing uneasily, taking out my phone for a taxi.

***

I couldn't eat or sleep, staying in bed all day. The makeup from three days ago was still on my face with small residue as I laid in sweats. I held my pillow, hoping that the next sound from downstairs would be Bill opening the door with flowers in hand. Yet, I was disappointed after each small creak, having nothing come in return. I sat up, the sheets shuffling against me as I leaned against the headboard. I reached for my phone, gritting my teeth as I dialed her.

"What?" The feminine voice answered.

"I thought you fucking cared about me, " My breath was going at a familiar pattern from days ago, my nostrils flaring as my nails dug into my palm.

"I mean...why did you think I was trying to get you to break up with him?" Amber yawned.

"He's gonna do the same to you, " I snarled. She sighed, rustling could be heard from the other end.

"I don't think so...I mean. Why do you think he always comes home late?" She responded. I could feel the smirk on her face and scoffed, wiping the tear that rolled down my cheek.

"I don't even know you anymore, Amber, " I sniffled.

"When did you ever?" She breathed. Small kissing noises could be heard with more rustling.

"Who's on the phone, babe?" A masculine voice groggily spoke.

"No one, Bill, go back to sleep, " She giggled softly as kisses noises followed. "Stop, babe, " She whined softly as more kisses followed.

"How can I? You're so beautiful, " He murmured. I felt my throat form a lump, my stomach turning as if I could vomit right there and then. I clenched my jaw, putting my lips to the speaker.

"Fuck you both, " I snarled through bared teeth, closing the phone shut, tossing it aside. I sniffled, wiping my eyes one last time, before heading to the shower.

————————————————————————

WRITTEN BY MEEE

bill, bill kaulitz, angst, sad, kaulitz

[channoticedmeuwu]

IMAGINING. . . SOOBIN W TATTOOS !!

p — CHOI SOOBIN × FEM!READER | g — suggestive asfff, slight fluff, s2l!au kinda, | w — sexual tension type like a lot, pool scene, mentions of reader wearing revealing clothing (again it's literally a pool scene), mention of cigs somewhere + not really proofread

A/N — based on a thirst trap I saw on ig you have me on chokehold for the rest of the month <3 idc if the concept doesn't fit I needed it.

🖇️ READ PART TWO HERE !!

PARTIALLY INSPIRED BY ARIANA GRANDE'S “BREAK UP W/ YOUR GIRLFRIEND” MV & SONG

you've been friends with soobin for quite some time now�� you kicked it off at a cafe when your friend wanted to meet up after coming back to town. she had a few other friends there with her, choi soobin being one of them. “dude, you have to meet soobin,” you recalled your friend telling you, that you he was this fun guy with a great fashion sense, and you'd just brushed her aside, not paying too much attention.

but now, you kind of wished you did. soobin wasn't anything like you imagined. you probably pictured an average looking guy with a personality that reached depths, maybe wore a few fashionable pieces here and there. but you didn't expect him to have wear the simplest outfits, and yet look like— well, the way he did.

you eyed him in a white t shirt covering all of his arms, the thin material subtilty revealing dark outlines on his skin, a delicate pendant around his neck and fluffy hair brushed aside to make room for his glasses. and when he smiled at a joke your friend made...shit. he was kind of cute.

and soobin made his efforts to talk to you, but you couldn't help but focus on his body language— his fingers gripping his forearm, his jacket riding down to show a few tattoos on his shoulder— and you'd mask a smile at him when you'd hear him repeat a question he asked you earlier, trying not to focus on the way his hand rested on his thigh.

and you'd see soobin when your friends hung out often— usually sitting in one of the corners of the table where you could observe everyone talk, and then driving people home in his car. but, despite his appearance, soobin was a sweet fucking guy. always offering you a napkin at dinner or lending you his jacket on a particularly windy night.

and everytime he stretched while he silently watched everyone talk at the table, you noticed there was something scribbled on his soft skin underneath his full sleeve shirt. and he'd catch you staring sometimes, his bangs falling over his eyes as he bent over to tap you on your knee, asking with a small smile if you're lost in thought.

so maybe, soobin had been growing on you. just a bit.

and the night you left a party after arguing with your ex about how you don't want to “try again,” some back and forth between bittersweet, blaring music & heated expressions flashing through shifting lights— your relationship had come to an end as abruptly as it had started, and you intended to keep it that way. refusing with a harsh pull, you rubbed your bare arms as you walked away, sliding between sweaty bodies in the tight room.

and you remember taking a seat outside, trying to wrap yourself in a shawl as cold wind nipped at your bare legs, muttering curses to your ex. the uncomfortably irritating sound of a couple making out in the corner was making your headache worse, as blaring music from inside muffled with the blowing wind.

you glanced down at your phone, knowing it'll offer you better entertainment than whatever was inside, when you saw a couple of texts from soobin a few hours ago.

SOOBIN

[11:12 pm] hey, y/n, how's the party?

how was the party? you scoffed to yourself, cigarette smoke wafting around in the air as you twiddled your thumbs hovering above the keyboard, trying to think of a response— when you reached over and pressed the call button, not really expecting him to pick up. “hey, soobin. I know it's super late, but can you pick me up?”

and soobin's response was a bit delayed, as if he was shocked you called, but he replied with something that sounded in-between a ‘sure’ and a hum, his voice hoarse. “oh, soobin. did I wake you up?”

“no, no. I was wide awake,” then you heard him yawn. your cheeks flushed as you tapped your foot to the ground, “sorry about that, soobin.”

he ignored your apology, mumbling at you to send him your location with another yawn. maybe you should have thought twice before calling him at nearly 4 in the night. but you didn't know that soobin was secretly over the moon at you calling him, he was just too sleepy to show it— every second he got, he had always picked to be your side. slowing down his pace to walk beside you, or discreetly allowing his fingers to brush against yours whenever he got a chance to, had his heart beating like crazy. you had his heart beating like crazy.

and when you finally sat in the passenger seat of soobin's car after a few more calls he made confirming your location— fuck.

you knew there was something suspicious about soobin always wearing a full sleeve shirt even in the hottest weather possible, but last thing you expected was him having an arm full of tattoos resting on the wheel, the other out the window. his designs slowly circled and disappeared behind the strap of his black tank top. and when your eyes trailed below towards his sleeping shorts, accidentally catching them riding up as he bent over to lower the aircon—

you snapped your eyes forward, feeling a blush settle on your cheeks. your fingers clutching the end of your shawl tightened.

and little did you know, soobin did it on purpose. he'd seen the way you looked at him, your eyes slyly (or not) slipping down to gaze at his arm flex when he scratched the back of his neck or readjusted his hair, a guilty, dark shift to your eyes when you'd notice his fingers on his thighs. and was it that bad to admit he liked it when he saw the expression on your face lightly change when you noticed a tattoo peeking out? you'd slowly press your legs together, a hand moving to hide your face as you'd look the other direction, trying to focus at the conversation everyone else was involved in. but he'd see you slowly default back to him, and everytime, he'd feel a tingle in his stomach when you'd lick your lips, and excuse yourself to go to the bathroom.

