#it did however rain tho

[croutoncat]

Happy birthday, Joe!!!

Doing anything special?

thank you!! i ventured over to the south of the french kingdom... as a little treat

[arolesbianism]

Finally drew the messed up guy of all time <3

[userbaekhyun]

guess who realized the boyz concert was this weekend and bought tickets suddenly !!! yeah it’s expensive and my seat is superrrr far back because it’s super late in the process but i’m so excited

[amuyyi]

unfiltered y/n .

synopsis; two drabbles of y/n being the oldest of newjeans, yet arguably the most chaotic and childish. 21 year old y/n who's very gen z coded and borderline chronically online from a young age.

trope; platonic! newjeans x f!reader, just danielle + hyein bc im lazy

wc; 1.9k

cw; n/a

a/n; guys i think i fr forgot how to write erm so sorry this is dookie but i needed to write something lighthearted to keep my sanity even tho writers block is real rn thumbs up emoji ... also y/n is just me again LMFAO

Humming, your eyes glaze over the Phoning chat. You and Danielle sat comfortably within your practice room, the younger girl joining shortly after seeing you had started a livestream. There was no particular reason for this stream, you simply felt like entertaining your fans for the day. Throughout the livestream, you and Danielle simply talked, being some of the most social and extroverted members of Newjeans, it wasn’t hard for you two to popcorn different topics from one another.

“Did you ever read Warriors?”

“What, that book series about the emo cats?”

“They’re not emo– well…. Actually…”

Both you and Danielle burst into a fit of giggles as you tried to explain the lore of the Warrior Cats series, which then went into you making a powerpoint on why your company should allow you to have a cat in the dorms, which then went into a conversation about how you guys wanted to decorate your ideal home…

When you and Danielle were put into a room together, it almost seemed like you two fueled each other's energy in a never ending cycle. Still, as your laughter dies down, the pair of you decide to just chill, even for a moment. Your attention gets drawn back to the comments whilst Danielle aimlessly scrolled on her phone for a bit.

“y/n, who are your favorite kpop artists??” You read out loud.

Your eyes light up at this question. Before becoming a trainee, you were a die hard fan of many groups back when you were younger. Honestly.. You were a bit of a chronically online kid, despite your social tendencies. Back in the day, you ran a kpop stan twitter, and are well versed in the new vocabulary of online meme culture… as embarrassing as it was to admit the more you thought about it. 

After reading the comment, the mischievous and playful glint in your eye was impossible to ignore, and Dani seemed to pick up on the shift in energy. Shooting you a suspicious glance, you decide to speak up.

“Ah there are so many groups I love… But.. I’d have to say Red Velvet and LOONA...!”

It was an innocent enough answer at a glance, but to some, the underlying message behind it was glaringly obvious.

Almost immediately after speaking, in the most obvious and not discreet fashion, you freeze, arching a brow making a curious looking expression at the camera as you pucker your lips. It was undeniable that you were referencing an all too familiar meme within the LGBTQ community.

Honestly, you were never one to shy away from your sexuality. You were lucky enough to know who you were from a young age. (All of your odd childhood crushes practically spoke for themselves. Rain from the movie Spirit, for example. The horse.) 

It wasn’t long before the girls caught onto you, and they have been nothing but supportive since. Oftentimes they would tease you over your clinginess with your other members, or how you’d very publicly fawn over other female idols, while nearly all of the light drained from your eyes when approached by a man. 

In hindsight, it was a surprise that they didn’t catch on sooner. The way you acted so stiff around male idols when forced to do Tiktoks with them, or how you never entertained their advances. However, it seemed like Some fans did seem to notice faster than your own members, and deemed you “Irene's daughter” as a result— a title in which you wear with pride, might you add! 

That wasn't to say you didn't have your own hardships and struggles with your sexuality at the same time, though. Of course, being a part of one of the biggest kpop groups of your generation, you couldn’t express your sexuality publically. Not yet. It was too risky. A large chunk of your fan base consisted of straight men anyways… Potential backlash would be detrimental. You didn’t want to drag the others down with you. Not when you guys have so much ahead together.

So you keep your head low, put on your best smile, and focus on your members.

….Until moments like these, of course.

Eyes practically boggling out of her head, Danielle bursts into laughter, shoving your shoulder with one hand while she covers her face with her sweater sleeve.

“Unnie…!” she scream-whispers, baffled by your words. Of course she knew what you were hinting at, she didn’t live under a rock her whole life.

Seeing Danielles reaction only seems to egg you on though. What? You weren’t saying anything explicitly queer. Only the people that mattered would know. Worst case scenario, you’d be in some odd rumor or speculation that had no real evidence to back you up. Maybe you’d be seen as an ally. Humming once again, you pretend to think.

“Though if you want to know about male artists….” You take a significantly longer time to answer this as Danielle is left a giggling mess next to you. She seemed almost a little distressed through the laughter, but she trusted you.

“I would probably say I like EXO and Shinee the most.”

Once again, you make that damn face, and Danielle throws her head back in hysterical laughter. She grabs your shoulder and shakes you around, whispering quiet scoldings into your ear as you snicker, feigning an innocent look as the chat practically blows up.

[cha3wonz] – HELLO???? [kaheii] – y/n blow a kiss if u like women [luv__newjeans] – okay ally

Unsurprisingly, clips of your shared live with Danielle went viral. Many stan accounts on twitter began to speculate that you were queer, whilst others fully embraced it. Your favorite posts were the edits of you with the rainbow flag followed up by a question mark. It was all too good.

Honestly, you didn’t even think it was a big deal. You didn’t pay much attention to other male groups– you never did, really, but when you looked at the new incoming generation of boy group members… They practically had the whole pride parade following them. 

There were a few minor articles about you here and there, but you were mostly off the hook.

Danielle lay sprawled across your back whilst you lay on her bed, scrolling through Twitter aimlessly as she laughs at the comments on your recent instagram post.

“It seems that your fangirls can't get enough of you, lovergirl,” she teases lightheartedly as you wiggle beneath her weight, giggling.

Maybe one day you’ll share the news to your fans, and maybe one day they won’t even be surprised. But you’re glad to have what you have now. Just you, your girls, and your ever growing folder of queer y/n memes off of Twitter.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Hyein was in the middle of a solo livestream within her bedroom, lying comfortably in her bed as she showcased various articles of clothing she had bought with Hanni the day prior.

The livestream was going well, peaceful as Hyein makes her way through several t shirts, sweaters, pants, and skirts of all colors and styles.

Right when Hyein was about to reveal her favorite article of clothing from the haul, loud, almost desperate banging rings throughout the room. An almost pathetic sounding yelp of surprise erupts from the girl before she curiously glances at the livestream. 

Leaning forward, she whispers to the camera, “I think… I think there's a creep trying to break in…” 

Suddenly, the door bursts open, with a very flustered and irritated y/n tumbling in shortly after. iPad in hand, you collapse into the bed next to Hyein

“Guys, guy, GUYS. The theme was scene!!! What the hell is this?! Look at THIS versus MY outfit!” You exclaim almost a little too loudly as you shove the ipad in front of the camera. Failing to focus on your screen properly, the viewers simply saw a bright white square as you groaned.

Baffled and still a bit in shock, Hyein speaks up, “Unnie, it's really not that serio–”

“This is bullsh–” You cut yourself off as Hyein snorts loudly at your near slip up. Clearing your throat, you grip your ipad a little tighter than needed, trying to calm down.

“This is unfair. And you know what's worse? Its probably some nine year old with their friends voting for them behind the screen!” You whine out dramatically. With how upset you were getting, it wouldn't be surprising if this genuinely was the one determining factor that would either make or break your night.

Hyein couldn't bite back the amused laugh at your seriousness. 

You took your games pretty seriously. Even if it was roblox. There was something familiar and comforting about it all, really. Lighthearted games like this  played a major part in your childhood— which was, of course, abruptly cut short once you became a trainee at age 14. Now that you were an adult with a job as an idol, you could buy your own robux, buy your own gamepasses and items… and most importantly, stomp on little kids in-game. You were here first, after all.

“Unnie, aren't you like, 21 years old? Don't you think you’re a little too old to—“

“And don't you like— what, 12?!” You shoot back without even missing a beat.

A brief, yet suffocating silence passes as the both of you stare at each other, wide eyed. Never in your years of knowing the younger girl have you ever been so.. sassy to her. You were the oldest, after all. It was your job to take care of her.

Almost instantly, you drop your ipad and tackle the younger girl in a hug, crying out, “BABY HYEIN!!! IM SORRY…!!!”

Hyein on the other hand, was not as reciprocal to your attempts at apologizing. Upon being tackled, half of the air in her lungs practically got knocked out of her, and she finds herself tumbling backwards into the blankets below. Instead of accepting your obviously very real and very distressed apology, she began struggling to wriggle out of your grasp as she yelled out, “NO! LET ME GO UNNIE!! LET ME GOOO!!!”

Though the youngest towered over you by over half a foot, your grip on her was borderline deadly. Squeezing your arms tightly around her neck in an attempt at being soothing and sweet (you werent) you scream at yourself, rocking her back and forth. 

“I'm so STUPID im SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY I JUST WANTED YOU TO PLAY WITH ME.”

Incoherent screams and movement was seen from the livestream for about 5 minutes before Hyein tapped your arm, giving in.

“Fine, fine..! I forgive you unnie, just let me go…!”

The moments following Hyein’s acceptance of her fate seemed to actually go by pretty smoothly compared to the chaos that had just ensued a few minutes prior.

Laying in bed together, the two of you played dress to impress while on the live, occasionally interacting with the viewers, but mostly focusing on winning the game. A comfortable silence passes, the only sound being nails against iPad screens.

The pair of you would proudly showcase your creations to the camera, and shared mutual frustration when neither of you would even place despite the immense efforts you put into your outfits.

“I swear to god Hyein, I’m gonna buy both of us VIP and we’re gonna leave these girls in the dust…”

As you prepare to go up for your final round of the night, Hyein suddenly perks up.

“Oh look, unnie! This outfit is actually pretty good…”

“Huh? Oh!! You're right! This is super pretty…”

“…”

“…”

“Two stars?”

“Two stars.”

[iz-star]

Zayne: Hidden Motive - The hidden meaning behind these two images and other thoughts about this card.

Warnings: NSFW talk, personal interpretation about this card, some analysis (probably overanalyzing lol).

I've already mentioned this quickly over twitter, tho I have to admit that I hate to write down my thoughts over there cause it's already difficult for me to put my ideas in order, let alone writing them in threads (and not even in my native language, my brain can't do so much). So I'm going to try to explain this here better, especially cause I've seen a lot of people not so sure of what happened in this card, if what Zayne and MC did was straight up dry humping or if it was all just the movement of the chair without actually touching each other.

Of course, this card was wild just for the already suggestive (let alone, stimulating?) work of the camera when MC is on top of Zayne, but this game is not even rated +18 so they have to be careful about what they show. Sex isn't anything new to this game, however it all depends on the way it is portrayed and showcased. Most of the times, sex is always implied; there are spicy moments but it has never been anything overly explicit, most cases the sexy scenes are more like foreplay, what leads to actual intercourse/sex, the last part being left to the imagination. If they were going to be wild with this card, they had to be soft at portraying it, unironically. In order to do that, they had to resort to certain storytelling resources, in this case: the rocking chair, the leaf and the fabric over the couch.

The rocking chair's purpose I think it's quite obvious and it was to not to blatantly show MC and Zayne rocking against each other, it was like the perfect excuse to put them on such a situation without the characters doing it willingly, or so so cause it's already too much to know that MC is sitting on top of Zayne, however this is not new to the game, right? MC sitting on top of Zayne's lap is actually quite normal, she's done it several times; here they just had to give them an excuse to move and when Zayne pulled MC towars him, everything started. I seriously praise the masterminds behind this scene cause they literally gave us Zayne and MC starting to dry hump in front of our very eyes in a very subtle way.

Again, the camera direction is the most risky thing they had done to showcase a sexual act so far, and I'm not mentioning this to downplay any other sexy scenes from Zayne or the other LIs, it's simply bc the bouncing movement it's too explicit and induces quite strong sexual ideas related to it, to go further seemed to be impossible at this point, however it also looked like they wanted us to be sure of what was happening here somehow, that it wasn't only the rocking chair making us seeing things, so in order to confirm what our minds were thinking and it wasn't only the sound of Zayne's kisses filling the room, they resorted to metaphors: the leaf and the fabric over the couch.

Maybe this is my dirty mind speaking, but is so suggestive the way this image was showed right after Zayne asked MC "Do I look like I can work right now?" with all the movement of the camera going wild and he resuming to kiss/suck MC's neck. It literally started to rain in this very moment, and the drop running down the leaf seems to be a metaphor of MC's arousal. Yes, she was getting wet down there. For this one, I think that the reference is quite easy to understand and there's no need to explain more, except to say that I actually loved the subtle yet beautiful/elegant way to refer to her arousal.

But what about the fabric over the couch?

If the image of the leaf was a reference to MC, then this one is a reference of Zayne's own arousal. What this image has is a disheveled fabric that's hanging from the edge of the couch, so there's two things:

The couch → Zayne's thighs/legs (isn't it a common joke within the fandom that Zayne is MC's favorite chair due to all the times she sits on his lap, anyway?)

The fabric → Zayne's robe.

Did you notice that among the four LIs, it was Zayne's robe the only one with the loosest tie and both sides of his robe do not even cross? like this thing it's barely keeping together somehow.

Which is genuinely surprising coming from Zayne, the Zayne whose towel outfit has the safest tie, the Zayne whose workout outfit covers his body from head to toe, the same Zayne who has dressed five (or was it six?) layers of clothes in the past (Master of Fate), the same Zayne who is always wearing long coats and suits and literally the one who makes us feel like victorian man seeing a woman's ankles for the first time lol.

I definitely think they did this on purpose. Give him easier access? Hell yeah. What this image is intending to say is that he was already opening his robe down there, making the contact with MC's wetness closer? Maybe that's why after this, she told him not to be too intense? Hmm...

Now, this probably is my overanalysis, it's up to you if you choose to believe this or not. For some people, media is about what is explicitly told, but narrative resources say a lot most part of the time, it helps the writers to give the readers hints about certain foreshadowing or, in this case, to reference to certain things that are impossible to address due to censorship.

Personally, I loved this card so much, but at the same time, it leaves me with a sense of dread. Did you notice how emotional, bittersweet or even sad/nostalgic was Zayne's bgm during his kindle? I saw some people uploaded the recording of his kindle without the bgm just to appreciate the naughty sounds (no blame here cause I did too ngl ahaha), but it made me want to listen to the music alone and good lord, the music made me so emotional. After watching the kindle with the music on again, I realized of how emotional this moment becomes when the bgm is playing. It gives vibes of something so intense yet so fragile. Go listen and appreciate it alone, you'll see what I'm talking about:

I noticed that they used two new songs for these cards, one was this one and the other was used in Rafayel's kindle, for Xavier and Sylus' kindles, they used bgm that was previously used in other memories. It's also interesting that the art direction of Zayne and Rafayel's kindles has a bit of a somber mood to them, like even their scenarios make sure to use cold colors and emotional backgrounds, while Xavier and Sylus' use more warm and romantic colors, (tho at least Xaviers bgm music was also intense even if the song is not new).

I feel like the bgm wanted to give a sensual yet emotional feeling to most scenes (except Sylus' since this one was the most chill, which is normal considering that he's new), however, we can't deny that Zayne's song feels like something is about to break somehow, idk how to explain. Someone in the comments section of the video said that it was angsty and beautiful just like Zayne is...

I've been feeling like Zayne's latest cards have been really emotional an intense. In Snowy Serenity is Zayne the one who is in danger, in Hidden Motive, it's MC the one in danger and both cards showcase how far are they willing to get in order to secure each other's safety (and also how much they lie to each other about their own safety lol).

In Snowy Serenity, Zayne and MC get emotionally closer, in Hidden Motive they get physically closer and yet both cards have a bit of both themes too, emotional and physical intimacy on another level.

In Snowy Serenity, Zayne knew that he might not be back so he asked MC to see him off the airport and gave her a hug, even if he never said goodbye, and in Hidden Motive, he tells her that she's not allowed to leave him without saying goodbye. Then he tells her he'll like her as long as she's alive and well. We also have the Adventure above the clouds chapters where they talk about ther lifes in 50 years in the future and how they'll be together still relying on each other. In Dawnbreaker's anecdotes, MC gets to celebrate Zayne's birthday with him and tells him that from now on, she'll always celebrate his birthday with him.

It feels like they're starting to look into the future a little too much, like making promises too soon, it feels too perfect... as if something bad is about to happen and rob us from that bright future, you know?

Do you know who made promises before a tragedy?