“how are you? how was the party?” he gave you a sleepy smile in the car, his eyes glazing over you. you looked towards him, pressing your lips together at the way his hair fluffed up, his hand rubbing his thigh as he leaned his head back to the headrest, revealing the shape of his jaw—“good. met my ex. not doing that again,” you nodded, earning a small chuckle from him.

and throughout the drive, you felt yourself slipping into sleep, accidentally focusing on your reflection in the windshield instead of the traffic. your eyelids closing, the soft bass of a summer song playing in the background, the fresh car scent wafting around you— before the car would jerk, shooting you awake. “sorry,” soobin would mumble, throwing you an apologetic look before he'd suggest you lay your seat back, allowing you to sleep in a more comfortable position. and you remember refusing, curling into a ball to sleep instead.

and occasionally, a speeding car would pass by an intersection, and soobin would lean his arm out to stop you from falling forward as the car came to a sudden stop, a serious expression on his face as he asked you, “you okay?” and the two of you would trail your eyes down to his hand on your bare thigh, hearts skipping beats. and he'd snap his hand back, apologizing and trying to clear his intentions, when you'd just giggle him an, “its okay!” thanking him for looking out for you. and the drive would start again, and he'd yawn after hearing you yawn yet again, eyelashes bearing sleepy tears.

and right before he dropped you off at your place, he turned his body to face you, scratching the back of his neck. he was telling you something about not hesitating to call him, but did he really think you'd pay attention? your eyes watched the way his detailed arms flexed when he ran his hand through his hair, his fingers tugging at the material of his shorts. your eyes watched the stars sprinkled across his collarbones attentively, wishing you could see the designs that hid behind his clothes.

and when soobin held a small ‘get together’ as he called it— was really a party— you thought you'd really never lived. you weren't planning on going, but after being urged by everyone in your circle, there you were, wearing swimming clothes underneath your dress and holding hands with your friend as you walked into the venue.

and eyeing soobin in the crowd, soft giggles and hushed whispers as the bass snuck up your legs— and you felt your stomach tighten when he glanced over towards you, a hand gesturing to come closer.

and dipping your feet as you watched everyone urge soobin to jump in the pool— him shyly refusing with a shake of his hand as he backed away, trying not to glance at you, sitting sweetly as your legs tread in the water. and he didn't notice someone sneak behind him, pushing him in, earning cheers from everyone around. and when he came up to the surface— beads of water dripping down as he pushed his hair back with a scowl and furrowed eyebrows, his dimples suddenly popping out. and he noticed you giggling as he pulled his top off, your eyes glazing over the chain that hung in the dents of his shoulders and collarbones, and he broke out into a smile, slowly walking towards you. “come on, y/n, jump in.”

you refused without actually meaning to, but then, everyone started a chant lead by soobin— and the last thing you remember before your ears crashed against the surface of the water was soobin's chin coming to rest on your knees, tilting his head with a smirk as he snaked his hands around your thighs to pull you in.

and everyone followed suit, splashes of water against your cheeks as soobin held your arms, laughing as the waves hit your face.

and everything happened so fast, his arms clinging to you when someone splashed water on you, or him wiping the water out of his face with a soft gasp. his hand on your waist, your leg slowly wrapping around his waist as he pushed you into a corner when everyone left to grab towels— bending lower, almost underneath the water when you felt his breath hit the cold skin of your lips, a soft, “can I?” as he pulled your hair to the side, his lips against your own, pushing you against the cold walls of the pool.

the sensation of the ripples of water against your hips was sending you over the edge whenever he adjusted your legs around him, softly smiling when he'd hear you mumble something in between, feeling your hands around him. and it was almost horrifying the way you could hear him kiss you, despite the music in the back, despite the water rippling around the two of you.

and you remember you snuck your fingers to pull lightly at his hair, the other hand finding it's way to tug the pendant around his neck when he pulled away— hooded eyes and cute puffy lips, his cheeks pink as he whispered, dragging your hand down his tattooed chest.

“if you keep doing that, we'll have a little problem.”

txt — masterlist

main taglist (hmu to get added!) — @koishua @navyhyuck @allegxdly @daystiny  @kdyism  @neotism  @bluejaem  @radiorenjun  @sleepylixie @oifelixcmerebrou @mrkcore @imdamnconfused  @sicluvz @abhirami20 @tyongishs @emvrd @brxght-world @1921choi @bangchansbae

I’d appreciate if you’d give me a little feedback on the drabble if you read, whether it’s an ask, a reply or in the tags of the rb! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

[bbyquokka]

6:19 pm (lmh)

genre: timestamp, smut — MDNI!

warnings: gn reader, soft dom reader, sub minho, praise kink, sexual asphyxiation (choking), grinding 

words: 1k ~ (1071)

a/n: i just wanted to write about a member getting choked & ig minho came into mind :]

☆ m.list — ☆ you can also read it on my ao3

do not repost and/or translate! feedback & reblogs are highly advised and appreciated

“you're so pretty.” you hum, twisting his long hair around your finger. “your hair has grown since the last time i saw you.”

“do you like it?” he mumbles, a faint pink glow rising onto his cheeks.

“i adore it, minho. you're so pretty and beautiful.” you coo, running your fingers through his hair slowly. you watch his eyes flutter shut, his plump lips pressing together in a thin line. 

he holds onto your hips gently, occasionally stroking it with his thumb. the gently contact makes you shiver and hum softly. the man you're currently straddling is looking so perfect, so pretty; it'd be a shame to ruin it.

“did i do good?” his eyes flutter open, scanning your facial features for any signs of pride you may feel towards him. you meet his gaze halfway, smiling lovingly at him before placing your hand on his cheek.

you stroke under his eye gently with your thumb, minho nuzzling into your palm like a kitten.

“you did so well, baby. i'm proud of you.” 

“really?!” his eyes sparkle at your approval. you nod slowly as you hum, fingertips delicately dancing along his jawline.

“really. im so so proud of you, min.” minho whimpers softly, squirming underneath you. you can feel his length hardening underneath you, poking and rubbing against you.

“have i been a good boy?” he whimpers, looking down from embarrassment. you hook your finger under his chin, gently tilting it upwards so he is forced to look at you again.