I've been thinking about this since I finished Hidden Motive cause... my first thought was... Now what can top this? A lot of us got really surprised by Zayne's card cause the spice was unexpected and I think it's needless to say this, but even the kindle felt a bit different from what we are used to see normally, even some ppl said the kindle was a bit longer than normal. Why would they feed us so much good/emotional/intense content of Zayne lately? And how are they going to keep it up? My brain tells me that something sexual being released too soon after this might feel repetitive so in order to create a bigger impact after this they'll resort to angst. I don't think they'll make Zayne's bday event sad, however, they also announced that more main story branches are going to be added from September to December and Zayne's probably gonna be the first to return, since he was the first one to disappear from the main story.

I just can't help thinking about this, I have this bad feeling that I hope is just my stupid brain overthinking and that we will have happy sweet memories with Zayne from now on even tho the story seems to keep hinting that something bad is going to happen, ugh.

Anyway, sorry for my rant, I actually have a lot of thoughts about this card that I don't know if I'll get to write cause I've been really busy with work lately, however I wanted to at least get this out of my chest.

[chrisdr3]

Anger, gone ~ MV1

Angst then smut

Summary: Max finds a better way to to calm his anger than the previous one, and it's focused on Y/n.

Angry!Max x Reader

Max was known for his dominance in F1, and his non-stop wins were angering many fans of the sport. He was called "Mad Max" because of his viciousness on the track, like the lion on top of his helmet. But, there was another thing that was making him vicious and unstoppable: his anger.

He was calm and collected in his everyday life, but when he was getting in his car, he let his anger lead his actions sometimes. In his earlier years in F1 it was worse. However, now, having 3 WDC's in his back for 3 consecutive years, he has matured enough to not get angry easily, but when he did, he was furious, feared sometimes, and no one could calm him down.

Except from you. It was like you were magic. You took his anger away even if you did the least thing possible. Your favourite way of calming him down was to step on the shower with him and then go to bed cuddling, seeking eachothers warmth under the covers.

There were some incredibly rare cases that it didn't work. Sometimes he was ignoring you, sitting alone outside with a bottle of whiskey, not giving a fuck if it was raining or cold. He was spending these nights like this and was joining you early in the morning in bed, smelling like alcohol.

The Australian GP was one of these rare times. Having to retire in lap 5 due to his brakes catching fire, it made him furious with everyone in the team. Christian and GP tried to calm him down but failed, persuading him to stay and watch the rest of the race . You didn't talk to him throughout the rest of the race, afraid he'll snap at you.

Meanwhile, Max was angry at the team for the brakes failing him, angry he couldn't continue in the race, and a bit disappointed with himself, seeing you sit away from him, clearly sad and afraid of his outbursts. When the race ended, he took the stuff of you both from his driver's room, grabbed your hand and left, taking you with him.

The car ride to the hotel was quick, the tension being nearly touchable in the air. Nax had his hand in the inside of your thigh, gripping it tightly whilst speeding to your hotel. Neither of you spoke, his anger getting the best of him, and you, watching out the window, too stunned to speak.

You got in the hotel and you sat in the bed, opening your phone and scrolling through Instagram, supposing he would shower, grab a bottle of whiskey and go outside. That's what you thought, tho, seeing him go to the bathroom, not saying a word.

You were really distracted by your phone and didn't notice him getting out, untill a hand took your phone and left it to the coffee table and pushed you back in the bed, pulling your shorts down. He held your hands above your head and took off your crop top. "You're gonna be a good girl and let me get my anger away, understood?" He growled in your ear. "Y-yes..." You stuttered as he unhooked and took of your bra with one hand. (Credit to @ashmakopoulou for the bra thingy)

He let the towel in his waist fall down as he squeezed and kissed your nipples, leaving dark hickeys and bite marks on them. You let out a breathy moan and he bit your nipple. "Shut your pretty mouth, babygirl." You didn't make any more sounds and let him continue. He continued kissing your body, whilst holding your hands still above your head. He kissed your torso, stomach and waist and then he took off yor panties, practically ripping them in half.

You squirmed as the cold air hit your throbbing cunt and tried to hold back a moan when Max pressed one finger on your clit. "I'm gonna ruin this little pussy tonight." He growled. The next moment his finger entered your hole and he started moving it fast and hard. You tried muffling your moans, but the pressure on your clit and his fingers thrusting in you combined made you come on his hand with a loud groan.

He licked his fingers clean with a groan and continued teasing you, this time using the tip of his dick. It was rock hard and standing straight, veins being visible on it's sides. He was running it up and down your slit, collecting your wetness. A loud moan escaped your lips as he pushed in hard without any warnings. He then tied your wrists to the headboard with a belt, using his free hand to grab your waist. He thrusted in really hard, making you hiss at the painful feeling.

He stayed still for a bit, biting your stomach gently and then, after he was sure you were okay, he continued thrusting fast and hard, hitting your g-spot mercilessly, his pace bruising. You were rapidly becoming a sweaty, moaning mess when his fingers reached your clit and started toying with it.

His hard thrusts and his fingers on your clit combined made you come undone again. He didn't pull back or take his dick out, thrusting harder instead, making you reach your third climax for the night.

He then pulled out and came on your stomach, then laid down between your legs, making it seem like he's done. You were laying down in a post-orgasmic state, your body relaxing from the tiredness and tension, your breathing and heartbeat calming down.

You had completely calmed down when you felt Max's tongue in your pussy, licking you up and down. You raised your head as much as you could and saw Max's face buried in-between your lehs, licking you.

"Such a sweet pussy, babygirl." Max growled, groaning at your sweetness. Then he lowered his head and continued to eat you out. You were becoming needier and needier as he teased you with his tongue, and you tried pulling your hands out of the belt, hoping you could free them from the headboard. You wanted to push Max's head in your pussy with your hands, but when he noticed he made the belt tighter.

He then started eating your pussy and sucking on your clit like he was a starved man eating food after weeks, overwhelming you with pleasure and slowly building up another orgasm. You squirmed when you felt his fingers get inside you, rubbing your g-spot.

Your breath became faster and heavier. You started to moan and groan uncontrollably, so Max muffled you with his free hand, still fingering you brutally. Soon, the familiar knot formed on your stomach and you came undone, filling his face and hand with your juices.

Max then licked his fingers, got to the bathroom to clean himself and came back with a warm cloth. He released your hands and kissed your bruised wrists. "You were so good for me princess, thank you." He whispered, cleaning you up entirely and then hugging your exhausted body. You both fell asleep naked, cuddling, his anger completely gone.

Taglist: @norizz-nation @changetyre @dilemmaontwolegs @thef1diary

[hongcherry]

stuck with you || c.sc (m)

Your road trip takes a turn for the worst and leaves you stranded during a winter storm. It's not long until the car gets chilly, but luckily for you, your boyfriend has an idea to keep you both warm.

❄️ Pairing: boyfriend!Seungcheol x Reader (afab)

❄️ Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Smut, fluff; Established relationship

❄️ Warnings: Pet names (baby, baby girl, princess, angel), unprotective sex (dont be like them), fingering, breast play, creampie, dirty talk, car sex so technically exhibitionism, reader is slightly inexperienced/shy (not a virgin tho)

❄️ Word Count: 3.7k

❄️ Project: @k-vanity's event. Prompt is "snow day/snowed in".

❄️ Author's Note: Honestly, I'm not sure about this one aha. This was meant to be posted last holidays, but I never got it finished in time. Now, I rushed it to meet this deadline sdfk;bjfdlsk. So... Please be kind 🥲

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

Your idea of a mini road trip was going well. You were sharing memories with your sweet boyfriend, who you had dragged with you, filled with laughs and a few forced smiles. Sure, Seungcheol was grumbling fifty percent of the time, but the other fifty percent was genuine happiness… Well, he slept for fifteen percent so that other fifty wasn’t accurate. Nevertheless, you weren’t going to let his party-pooping butt rain on your parade.

However, what did ruin your parade known as a road trip was when your car started to break down in the middle of a snowy night. Unsurprisingly, Seungcheol let a few expletives slip from his pout. His hand was wavering in different directions as he lectured the car for being “a complete waste of a fucking car.” You would have found it amusing if it weren’t for the fact you were about to be stranded in a deserted area.

“Hurry and call for a pickup before either of our phones dies,” Seungcheol instructs as the car begins to slow to a stop.

You oblige quickly, looking up a local towing company and giving them a call. Unfortunately, it’s going to take a couple of hours to arrive due to the bad weather. Seungcheol curses once more before locking the already-locked doors, yanking out the keys, and tossing them onto the dashboard.

“We should have stayed at the hotel one more night like I said,” he huffs with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring out into nothing. Both of you are sitting in the dark as you let the situation sink in. Guilt is forming in your chest.

“I just wanted to get to the next city by the morning so we could see the festival,” you mumble. Seungcheol knows this already, but you feel it necessary to explain again. You didn’t anticipate or wish for this to happen.

Hearing your dejected voice, Seungcheol’s body relaxes as he turns to look at you. “I know, baby,” he sighs.

“Let’s move to the back so that we can be more comfortable,” he suggests. You’re about to open the door when he stops you suddenly. “Climb in from here. We don’t want the cold air in.”

“Oh, right,” you say sheepishly. It’s warm now since the heater was on before the car shut off.

Carefully, you squeeze through the seats to sit in the back. Once you’re seated, Seungcheol follows suit. He reaches back into the trunk and digs out the blanket you had packed.

He pulls you into his lap, wrapping the blanket around you. You tuck the ends of it behind Seungcheol so he can hold it in place with his back.

“I’m sorry I made you feel bad,” he speaks softly with a deep exhale.

You shake your head. “You didn’t—”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he chuckles and rubs his hands up and down your clothed thighs. “I’m just tired and grumpy.”

“Hm,” you hum and give him a small smile. “You are tired and grumpy.”

“Tired and grumpy Seungcheol is sorry,” he says, lips pursing in a tiny pout and voice slightly higher.

Giggling, you hit his chest playfully. “You’re forgiven.”

“Good. I hate when my baby’s mad at me.”

“I wasn’t,” you reply. “Now, go to sleep, Cheollie,” you smile.

Seungcheol nods, bringing you down for a quick kiss before he wraps his arms around your body. You lean forward to lay against him. With the warm air, blanket, and his heated body, you’re feeling hot; however, you know the temperature is going to drop soon.

As expected, the car grows chilly within thirty minutes.

You wake from your slumber with a shiver. Seungcheol’s head is leaned against the headrest, breathing evenly as he sleeps. You reach up and softly graze his cheek. It’s cold under your touch. Frowning, you cup his face to heat his skin. He stirs for a second and then flutters his eyes open.

“Are they here?” he questions, referring to the towing people.

Shaking your head you say, “No, you were just cold.”

“I’m okay,” he replies even though his body shivers as soon as the words come out. “You’re cold?”

“A little,” you confess. You let your hands leave his cheeks and land on his shoulders gently.

Seungcheol’s eyes roam your face, taking in the occasional shakes of your body from the low temperature.

“I have an idea,” he replies belatedly.

“For?”

“To make you less cold.”

“Oh?”

You stare at him in confusion. You figure he’s going to grab the second blanket in the trunk, but instead, he grips your hips and slides your body against his crotch.

“Oh,” you gasp, face warming at the implication. “But we’re in public.”

Seungcheol shrugs. “In the middle of nowhere during a snowstorm. I doubt anyone is going to come this way.”

You hold his shoulders firmly when he rolls his hips under you. The action has him rubbing your clit briefly. You tighten your grip on him.

“The towing people,” you explain, trying not to focus on Seungcheol’s movements.

“You said they’d be here in a few hours. I don’t need a few hours to get you to cu—”

“Cheol!” you scold his language. Seungcheol just smiles. “I thought you wanted to get warm. Not… that.”

He clears his throat and stops grinding against you.

You bite your lip to suppress the whine that wants to come out. His actions had felt good, and you admit silently you were feeling warmer as your body became aroused.

“Right. I mean, I don’t need a few hours to get you warmed up,” he corrects innocently.

“I’m not sure,” you answer hesitantly. “Cuddling works too.”

You’re not too experienced—Seungcheol having been your first a few months ago—so having sex in such an exposed space feels like you’re skipping some imaginary steps.

He gives you a reassuring smile. “Then cuddles it is. Let me get the other blanket.”

Seungcheol moves to reach backwards. With his back no longer holding the blanket, it pools around the both of you. The cold air hits your body, causing you to shiver again. Even with the second blanket, you will only be warm for a little bit before the coldness consumes you again. You could say the same about what Seungcheol proposed, but at least you would have more fun.

You stare at him as he gathers both blankets and wraps them around you again.

“What?” he asks when he sees the flint in your eyes.

“M-maybe I’ve changed my mind,” you say a little nervously.

“Oh?” he wonders. “You don’t have to. I’m really okay with just cuddling.”

Your hands on his shoulders slowly slide down until they rest flat on his chest. You can feel his heart pumping quicker as the seconds tick by.

“I-I just don’t want to go to jail,” you say.

Seungcheol grins, rubbing up and down your arms to warm them. “Like I said, I don’t think anyone is going to catch us, and the snow will slow down the towing people. Plus, I’m sure Soonyoung and Seokmin will come bail us out.”

You huff at his last sentence. “Why them?”

“Because if they can’t do it the normal way, at least they can cause a big enough distraction so we can escape.”

“Babe,” you whine. You don’t like the thought of being a fugitive.

“Relax, angel,” Seungcheol chuckles. “It’ll be fine, but you don’t hav—Hmph!”

Not wanting to repeat the conversation, you lean forward as he’s talking and press your lips on his.

Seungcheol grips your arms in shock but soon eases his hold once he gets his bearings. His hands move to your waist and pull you closer until your arms fold against his chest from the close proximity.

With a surge of boldness, you wiggle your arms away and readjust to grab onto the seat behind him for leverage. He moans into the kiss when you start circling your hips against his.

“Just shut up and get me warm,” you mumble into the kiss.

Seungcheol smiles against your lips as he nods. His cold hands slip under your shirt to push your bra up. He doesn’t want to get you completely naked since it’s cold, so this will do.

You sigh softly when he gropes your breasts, massaging them gently. The contact heats your body blissfully.

He pulls away from the kiss to look at you. “Feeling better already?”

“A little,” you reply meekly.

Seungcheol gives one last squeeze to your breasts before pushing your shirt up. A gasp leaves your mouth when the cold air hits your bare torso. You try to pull the material down, but he keeps a firm grip on it.

“Kinda wanna press you against the window like this,” he murmurs.

“C-Cheol!” you scold.

“What?” he asks, suppressing his wicked grin.

“People will for sure see us then! Plus,” you begin to pout more, “it’ll be cold.”

“You’ll warm up when I start fucking that pretty pussy of yours.”

Your face heats at his vulgar words. You’re not used to people speaking in such a way, but you can’t deny the way your walls tighten in anticipation.

“Think about it,” he suggests, then leans down to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples.

Your lips part at the sudden difference in temperature on your chest. Seungcheol’s warm mouth feels so good.

Your hands move to play with his hair, fingers tugging on the strands occasionally.

Seungcheol pulls you closer to him as his eyes flutter close. He’s licking and sucking your nipple like it’s his favorite way to pass time. The sight itself makes you moan.

You can feel Seungcheol’s bulge press against your core, which makes your arousal pool in your underwear more. Hesitantly, you start grinding your hips against him. Though when Seungcheol hums against your chest and pulls away with a soft pop, you stop moving. Your hands fall away from his hair to land on his shoulders.

“Don’t be shy, baby. Make yourself feel good,” he reassures, giving your lips a quick kiss for encouragement.

“I-Is this right?” you question, moving your hips again albeit a bit slower.

He grins. “Whatever makes you feel good is right. Do you feel good right now?”

“I—kinda.”

“Kinda? Is there something else you want?” he asks, carefully pulling your shirt down and cupping your face.

Your eyes dart away from his brown ones. It seems you used all your bold moves earlier.

Seungcheol begins to glide his thumb across your cheeks lovingly.

“Show me what you want,” he instructs gently and offers one of his hands.

You glance at it. Seungcheol has used this tactic several times in the past. It’s a way for you to take charge in your own way. It isn’t that he makes you uncomfortable, but it takes time to get used to things you’ve never experienced before.

You’re grateful Seungcheol is so understanding. Some of your exes became exes for being the opposite.

Taking his hand, you push it down until it rests against his crotch.

Seungcheol smiles. “My good girl just wants to get to the main course, hm?”

His light attitude lessens your nervousness.

“Need to feel you,” you murmur.

“I need to feel you too, baby girl,” he agrees and leans up to capture your lips.

You lax at the feeling of his plush lips, hands sliding down his arms to play with his shirt. Seungcheol eases your mouth open so he can slip his tongue inside as he grabs your wrists. He guides your hands under his shirt slowly. You feel his abs tense momentarily at the cool touch of your skin.

Once your hands are settled against his chest, he releases you. You take the opportunity to rub your hands along his torso, enjoying the feel of his strong muscles beneath your palms.

After a while, you finally pull away with a gasp.

“You give the best kisses,” Seungcheol compliments.

You grin. “I’ve gotten better?”

“You were never bad to begin with,” he chuckles. “But yes, you have improved.”

Your smile grows at his words.

“You’re so fucking cute,” he huffs as if it’s too much for him to bear.

“Now, we better hurry before help arrives,” he says and gently lays you back on the car seats.

The blankets get tangled, but Seungcheol pulls them away and leaves them on the floorboard. You supposed you don’t need them at the moment anyway.

Seungcheol nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck and starts kissing your skin. His hands grab ahold of your sweatpants and pull them down. Before you can complain about the coldness, one of his hands slither between your legs to circle your clit.

“Gotta’ prep you a bit, okay? Then I’ll give you want, angel.”

You nod and wrap your arms around his shoulders.

Seungcheol continues to pepper kisses against your neck, but you can tell his attention is elsewhere.

His fingers glide down and slip between your folds.

“I could slide in so easily right now with how wet you are,” he moans.

“T-then do it,” you say,

He shakes his head. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

Carefully, he slides one finger inside your dripping hole.

You bite your lip and remind yourself to relax.

Seungcheol stops kissing and simply rests his head against your shoulder. His eyes are closed as he pumps the single digit a few times before adding a second. You moan softly, legs spreading a little wider despite the small space.

“Doing okay?” he asks after a while.

“Yes,” you reply. “More, please.”

Seungcheol nods and slips in a third finger. However, not long after, he adds a fourth. He moves them slowly, not seeing the need to speed up when he’s saving that for later.

A gasp escapes at the stretch. It feels good, but each pump of his fingers makes you eager for his cock.

“Cheol,” you beg.

“Okay,” he says and removes his fingers. He brings them to his mouth and licks up your arousal. The lewd sight makes you want to look away, but you’re also mesmerized by how satisfied Seungcheol looks.

“When we get to the hotel, I’m going to eat you out for hours. You taste so fucking good,” he groans, then pushes his sweatpants down.

You turn your head and bite your lip. Seungcheol laughs and leans over you, arms caging you in.

“That a yes, princess?”

You peep at him and nod. “Yes.”

“That a girl,” he praises and pecks your lips.

“Just tell me if it hurts, okay?” he asks while aligning his tip to your entrance.

You nod, used to him saying that, but you know he means it.

Seungcheol waits for a second before easing inside. He slides in smoothly from how soaked you are. A small mewl comes from you. Although he prepped you, he’s still big and stretches you more than his fingers did.

As usual, the first few seconds are… indescribable. It doesn’t hurt as much, but you still need to get used to his size. The stretch is a mix of pleasure and pain—though the pleasure is more prominent.

“Oh, fuck,” Seungcheol curses while pushing more of his length inside.

“Feels good, Cheol,” you moan when he presses himself fully against you.

Seungcheol eyes flicker from where you’re connected to your eyes.

“Tell me when,” he instructs and rests his forehead on yours.

A minute ticks by until you tell him he can move. Seungcheol doesn’t waste another second and starts slowly gliding in and out of you. The sensation causes you to fill the car with your whimpers.

The coldness in the car seems to fade away with each thrust. The windows are fogging up and it’s getting a little stuffy; however, your focus is solely on Seungcheol’s cock rubbing against your walls heavenly.

His pace eventually increases as you relax more. He continues for some time until a certain sharp snap of his hips has you crying out.

“Shit, I—” Seungcheol begins to apologize.

“Again, Cheol. Please. Again.”

“A-are you sure? Did I hurt you?” he questions.

“No,” you beg with a cry. “Need that again.”

“Fuck, okay, baby,” he rasps.

Seungcheol pulls out most of the way then slams his hips forward. You gasp his name and clench around him. It’s a sight he wants to capture in his mind forever.

The heat in the car has increased and sweat beads are forming on both of your bodies.

You tug off your shirt and bra to get some air.

Seungcheol moans at the sight of your exposed breasts and moves a hand to grip one. He massages it in his hand and continues to snap his hips. He feels like he’s losing his mind slowly at how good you feel wrapped around him, but he wants to try something different.

“Come here, angel,” he huffs and pulls out.

Your lips dip down as you whine at the emptiness. Seungcheol coos at you, adjusting positions so he’s sat with you above him. He discarded both of your sweatpants fully in the process. He then guides his hard cock between your legs and slowly eases you down.

You moan loudly as your pussy gets filled once more. Your hands clutch his shoulders for stability and try not to get nervous at the new position. It’s not often you’re on top.

Sensing your worry, Seungcheol gives you a reassuring massage on your hips.

“I’ll guide you, okay?”

You nod.

Seungcheol smiles, lifting you until his tip remains then pushing you back down carefully.

Your eyes drift from his face to where you both connect. Seeing how his cock disappears makes you clench around him. The sight is arousing, and a sense of pride fills your chest seeing how much easier you can take him now.

Without realizing it, your hips begin to move. You start with the pace Seungcheol has set but gradually move faster. You become addicted to the feel of his cock against your walls and need to feel it more.

It’s not until your thighs start to burn that you slow in realization.

“Don’t slow down,” Seungcheol groans, eyes hooded as he rests his head back on the seat. “Fucking me so good, baby. I knew you could do it.”

“A-are you close?” you question, a little shy.

He hums while nodding.

“Keep moving,” he says, guiding your hips up and down. Seeing how fucked out he is spurs your movements to quicken. Eventually, Seungcheol’s hands relax on your body while he watches you bounce on his cock.

“Fuck,” he curses lowly, eyes taking in your body above his. Your tits look so good and your pussy feels so tight.

Unable to stop himself, he grips your hips firmly and starts thrusting upwards.

You gasp, mouth hanging open as he chases his high. The sound of skin slapping skin feels loud in your ears, but part of you loves it. You love hearing and feeling how fast he’s sliding his cock in you. You love knowing you’re making him feel so good.

Seungcheol slams into your once more, a guttural groan escaping his mouth as his cum fills your insides. He gives you a few more shallow thrusts before he stills completely. His breathing is labored, and his eyes are shut as he floats back down.

You try not to move, but your orgasm is near, and you need a release.

Seungcheol’s eyes peel open after a few more seconds.

“You need help, angel?” he asks when he sees you trying not to squirm.

You pull your lower lip between your teeth and nod.

Seungcheol plants a kiss on your forehead, then adjusts your bodies. He leans against one of the doors while sitting you between his legs, back to his chest. He hooks one of your legs over his to spread you open. You’re so focused on Seungcheol that it doesn’t cross your mind how exposing the position is from the opposing window’s view.

Seungcheol runs his hands down your body, briefly squeezing your breasts before he slides them between your legs. He circles your clit with one hand and uses the other to slide into your dripping hole. He pumps his fingers a few times before pulling out to look at his hand.

His digits are covered with a mix of your arousal and his cum. The sight makes you squeeze your legs and for Seungcheol to moan deeply behind you.

“So messy just for me,” he murmurs, then plunges his fingers back into your cunt.

He moves both his hands quickly, bringing forth your impending orgasm.

“Play with your tits, baby,” Seungcheol rasps. “Don’t forget to make yourself feel good.”

You adhere to his request and bring your hands to squeeze your breasts. Your head falls back against his chest, moans spilling out of you nonstop as you pinch and fondle yourself while Seungcheol continues to circle and pump his fingers.

Seungcheol’s name falls from your mouth incoherently as you climax, your body slightly jerking in his hold as pleasure washes over your body.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he praises in your ear. His fingers still move quickly until he feels you start to relax.

Seungcheol angles your face so he can kiss you. He holds you close, one hand pressing against your tummy while the other keeps your head in place. The kiss is sloppy, but neither of you care.

“You still cold?” he teases after he pulls away.

“No,” you mumble, hiding your face from him.

He laughs and leans down to grab your clothes. “If you are, we can go another round.”

“M-maybe we should wait. The towing people should be here soon,” you say.

Seungcheol nudges you and mumbles, “Arms.”

You comply, lifting your arms slightly so he can put on your clothes. He kisses your shoulder blade after he’s done. You both slide on your sweatpants again, then cuddle once more.

About fifteen minutes pass when bright lights shine nearby.

The worker eyes you both—taking in the fogged windows and disheveled clothing. It doesn’t take a genius to put the pieces together. Nevertheless, they say nothing and get started with trying to fix the vehicle.

Maybe the road trip didn’t go as planned, and maybe you’ll miss the festival, but at least you had some fun nonetheless.

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

taglist (tbh i forgot abt this but i will start doing it now! sorry!): @cheolcherries, @oncloudvii23, @mystikhal-blog, @lithelust, @doom-fics

[slowcatsworld]

Noel Noa - sfw character alphabet

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I tried my best but I don’t think I understand his character as well as I want to so some of this might be a touch ooc. Bro looks so good in the master striker color spread tho oml. Also I wrote so many freaking words my head hurts so not proofreading in any way. Have fun dawg

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A • Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Noel is affectionate, in his own way. He’s more of a provider and silent strong type than someone who would skip through the streets if a raining city with you like life were a rom com.

Noel’s affection shows by his consideration for you. He is prone to offering you something to drink, he brought an extra bottle of water with him because he knew you wouldn’t have one with you when y’all met up. He always can recall reminding you to bring the right attire when you go out in preparation for the weather, so for when you don’t take his warnings he can calmly explain how he tried to tell you and how you should be more thoughtful of the future. Noel is also an avid listener when you are talking about something, making direct eye contact and asking questions relating to the topic.

Noel’s very a very controlled individual, so his gestures of affection typically reflect that. Instead of running up to you and bringing you into a tight hug, Noel would walk to where you were standing and greet you with a call of your name while beginning to walk with you to your next destination. If you look closely you can see his ears are dashed with cherry red, and he’s been staring at you the whole time.

B • Babies (How do they react when they see babies and infants in public? Do they want kids of their own?)

I would wager that Noel would be rather indifferent to a smaller child he sees out in public. He might glance at the kid and note their hand that if fiercely balled into a fist around their mother’s dress, or that the father has a harness attached to his chest for the child to sleep there if they so choose.

The sight doesn’t cause any profound emotional changes to Noel, but his body does feel a tad heavier than it did a second ago. His mind might feel a little more clouded, noise beginning to creep around. However, these feelings don’t swell much more than that. Noel won’t allow it. There is no reason for the sight to affect him, right? Noel has made himself the man he is today, on his own- he must stay true to his own past and how he made more of himself.

I don’t think Noel would be opposed to kids, but he is very loyal to his career. He is at the height of his performance, the best striker in the world. A kid would complicate things, even if he wouldn’t need to take that much time off for them. A child shouldn’t grow up in an environment where his father is in another country with a rigorous job schedule. His child shouldn’t need to have that barrier between the two of them, a tension that they might not understand now, but will later in life. Noel wouldn’t want something like that. He would want to be present, to be everything he should have had as a kid.

Perhaps later in life, if there was enough time. However, if his lover did fall pregnant, Noel doesn’t really strike me as the type to advocate for an abortion. It might be the most logical choice, but the air gets tighter around his throat when he thinks about it. It would be his lovers decision at the end, and he would end up quietly wishing for her to keep the kid. To give him a chance. As the best striker in the world, Noel might be able to multitask.

C • Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle?)

Noel took a while, but he does enjoy cuddles. They are soft and safe. You would instigate the majority of them, but he comes around to silently lay by you side and put his hand on your hip until you understand what he’s trying to do.

Noel likes to loosely cuddle before bed and wake up in a tight mess of limbs in the morning. Cuddling eases the noise he hears in his brain and often replaces it with a soft, silent haze. It makes him sleepy. And lord I would wager he needs to get some extra sleep.

Noel doesn’t mind who’s the big spoon, but he generally starts out the cuddling session as the bigger spoon until you move to change positions. He is really fond of laying his head either on the crook of your neck from behind, the space between your shoulder and neck from in front of you, or having his face resting on your chest. Being closer to your pulse and heartbeat soothe him, makes him acknowledge the fact you’re a human and he’s laying with you.

If he didn’t want to sleep, he would prefer more restrictive cuddling. Something like sitting up with your heads, arms, or legs intertwined.

D • Dreams (Do they sleep well at night? What do their dreams normally consist of?)

I wanna say Noel actually doesn’t sleep that well. He gets sleep yes, but he often wakes up at random times. He’s also a light sleeper.

His dreams don’t usually have visuals to them, he mostly feels the motions of the plot. (Yk how you can feel or sense things in your dreams so you know what’s happening even if it doesn’t look that way? Yeah that’s basically all his dreams as a blur that he can feel but can’t see) Lots of nights the feeling reminds him of the slums of France, but when he wakes up the softness of his sheets always confused him even more. He gets cold a lot of the times in his dreams.

Noel stays relatively still when he sleeps. I don’t see him being a snorer, at most he’d have those wispy snores when he inhales.

E • Elegance (Are they a smooth talker? Do they fluster up and forget how to speak?)

Surprisingly, I’m going to say that Noel is a rather good flirter. Not so much with his body language. His words are also rather plain, just skimming the lines of flirting or not so you get confused when you try to analyze what he means. He doesn’t give much away.

If you know him well enough though, you can tell. He’ll face you when speaking more, and engage in the conversation with a tad bit more banter than normal. Nothing he says ever seems flirty though, but with context you just get the vibes. (Am I making sense rn??) -If you don’t get me then think abt his interaction with Ego before the PXG vs BM match for the vibes ish and how he talks to the other Master Strikers there’s sm banter and shit talking on both sides I’m convinced he’d be a little like that but more lively if he were comfortable with a love interest

If you start off strong flirting or teasing, he doesn’t reciprocate. He might he end up annoying you, questioning whatever you said previously and debunking your taunt and how it’s not actually true or wtv. His calm and confident tone sometimes makes it a tad annoying when this happens. #canttakerizz

His manner of speech is very proper. He sounds well educated, even when he’s being causal. Very good vocabulary usage.

F • Fighting (How do fights happen between the two of you?)

I don’t think there would be loud fights and arguments with Noel. Small squabbles more like it. Normally you and him would talk it out and voice both of your perspectives. Noel would be good at keeping a level head in these situations.

If you were too fired up however, I think he’d wait until you were done yelling and tell you to breathe and think. Think about what y’all can do to fix whatever happened. He never seems to get angry or sad when you yell at him, but it’s never a pleasant situation. And you know him well enough to know he’ll be thinking about it for the next couple of days.

G • Gentle (How gentle are they with you physically and emotionally? Do they consider you in certain situations?)

Noel wouldn’t shy away from simple physical contact with you. Things like his hand on your shoulder, moving you out of the way by placing his hand on your back, your feet brushing up against each other when you sit together to eat. Nothing too much, but enough to feel you.

He tried his best to think of you and your perspective on matters. Things like buying a new fridge, he’d think about how you would like the built in freezer in fridge 1 more than fridge 2. However if fridge 2 was less expensive and there was better drawers, he’d prolly end up buying fridge 2.

H • Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do they receive hugs?)

I think Noel would learn to like hugs, especially if you were a physically affectionate person. At first he was rather stiff and didn’t allow for them to last more than a couple of seconds. Now he’s chill with it, as long as it isn’t over done like a bone crushing hug where the both of your rock from side to side. A simple loose wrap of your arms around his neck or back is good for him. In public, that is. I think he’d accept all types of hugs in private.

He doesn’t shy away from the rougher and physical side of football, and I want to say this translates into his hugs. Even though it doesn’t? Idk I’m thinking about it too much and confusing myself.

You would probably initiate hugs, he never gots hugs when he grew up so he wouldn’t think of giving you one.

I • Intimacy (How serious are they about this relationship? Do they do one night stands or are in the game for marriage?)

Does not do flings or one night stands. He needs to know you first. He needs to have some type of emotional connection to you before anything turns physical.

Most likely would date for marriage. Dating someone takes time and energy, things that could have gone toward his football career (yall he is serious asf abt his career I can smell it off him) so I think he would want an end goal out of it yk? Dating someone just to have some fun or pass the time of life doesn’t seem like Noel. Even if you didn’t want marriage, understanding that you two are the end for each other is all he wants in a serious relationship.

J • Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He doesn’t seem to be someone that would get jealous to me. Noel is such a confident person in his abilities. However, I do think he would be vulnerable to insecurity. Not in your relationship per se, but of what other people could offer you that he couldn’t.

He wouldn’t suspect you of cheating or being unfaithful, but seeing well bred men born into their society standing interacting with you isn’t a comfortable sight for him. He knows you are coming home with him at the end of the day, this soothes the noise.

He might voice these to you, when you two are alone in the privacy of your home.

Perhaps you are making dinner, Noel working through some plays on his computer, he mentions a little, “the man representing the football club we met today, did you like his suit?”

You turn your head around to see him staring at you already, “I don’t recall his suit looking any different than all the other men’s suits I’ve seen before. It was standard, I guess I liked it?”

“It was a part of an old vintage collection, did you know he also owns a fashion brand that has been in his family for generations?”