“you have, min. you've been a very, very good boy.” he gently squeezes your hips and swallows thickly in an attempt to moisten his dry throat. 

you lean down, lips softly grazing against the skin of his neck. he still smells faintly of sweat, aftershave overpowering in an attempt to cover up the smell. you nudge the tip of your nose against his pressure point before pressing your lips against it and suckling softly.

minho whimpers softly as he tilts his head to the side, allowing more room for you. you gently sink your teeth into the tender skin being careful not to leave any marks just in case. 

minho gently squeezes your waist, hands trailing up and down your sides slowly and gently. you kiss his neck gently, focusing on the spots that make him whimper and wither.

“y/n..” he shaky breathes out, lip caught between his teeth. you hum softly to let him know you're listening whilst trailing your lips up to his jawline.

“i want..” he starts, trailing off. a wave of embarrassment washes over him, the pink tint of his cheeks turning a soft red.

“tell me, my pretty boy.” you say against his lips, letting them softly touch.

“i want my reward…” you chuckle softly, trailing your hand up his chest. you feel his heart rate speeding up against your fingertips, thumping hard and fast.

you let your fingers stroke his neck slowly, finding it amusing at the way minho's body tenses up. his breath hitches in his throat, hands gripping your hips tighter. his length rubbing against you slowly, minho thinking he is sneaky in the way he is currently grinding up against you.

“p-please..” he whimpers. you hum softly, letting your fingers ever so gently poke and press against the pressure points of his neck.

“please what?”

“choke me.” 

“that's my good boy.” you coo. minho let's out a desperate whimper before a soft sigh is shortly followed from your fingers wrapping around his neck. you ever so slightly press the sides.

minho softly pants, already feeling the pleasure kicking in. his toes curl, eyes fluttering shut.

“m-more…” you chuckle softly before increasing the pressure. minho whimpers softly, desperately grinding up against you. the feeling of his oxygen being cut off is too much for him; it drives him insane.

“my pretty boy that likes to be choked. you're so very adorable for me, min.” you lean in, kissing his cheek gently.

“tell me.” he splutters, eyes open slowly. “tell me what i like to hear the most, please.”

you decide to sit flush on his length, rocking your hips back and forth in time with his movement. watching your boyfriend tremble and be reduced to nothingness all from the power of your hands and words, is amusing.

“i love you, my sweet boy.” minho shivers, his hand flying up to wrap around your wrist. 

“again..”

“i love you. i love you so much, min.” you repeat over and over again. with each sentence, minho becomes more and more desperate. 

“c-cant.” he chokes out, fingernails digging into the skin of your wrist. his dick is rock hard by now, desperate from touch and to be free from its strangling restraints. his underwear is sticky due to his pre cum leaking from his tip.

“can't?” you question, licking your lips slowly at how flustered and desperate minho looks.

“more, need so much more. please?” you release some pressure from around his neck, minho whining softly and feeling displeased.

“you're so pretty when you beg, min.” you purr as you squeeze his neck, this time, harder. minho arches his back, soft and heavy pants leave his lips.

“want to be.. want to be inside you.” he chokes out, his oxygen depleting, head feeling heavy and hazy.

“do you want to be inside me, min?” you purr, leaning down and kissing his lips. he weakly kisses back, unable to comprehend the pleasure that's currently coursing through his veins.

he feels high on lust and it hurts.

“so bad. want to be inside you so bad. please y/n? please.. even if it's just for a little while? i just want to feel your warmth.”

“you really do have a way with words. you're such a charming man, lee minho.”

“is that a yes?” his eyes sparkle with hopefulness. you lift your hips up, clumsily pulling of yours and his pants, leaving you both in just underwear and t-shirts.

you go back to rocking your hips against minho, sighs of frustration and desperation evident in his whimpers. he's so close, yet so far. the flimsy fabric of your underwear being the only barrier that's stopping him from being inside you and he hates that.

he desperately tugs at your underwear to which you swat his hand away. his eyes fill with tears slowly, trickling down his cheeks making you coo.

“such a desperate yet pretty boy.”

don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. enjoy!

tags [open]: @sstarryoong , @septicrebel , @bbujiikseu , @cixrosie , @alyszaen , @skizzel-reblogs , @writerracha , @fluffylino

[femchef]

Pretty sure I haven’t posted any wig posts in a long time - but!!! Here is one. Also I’ve decided to focus on collecting more pink for 2024, so #goals I guess. ✨💕🎀

The dress is Classic Teahouse Chiffon Frill from Metamorphose Temps de Fille. The blouse and head bow are also from meta. Socks are from Sock Dreams (honestly I’m torn about the color pairing, but I kinda love the luminous yellow stripes with the pink?) and the shoes are Angelic Pretty. The earrings and necklace are from a small maker called Jelly Cherry Accesorios (you can find them on ig).

By this point it’s safe to say I’m a meta girl. I’m really impressed with their size inclusivity. I’ve been around the egl community for about 18+ years at this point, and while a lot of brands have scaled back on their sizing (especially btssb, they very rarely release anything larger than 38 inches anymore), metamorphose actually jumped into making their clothes more accessible to different sizes. I took a break from egl fashion for a while because looking at the sizes of most brands is… not always good for mental health - and I made a promise to myself last year that I would only buy things that felt comfortable, and not just things that fit by the strictest definition. There IS about a 4,000¥ difference in their sizes, but for the quality of the garments AND the fact that their larger sizes are designed for larger bodies (longer skirt lengths, longer bodice cuts that accommodate larger busts, longer straps and softer elastics that aren’t tight on the skin to start with) I’m perfectly ok with that. Their plus size line typically maxes out between 50-66 inch bust line for reference, and they do an inclusive release for nearly all their designs, which is honestly pretty singular for egl brands - instead of doing maybe one plus size release in one cut, like angelic pretty tends to do (with less frequency), and which is nearly always some kind of full-shirring bodice (typically not very flattering on larger bodies). So far, the only other Japanese brand that makes decent plus size pieces is Artelier Pierrot. Some brands - like Emily Temple Cute and PhysicalDrop, are experimenting with plus size releases, but so far the largest I’ve seen from either of them has still only topped out at around 48-49 inches in the bust.

To be fair, part of this is because the western audience is pretty small. Aside from that western lolitas have a really developed second-hand shopping and collection culture and are a lot less likely to purchase new products directly from the brand (we also have a scalping problem with Angelic Pretty products but that is another issue).

ANYWAY - let’s end this plug for now, but if anyone out there has ever wanted to ask someone about meta products, or has questions but is interested in purchasing, send me a pm?

[guavagyu]

blush - y.jh

this is part 3 of the eyeshadow series!

request: “request: jeonghan fanfic where new stylist/makeup artist and jeonghan fall in love? slow burn, sexual tension, secret relationship typa thang ;) <3!”

smut probably next or 2nd next part? idk

ITALIC WORDS REPRESENT THOUGHTS!