You purse your lips, “I don’t understand the significance Noel. If anything I liked the one you wore more. It was probably softer anyway if he was wearing something ancient.” You go back to cooking. Noel feels his face and neck heat up. That was all he needed to hear, mumbling a little okay, yn before going back to analyzing.

K • Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His go to is chaste kisses to your forehead. Your hand if the context of the situation calls for it and matches the elegance vibes. Small pecks out in public. He’s prefer to not really kiss in public, he’d never tell you I don’t think but it flusters him too much and he gets to hot under his jacket.

When the two of you get more intimate for the night, Noel doesn’t want to part his lips from you. It gets sloppy, more rough than usual. Something only the two of you can experience with each other. Lip locking with some fingernails grazing along his scalp or muscles is the easiest way to physically get him yearning for you.

Noel likes the soft kisses you give him in the morning when he sleeps in. The way he can feel your lips through his eyebrow wisps or on his pointed nose. It’s alluring touched of heaven to him, something he wants private for himself.

L • Love Languages (What are their love languages?)

Acts of Service and Quality Time.

Noel just does things for you, makes life a little easier with gestures. I alluded to this in the Affection portion. Making sure you have your necessities in any situation is something that Noel just does. Maybe because of his backstory idk.

Noel is surprisingly a rather talkative guy. If he wants to say something, he’ll say it. Especially if he knows you. He doesn’t go out of his way to be brash, but if it applies to the situation he’s probably saying it. He enjoys talking to you about things. Moments where there is a lull in the day for the two of you, where you can talk freely about whatever you want. He likes those.

Physical Touch and Words of Affirmation are next I would think. I’ve said before I believe he finds comfort in physical touch with his lover, and he’s a quiet supporter that can still say what you need to hear while staying true to his own philosophy.

For Gift Giving, I just don’t think he puts that much emphasis or importance to it. Tangible items were never permanent in his early life, so they aren’t his preferred way of expressing himself to others.

M • Memory (what is their favourite memory with you?)

Grr I don’t know. Maybe he doesn’t know either.

Kidding, maybe something gentle. Like you two go to your favorite restaurant for a date. Your smile radiated heat through his body. You glimmer in the warm light of the lamps and candles beautifully. Your hand reaches over the table to where his is resting. Intertwined, you stroke your thumb over the skin of the bad of his hand. It’s comforting, makes everything go quieter and you feel louder. He asks you to repeat what you just said. Maybe he didn’t hear you that well the second time either, but he feels you all too well that it works out. (Idk I don’t like this but it’s wtv)

N • Night (What time do they go to bed at night? How easily do they fall asleep? What do they wear to bed?)

I think Noel values his sleep and tries to go to bed as early as he can. Even though he does, he still ends up tired a lot of times throughout the day.

Noel would want to be comfortable when he sleeps, generally wearing a t shirt and pants. If it’s a little too cold he throws on a hoodie. He isn’t fond of waking up in a cold sweat though, which has happened to him a number of times,

O • Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Noel is rather guarded, but he also doesn’t hide certain things about himself. We’ve seen him open up about his connection to Ego to Isagi, a kid he’s only known for a couple weeks.

Once he gets comfortable and your relationship is at that stage, he’d tell you a little bit about himself and his interests. His upbringing though, is a tad different. He doesn’t like thinking of it that much. It in dignifies him in a way. Especially the rougher times, the one that manifest into his dreams. I’m not sure he would ever really tell you everything, unless you have been together for a very, very long time.

P • Patience (How easily angered are they? How slow did y’all take your relationship?)

Noel is patient. Even when someone annoys him or angers him, he is never loud and violent with it. He knows how to be firm and unwavering. He also knows how not to be overbearing and cruel.

Your relationship would be slow and steady. Things happen in time. If he is serious, there is no need to rush something that will stay with the two of you for the rest of your lives.

Q • Quirks (What are little things they do that only those closest to them would know about?)

Noel cloud watches. He thinks of all the different things he can imagine from the blobs of fluffy white in the sky. All the different possibilities that all seem so far away.

Noel’s eyebrows are already thin and wispy, and their pale color doesn’t help them stand out. But when he takes his eyeliner off, it’s as though he shaved his eyebrows. The contrast from black to white made them more prominent if that makes sense.

Noel is ambidextrous with his legs, but he has a hard time writing with his left hand. He didn’t know of his ambidextrous nature until a little late into his teenage years, every time he would practice writing he always did it with his right hand as that what most people did around him. He can write legibly with both hands, but his right hand is much more defined.

R • Resentment (Who or what do they hate? Why?)

I think Noel would hate being a nobody. That’s who he was in the slums of France. He made himself into the best football striker in the world. He always says that second place and below aren’t remembered and don’t have the same worth as first place. As the truest of victories. He wants to leave his mark on the world. Second place and below don’t make marks on the world.

I don’t really think he needs strangers to love him, or know him personally, but he needs their attention. He needs their respect. He needs to belong with the best and be the best of the best. He earned it and he defends his title vigorously.

S • Scared (What are some fears they have?)

Bro what if he was scared of the dark? Or at least doesn’t like being in total darkness? 

I think realistically Noel would have some fear of being poor, not having enough financial resources to provide. Provide food, water, clothing.

T • Tough (What do they think makes them tough?)

Noel’s tenacity makes him tough. His hunger to be the best. The drive he has inside of him. Even on the days where his body is sore and his movements are slower than they should be and the noise gets too loud in his mind, his motivation burns that much brighter. The break the next challenge, to do something damn good with himself.

U • Unity (How well do they work with others?)

Honestly, Noel isn’t the biggest team player. He does work with people, but it’s literally canon if he wasn’t leading he would follow the person with the most solid rationality and the highest possibility of success, right. He still does work with others though, but he called efficiency over comfort a lot of the time.

V • Valuables (Do they think objects are valuable? Companionship? Words? What do they hold close to their heart?)

Actions hold the most importance to Noel. If you say you’re going to do xyz, Noel would expect you to do xyz. Proving your credibility by matching your actions to your morals and words is important to him.

Noel likes words. Being able to articulate your thoughts and wants. That is something he thinks every adult should be able to do without trouble, no matter the context of the conversation or situation.

Objects don’t hold as much significance. He’ll value something he has been gifted and set it somewhere in his home, but it just sits there. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate it.

W • Wildcard

Sometimes when Noel wears slides he won’t pick his feet up enough and kick just a tad too hard and bam! His slide is flying across the room a couple feet ahead of him. It stuns him for a second, not believing he did that.

Noel worked hard in academics when given the chance. He likes being educated.

(idk)

X • X-Ray (What do they look like without clothing? What is their body type? How much muscle do they have?)

Noel is a sturdy and firm guy.

He doesn’t have abs, he has a healthy layer of chub on top of them. Think Chris Pratt, but not when he was shredded for Guardians of the Galaxy but like the second or third Guardians of the Galaxy yk. Healthy and yummy.

He has thick thighs, canon.

His arms are very comforting when they are wrapped around you.

He has that V taper body but not as drastic as say, a swimmer would have. Wider shoulders, skinnier waste. Dorito shape, but it’s only truly noticeable if you’re looking at him from the back.

Y • Yearning (How do they deal with their feelings when they miss you?)

When he gets the time, Noel would call you. Your voice is good for him.

He thinks a lot, thinks about what you were wearing the last time he saw you, what your hair looked like, what time of day it was. Thinks about your favorites, your least favorites, things you have in common.

Z • Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Noel doesn’t like natural light pouring in when he’s sleeping, but he likes a small lamp on.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Mwah 😽

[funniestpersonalivefr]

first kiss (resident evil women headcanons)

did the boys so you know i gotta do a girls 🙏. includes; jill valentine, claire redfield, rebecca chambers, ada wong, and sheva alomar. not proofread.

jill valentine:

she's very nervous

she does initiate tho

immediately goes back for more kisses

she's so handsy

jills just madly in love with you

you're in the break room. jill, your current girlfriend, is taking a break with you. it's already been a long day but at least your darling girlfriend is there to keep you company. the two of you are still early into this relationship but it's been nothing but amazing.

as the two of you chat over a cup of coffee you realize you've been in there for awhile. as you wrap it up in the conversation, jill's hands sit on your waist which isn't unusual however she goes a step further as she pulls you for a kiss.

claire redfield:

it's a soft kiss and the moment felt perfect. she pulls away mumbling a goodbye before she winks at you and heads back to work.

you can tell she wants to go in for a kiss

she's especially clingy

however you have to intiate

she just melts into your touch

claire's also handsy

you and claire had just gotten back from an exhilarated motorcycle ride. it's one of your favorite activities claire had gotten you into. she had brought you on a ride for the first time a few months ago early into your relationship.

the two of you are rushing into the house as some unexpected rain cut your date short. the two of you are giggling as you get past the front door, completely drenched from the rain.

rebecca chambers:

as the two of you change into dry clothes claire finds herself staring at you, you catch her smiling at her. you can tell what she wants as her eyes are fixed on your lips. you smile and pull her in, as your lips capture hers she melts into you. her hands are all over you before you pull away and the two of you smile.

she makes sure you're comfortable with everything

she asks you to kiss her

you comply ofc bc who are you to say no to rebecca

especially bc she's looking up at you with puppy eyes

you fold everytime

rebecca and you are sitting in your bedroom as you help redress her wounds from a rough mission, only a few months into your relationship and you had an understanding of the difficulties that came with rebecca's job.

she's relaxed in your touch as you finish it up and she moves to face you. she's looking at you, her big doe eyes give you butterflies in your stomach.

ada wong:

"can you kiss me?" she asks out softly. you look at her, face flushed before nodding. you gently cup her face and hesitantly kiss her. her lips are soft and you can taste her chapstick. it feels like fireworks are going off around you.

she definitely goes in for the kiss first

she's been flirting with you for so long

and when you look at ada all blushy she just goes for it

smirking into the kiss the entire time

first kiss is passionate but its followed by a peck

the two of you are at a bar, ada's eyes were on you as you rambled on about your day. your incredibly beautiful girlfriend was keeping men away from the two of you with a harsh glare the moment they approached either of you.

so many had been approaching you and ada was starting to feel irritated. she's so clearly flirting with you and yet everyone around you seems oblivious to that fact that you are hers.

sheva alomar:

as she notices another guy eyeing you from across the bar, she pulls you close. her hands gripping your chin, titling your head so your lips meet her perfectly. the kiss is filled with passion as she pulls away a string of saliva. she pecks your lips again before her gaze lands on the clearly frustrated man.

she kisses you in the heat of the moment

its her telling you i love you

sheva is a gentle yet passionate lover

her hands are cupping your face pulling you in

she's so in love with you

the two of you are on a mission, you and sheva have been nothing but professional the entire time. the two of you made a deal not to let your personal relationship get in the way of your work when you began dating a few months ago.

it was difficult for the two of you and chris had even picked up on the tension. as the mission continued you on, your gaze would linger on her and hers would do the same to you.

when you find a moment to catch your breath, chris moves on ahead of you to give you and sheva a moment. she walks with you before she can't take it anymore and her lips are on yours. her hands cup your face as she keeps you close. your heart is jumping around at her actions.

[ieatangstforbreakfast]

Pairing ೃ⁀➷ Earth 42! Miles Morales x Fem! Reader

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.

Genre ೃ⁀➷  Forbidden love, mutual pining, eventual angst♡

Tags ೃ⁀➷  Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.

Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ Chapters are a bit rushed, sorry bout that 😭 hope u enjoy tho

Chapter 1: Behind the chain

Warning ೃ⁀➷ Profane language, underaged smoking, mention of death, horrible Spanish. Also, I don’t live in America so idrk how people talk there, so please bear with me.

FIC MASTERLIST

Next Chapter

“Hello? Yeah, I’m at practice.”

As your feet hit the ground, the chain link fence shutters from the release of your weight— a sigh escaping your lips as you pull your phone up closer to your ear. The sound of your aunt's nags echo from your phone, bellowing across the abandoned subway and overpowering even the sound of your boots hitting the damp ground. It was shrill, her voice. Like a fork being dragged down a piece of fine china. Activating the flashlight of your phone, you swiftly slip your head out of your hood, the new spot now staring back at you like an empty canvas— devoid of life and color. It’s tragic.

As you trudge down the narrow space, your senses begin to process the stench of the horror movie-like scenery. You could hear the pipes’ leaking going along with your aunt’s ongoing lecture about something you couldn’t recall— somehow distracting you from your search.

But what certainly made you uneasy was the chill.

You hated the cold. You hated the way it’d ice your feet, dry your skin, restrict your clothes, and clog your nose. Though ironically, autumn was the season you found most enjoyable. Most of the nostalgia you bore came from the sight of those scarlet leaves— the smell of pumpkin spice, your mother’s old scarves, and the earthly rich tones of orange and red. It’d been so long, though, since your last happy memory in the season.

Nowadays, the nights are just longer, and the days shorter.

Soon enough, you stop before a tall, white wall, making you gasp as though you’d just won the lottery. Only then you started bidding your farewells to your aunt, who was beyond exasperated with your hurried adieu. Shoving the gadget down your pocket, your backpack falls right off your shoulder with a small thump, eyes still glued onto the blank space.

You make your way towards one of the seats, settling down your stuff while slipping your vape out the crevices of your sleeve and taking a slow puff— the taste of peppermint flourishing through your lips and covering up the stench of whatever was rotting in the railways.

"You're early." A familiar, sarcastic growl emits from the shadows. You turn around as the light from your phone blinds him, making him wince.

“I missed you.” You playfully answered.

The familiar gleam of hazel blinks and stares right back at you, the same stoic stare narrowing from your comment.

“Sure you did.” He huffs.

In the back of your mind, the same phrase bellows.

Well, well, well. If it ain’t Miles Morales.

It was one night, two months ago, when the two of you first met. You were an utter mess, and so was he— and it just so happened that beneath all that rain, the two of you found each other at the right time, at the right place. Supposedly.

The two of you bonded in loneliness and art. It was almost poetic, especially knowing that the two of you were anything but good for each other.

But you believed that that’s what’s great about life— the reckless things, and betting whatever you have on the line, for a taste of something thrilling. Miles knew how to pull on your strings, and the idea of being understood was still new to you. Still, whenever you do find yourself in the comfort of Miles Morales, you can’t help but ask yourself:

Who will we be to each other?

How will we change each other’s lives after this?

You couldn’t quite tell if it was your gut warning you, or your anxiety just being a little shit, but you knew the time to hear the answers was drawing near. You had no idea whether the possibility mortified you or not.

One thing for certain though, was that you knew you wanted him, and you were willing to take the risk to see him over and over again.

Miles took a step closer, his height towering over you like a tree. With a single finger, he maneuvers your flashlight away from his face with a light push.

"Get that shit away from my face."

“Awe, but I wanna see that pretty face of yours.”

“Stop.”

Cat and mouse was your usual dynamic. Though you couldn’t quite pinpoint who the cat was.

He clicks his tongue, moving away from you to head over somewhere else. A few seconds later, the power suddenly lights up and brings the subway back to life. Miles stood by the power switch, staring right at you as if to examine your reaction.

You straightened your lips and raised your brows.

"Well, you should've done that sooner."

He lazily shrugged his shoulders, approaching you once more yet with more meticulous steps. "Wanted to scare ya." He cooly confessed, earning nothing but another chuckle.

"If you wanted to scare me, don’t look so pretty."

Said pretty boy furrowed his brows, making you grin wider.

"Ay, díos. You're..." For a short moment, he thinks of how to complete the sentence.

You hum. "I'm what?"

".. so fucking unbearable."

"Awe, I missed you too." You smiled in a sickly sweet way while placing a hand over your heart. That certain sort of thrill began thumping inside you again, an unfamiliar excitement that got you staring right at him mindlessly with that stupid look on your pretty face. As Miles replied with silence, you shrugged and pulled the mod up your tinted lips— blowing the smoke away from his face. Only then, you gestured it towards him.

"Want a hit?"

"Nah." He dryly replies. "That's your first step to a rehab, y'know."

A low laugh exits your lips, taking another hit while slowly walking around. "With how fucked up I am, I'm bound to end up in either jail, a rehab, or a mental institution— so," You snap your fingers. "I'm just gonna enter all three of them."

Miles looks at you, horrified.

"M’just kidding. Don't you think I look hot while doing it, though?"

He peels the horrified stare away from you, instead choosing to kneel before your backpack, unzipping the damn thing as though it were his.

"What'chu got?" He asks, a certain twang in his voice that lightened you up. You head over in less than a second, grinning stupidly like a little kid in search of favor. You pull the plastic bag out of your backpack, waving it over his face.

"Only the best for you." You wink. "I just kindly borrowed these from my school's art club."

Receiving the bag from your grasps, Miles pulls out the newly bought spray paints. He furrows his brows at the sight of the bold fifteens printed on the bottom of each bottle, a tag left as if to brag. "Kindly borrowed, huh?" He skims over the bottle, evidently impressed. "Fifteen dollars per bottle? That’s a whole heist right there.”

“I literally just snatched it off the cabinet.”

“You must go to some rich kid’s school or sum. You even look the part.”

He gestures over your well-kept appearance. Your clean boots, pressed jeans, freshly done nails, and fragrant hoodie.

And yet you continued to look at him like he was the crazy one.

"... Miles, it’s called neatness. A basic trait." You stand up, stretching your arms above your head, the ache in your bones subtly easing. "If I did have the money, my art would be in an exhibition, not in an abandoned subway."

He pursed his lips, somewhat convinced. "Touché."

As he unpacks the paints, you stay beside him, watching as he goes through the colors and lines them up in order. You shove your hands down the pockets of your hoodie, humming.

"So what'll you be drawing tonight?"

"I ain’t really sure yet… The Subway logo, maybe." He shrugs, an exhausted groan rolling off his tongue as he stands up. "… I ain't got shit. I'm drained."

"Then why'd you come here?"

"Felt bad for ya."

You smirk. "So you did miss me."

He takes a step back, turning his head the other way. "I sure do find your delusional ass amusing." He mumbled, trying to hide the anxiety gnawing at his throat. You hardly notice it, as you were too busy staring at the empty wall, but Miles was uneasy. Uneasy in a way that he was desperate to hide it.

"At least I’ve got an ass." You airily snap back, silence following like an awkward stench. "Did you bring your sketchbook with you, by the way?"

He then proceeds to go through his jacket, eyes widening from the realization. "Ah, shit. I did... Not."

"Awe." You blandly answered, pulling out your own from the pocket of your bag. It was small, convenient, almost like a notepad. "Well, I've got mine here." You toss it over, which he successfully catches. "They're not exactly as good as yours, but you can skim through the pages to find some inspiration."

The pages spin from the flip of his fingers. Tens of concept art, a few unfinished sketches, and some dabbling in watercolor appeared before him in a flash. As he goes through the pages, you take the moment to have a momentary smoke, straying not so far away just so he wouldn't inhale any of it. The nicotine eased you as it normally did, though now that you were looking at this pretty boy before you, you couldn't help but ponder about quitting. Just for him. Just for the sake of him.

Though the feeling the nicotine often brought you was addicting, his presence hit you harder than any other drug, affecting your system in a way that made your stomach whirl. He was like your favorite cup of coffee— the strongest coffee to ever linger in your presence. Strong enough to appear on a drug test.

It was damning.

Dangerous even.

As the page flips again, Miles freezes at the sight. You take the gadget away from your lips, approaching him immediately as he huffs.

"... Huh."

Bursting in neons of magenta and violet was the sketch you made of a certain vigilante.

"Oh, don’t mind that." You mumble. "That's just some random sketch."

He brings the paper closer to his sights, marveling at your talent. The markers and the ink, mirroring the image of a cat on the run. His pretty lips part, mouth hanging agape as he asks. "You know this guy?"

A hero of the streets, some sort of final pillar carrying the weight of New York's safety on his broad shoulders.

"Well, I've seen him— Prowler, from the news. I thought he looked pretty cool."

Prowler, a name all too familiar to you. How could you not know he was? A man hiding behind an iron mask, a digital purple hologram over the metals, making his silhouette mirror a panther’s. The man was all your father recently growled about, the memory of the heavy morning still engraved into your mind. You can almost sketch it out— The stench of his tobacco, the shrill of his angered voice, and the image of your poor housekeeper silently brushing some broken shards into the dustpan. You remember sitting by the dining table, solemnly choking on your breakfast as you forcibly shoved it down your throat.

Eyes downcast and hands shaking.

"You think he's cool?" Miles' voice tears you apart from the memory. He sounded almost elated, like a child in search of praise.

"Yeah, I'd always wanted to be a vigilante, fuck—" The vape rolls off your tongue unconsciously. "Like, my life is so damn boring, but at the same time, I've got too many responsibilities to handle so I can't do the things I like. But hey, that's life, I guess."

"If you've got too many responsibilities, then what the hell are you doing here? It's like midnight r'now, damn."

"I kinda told my aunt I had practice for band."

"You're in a band?"

"…. No." You deadpan. "That's the reason why I'm here, man."

He snapped the sketchbook shut, sighing as he plucked out the red and purple spray paints from the line. "God, you'd be one hell of a headache if I ever had a kid like you."

"Woah, slow down, sweetie, you're already talking about kids and you haven't even taken me out to dinner yet." You tease, teeth nibbling onto your lower lip as you watch him crumble. He straightens his lips, forcefully holding back a smile.

"… Shut that mouth for me, would ya?" He shot back. "Just shut up."

"Oo, make me."

He pops the lid off the red paint, the sound of a nickel ball being shaken up in a metal can soon following. Without even an ounce of hesitation, he curtly sprays the paint over your sleeve, earning a gasp from you. You quickly snatch the neon pink can and start spraying back, the chemical smell wafting over your nostrils as the sound of your giggles echoed down the halls. A minute later and the both of you began drawing your new piece while being drenched in paint.

"Hey, pretty boy.”

Miles instinctively turns to look at you, as though he prided himself in the nickname.

"I need to do the top part, can you boost me?" You ask, voice muffled from the towel pulled over your nose.

Maybe it was the exhaustion, but he agreed without making a sound.

He kneels, tapping on his thigh, gesturing you to take your step. Taking off your shoes, you cautiously climb over, feeling his hands brush against your calves, almost as if he was readying his stance to catch you just in case you fall. Initially, the pose seemed to be serving you well, but when your ankles started shivering, your hand latched onto his head, gripping gently in panic. Miles, who was, of course, caught off guard, began shaking. You finally took a step down.

"Fuck." You whispered. "Can you do it?"

"Hol' on."

"I think you just need to like, tiptoe a bit and—"

"Be patient."

And you did just that.

He stretches out his toes in an attempt to reach for the top, but he fails miserably. Miles then turned to you, bearing the pout of a frustrated child.

"... Ya already know what to do, right?"

"Mm, yeah."

An irrational thought crosses his mind, and it battles against his rationality like a civil war within the confines of his head. A second later, his lone finger signals you to come closer. You do so, and he looks up at the unfinished crown.

"I'm gonna carry you, a'ight?"

"What?" You blurt out. "Y-You don't have to—"

"Just balance yourself." He skips past your rant. "And you better do it well."

Before you could even intervene, he's down and offering you his shoulder. Hesitantly, you position yourself. Looking over at you, Miles skims over your face in search of approval. When your hand shakily makes its way over his other arm, Miles cautiously wraps his palm over the side of your knee, hoisting you up like a trophy he’d just won.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Y-yeah. Just— yeah." You stumble over your words, raising your hand over to start painting.

You could feel it tingling in your bones. Skin deep, rotting within the confines of your flesh, insecurity at its highest peak. And it shut you up. Miraculously, as Miles would say it. Your weight, your body, your own figure frightened you. It would be a lie for Miles to claim that he hasn’t noticed. But he stood tall, hardly showing an ounce of any struggle— which comforted somehow.

He was pretty strong, stronger than you first thought.

As you painted, Miles stood there in silence. Trying his best to focus on his breathing.

But the softness of your palm atop his shoulder, and the growing warmth of his own over your waist. Miles desperately tried to ignore growing warmth burning his cheeks. He resisted the urge to dig into the softness of your waist, and yet it remained like a taunt— allowing only his nails to grip over your shirt, the thin barrier over your skin. It seemed almost vulgar, how his hand was beneath your hoodie, gripping as though you were his favorite plush. How his wrist was pressed against the curve of your hip. Then and there, within the span of five minutes, the silhouette of your body was forever engraved into his senses, his mind, and his touch.

But no one spoke of it.

"... You done?" He groaned.

"In a bit, hol' on."

You thought he'd start complaining about your weight, but he didn't.

You were somewhat relieved, but at the same time, it flustered you.

And when the little scene ended, you and Miles stood there, backs pressed against the wall as you stared at your new masterpiece. You looked over the chemical stains on your sleeves, glancing at him. "This jacket's pretty expensive, y'know. It cost me like fifteen grand."

His face twisted in disgust. "You'd buy a jacket like that? In this economy?”

"It's a capitalist world we live in."

"No shit."

The two of you share a small laugh, evidently exhausted from the whole art process. It wasn't all that much, but it was based on one of your many doodles during class. The cursive that spelled out Stay Out was painted in an intimidating shade of red, its borders tainted in white and black— a crown of thorns resting above the text. It seemed like a warning, an open threat. Crafted by frustration, but upon its finish, you were eased.

"Next time, we should do something that says 'Eat the rich' or 'Vive la revolución.'" Miles suddenly suggested, jazzing his fingers comedically. You click your tongue. "We might get shot, man.”

“With all that smoking you do, you’ll wither away before the bullet even manages to get you.”

You raised your brows. “Okay, and?”

Miles scoffs at your ridiculous reply, but for a moment he thinks about it— some sort of plan in his mind. Sooner or later, he soon gently raises his palm without a word. You stare at his hand confusingly, “What?” you then asked of him. The boy then gestured over his lips with his fingers shaped like a v, imitating the act of smoking. “Lemme try, at least once.”

“… You’re kidding.”

“I’m being for real, ma, just let me try it once.”

You think about rejecting his request, but the curiosity had you fishing out your e-cigarette in less than a second.

“Okay, but if you die, I’m not paying for your damn ambulance bill.”

“Just uber me to the damn hospital.”

Miles then looks at it, glaring holes into the pen-shaped gadget as though he were waiting for it to speak. After considerably taking his time, he plucks it out your palm and starts a slow sip, the collision of the nicotine and the flavor flooding his tongue as the smoke enters his system. When the heat creeps in, however, he bursts out into a coughing fit.

You snatch the gadget away from his grasp as he groans.

“Careful.”

"What the fUCK—, ain't that s'pposed to calm you down?—" He slams his hand against the center of chest in an attempt to ease his lungs.

"… Did you fucking swallow the smoke or what?" You sigh while taking a sip, the smoke smoothly exiting your lips.

"... You know what? You are definitely gonna die early."

"Oh, darling, don't threaten me with a good time."

“Pu—” He coughs a few more times. “Puta, I almost died there.”

You take your palm and began rubbing small circles behind his back. “You shouldn’t do the shit I do, even if I look hot doing it.”

“Ain’t nobody told you that.”

“… Why’d you wanna smoke anyway?”

“I just wanted to know why you keep doing that.” He groans, staring at the pen in your fingers. “I mean— it’s unhealthy as fuck, hardly tastes good, and it’ll kill you the ugliest way possible. So why do it?”

You lower the pen as though your long-lost conscience re-entered your body.. “… I don’t know really.” You mumbled half-heartedly. “I think it’s what calms me down the most…? I don’t know.”

“… You don’t have, like, normal hobbies?”

“The fuck— of course, I do.” You swiftly shot back. “I just don’t have the time to do them.”

“Then what do you do at home?”

You blink.

“What— What do I do at home?” You repeat, thinking of it to yourself. “That’s a good question, what do I do at home?… I do chores, I study a lot. I-I take care the house.” Take care of the house? Yeah, shit I ain’t Mirabel Madrigal. As your mind short circuits, from a mile away, you could already guess his reply.

“I do that too, dumbass.”

You click your tongue. “.. It’s complicated. The time I usually have for myself is when I’m outside, that’s why I lied that I took up band for extra credit.”

You smoothed out the details of your life, picking out a few small details that were definitely not all that important.

"Is that why you're here?"

"Yeah.”

The boy curved his lips into a slight frown.

“I mean,” You shift closer, sighing as you palm the back your neck. “Sometimes, places like these are better than my own home."

"Places like an abandoned subway?"

“You make it sound like I’m homeless.”

“That’s what it sounds to me.”

"... It’s just.." You run your fingers through your hair, eyes glued onto the ceiling above. "I feel more at home in an abandoned subway more than my own house.”

Miles hummed. "… I'd always thought home would be more of a person," He tilts his head. "Rather than a place."

The silence was deafening, but this time, nothing was urging you to fix it— because there was nothing in need of fixing. You were comfortable, weirdly enough, as you never really found comfort in utter silence.

“It’d be nice to be.. Someone’s home.” You couldn’t help but utter those cheesy words. “I think I’d make a great home.”

Miles fiddled with the hem of his hoodie, holding back the words that echoed in his mind.

Yeah, you’re doing great.

Instead, what slips out of his mouth was: “How the fuck are you gon’ be a home? You’re a whole haunted house.”

“Oh, fuck you.” You roll your eyes. “If I’m a haunted house, you’re a rental where all the drive-by shootings happen.”

“Okay, what the fuck.”

“When you go low, I go LOWER.”

In the end, the two of you simply bursted into laughter, sinking down to the floor to take a seat. Another hour passed and so did a hundred topics. They flew by like the autumn leaves, leaving the both of you unconsciously huddling close for warmth beneath the large scarf you brought. Two birds of one feather, one nest. Easy conversations, light laughs, and genuine interest.

Even when the conversation grew darker, the two of you infinitely felt cosy enough to confide in one another. Especially when Miles spoke about his father.

You listened well, yet there was this ball stuck in your throat that you couldn’t quite swallow. A heaviness in your heart, a stiff feeling in your throat. However, your ears were welcoming. His tone was grieving, but his words resonated with acceptance.

"He used to drive me every morning to school... We'd fight over the pettiest things, and god, I hated it, but looking back, it was better then." He buried half his head into his arms. "I'd rather have him annoying me than have him not annoying me at all."

The words hit you like a truck, leaving you defenseless. In a moment, your walls crumble as these words crawl out your mouth. "... Sometimes, when we're with someone, you can't help but wish they'd leave you alone, but when they're gone, only then you'll realize how much you can't live without them."

Though your words were meant for Miles, you knew damn well that they were also for you.

"... There's some truth to that, I guess."

"Does that mean that you'd miss me when I'm gone?" You tease.

Your gentle gazes collide, and eventually, you see that Miles had softened entirely.

"... Maybe."

“.. Maybe?” You repeat his reply. “.. Should I annoy you more then?”

“You’re annoying enough as you are.” He huffs, pulling his knees to his chest. “I hate you so much.”

“Sure you do.”

You lean against his shoulder. “Hate me all you want. I’ll pretend to believe you.”

A light chuckle emits from his lips, but as it fades, he turns his head, burying his nose in the scent of your hair. You were fragrant, and it was addicting. Slowly, he shuts his eyes and basks in your scent.

Then he called out your name softly.

You hum, looking up at him— the inches between you closing in, cold breaths like white smoke intertwining. His cold fingers dance atop your own.

“What?” You whisper.

His lids were heavy, gaze switching between the pool of your eyes and the plush of your lips.

Then and there, you knew.

But something screamed at you in the back of your mind.

We can’t.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

And you pulled away before your lips could even meet.

"Shit." You cuss, clumsily pulling the phone out of your pockets. Your hands frantically scramble to answer the call, the look of Miles' defeated stare stinging the corner of your eye. "Hello?" You began, hearing the chauffeur's voice ask back. "Ma'am, where are you?"

Your fingers press the side of your phone, lowering the volume.

“We're currently clearing up the room right now. Can you please wait about thirty more minutes? Thanks."

As the call ends, you frantically head off to start cleaning up. Trying to evade whatever had just happened— at least, you try to. It invaded your mind and heart, left you breathless and unsteady.

You and Miles began picking up the bottles, shoving it inside the plastic. You then flung the strap of your backpack onto your shoulder, holding the plastic out to him. "You can have it."

Confusion was scribbled all over his face.

"Didn't you steal that from your school's art club?”

You look up, thinking about it for a moment before shrugging. "It’s their problem, not ours." You grin.

Miles shakes his head in feigned disapproval. "Tsk tsk tsk, eres una chica tan mala."

"Don't start, the only Spanish I know's from Dora."

"Que?"

"Queso."

You shove the plastic into his arms. "No hablo Español, lo siento." Was all you managed to form out of the past few weeks you started learning Spanish. You threw a hand in the air, waving him a fast farewell while pivoting your heel to leave.

“Can’t I walk you home?” A suggestion, and not a demand for the first time, Miles insists “It’s dark as fuck outside, and you might get.. Y’know.”

For a moment, you pause to laugh.

“Are you worried about me?”

He nods. “I am.”

“I— wait, what?”

He took a step further. “I am worried about you. It’s ten o’clock. I think I should take you home.”

Miles looked at you in a way you’ve never seen before. It was unfamiliar, or maybe you just weren’t good at paying attention, yet now that it was materializing before you— It overwhelmed you.

It was breaking you open.

You bite your lower lip, shoving your hands in your pockets.

“… I-I don’t know, I don’t think my dad would like that very much.”

“And I’m sure your dad wouldn’t like the idea of his lil’ girl getting hurt.”

There he goes again, towering over you, his cocky eyes never once leaving your face. Lil’ girl my ass, you can’t help but think. I’m tall, asshole. You just so happened to be taller.