[prev.] [next]

wc: 970

contents: slice of life ig, fluff, humor (im such a comedian el em eff ay oh), afab!reader, tall!reader (178 cm or 5’10), stylist!reader, makeup-artist!reader, model!jeonghan, swearing, non-idol!au, swearing, lmk if there r more!

recap:

yup. this is great. gotta clean. ugh why did i agree to my place?? you just decided to let later-you to worry about it and prepared for bed.

——

friday - y/n’s pov!

——

@hannie_hae:

hi! you still up for 3:00? :)

fuck. your phone read 2:17 pm. you had gotten distracted from all of your other friday endeavors, and jeonghan’s visit totally slipped your mind. you rushed to get off the couch, and begin to clean. you had until 2:30, and then you’d take the shortest shower of all eternity, and then hastily make yourself presentable. ‘A+’ for planning skills, a big fat ‘F’ for time management. and so, all that planning was what you did. you practically ran around your apartment with a vacuum whilst spraying the couches with leather cleaner. after grabbing two rags, one to wipe the tables and the couches down, you moved on to the mop for the kitchen. you clorox-wiped more than anyone had ever clorox-wiped. the clock read 2:27. wow, i probably broke some sort of record. so, you had an extra 2-ish minutes to waste in the shower. just kidding, you had to be as quick as possible, it’d be horrible for jeonghan to arrive before you were ready.

god damn, the clock read 2:54 and you were more finished than gordon ramsay’s beef wellington. your hair was dry, and looked amazing. your makeup was subtle, and your tshirt and sweatpants were..okay maybe not the best wardrobe choice, but it’s not like you’re visiting a 3 michelin star restaurant, allow yourself to be comfortable in your own home!

the clock just turned to 3:01 when jeonghan knocked on your door,

“hi! come in,” you smiled, silently relieved for him to be just as casual as you were. a black hoodie, grey sweatpants, and some sneakers. he gave you a small "hi!" and took off his shoes, "uh, you can sit on the couch, please make yourself at home! ill be right back, ill get some makeup stuff," you walked back to your bathroom while jeonghan unpacked the things he brought with him and settled down on the couch, looking around everywhere, tapping his fingers on the arm, waiting for your return. and a few minutes later, you returned with..a lot of makeup, to say the least,

"woah, that's a lot," jeonghan giggled, making you laugh,

"yeah,"

"um..how long do you think we'll need for all of this?" he asked,

"oh, we don't have to do all of this, just more options," you gave a small smile as you organized them into their respective categories,

"oh okay, i mean i have time, i was just curious, it's not that i dont want to be here i-" he rambled on, clearly a bit flustered, his ears and cheeks tinting an adorable pink,

"jeonghan, you're fine, let's just get on with it, alright?" you put your hand on top of his, calming him down a little bit,

"o-okay," he smiled, blushing harder but giving a small thumbs up, cute,

"awesome, where should we start? what concepts should we practice?" you looked through the outrageously large pile (that had been organized by you),

"let's start simple, maybe let's just work with colors for now, how about blue?" jeonghan suggested,

"whatever you feel like is fine by me," and you started on a simple blue themed look,

----

2 hours later, 5:09 pm

----

after 2 hours of trying out makeup looks, palettes littering the table, a pile of used makeup wipes in a trash can,

"alright, i think that's enough for your skin today," you smiled, noticing his reddening face, "did i do too much?"

"no no, you're fine, don't worry," jeonghan reassured you, giving the cutest giggle ever,

"okay, if you say so. can i get you some water or anything? we've been sitting for a while," you asked, realizing you forgot to offer when he first arrived,

"yeah, some water would be great!" he smiled, leaning back into the cushions,

"sure!" you headed to the kitchen, soon returning with a glass of water, "that good?"

"it's awesome, thanks!" ugh, is he always this cute? it makes me want to pin him down and- woah. that was, um, wow. that was quite the intrusive thought if i do say so myself. ha. ha. ha. during this thought segment of yours, you ended up zoning out..directly staring at jeonghan, causing him to be flustered, confused, then concerned. he thought there was something on his face, but after calling your name out a few times,

"hey, y/n?" he waved a hand in front of your face, knocking you back to reality,

"huh? what? im so sorry, just zoned out for a bit," you awkwardly laughed, flustered from your thoughts,

"you're good, but i think i'm going to head out now, thank you so much for having me over!" he smiled again, ugh that smile is going to kill me,

"no problem, anytime! make sure you don't forget anything here," you said as you prepared to open the door,

"yup, got everything, thanks again!" he gave the most adorable wave as he walked through the door, leaving, making you return to gather your makeup, put the trash can back, and collapse on the couch. you sigh, a smile settling on your face from what seemed to be a successful meeting. but..those thoughts you had were quite interesting.

--

jeonghan's pov!

--

holy shit. thank the lord i was able to leave before i had a meltdown. why did i think that me being close to y/n for so long would be okay for me to handle? wait..when they stared at me..were they actually starting at ME? or..did they actually zone out? fuck, why am i stuck with y/n? it's only sooner or later they find out about my dumbass crush on them

--

y/n's pov!

--

what the hell was i thinking? zoning out like that while staring at him? jeonghan probably thinks he’s stuck working with a creep. this is great.

--

© guavagyu 2023. all rights reserved. plagiarization, reposting, translating, and/or rewriting ANY and ALL of my works is prohibited.

[lightning-writes]

good heart (faulty machine of a man) - 14/30

fic summary: bucky meets someone at therapy

chapter summary: bucky tries to find support (alternatively, bucky is a big flirt)

word count: 1880

tags: post endgame, pre tfatws, slow burn, canon divergent, canon compliant, au

warnings: suicide mention, panic attack

a/n: flirty!bucky will never not be my fav!

AO3 MASTERLIST X

At his hearing, Bucky was told that missing therapy is like missing a parole meeting. So, when Raynor allows him to miss their session, it feels like a trap. In a way, it is, because she tells him that she wants him to attend a support group instead and have the moderator sign a form.

“A support group for what?” he’d asked on the phone that morning.

“Pick a trauma.” When he protests and tries to think of a way out of it, Raynor has thought of all the excuses and tricks. “James, just try it.”

She sends him an email with a list of locations and the types of groups she thinks might be helpful to him. He sees one in a school in Greenpoint and decides this is the one.

Rue: hey 4:13 pm

Rue: you’re not on the appt book 4:13 pm

Rue: are you okay 4:14 pm

Rue: is that allowed 4:14 pm

Rue: are you on some sort of avengers mission lol 4:17 pm

Rue: no offense but are there even avengers anymore? 4:39 pm

Rue: i mean ig there’s clint but that’s it? 4:41 pm

Bucky: Raynor is making me go to a support group 5:30 pm

Bucky: Sorry, I just got off the train 5:35 pm

Bucky: I just got here gtg 5:49 pm

Rue: good luck 5:52 pm

After he surveys the school, exits and such, he steps into the back of the meeting. It’s in a large classroom, looks like a music room, and all the chairs face the front of the classroom, toward a podium. The person talking, a short woman with short hair, falters mid sentence when she sees him. He averts his eyes from the few turning to him now, tugging his cap down lower. He finds a seat in the back. She’s talking about her late sister, who was killed by a drunk driver.

“Thank you for sharing, Tessa.” Another woman stands, addressing the room. She looks like a shrink, flowing beige cardigan and pants, braids pinned in a crown. “Does anyone else want to share?” No one volunteers. “Hank, you mentioned something before the meeting. Would you like to share that with everyone else?”

Hank, a man in his sixties, hesitates before hauling himself to his feet. His foot. He has a prosthetic and a cane. The metal clicking sound as he walks to the front feels familiar to Bucky.

“Hey everyone.”

“Hi Hank,” the room greets.

“I’d been coming to this group since my Carrie passed, but uh, another one bites the dust.” His laugh is weak, but some people humor him. “My buddy, Reese, he… he took his life this past Sunday.”

People murmur condolences. Bucky studies Hank, the way his breathing is labored, the downcast of his eyes, the way he clutches his cane and leans into its support.

“We served together,” Hank starts. “He was something of a superstar… and a real people’s person. Every commanding officer loved him like their own son… and he’s the reason I’m still here.” Hank pats his metal leg. “You know, out of all of us, Reese seemed to be the last person we’d ever think there was something going on. He,” his voice breaks as tears start rolling down his leather face, “he re-integrated the best out of all of us. His girl, Maggie, had been his rock overseas and the reason he made it this far.”

(A flash of… something rises in Bucky. He feels his skin prickle with it. He pushes it down. He doesn’t know how much more of this he can handle.)

“Reese was one of the people, uh, ‘dusted’, they say, and when he returned, he found out he had cancer. Lung cancer.” Hank is openly crying now. “And he… he didn’t want to be a burden to ol’ Maggie, so he…”

The group therapy gets up and puts a steady hand on Hank’s shaking shoulder. She whispers something in his ear, her hand moving against his back. He nods, taking the back of his hand to wipe his face.

“Reese was my hero, my brother. It feels like a piece of me is missing, and now I’m left with no one.”

The therapist starts to say something to the whole group about social support and emergency resources, but Bucky’s out in the hall before he hears the end. He blindly opens his phone, to check the time, but clicks the notification.

Rue: you wanna get dinner? 6:45 pm

(He goes to type his answer, but his fingers are trembling. Memories of Steve ebb through his mind, waves of nostalgia and grief and bitter hurt chasing them. He barrels out of the hall, into the playground area.)

“Bucky?” he hears in his hands. Dilated eyes land on his phone. He realizes he called her. He puts the phone to his ear. “Bucky, are you okay?”

(His voice is unreliable. His chest tightens. He’s embarrassed. He’s panicked.)

“James,” Rue prompts softly, “draw a square with your finger. On a table, on your leg, on the floor. Are you doing it?”

He sits on the asphalt, near a seesaw, and runs his trembling finger against the ground. The grit under his skin feels good.

“I’m going to assume yes,” her voice is light. “On the down stroke, inhale… when you go across, hold that breath. On the up stroke exhale… when you go across, hold again.”

He hears her lead by breathing in the same pattern. It reminds him of the first time they officially met. He follows silently. She tells him to keep drawing the square, to focus on the way his chest rises and falls, to focus on his feeling under his finger as he draws.

“You’re safe, Bucky,” she whispers. He takes a shaky breath. “You with me, old man?” He huffs a chuckle, hearing the smile in her voice. “Where are you? Let me meet you.”

////

“God, you are so intense.”

Bucky looks to his left and sees Rue. She’s wearing all black - black coat over black sweater, black jeans, and combat boots - but an easy smile. Her face is fresh and pink from the cold.

(It’s only on the way back to the subway, he realizes they’d been matching.)

“You’re so…” She tilts her head down, looks through her brows, and devoids her features of amusement.

“I’m vigilant.”

“You’re off the clock.” She loops her arm through his. “C’mon, I’m craving a burger.”

They find themselves in a chain burger place, where Rue flirts with the young cashier. His already ruddy face reddens more. Bucky sees her wink at him as she tips him.

“Do you flirt with everyone?”

(The question surprises them both, but he sees the delight in her dark eyes.)

“Are you jealous, James?” Her eyes search his unyielding face. “I’d flirt with you, but I don’t think you’d be able to handle it.”

“I could keep up.” Her eyebrows shoot up at his sure tone; he shrugs.

(There’s a shift between them, he notices, and it’s easier. It’s like they broke through the seal of whatever held either of them back. He’s not sure whether it’s their vulnerability or all events leading to this moment, but he’s not complaining.)

The waitress running out orders passes them, skirt flitting past. Bucky notices her legs.

“Okay, ladies’ man.” He knows his answer made her falter. Or maybe, she caught him checking out the waitress. “Show me what you’ve got, then.”

“Well, that would be inappropriate,” he says, putting on a pious tone. He gives her a teasing look. “HIPAA and all that.”

“Right,” she drawls. She looks unfazed, but he wonders if that’s a mask. She spots something over his shoulder, so she says, “Flirt with the server. If you get her number, it’ll prove you still got the moves.”

Bucky stares at her a second too long. Rue doesn’t flinch.

“I’m not going to flirt with someone unsolicited.”

“Trust me, it’ll be solicited.” 

(Bucky raises an eyebrow. Are you saying she’ll be interested or are you saying you’d be interested? he thinks)

She raises one back. “Unless you’re scared.”

Bucky heaves a sigh and rolls his eyes. He might be acting accosted by this whole affair, but his interest is finally piqued.

(He finally feels powerful, knowing this is an area in which he excels.)

He glances over at the waitress again. She seems about the same age as Rue. Her long thin braids are pulled back and held with a bright green elastic. She has a bright smile as she interacts with a family of three, parents and a young child. She leans to place a plate in front of the child. Her skirt lifts in the back, exposing more of her brown legs.

“Okay.”

He’s game. He squares his shoulders and runs a hand through his hair. Rue tries to hide her unbridled interest behind a mildly amused expression. When she schools her features, he knows that means she’s up. The same leggy waitress comes over and sorts out their food.

“Aren’t you cold, doll?” Bucky asks, leaning back in his chair easily. He lets her see him drag his gaze up her legs.

“Um,” she instantly flustered, “it’s part of the uniform.” She tries to smile, but he can see the mild panic in her eyes. “I’m running around anyway.”

He relaxes his stare to something more sensuous. “That you are.”

(If she turns her attention to Rue for help, he’ll stop. If she looks at him, even briefly, he’ll continue.)

“Is there anything else I can get for you guys?” she asks. Her eyes flit to him, then lower.

“Nothing you can give us right now,” Bucky says. He notices the way her breath catches at the base of her throat. “What was your name again?”