“I’ll walk you home.” He reiterates. Now it’s an announcement, not a proposal. “You can tell me to leave when we’re near. I just need to make sure you’re okay.”

“… Miles,” The way his name rolls off your tongue had him weak, and you couldn’t even tell. “.. Okay, fine— But, only up until the Gristedes down the block. Until then, you go home, alright?”

Your voice was too soft, too mellow. It made his breath hitch, made his neck tense in this already cold weather.

“Aight.”

[hminnj]

Have My Heart

gojo satoru/reader

cw: fluff, angst that isnt angst, comfort, gojo satoru is his own warning, not fully proofread or edited, short maybe bad writing, more experimental than anything

an: wrote this with have my heart by maverick city in mind (its christian music, just in case you decide to look at it), no religious themes in the fic tho dw

-

Satoru loves with no reservation.

It's clear in the way that he answers to your beck and call- his whole body attentive to every word and every movement of your lips. He doesn't look away once, carefully observing and picking out the gems of information you give him about yourself- about your day, what you like, your family. He treasures them like a historian's sacred relics, cataloging everything properly so nothing is forgotten, and making sure they're kept clean, as neat and tidy as can be. It's something he's always done, and you see it with Suguru and Shoko as well, it's sweet of him to do so.

.

Satoru loves with no reservation.

You're late one day, it's raining, and you promised Satoru you'd meet up with him early today. You're expect some sort of whining or complaint from him, some sort of pettiness. But he doesn't do anything but grin when you're finally there. Offering up a greeting and then turning, expecting you to follow him. An apology starts to come out but he stops you before you can get any further. Giving you a smile and telling you its alright, that he'll forgive you, and he always will. You don't believe him that day, but now the countless times he's given you grace proves it to be true.

.

Satoru loves with no reservation.

He doesn't ask or expect perfection in anyone. (except himself but in his defense he's already perfect. You, Suguru, and Shoko argue otherwise, however you all agreed the infinity keeps anything from getting into his head). Satoru sees you for the first time that day, you've come back from a visit to your family not long ago. Sitting outside quietly, letting the breeze blow over your features, but everything feels so stagnant. He approaches with light steps, placing himself gently on the bench, and he stays quiet.

His presence is comforting, its peaceful, and you think he'll ruin it when he opens his mouth in about three seconds, likely teasing you about the look on your face and how exhausted you are, but he doesn't. It feels like a breath of fresh wind, blowing away your countless thoughts. You don't know how he does it, but it's nice.

.

Satoru loves with no reservation.

Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College is quiet today. The loud one enabler (Suguru) is out on a mission and as are you, which leaves Satoru and Shoko. Shoko doesn't provide him enough entertainment, and neither you nor Suguru text him throughout the day, which leaves Satoru with two options; bother Yaga or simmer in his glorious thoughts and ideas, he chooses the latter.

You arrive back to your dorm late into the night fully prepared to crash but lo and behold, your bathroom light is on, there's more bags than you can count on your desk of what you think is mostly food, and Satoru has his left foot in the sink under the running water.

You ignore him for your sanity, skimming through the bags to find not just food but surprisingly a few pieces of jewelry and other miscellaneous items. Satoru recieves a raised eyebrow when he comes out of the bathroom with a water trail behind him (a slug, you think), shrugging in response with an "I missed you" that just free-falls from his lips and then immediately going through the bags to show what he bought for you. His behavior is akin to a cat bringing back its finest catch to proudly show their owner. You don't think you'll ever get used to this.

.

Satoru loves with no reservation.

You're talking with Shoko in the classroom about something that Suguru did the other day; a small mess up, which is strange for the black-haired male, but makes for a good conversation nevertheless. Your phone buzzes and theres a reminder you accidently snoozed earlier about your non-sorcerer friends performance, you apologize to Shoko and dash out in a hurry, calculating how late you might be until Satoru stops you right at the door of the building, a questioning look on his face.

After you explain he immediately offers to take (teleport) you but your refusal comes with the fact that you wont have a way back. So he says he'll stay the entire time and leaves you no room for arguing as he hugs you tightly and you're suddenly at the concert hall. The white haired teen smiles at you, getting you back home safely after the few hours the performance is and the extra time you spent with your friend even though you know he has work to do.

.

Satoru loves with no reservation.

Affection practically spills from him, you think he's overflowing with enough of it to fill more than two Earths full. Even in his banter with any of your fellow students it escapes, and especially Suguru. They yell at each other but from Satoru's end you can see the fondness seeping through his words and actions.

You can tell in his sleep as well, unguarded, comfortable, and digging into your side; attempting to mold his body to yours as a movie runs in the background. Suguru is usually the victim for Satoru's "cuddles", but he sits at the table, pleased with the lack of the roach this movie night. From the other side of the couch, Shoko looks over ever so often amusedly to see you get more and more entangled with the six foot being, and she can only offer her "condolences". Eventually you find a somewhat comfy position and play with his limbs and hair, unable to do anything else being physically restricted. It's cute how he subconsciously leans in to your touch.

.

Satoru loves with reservation once.

Its only been two days since then but it feels like an eternity, and the sunlight blaring down on the school isn't helping anyone. You've never seen Satoru like this, silent with a permanent frown, and maybe this is the only time you can say there's something that shines brighter than he does.

It doesn't take you long to follow your feet that lead you to Shoko; she's doing paperwork, and you know she's only doing it to distract herself. That's why you're here after all.

The buzz of the infirmary and the shuffling of papers fills your ears. It's like that for a few minutes until she speaks up.

"You should go talk to him." Of course that's what she says.

"I thought he wasn't willing to converse with anyone." Talking about Satoru doesn't help with the hoarseness of your throat, it just makes you think even harder.

"He isn't but you're... you know." You turn to her confused, and she gives you a look. She's probably messing with you, but she seems so sure of something.

You cave eventually. It takes a lot out of you to stand up, but you do, dragging your feet and your heart in the direction of a dimming sun.

Satoru's on the same bench when you find him, and just like last time it's a breezy, sunny day. You copy his actions, walking over, gently setting yourself down, and quietly observing. He looks so tired. But you don't say it, you know he wouldn't either.

It hurts to look at Satoru in this state. He's less than half a meter away but it feels like there's an infinite distance between the two of you.

He's quiet, too quiet.

It's strange, but you can't think or bring yourself to say anything to fill in the gaps he's left.

Instead, your body moves on its own, shifting closer and gently taking his glasses off, not making eye contact because you know it's the last thing he wants. Then you pull him close and cradle him tightly, he doesn't object. His body lays against yours limply like he's dead weight, and Satoru feels like he should be dead right now. He doesn't hug back, you don't expect him to.

The only thing you do is stay with him like this, until the second-brightest star in your life begins to fade.

.

Satoru loves with no reservation.

He's given you his entire heart and being by now and still attempts to give you more even if after his being there isn't much left to give. The students see it more than ever, with how their sensei brightens (more than he already is) when you show up, words of endearment flowing out of his mouth so easily (his current favorite is wifey), and the overbearing physical affection that you'd have to be blind and deaf to miss.

It's maybe your favorite thing about him, said male would say otherwise, but a sweet smile can't help but reach your face when he talks about his students' daily meanderings to you. Treating them like close family, with the same type of love he's shown you.

-

thank you if you read <3, likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated

gojo is hard to write for ngl ughh

[liloinkoink]

doomsday dnd au posts pt 2: plot this time

this au's a collab effort between me, maruu @xmaruu11, chris @chrisrin, cj @cjskribblez, and smurg @smurgle !! it draws on our life games, woven life and sands of life, as well as the ctm map we completed, divinity's end

this whole summary is just for the AU setup. its just like. prologue. uh. tho im putting it under a cut bc it's very long

if you havent seen the post with the characters and designs, check that out here

Ellery, Iscariot, Syyrin, and Flint are all members of a cult following Myrkul, living at a temple founded and run by Ellery and Syyrin. the cult is fairly passive and respectful of death, but is slowly being invaded by worships of Cyric, a traitorous and power-hungry god of traitorous and power-hungry followers.

[full disclosure for my readers who know dnd: while myrkul and cyric do come from canon sources, we did not stick that closely to the actual dnd canon and sorta half winged it. forgive us for our inconsistencies]

the worshippers of Cyric are lead by a man called Mabuz (aka the curator, the antagonist from divinity's end, who we did have to give a name for this). Mabuz is slowly converting Myrkul's followers to his cause, as well as bringing in followers of his own. this is how Iscariot joins the temple, brought in as muscle in Mabuz's plans for takeover.

Iscariot is slowly losing faith in Cyric until one day he finds his magic disappears entirely. unsure what to do about it, he speaks to Ellery about his sudden loss in magic. Ellery offers him sympathy and understanding, telling him doubt and wavering are a natural part of faith, and that things will eventually work out for him. sympathy is a new experience for Iscariot, who finds this to be an incredibly important conversation, though it isn't enough to bring his magic back

shortly after this, Ellery receives a premonition. Ellery is a prophet, and his god gives him a vision about the end of the world—burning red skies, rains of ash, monsters loose on the world. he tells the cult about it, though with no intention to prevent it—their temple embraces death, and he sees no reason to interfere. even so, the temple residents are split about what the vision means

many of Myrkul's worshipers, such as Ellery, take it as a simple fact. the world will end, and this is basically just a heads-up from their god.

the scheming Cyric group, however, see an opportunity. they believe that, if they bring about the apocalypse, they can shape it, taking ultimate power in the new world and ruling over it

they decide to cause the apocalypse by killing a god—specifically Myrkul. defeating death will grant them power beyond anything else, and this allows them to destroy the members of the temple who doubt their vision

they start this ritual process by killing Myrkul's prophet, Ellery

Mabuz gathers a small group of his supporters and meet Ellery alone in his office. they propose what they call a ritual in honor of Myrkul, sending his most favored ahead to help him in his grand task of welcome the entire world's population. he lists a few of the many members of the cult who have swapped sides, none of which are the people in the room with them, and says all of them are in support of this ritual plan

Ellery is... unconvinced

despite Ellery's position and his faith, he really is afraid to die. besides, Myrkul is patient, and he sees no reason to cut any life short. Mabuz doesn't really listen—he doesn't believe anything he says anyway, he just needs Ellery dead

they argue, and their argument is loud enough to draw Flint's attention. Flint doesn't catch most of it, but Mabuz says fine, Ellery, if you don't want to help us complete our ritual, we'll just ask other faithful members, like Flint here.

Ellery recognizes the threat for what it is and caves, agreeing to the ritual so long as none of his friends are hurt

Flint can tell there's something more happening, but despite his constant snooping, he doesn't figure out exactly what they'd been arguing about that night or what the ritual will be

Syyrin is the one who makes the blade. Mabuz tells her to make the blade for Ellery, but doesn't tell her the occasion. she consults Ellery on the design. despite their usual easy trust and partnership, Ellery doesn't want to tip Syyrin off as to why she's making the weapon or what's going to happen to him, as he doesn't want her to get hurt trying to save him

though Flint and Syyrin both know something is up, neither think to put their heads together about it, so they're never able to get answers

Ellery is weirdly quiet during the next few days. he spends a lot of time near Syyrin and Flint, though doesn't say much. he's convinced, on some level, that this is his own fault, and that he's to blame for his and his friends' lives being in danger. this wouldn't be happening if he hadn't talked about the vision he'd received

after a week, the blade is complete, and the ritual proceeds

(though Mabuz lets Flint roam free despite his sticking his nose in everything all the time to keep Ellery from going back on their agreement, the day before the ritual, Flint sillies a little too close to the sun and finds out what the plan is. Mabuz detains Flint before Flint can tell the others Ellery is going to be killed today. neither Ellery nor Syyrin realize he’s been captured—Syyrin only finds out after Ellery is already dead)

Iscariot is the executioner. he thinks this must be a test of faith from Cyric—if he can kill the man who showed him compassion, he must be able to affirm his oath, and he'll get his magic back

Ellery doesn't want to die. though he's comfortable with death, the act of dying terrifies him. he tries his absolute best not to show it, though, as he doesn't want his friends to fight and get themselves hurt

after Ellery is killed, Mabuz announces the ritual's true purpose: weakening Myrkul in order to destroy him. in another week's time, they'll attempt a second, larger ritual, sacrificing many to gain enough power to kill Myrkul. everyone has two choices: accept Cyric, or be among the sacrifices

(which, L for Flint. he's already on the list)

Mabuz leaves Ellery’s body on the altar. the blade is left in his chest. if anyone touches it, they'll be assumed a Myrkul worshipper and locked away for slaughter in the coming ritual

in the week between Ellery's death and the full ritual, Syyrin manages to lie her way into convincing Mabuz she's down with Cyric, and she begins planning an escape for herself and Flint. other sacrifices they've collected/readied are brought in, including Mar. Mar and Flint meet in their week of captivity, though they can't talk that much in different cells. Iscariot's magic does not come back, and he realizes his test didn't pay off

the first sacrifice in the second ritual is Mar. as a life cleric, she stands out as one of the most powerful sacrifices. it’s again Iscariot who does it, pulling the same weapon Ellery was killed with out of his (still there) corpse to drive her through

as she dies, Mar casts revivify. she intends to revive herself, which does work, though far better than she intends it to: Mar revives not only herself, but also accidentally revives Ellery, as his body is still. there. on the altar

(there's only one soul, though, split over two bodies) (deadsea soulmates forever babyyyyy)

the confusion and chaos is immediate. Mabuz isn't really sure what to do about his sacrifice getting back up, but Mar bolts before he can decide. Mabuz and a few of his cultists run after her in an attempt to salvage their ritual.

Iscariot does not follow, because his faith isn't really in the Cyric worship thing anymore, anyway

a moment after the majority of their group runs off, Ellery sits up. he's a lot slower, his body having been rotted and worm-eaten for a week, and he's incredibly dazed. his revival leaves him without memories, and he's not really sure where he is, what's going on, or even his own name

(he's come back wrong in a lot of ways. one of his eyes is missing, eaten by maggots. he doesn't breathe anymore, and his body has started to rot, leaving him with several patches of exposed bone. before his death, he'd spent all his time in Autumn mode, with orange hair and skin, in reference to his autumnal god. after his revival, he seems to be stuck in winter, with white hair and blueish-white skin)

Iscariot sees Ellery is back and is like oh shit?

Iscariot had been having a crisis of faith, and was able to manage it only through belief in Ellery’s words. he thought killing Ellery for his god would bring his magic back, and Ellery's death only left him feeling more lost.

seeing Ellery back, Iscariot believes in him more than any god

so. he helps Ellery up and decides he's going to protect him, get him to safety. and he looks to Ellery and asks, where do we go?

Ellery has no idea what’s going on. he remembers his god and his faith, but that's... about it. he has full amnesia for his own personal life. he can’t remember where he is or what’s going on. he doesnt know who the man helping him is, though he can see Iscariot wears the emblems of his god, so he trusts him.