“Evie.” She plays with a braid idly, their gazes connect. He smirks.

“Evie,” he repeats slowly. “Thank you, Evie. We’ll let you know when we need you.”

“My pleasure.”

(His eyes tell her it will be. She gets the message, bolder now. He notices the way her hips swing as she walks away.)

“What the shit,” Rue hisses. She’s fanning herself with her hand dramatically. She’s on the verge of laughter, shock written over her features. “That was the most intense smolder I’ve ever seen. Are you a fucking vampire? Holy shit.”

Bucky shrugs. He reminds her, “I was a spy. I had to be both invisible and extremely noticeable… whatever the occasion calls for.” He picks up his burger and bites into it.

She follows suit, humming in delight as she does. “God, I love this place.”

Evie returns, approaching like a ghost. “I, um, brought extra napkins,” her flustered act is back, ��in case you need them.”

“Thank you, darling,” he smiles like a shark.

(Involuntarily, his eyes pass over her once more.)

“James,” Rue is laughing. She’s rifling through the napkins until she gets to the last one. “You did it, you’ve still got it.” She hands him the napkin.

(He sees the loopy blue letters of Evie’s name and a phone number. There’s a light brown kiss over it. It also says, so you can warm me up.)

[pink-valkyrie-writes]

hello :) welcome to my page!

My name is Kore and I decided i’m going to write for overwatch. This had been my hyper fixation since 2016 but i never got the chance to actually write though.

What will I post/ write?

headcanons, one shots, series, or quick blurbs that come to my hea

fluff, angst, hurt to comfort, you name it

i will write sfw and nsfw. To indicate nsfw on my master list , it’ll show a * right next to the link

will write character x reader, i will write character x character but not as frequent

will do requests if requests are open (if they are closed, pls don’t send in any request)

i write for everyone of all skin tones and genders, if you request ‘____ x reader’ majority of it will be kept to a gender neutral reader. my content is for everyone to enjoy

if i happen to write anything not gender neutral it will be indicated

i can do poly ships if requested

I do all women characters, rarely males. i lean towards women a lot more then men so i feel more comfortable doing this.

What will I not write?

I will not write any extreme nsfw themes (non-con, incest of any form, bestiality, etc. )

i will not write any major character deaths since i’m a softie🧍‍♀️

i will not write anything thing offensive to anyone’s race, gender, or ethnicity. we’re here to have a good time

i will not write character x oc

i won’t write for male characters, i may included stuff with the male characters, or rarely involved them romantically in a story- sorry ig

warning: i may not write for amab or male readers only because i don’t feel i have experience or knowledge to write for them. if you do want that a male reader, pls pm me and give tips! like i said we’re here to have a good time and i don’t want to be offensive- but like i mentioned i may not write for them

now that’s out of the way, i hope to write fics yall can enjoy! bye :)

[till-we-become-monsters]

1) aizawa (mha) or Nikolai (bsd)

2) lighter

3) depends on the weather and the mood I’m in

4) I don’t know what those are-

5) a greenish turquoise blue I would say?

6) ….do what?

7) hair ties

8) full 1(?) empty a whole Walmart bag full

9) secret third option (energy drinks)

10) meh, maybe

11) none. (Cries in chronic illness)

12) it’s 3 am, idk.

13) like…..9 pm last night?

14) YESSSS

15) yes (to a cat) but I can’t see my child anymore :(

16) nope

17) I forget but I can see up close better then far away (and if anything happens to my right eye I legally can’t drive without my glasses (which i hardly wear lol))

18) suave shampoo and conditioner.

19) if you want me too :)

20) the name of the brand

21) nothing but (somehow) my tolerance of people

22) ✨ traumatized ✨

23) love.

24) idk- looking at stars ig?

25) idrc

26) all.

27) last night? About 7 (5 am - 12 pm)

28) nope, not unless I have too (I don’t go outside anyway)

29) crispy and skin burning.

30) I don’t think so

31) none, I don’t share my music with anyone

32) nah

33) I don’t remember

34) probably a few but I can’t name them rn

35) EST

36) 0 but I’m thinking of changing

37) no one

38) idk, lavender? (Does that exist?)

39) sometimes

40) just gum

41) I don’t like coffee

42) Pinterest, Spotify, SoundCloud, character.ai

43) YES.

44) my bio father ig

45) not really- it’s blurry

46) the nightmare before Christmas

47) asking a friend if they knew how blogs got shadow banned or not

48) never

49) sometimes

50) sure! Probably won’t answer right awa though sometimes

here’s weirder asks

who is/are your comfort character(s)?

lighter or matches?

do you leave the window open at night?

which cryptyd being do you believe in?

what color are your eyes?

why did you do that?

hair-ties or scrunchies?

how many water bottles are in your room right now?

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?

would you slaughter the rich?

favorite extracurricular activity?

what kind of day is it?

when was the last time you ate?

do you love the smell of earth after it rains?

are you a parent? (all answers qualify)

can you drive?

are you farsighted or nearsighted?

what hair products do you use?

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

do you say soda or pop?

something you’ve kept since childhood?

what type of person are you?

how do you feel about chilly weather?

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

perfume/body spray or lotion?

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

about how many hours of sleep did you get?

do you wear a mask?

how do you like your shower water?

is there dishes in your room?

what type of music keeps you grounded?

do you have a favorite towel?

the last adventure you’ve been on?

is there a song you know every word to by heart?

what’s your timezone?

how many times have you changed your url?

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years?

a soap bar that smells good?

do you use lip balm?

did you have any snacks today?

how do you take your coffee?

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site?

what’s your take on spicy foods?

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it?

can you remember what happened yesterday?

favorite holiday film?

what was the last message you sent?

when did you first try an alcohol beverage?

can you skip rocks?

can i tag you in random stuff?

[m4nd0l0r]

Angelic Lips.

Description: A fixation bleeds through him: he catches himself always glancing by.

Ship: Five Hargreeves x GN! Reader

Word Count: 860+ (this is more of a drabble tbh-)

Author’s Note: writer’s block is a bitch and i fought it off with horniness so ig this is a lime (or lemon/smut?? genuinely idk)— i mean it deals with mouths, making out and what i thought oral fixation meant before taking a google search at 1am and becoming so aghast (basically i thought it was a mouth fetish or smth rather than a keen liking to biting and sucking cos of childhood shenanigans—) so it seems accurate, this also is just pure filth n’ brain rot of five, with that said i hope you enjoy reading and pls interact for a little boosting!! <33 (i’ll be posting more five content soon once i get a little more inspo/motivation!!!)

(Five’s body is aged up, and his consciousness ranges from 25 to 50 in my works for him from now on— However you decided which age you want for your experience/comfort!!)