Ellery knows there's a hole in his chest—not just the literal stab wound, but something deeper. some part of him is missing—“half his soul is gone, he thinks. his heart is outside his body, and he can feel it moving farther and farther away from him

Ellery follows that feeling, drawn to and seeking out Mar without even really knowing what he's looking for. Iscariot assumes Ellery knows some hidden passage out and follows

while Mar is running/hiding, Syyrin sees the commotion and slips back down to the cells where all the other sacrifices were held. she releases Flint, since she'd been planning his escape anyway. she also frees the other sacrifices-to-be as well, trying to cause a distraction so the two of them can escape. neither of them know about the revivals, they just know something went wrong

Flint and Syyrin had created a hide away, a little secret fort only the two of them knew about. it has a path to the surface and some supplies which Syyrin had been gathering over the last week to prepare their escape, which they begin packing for in earnest with the assorted supplies Syyrin had managed to squirrel away

(this isn't relevant but it's important to me you know this: in both of our two CTM monuments, CJ and Smurg have built weird little secret bases in the walls. i need you to know this is a reference to their secret little mole holes. neither Chris nor Maruu noticed them making these either time but i did and i need to expose them for these)

Ellery stumbles blindly to Mar, who was already panicking quite a bit, and is now panicking more because there’s the corpse and the guy who just killed her. Ellery is immediately struck by the feeling he knows her, though he doesn't know why. this is the heart he was looking for, he's sure, and he starts trying to calm her down. he says he’s not trying to die again and Iscariot says he doesn’t really believe in this faith anyway. Ellery also explains they're trying to escape, and he'd like to help her get away from here

Mar feels that same tug Ellery does, a feeling of emptiness that disappears when he's near. she decides to flee with the two of them, despite her wariness, because she'll be safer in a group of three than by herself

the three of them try to flee, but between an amnesiac, a new and disillusioned cultist, and a sacrifice, literally none of them know where they’re going, especially with so much chaos. the newly-freed sacrifices are running and fighting in the temple, and the Cyric cultists trying to recapture and slay them. the execution trio are kind of just... sneaking and wandering and hoping for a lucky break

their wandering leads them by Flint and Syyrin's base, and Flint and Syyrin see Ellery and another sacrifice and pull the three of them inside. Syyrin explains their escape plan, they get Mar's sacrifice wound and Ellery's wack rot wounds bandaged, and Ellery and Mar get a less bloody change of clothes. Ellery is, again, unusually quiet, but Syyrin figures it's shock and takes the lead in readying their escape

out in the temple, some of the ritual actually does happen. the Cyric cultists manage to hunt down and kill some of their intended sacrifices, furthering their gathering of power. even the sacrifices who kill cultists in self defense accidentally contribute to the ritual’s completion, gathering enough blood for Mabuz to recite his incantation and attack Myrkul

but Mar did fuck up the ritual. Myrkul isn't killed, but shattered, pieces of him scattered across the world

Syyrin and Flint lead the group through the hideaway's secret exit to the surface, allowing all five of them to escape. they emerge into the world to find the world halfway to ruin, the apocalypse halfway started. burning red skies, rains of ash, the distant cries of monster. this, Ellery actually recognizes—this is the apocalypse he saw in his vision

the five of them now have a new mission: find and collect the pieces of Myrkul to put Myrkul back together. revive him and set the world right again. this setup is based on the CTM map format—Capture the Monument maps require players to make their way through different areas and collect special wool (or discs, in the map we played) from the end of each area to bring back to their monument, and players win once they’ve collected all the wool

(CTM stands for “Capture the Myrkul” trust)

we haven’t fleshed out most of the actual “campaign” (bc the au is only like. 4 days old) though a lot of what we HAVE talked about is the characters learning how to manage the conflicts of the new group they’ve found themselves in. stuff like Mar resenting Iscariot for killing her without even apologizing, or Syyrin or Flint’s feelings on Ellery’s amnesia meaning he’s completely forgot their friendships (to name two conflicts among the. lots of bullshit these guys have going on), all while heading through the areas of the divinity’s end map looking for the discs the pieces of Myrkul

[peachhcs]

rainy day at the lake house

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

summary: there’s always someone around at the lake house meaning will can never get his girl alone without someone chirping at them

2.3k words

warnings: kissing, heated make out, lowkey sub!will, implications and talk of sex but no sex actually described, hickeys, will being clingy and kind of insecure (i don’t think i missed anything) (lowkey self-indulgent but whatever)

okkk this is my first time publishing something like this & i'm lowkey nervous for the feedback/reactions so pls be nice LMAOO obviously they’re both 18/19 in this and everything is consensual! if y’all really like this i can make a pt. 2 (maybe? it will be explicit if i do tho!!) i didn’t wanna make anything too explicit for my first time posting something like this anywaysss enjoy :)

au masterlist

will didn't realize how hard it would be to get his girl alone with almost twenty people in one house. he thought maybe—just maybe—there'd be a time when someone wasn't around and he could pull samy away for an hour, but there was always someone. always. he'd turn a corner and one of luke's friends would be hanging out there, or a devil's guy perched himself in the next room making it impossible to even breathe without having someone at your side.

and when the moment did arise, everyone would just chirp at him. he'd get up to go find samy and one of the guys would make some comment leaving the poor boy red in the face and swallowed by embarrassment. will couldn't even kiss her anywhere without someone having something to say.

will smiled, lacing his arm around samy's shoulder when she found a spot next to him. the girl returned his smile, pinching his arm while the blonde leaned in for a kiss.

their lips met for a brief second before getting pulled apart by some snickering from moldy and rut. their faces flushed, samy easily brushing them off and engaging in a conversation with them. will, however, couldn't rid his cheeks of the embarrassing crimson, slowly sinking down in his seat.

the chirping never usually bothered the boy, but at this point it was getting old. why couldn't everyone just grow up and stop poking fun at him for wanting to show some affection to his girlfriend? no one ever chirped as badly at ryan and julianne, or even rutger and kayleigh. what was so different about will and samy that everyone always had something to say?

one thing about michigan was that summers were always unpredictable. one minute everyone would burn in the 90° heat for days and then the next it rained forcing everyone to get close as they curdled up inside.

every room in the lake house filled itself with people trying to pass the time. turning a corner was like a jumpscare because you had no idea who you'll see. will found himself searching for samy. she left with hannah to go do something, abandoning will on a couch with gabe, ryan, drew, and aram who took turns playing mario kart. the boy got tired of them, wanting to spend time with his girl instead.

he nodded to some of the older guys as he passed through the house, wondering where exactly the brunette wandered off to. she must've went upstairs because he didn't see her anywhere downstairs, so will started up to the second floor. he finally started hearing faint voices of what sounded like samy and hannah coming from her room. the boy gently knocked on the door, not wanting to barge into whatever they were doing.

hannah's face appeared, a small smile on her lips when she saw the tall blonde standing sheepishly before her. "look what the storm blew in," the girl joked as she opened the door wider.

"hi will," samy grinned from where she sat on her bed. a sheepish grin spread across will's own lips.

"hi," he felt relieved that he finally found her while his eyes darted across the room. something about her room at the lake house was like a time capsule because every memory held itself in there.

the two held one another's gaze before slowly glancing at hannah, hoping she'd take the hint that they wanted to be alone.

"oh, right. this is my cue to leave," hannah chuckled and quickly slipped back out the door.

samy and will shared a small laugh before the boy shuffled himself closer to the bed, eyeing the pictures spread out across the comforter.

"we got bored, so we came up here and i decided to look through all of these pictures," samy explained when she saw her boyfriend's expression.

"feels impossible to get a moment away, huh?" the boy mumbled, gaze flicking back up to the brunette. she flushed under his stare, pushing the pictures into a pile before scooting herself closer to will.

her arms carefully wrapped themselves around his shoulders, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his head. will's hands quickly clasped around her wrists as he pushed his face into the crook of her neck, breathing her in. it felt so good finally getting a second alone.

"i guess that's what happens with twenty people in one house," samy chuckled lightly.

will turned his body into her more. the two fell back on the bed, eyes never leaving the other. samy reached out to brush away some of will's messy curls while his own hands wandered to the exposed skin of her (his) t-shirt and waistband.

"i feel like i've hardly been able to get you away for a moment. everyone's always pulling you away from me," will said almost sadly. "and when i do, someone's always got something to say about it."

maybe the boy was just a little bitter he couldn't show his affection because people chirped every time. samy laughed, pushing herself closer.

"i know, the guys are annoying aren't they? i dunno why they're like that," the girl shrugged lightly. she wasn't all too bothered by it though being so used to the teasing by now.

"they don't even do it around ryan and julianne. or rutger and his girlfriend," will continued with his annoyances.

"maybe it's just because this is the first summer we're finally actually together. everything was so different last summer as we figured stuff out. plus, the guys think they have to tease me all the time because i'm their designated little sister," samy rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless.

"that's stupid," the blonde muttered making samy laugh again. his touches on her bare skin made a shiver go down her spine. she clearly missed will's absent touches too. he's had to restrict himself knowing someone would say something if his hands were anywhere but to himself.

"we're together now, though?" the girl tried, caressing will's cheek. he blushed under her touch, breaking a tiny smile.

"for like ten minutes until someone barges in," he mumbled in annoyance. "we can't even sleep together without someone saying something and i don't mean it in a sexual way."

the one thing will looked forward to all summer was being able to fall asleep with samy in his arms and wake up with her still there. he craved that the entire school year. her weekend visits weren't nearly enough for him and now they couldn't even fall asleep with one another without someone making a sex joke. the brunette frowned briefly.

"you know you still can, right? i can make hannah sleep somewhere else," samy said.

"that would be kind of rude of me to make you do that," will was also extremely considerate and he wasn't gonna make hannah sleep on some flimsy blow up mattress.

"no, it wouldn't. i think she'd understand. why do you care so much about what people are saying about us anyway? i thought their chirping never bothered you?" the girl searched her boyfriend's eyes.

"i dunno.. maybe i just feel i'm supposed to gain their approval? you said it yourself, you're like their little sister. i'm the boyfriend half of them haven't even met before. i don't wanna make the wrong impression.. make them think i'm not good enough or something," will finally confessed. he sat up so samy wouldn't see his expression that glued itself to her carpet.

"hey, are you scared of jack, quinn, and luke's hockey friends?" samy raised her eyebrow, sitting up and trying to get will's eyes back on her. a slight tease hid in her tone.

"i dunno. maybe?" the boy mumbled.

"baby, you've got nothing to worry about. they like you, trust me and you don't have to try and please them all the time. i know it's only like your 2nd or 3rd summer with these guys, but you'll get used to it. they just wanna be annoying because they can be and that's what they like doing. yes, the chirping is annoying, but it's in good fun and it'll start sliding off your back soon," the youngest hughes held will's face in her hands so he'd look at her. his expression softened out a bit while his smile returned to his lips.

"plus, they're gonna have to like you. you're family," the girl chuckled. will carefully pushed his forehead against hers, still smiling.

"what are you implying?" the boy teased some.

"that you're gonna be around for a long time."

with that, will pushed his lips to her cherry-stained ones. the taste was intoxicating leaving the hockey player wanting more and more. his hands drifted down to her waist while samy's tangled themselves into his hair, messing it all up again. having her lips against his own was a feeling will missed after holding himself back for days while around everyone. he knew samy felt the same with the way she sucked and nipped his lips.

things started getting heated fast. all of the pent up sexual tension blew through the air as will worked to get his shirt off. samy threw her own somewhere on the floor leaving her in her bikini top that also had will going crazy anytime he saw her in it.

they reattached their lips, samy's back hitting the bed while will hovered over her. he started moving downwards, nipping at her neck before going into the spot right below her ear that he knew she loved. a gasp escaped samy's lips as soon as will's made contact with her skin.

"i knew you'd like that," the blonde said against her skin. his hot breath had the girl squirming underneath him. "will," she half moaned half warned because she knew someone was in the room right next door.

the boy disregarded her and continued moving down. his next stop was her chest, not caring that people would see the marks. will wasn't the possessive type, but sometimes he liked people knowing what was his. his mouth moved fast, sucking hickey after hickey across samy's chest in the most visible places.

"will, people are gonna see," the girl breathed out, trying to tug his head away despite how good his mouth felt on her.

"so?" the boy quirked an eyebrow. she flushed under his stare before will went back in, adding to his growing collection.

"can i at least return the favor?" samy mumbled, wanting to mark her boyfriend up too. also because she could and didn't have to worry about fans seeing them under his uniform or something.

will hummed in response and samy took that as her cue that she could. she quickly flipped them over, not wasting a second attaching her lips to the boy's warm skin. she found his spot—in the same spot as hers—and sucked. her plump lips had will groaning in pleasure. he missed her lips on him like this.

"oh yeah, right there," the blonde hummed making samy smirk.

"good luck not getting chirped at after this," the girl teased as she drifted further down will's chest. the boy flushed.

her hot breath made will squirm. a few whimpers escaped his lips which prided samy knowing she made him fall apart like this and the fact that she was the only one who could see him in this way.

"so handsome," the girl praised, running her fingers down the boy's toned abdomen that showed off all the hard work he's put in over the years for the sport he loved.

she got dangerously close to his waistband, ignoring the bulge pressing against her thigh. her dancing fingers sent a shiver down will's spine—more whimpers falling from his lips.

"s-samy," will breathed, voice shaking a little.

"hmm?

"please—"

"please what?" the girl raised her eyebrow. she loved seeing will's scrunched up expression and the way his breathing became rigid and unsteady.

"if you keep doing that, i don't know if i'll be able to control myself," the boy got out. his eyes slid towards samy's fingers still dancing dangerously close to his waistband and where he wanted her touch the most.

"then what do you want?" samy's lips were very close to will's ear. her voice dropped, sending another shiver down his spine.

will met her gaze, pushing his head up to connect for a kiss. they melted into one another as if their lips were made for one another. will's one hand wrapped around samy's waist before slowly drifting down until he reached the waistband of her shorts. samy's one hand lost itself in his hair while the other dragged along his torso. in the next second, will's hand dropped further until he hand a handful of her ass. his action made the girl giggle and that's when her finger broke his waistband.

"we don't have to do this," samy said when she felt will tense a bit. the boy quickly shook his head, eyes wide.

"no, no, i want to. there's just..so many people here," his cheeks reddened, getting embarrassed at the idea of getting caught.

"good thing doors have locks. just gotta be quiet," the brunette grinned, pushing herself up to go and lock her door. "plus, you're the one who's loud anyway," samy smirked while will's entire face became a deeper shade of red.

"shut up," he mumbled.

samy laughed, climbing back onto the bed and straddling will's lap. his eyes were on every part of her, admiring the work he did as his thumbs made small circles across her thighs.

"also, if they do hear us, i'm sure they'll never let either of us live it down."

that made both of them laugh as samy dipped her head back down to reconnect their lips. will couldn't be happier that today turned into a rainy day.

[poursomesunaonme]

taste you still !

pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

summary: you've been the o'hara's babysitter for quite some time; miguel thinks it's time for a raise!

wc: 4k

a/n: i have nothing to say for myself - i wrote this in two hours off two glasses of wine LMAO

cw: minors dni (pls have ur age in ur bio)!, age gap (reader is in college), drinking (clear for consent tho), pet names (sweetheart, bunny, conejita, little girl), doggy, oral (fem and male receiving), handjob, 69, biting, edging, scratching, size kink, overstim, nipple play, squirting, modified missionary, finger sucking, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare!

the tv flickers idly across the room as you fiddle with the hem of your skirt.  gabriella had been asleep for a few hours.  glancing at your phone, you find it’s just past midnight.  it’s a warm, friday summer night.  a soft drizzle begins to come down outside.

classes just finished for the summer.  if it had been any other friday, you’d be out at bars tearing it up with your friends.  however, the single dad you nanny for called you in last minute.  you didn’t mind.

the moist rainy air from the outside defeats the advances of the air conditioner, and it’s beginning to get hot in the living room where you sit.  you’re thankful for wearing light clothes, as it helps with the heat beginning to settle. the warmth and the sound of the rain to help your body settle, and you begin to doze off.

you jump as the lock clicks, signaling the return of your employer.  you clear your throat and check your phone before putting it down, acting like you were watching whatever animal documentary was on the tv.  

2:26am had blinked across your screen.  the father enters the house with a quiet sigh, locking the door behind him.

“hi, mr. o’hara,” you say lightly as he hangs his coat and shakes his umbrella before putting it in a plastic bag to dry off.

“hey, sweetheart,” he says, trying to keep the noise down to keep from waking his daughter as he kicks off his shoes, too tired to care if they land strewn across the floor.

“how was your night?” 

“i need a drink.” he chuckles, his footsteps receding into the kitchen to assuage his desire.  “do you want one?”

he had never offered you a drink before.  of course, you’re of age - it was just uncommon, given your position in his family.  

“i, uh…” you stumble over your words.  “sure.  please.  it’s been a long day.”

“i hope gabriella didn’t give you much trouble.”  the crackling sound of ice breaking under an expensive scotch drifts from the kitchen.

“no, she was great.  she just… she missed you.”

the words unspoken scream that you did as well, but you ignore them.  it was delusional to think of him that way, but you couldn’t help yourself for that split second.  it was rare to spend more than ten minutes with him when you helped him out with nannying - there was no reason for you to feel such an emotion.

“yeah… i missed her too.”

some underlying meaning laces his choice of words.  the sound of his footsteps alert you to his presence before he reaches over the couch from behind you to offer you the glass.  you jump slightly, but accept it.  he sits heavily next to you, the couch creaking under his sudden weight.  you both take a heavy sip of the drink.  it slightly burns your throat, but you manage to choke it down anyway.

you’re aware of his identity, as it was necessary to be privy to such matters when taking care of his daughter.  you had detailed protocols to follow in case of such emergencies and the like, but that didn’t mean that you would ask about his mission.  you assumed the subject was off limits, and that strategy kept you in good graces with the man.  instead, he asks you about how the end of your school was, if there was any issue in securing an apartment for the next semester, mundane things and the like.

you answer all of his questions politely.  as much as you want to inquire about his missions, you refrain from doing so. he finishes his drink in no time, asking if you’d like another.  you eye your drink then finish the whole thing, handing the empty glass back to him.

you swear he mutters “good girl” under his breath.  it makes your stomach churn in a way you could have never imagined.

when he sits next to you with the drinks refreshed, it’s much closer.  you feel the heat radiating off his body.  the alcohol begins to course through your veins, and you can’t control the way your body easily gravitates toward him.  you struggle against the muffling feeling, struggle to keep control of your body that so badly wants to be pressed against his.

“oh, did i make a mistake?” he murmurs when he notices your proximity.  “want me to order you an uber?”