Five Taglist: @ells-graveyard @noahspector @aelinismyqueen @sunweee @fivelegance @ne0boss @twauna00 @placidpluto @eichenhouseproperty @heartsforsuyin @ghostlywavelengths @ghostlycherryblossomwonderland @seconds-not-decades @coolcatlover4 @emotionally-unstabel @peachy-wolfhard @its-loki-bitch @raven-fandomtrash @theilliterateskankula @magicstrange @venusrambles @whereintheworldisspencerreid @honeycombdumbass @kazuive @oscarisaacsleftballsack @zenithinthebin @peachteeaaa @rchaoz @wickedmystery @wordsandnerds @umbrellatte @666abby6666 @iameddiemunsonshair @starlightinhumanform @vennythearsonist @trashmouthsahra @crinklypink @halfumbrella (if you want to be removed/added, pls tell me via pm!!)

This started all because of your damn mouth.

Five keeps, no- always finds himself watching. He feels as if he can’t turn away- that it pulls him back into this tight spot he can’t crawl out of. 

And he never tries to get out. 

Half of the time, he was sure you’ve catched him looking— it wouldn’t surprise him if you have. He feels- knows that he was too obvious, that he was becoming so perverted- that his eyes shouldn’t dare to look at you ever again. 

And yet each time he can- he dares. He feels vulgar, as if he has sinned, but when he sees your lips quirk up into a smile, your canines, molars form a smile that you think shows a little too much gum to the point you try to hide it— he likes it- he can’t help but look. 

He looks at you as if he’s seen an angel. 

His eyes travel down to the curve of your lips- noticing your cupid’s bow accentuating the shape. He takes in every smile, every frown, every time your mouth gaped open and shifted close. How it flattens as you purse your mouth out of frustration. 

He likes how red— angelic, your lips are— how soft it is when you kiss him- when you leave crimson kiss marks on his cheek- neck— even in his own mouth, he loves it. 

It always starts small- so sudden at first. A stolen moment in time, you both grasp unto it. 

His face pressed up on your cheek, and he breathes. He draws you in- the scent of laundry and other sorts of chemicals flood his senses- but it sets him a reminder- to know again that he was not dreaming. 

That he was not creative enough to imagine you and your lips right next to his.

He plants a kiss— it was almost.. sweet- unlike the bitterness of cold coffee, the same one he loves to take in- much to your disdain. It was one that lingers through your skin like a spark. His fingers hold you near, and you could feel the desperation for closeness through his palms.

You push back, returning the gentleness. And yet he strays away, making you want to chase him but he comes back for more— like a starving man- knowing the pleasure is finally in his reach— the desperation clings as his lips push in- His lips smile against yours as he takes you in, his tongue on yours, teeth clashing. 

His viridescent eyes watches you, the glint in his look could eat you alive- consume you like fire to wood- turning your vigor into smoke— it was obscene- your chest felt stuffy as you could feel his heart beat so furiously just inches away from your own. 

His fingers tracing over your hip bone up to your sides. Your hands hold on his upper arms— his again on your hips- sliding across your back, his thumb rubbing shapes, leaving feathered caresses down your spine. 

You were aflamed- burning under his touch, his skin— his lips trailing down your neck- his weight pressing onto your body, molding you both like clay risen from the earth’s mass ever so perfectly. 

You both needed to breathe— gasping unto each other- But if he were to pull away, he’d feel as if he stopped being alive— that he couldn’t be away. He wants- needs to further feel you- taste you. His hands grabbing you everywhere- his tongue briefly touching your lower lip— he breathes, takes you in like the air he lacks itself. 

“Five— Five, shit—“ Left your swelling lips. He only rasps ‘fuck’ before wrestling away, letting your blood rush somewhere else- not on your cheeks- your lips— the crimson merely pumps swiftly in your chest- adrenaline swimming in your veins. 

Silence fills the space between you. As you breathe in and out, hands on the sides of his arms— all he does is stare at your red lips- all swollen up, glistening with a vermillion glow, because of him. 

It was tantalizing.

Impulsivity floods his thinking: and he is a drowning man.

“Open your mouth.” His voice strungs you out of your daze— making you blink. It surprises him too- he shouldn’t.

And yet. 

You slowly part your lips— his thumb coaxes you, further separating them. Your pupils watch him as he finds himself staring on the inside of your mouth. All teeth and gum- supple skin— Enough of that, he tells himself.

There was no point in this- he knows how you feel— how you taste- what was the point of checking the source? But he continues- an urge sinks in deep his fingertips— it was not enough. 

“Wider.” 

His knee shifts, now resting between your thighs- he jerks his clothed thigh up, causing you to let out a small throaty gasp. He only takes this opportunity- slipping his finger in. And just as he was about to move away— He felt your tongue slide on the pad of his thumb and your lips quirk into a mischievous smile. 

He only broadens his shit grinning grin even further. 

“Atta, angel.”

[spacexseven]

tuna quick concept for you: drunk yans. hear me out.

flirty!drunk chuuya. even when hes a yandere he somehow also manages to be a tsundere. sure, he stalks you and frets and sends you gifts and wants to kill anyone who gets close to you… but that doesnt mean he has a crush on you! dont be so arrogant! his “flirting” is a lot of getting nervous, saying something super rude or embarrassing, and then wanting to punch himself in the face about it for the next week. (especially with mean! subordinate au chuuya who is already flustered cuz he knows you dont like him) but when hes drunk? entirely different story. he usually scowls and looks away when you try to greet him, but now he’s so happy to see you he’s about to fall out of his seat. as soon as youre within arms reach hes all over you. touchy touchy touchy. hangs off your arm and giggles, every so often burying his red face in your neck and nipping at you. if you move away he just giggles some more before tugging you back over. he’ll only get bolder as he gets drunker, eventually moving over so much that he’s just fully sitting in your lap (for my male/amab readers he might start teasingly grinding down on you at this point) and spending the rest of his consciousness muttering about how pretty you are. might grab your face and try to kiss you but will completely miss and headbutt you. cue more giggles. he can only hold his liquor for so long, so eventually he’ll just curl up and go to sleep and you can carry his 10 pound ass out. expect him to avoid you like the plague for a while if he manages to remember.

emotional!drunk dazai. yan dazai plays his cards close to his chest with you to start out with. the idea of you knowing just how much he wants you makes him anxious, out of both resistance to vulnerability and fear of scaring you off. he’ll be pretty aloof, maybe even cruel, to try to offset his growing desires. it becomes harder as he gets more attached to you to not pounce on you and smother you with his affections every time you enter his sight, but hes determined. but then he gets drunk and all bets are off. it could be for any number of reasons, trying to give himself alcohol poisoning, oda and ango or the ada inviting him out to unwind, whatever. he ends up the same way, miserable. all he can think about is how he wants to die, needs to die. how pointless living is and how hes so empty and- you. he starts to think about YOU. how happy you make him feel. and once he gets his hands on you theres no way out. he’ll either start wandering around looking for you or the people he’s with will bring you to him cuz he keeps muttering your name sadly and its getting hard to watch. its certainly a sight, seeing THE dazai with wide eyes brimming with tears, tugging at your shirt and whining. if you try to get away he’ll start sobbing and throw his arms around you and beg you not to leave him so just let him do what he needs to do. hope you wanted to spend you night with dazai (who, if this is mafia dazai, might be your boss) snuggling you and murmuring insane little rants about his feelings for you into your neck, which he only stops doing so he can kiss you wetly on the cheek. if you think you can just play along til you get him smiling again and then leave you’re sorely mistaken. he WILL notice you trying to sneak out and WILL grab your hand and nervously ask where you’re going, already starting to get upset again. you’re in for a long night. 

was gonna do more but it turns out im a LIAR and this wasnt quick at all. let me know if you want more ig i dont know why this made me so insane. I got sleepy drunk ranpo and clingy drunk aku on the back burner.

- 🩹

SLEEPY DRUNK RANPO!!! YES

cw: yandere characters, intoxicated characters, non-consensual kissing.

maybe one night a large group of people from the pm decide to go drinking and of course dazai tags along. he just wants to get under your skin so badly all the time that it would be more surprising for you if he didn't come. chuuya, on the other hand, you were not expecting. the executive probably had better places to be than a seedy bar in the heart of the city. it doesn't seem like his scene but...what would you know?

as the night progressed, the two higher-ups drank an alarming amount. chuuya was the first to succumb, intoxicated and whiny. you've always known chuuya to be somewhat stern, even when he helped you out, it was accompanied by a scoff and he would stride back as swiftly as he came. so it was understandably shocking when he slumped down against your front. you were painfully stiff as he laid his head on your chest and an arm around your muddle. chuuya was half-falling off the seat and whining into your ear about how warm you were as you sat, frozen.

he raises his head and started placing sloppy kisses down your neck, pausing periodically to giggle before continuing. a clumsy hand squeezes your thigh and he starts trying to proposition you in what he might have thought was a sexy whisper, but sounded more like him slurring and mumbling to himself.

his messy attempts at kissing were quickly averted by a slight move of your head, but he doesn't give up, continously alternating between pouting, giggling and kissing. eventually, to your relief, he finally slumped over, breathing slowly as he falls asleep.

now, to drag him back...

dazai was out with everyone only because you were there, though he wouldn't admit it. him trying to outdrink chuuya was just a sad attempt at a distraction that he ended up taking too seriously, eventually becoming inebriated enough to blank out ane then start dozing off.

he snaps back awake to stare at you with wide eyes, his mouth agape as he attempts to process the scene.

"[name]? you..." and then he starts bawling his eyes out, grabbing onto you with a surprisingly strong grip.

dazai also clings on to you all the time, sobbing about how much he loves you and please don't leave he won't hurt you again! he doesn't kiss you as much as chuuya but he is surprisingly talkative (although most of it is indecipherable).

he doesn't ever let go, and you have no choice but to escort him back, knowing everyone else was terrified of the executive. hopefully he won't wake up embarrassed and decides to take it out on you.

[hyuukais]

It’s What You Do To Me

Hey there, Delilah, I know times are gettin' hard

Word Count: 692

Genre: Yeonjun x reader, angst, just a whole lot of angst, song fic (?) ig

Warnings: descriptions of loneliness and crying yourself to sleep, generally just heavier themes involved with a long-distance relationship

Author: thank you @bbanghoonie , @taecup-fics , and @fullsunfluff for beta reading because the majority of this was written in a sleep-deprived stupor

Hey there, Delilah

“Um, hey, Junie. It’s me.”

What’s it like in New York City

“You’re probably really busy right now, but I just wanted to call. Leave a little voicemail for you when you get back.”

I'm a thousand miles away, but girl, tonight, you look so pretty, yes you do

Times Square can't shine as bright as you, I swear it's true

“I saw your guys’ stage today! You looked absolutely amazing, as always. Oh, and that cool pyramid move you did! It was awesome!”

Hey there, Delilah, don't you worry about the distance

I'm right there if you get lonely, give this song another listen, close your eyes

“I’ve actually been saving up a bit so I could maybe come visit soon. Get to see you and the boys, y’know. It-it’d be really fun!”

Listen to my voice, it's my disguise

I'm by your side

“Ah…well, yeah. Call me back when you get the chance. I love you. Bye.”

Oh, it's what you do to me

Oh, it’s what you do to me

Sighing, I ended the call. I don’t know why I even tried in the first place. He’s probably asleep. God, I should’ve known. I should’ve known the moment those two words came up, those two disastrous, dreaded words. Long-distance.

We had been trying for about six months at this point since I moved away for school and his career skyrocketed. Most days went by with little-to-no contact, the majority of the time one of us was busy while the other was free. Calls were few and far between, and any type of video chat was usually out of the question. Today, for instance, my back-to-back classes and work rendered me unable to even send a voicemail until now, just past 10:00 pm for me but crawling into the early hours of the morning in Seoul.

The moon slowly slipping its way through cloudy skies, familiar loneliness settles in my heart. It comes every night, weighing me down, pinning me to the sheets. It presses against my eyes, pounds in my head, it fills every inch of my skin yet it leaves the biggest piece of me hollow. Every other limb so heavy, I can only feel the hole expanding in my chest, the venomous grip around my lungs, every tug and pluck at my heart. Solitude playing my heartstrings to the tune of my own misery. A tune of poignant nostalgia, of remembering the ghost of his touch, how it was soft and rough and everything in between, how he’d hug me tight as the moon rose and sleep settled in my bones. A tune reminiscent of the one Yeonjun would hum as we lay draped over the couch, tangled in the essence of love. Nothing but each other in mind.

These scenes once bathed in gold in my memories now plagued with the rot brought by time and distance. They said distance would make the heart grow fonder but neglected the growing pains. It’s been months since I’d seen him, held him, kissed him, and every day in between I’d been lying to him. My days were never the best. Lessons blurred together, day and night no more. I was no longer truly me, every day on autopilot stumbling through studies till I could finally get in bed. Till I could finally see him or at least hear his voice. Yeonjun was a home to me in a new place where I felt like I didn’t have one. The warmth disappeared along with his calls. I would never blame him for the cold. My brain was what brought it in absence of light. The cold that drenched me in yearning for warmth again as exhaustion took over, paralyzing the tears streaking my cheeks. Yeonjun’s only fault was making me fall this hard, only to be dragged back up in the absence of him. He drove my heart crazy. He made me laugh and smile and cry. And it’s all I'd ever wanted and hated so.

Oh, it's what you do to me

Oh, it's what you do to me

What you do to me