“no, no, mr. o’hara.” you shake off his offer.  “i’m okay.  thank you though.”

he pauses, swishing the alcohol in the glass before downing it swiftly.  “in that case, i’m gonna go shower.  you can leave if you’d like, or you can strip down naked and wait for me in bed.”

so i can finally fucking ravage you is the ending that he wishes to add, but he doesn’t want to scare you.

you’re taking a sip as he speaks, nearly spitting your drink out at his proposition.  however, you keep your composure and say nothing as he finishes his drink in one swift gulp and gets up from the couch, leaving a shivering feeling through your skin.

the second he leaves earshot, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. 

you’re fucked.

it’s like he knows the way you look at him in those minute moments when he leaves and returns from work. it’s like he knows that you continuously brag to your friends about how handsome he was.  it’s like he knows that you’ve said countless times that you’d jump him if you were ever given the chance.

but that was all just a silly little crush.  you never imagined that he would actually give you the opportunity.

he’d made you an offer you’d be downright stupid to refuse.

which is how you end up splayed in his bed, the cool air of the bedroom chilling your skin.  it was the obvious choice.  your chest rises and falls with anticipation.  the hopes of the man following through with his lewd offer brings on an ever-quickening heart rate.  you adjust your position again and again, hoping that each following pose will please him more than the last and help assuage the nervous feeling gnawing in your gut.

just as you chose the simple option to lay back against the pillows with your legs folded delicately together to one side, the shower turns off.  miguel doesn’t even bother drying off before he emerges from the bathroom in a dramatic billow of steam, wet gray-streaked hair tumbling into his face.  small droplets of water roll off his naked body and splatter against the floor.  the musky scent of his body wash hits your nose.  it makes you dizzy.  combined with the sight of him and the heavy alcohol rushing through your bloodstream, you’re completely susceptible to whatever plans he has in store.  you lose your breath at the sight of his tan, toned body approaching you.

“get on your hands and knees.”  the way he commands you is almost a detached sigh.  you don’t hesitate to obey, however.  without thinking, you get up from the position to poise yourself at the end of the bed in the way he ordered.  your heart speeds up, pounding against your ribcage.  this position already?  skipping to the main event?  you aren’t complaining, just surprised.

that feeling of surprise continues when you hear his knees heavily drop to the floor and his hands cup the globes of your ass and spread them apart.  the cold air hits that warm center and you gasp.  you gasp because the feeling is surprising and his lips press between your folds and you gasp because he groans so deeply at the first taste of you.

you’re fucked.

he takes no time to begin diving into every inch of your cunt.  you clutch at the bedsheets, wincing at the cold droplets from his hair running down the back of your thighs.

“mr… mr. miguel.”  you squeak, unable to muster up the brainpower to say anything else.  he works like it’s necessary for him to keep breathing, like he can’t wait to do anything else, like he’s starving, and you’re the first meal he’s come across in days.  

“is this okay?”  he finally pulls back, drawing a gasp from your lips at the cold air hitting that warm place again.  “just can’t… fuck… hold myself back.”

you make the mistake of craning your neck to meet his eyes at his panting candor.  his face just barely hovers above your ass, hands still spreading you apart.  you gulp at the sight of the shimmer of your essence on his lips.  he pants heavily, broad shoulders heaving with the force of his breath.  his eyes are gleaming, his pupils blown out with lust.  he looks fucking crazy, hair tumbling into his face.

you can feel your face heat up at the sight of him, feel your expression fall as you acknowledge again and again and again: you’re fucked.

a nod is all you can manage to urge him to continue.  you turn around and focus on the shiny silk pillows to ground yourself, bracing for the impact.

he merely grunts and dives back between your legs, splattering the last few drops remaining from his dewy skin onto you.  it takes everything in you not to collapse when he begins working with an increased fervor.  apparently, your words gave him great encouragement, as he intensified the movements, even daring to remove his lips from your folds to plant heavy, open-mouthed kisses on the backs of your thighs - and even daring to nip at the sensitive skin. 

before you know it, you sink down into the comforter, fingers whitening in a death grip on the sheets for support.  miguel doesn’t seem to notice - he’s too lost in the feeling of the increasing warmth on his tongue, of the blood rushing to where your body deems it to be.

just as you’re about to finish, he pulls back.  it draws a whimper from you, but before you can utter a word of complaint, he straightens up and begins to rub his length between the sticky wetness that welcomes him.  you whimper at the feeling, pushing your hips back against him as an invitation inside.  he wastes no time in accepting, pushing into you once he’s amply coated. 

your eyes bulge out of your head and you cry out a stilted moan as he doesn’t stop - not until he’s fully sheathed in you.  you sink down fully into the mattress, only supported by his hands when they grasp your waist to hold your lower body upright.  the beginnings of claws begin to poke into the meat of your hips.  overwhelming feelings circulate through every part of your body.  your mind begins to fog over.  you can’t differentiate the feeling from the alcohol or the pleasure; they work in tandem.

he doesn’t waist time to begin thrusting into you, more surely than he’s done anything in his life.  the rhythm is slow, but deep, and it drives you over the edge in no time.  since he left you hanging from the ministrations of his mouth, the movements of his length deep within you shove you over the precipice of pleasure.

“miguel… please, don’t stop.”  you whimper.  your eyes roll into the back of your head and you feel a great weight press into your back.  his lips appear on the shell of your ear.

“don’t hold back for me, bunny,” is the whisper.  “let go.”

you do as you're told, whimpers muffled against the mattress as you give into the pleasure, squeezing and convulsing around his length.  he licks behind your ear before nibbling on the lobe, drawing an extended moan that takes your breath away.  you can’t muster up any words - no praise, no thanks.  just incoherent sounds that express the feelings that you can’t articulate with the onslaught of pressure.

"mi conejita..."

miguel continues to rut into you like a wild animal.  his body presses flush against your back as his hips move, only going deeper and deeper as he jerks them back and forth.  there’s no relief, no breaks you get from his demanding size, from his desire to puncture you deeper and deeper until he finds his own sense of relief.

just as you finish, you think there will be a moment in the trembling of your legs that miguel will spare you.  however, you’re wrong.  the feeling of you constricting around him ignites a new passion in him, one that results in his lips meeting your neck, your shoulders, your back - one that draws his teeth into your skin.

a gasp escapes at the feeling of him nibbling on that sensitive skin, of the feeling of his hips continuing to mercilessly ram into yours.  you don’t want him to stop.  your hands clutch as the sheets, begging for some stability from the bed, but it doesn’t come.

instead, miguel’s hands wrap around your chest to pull you up as he straightens up.  his grip tigthens as you settle pressed against his sweating, heavily chest.  when you’re secured, his hands begin to move.  first and foremost, they grab your chin to face him and without hesitation, his lips crash against yours.  his fingers squeeze your jaw to pry it open and his tongue shoves down your throat.  you whimper against him.  he eats the sound whole.

his hands don’t stop once they leave your chin, trusting that your lips won’t leave his.  they reach down to pinch and pull your nipples, wander down to rub slow circles into your poor overstimulated clit.  the sound of his hips slapping against your raw skin is overwhelming, you can’t help but lean back into his chest for support, his tongue still craving the inside of your mouth.  he grunts in surprise when you start to suck his tongue desperately.  the sound simmers in his chest as he chuckles.

“you’re gonna be the death of me, little girl.”

you find yourself smiling, find yourself squeezing him as he moves inside, threatening to tear your insides apart.

“fuck,” he moans into your mouth.  “christ, you’re tight.”

you moan and whine into his mouth, and he devours those sounds as well.  the vibrations only spur him forward, only egg him on to continue ramming his hips into your body.  his fingers rub unceasingly against your increasingly sensitive clit.

“i’m gonna-” you manage to slur around his overpowering tongue and teeth.  “i’m gonna cum again.”

he groans, lowly and long.  it’s a lewd sound, one that sends all the heat from your body straight down between your legs.  it’s an encouragement, one that sends you over the edge within a split second.  you moan, legs shaking as you begin to collapse onto the bed again.  you can’t help the weakness, can’t help the fact that your legs turn to jelly as he rams into you with want and need that you can’t even begin to fathom.

you squeal as a fresh spurt of juices flow from your cunt, flow around his length, and down your inner thighs.

he swears again at the sensation of liquid beginning to run down his length, trickling down his own legs.  “shit… shit… i-i need that.  i need you to do that again.”

he pants and pulls out.  you gasp at the empty feeling, but he doesn’t give you much time to process it fully before he lays down on the bed and snatches your waist, pulling you over to align your hips with his face.  before you can utter a word of objection or acceptance, he yanks you into his face, burying himself in the warm grave of your cunt.

you throw your head back and moan weakly, tired and overstimulated from the last orgasms, but he doesn’t stop.  his ministrations are unyielding, even when you plant your hands against his hips to steady yourself.  his hard length stands in front of you, just barely out of reach of your mouth.  you can’t help yourself from drooling at the sight, of precum spilling from the tip and mixing with your juices that still dribble down the veins.

you try to move forward, but he pulls your hips back stubbornly, shoving his tongue into you.  you whimper, opting you reach your hand out to wrap around and pump his length until you can get your mouth on the impressive sight.  he slows as he realizes what you want to do.  he knows how much bigger he is than you.  he slides up the pillows to sit up, closing the distance between you and your prize until your lips suckle on the tip, drawing a hiss from him.  as if an attempt to silence the sound, his teeth sink into your asscheck.

“fuck,” you groan as the teethmarks in your skin join the bitemarks he left on your neck, back, and shoulders, still fresh and throbbing.  you attempt to shake off the feeling and start to bob your mouth up and down on his length, drooling over the musky taste of his precum when your tongue trails down the base, every vein drawn like a map under your tongue.

he doesn’t let you indulge yourself for long before he jerks your hips back against his face once more, drawing your mouth from his length with a soft pop.  you moan in indignation, attempting to lunge back to continue your work.  however, miguel’s grip on your hips, the nails beginning to dig in the muscles, successfully stops you.

instead, you pump down his shaft, hoping that you’re pleasing him as much as he’s pleasing you.  another wave of pleasure rolls over you, and you can’t help but whine at the vibration of miguel’s moans as he gulps down the juices that flow heartily from your center.  his dick twitches in your palm.

“please…” you whimper.  “please fuck me… please…”

“no” is the simple answer.  “you’re cumming on my face, mi conejita.” 

your cheeks heat at his unashamed lewdness, at how he so easily expresses his desire for you.  how long had he been feeling his way?  how long had he wanted to ravish you like this?  he seems so resigned to his desires that he just can’t help himself anymore.

he gets his wish soon enough, pulling you so far onto him that his nose dips into your entrance, triggering an explosion of pleasure within you.  he groans as your legs begin to shake around his face, as you give up on pumping his shaft because you can’t focus on anything else but not losing your mind at how good he makes you feel. 

miguel doesn’t give you a reprieve in his agenda, slapping your ass twice to signal a position change before you can even catch your breath.

“get up,” he growls, and you obey.  he pushes you down on the bed in his place - the pillows are still warm from where he sat, still damp from the juices running freely down his face and jawline to soak the sheets.  without hesitation, he grips your calves and throws them over his shoulders.  you’re completely powerless underneath him when he pushes into you fully, not waiting a split second to begin ramming into you, even deeper than before.

it’s nearly unbearable, especially when he grabs your wrists, crosses them with a single hand, and holds them over your head before his lips crash onto yours.  your moans pour into his mouth, and he takes them without a second thought, returning them with equal fervor.  each pound of his hips forces water droplets from his damp hair onto your shaking body.  the way he presses down into you, the way the weight of him presses your thighs against your chest, the stretch aching, the opening angle of your hips for him to ram deeper into your warmth… it’s too much.

tears bead at the corners of your eyes when you open them to find him watching your face, even as he’s shoving his tongue down your throat.  you feel the corners of his mouth turn up into a smile at the sight of you so weak with want, with desire.  he looks fucking feral.

he pulls back, watching your reaction as he turns his head to press sloppy kisses to your calves, nipping at the skin.  welting bumps appear under his mouth, like he’s decorating you in just the fashion he likes.  when he’s finished, his lips crash onto yours again.  he doesn’t stop, doesn’t show mercy, not even when you’re babbling for him to continue, to push you over the edge once more.

“i gotta…” he pants, finally drawing back from your lips to examine your whole body shaking against the rough motion of his hips bulldozing into you.  a single line of spit still joins your lips.  “i gotta taste you still… fuck.”

he thinks for a moment before his fingers dive between your folds, gathering an ample amount of essence before he raises them to your mouth, spreading the liquid across your lips.  you can barely function at the lewd sight, even when he presses his fingers into your mouth, leading your tongue to swish around them and lap up every last drop.  his face contorts when your lips close around his digits, sucking his digits dry.

his mouth crashes against yours, exploring every bud in your mouth with renewed fervor at the flavor of your cunt all throughout your mouth.  you realize he had let go of your hands and you use the freedom to latch your nails into his back, clawing it to ribbons.  he thrusts into you with refreshing vigor, spurred by the satisfaction of your taste, at your nails sinking into his skin, and the warm, pulsing feeling of your cunt around his length at the same time.  he doesn’t last long, doesn’t make it much more time before he moans and whimpers into your mouth, warm cum spilling into you.  he removes his mouth from your kiss bitten lips and opts to bite into your neck, so hard you’re afraid you’ll bleed - but it’s enough to send you tumbling over the edge with him.  but it doesn’t matter, not when he’s groaning against you, fucking the last bit of himself into you, slowing his hips more and more.

when he’s finally finished, you squeeze your arms around him, removing your nails from his skin, welcoming him an embrace for him to collapse into.  he accepts the invitation graciously, his full weight pressing upon you as your legs fall from their position on either side of his hips.

he sighs into your neck, into the satisfying feeling of his cum beginning to ooze from your warmth, down your ass, spilling onto the bed.  there’s a few moments of wordlessness, the only sound echoing the room is breathless panting.

“well, consider this payment for watching gabi tonight?”

you laugh at his offhanded comment that breaks the silence and press a kiss onto his heaving shoulders.

“no, i’m still expecting the same rate.”

“in this economy?  times are changing, sweetheart.”  he raises his head to meet your eyes as you laugh.  “i hear this is the new salary.  don’t tell me you’re that opposed.”

“i’m not… of course not.”  you laugh nervously.  he chuckles at the sight of you getting so flustered.  he swiftly rises, pulling out of you so fast that you barely have time to process it before he gets warm rags and towels from the bathroom.

he comes back and kisses your forehead gently, wiping the residue of the wild night from your body.  it’s a tender gesture, one that you didn’t expect from the rugged creature.  however, it’s not unwelcome.

“well, if you’d like to stick with me, i’m sure there will be some benefits in the future, if you’re willing to stay on.”  he pauses and grins.  “and it’ll be nice to have you here in bed in case i get called out in the middle of the night. you always sound so pissed at me when i call to wake you up.”  

he dries off your wet skin with a towel before letting all of the material fall to the ground, forgotten.  his body curls around you, the overwhelming size and warmth of him surrounding you.

you smirk, letting out a giggle at the continuation of the joke, heat pooling in your cheeks from the easy closeness he pursues with you.  “of course, mr. o’hara.  i don’t think anyone else could match such a wonderful deal.”

divider by: @/ffffffaatality

@dilftaroooo come n get it !

© all work belongs to poursomesunaonme. do not copy and repost. likes, comments & reblogs are always appreciated !

[5lut4ghouls]

Dracopia x his ghouls :33

Tws// just blood/biting? Maybe a little bit of suggestive-ness? I don't 100% remember, i wrote this in class 😭

★ When his ghouls found out they practically begged him to allow them to help

★ Copia reluctantly agreed. they’re ghouls, it’s not like he could hurt them too badly, right?

★ However he did not expect them to be so… demanding about it

★ Sometimes it becomes less about making sure copia is fed and more about the ghouls wanting his teeth in their skin

★ In a ghouls mind biting = love, it's traditionally how ghouls claim their mates as well

★ Some ghouls are definitely more demanding than others

★ Aurora rarely asks, instead she prefers to just make sure her neck, wrists, and thighs are always exposed

★ She'll cling onto copia, sit on his lap, curl up next to him while making sure he has a clear view of her veins

★ She's extremely whiny when he does bite, but she loves it

★ She prefers being on his lap when he bites

★ Rain pretty much does the same thing

★ Loves sitting all pretty in copias lap while he feeds. It's his favorite thing

★ Mountain and aether ask him if he wants to

★ They disguise it as protection, they're only asking because he looks so pale- definitely not because they crave the feeling of his fangs in their veins, of his body pressed against theirs

★ The other ghoulettes do something similar, though they actually want to help. They certainly don't hate the feeling either and they make sure he knows that

★ All four of the ghouls praise him while he feeds. Letting him know he's doing a good job, letting him know how good it feels

★ Swiss and dew have no problem demanding he bites them, copia always gives in too

★ Swiss goes so pliant when he gets bitten, it relaxes him so fast.

★ Sweet phantom has taken a page from their playbook and tries to demand it, but it ends up coming off so whiny, so needy. He still gets bit in the end tho

[primaviva]

PERSONAL HEATER

PAIRING: gwen stacy x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: it’s getting a little cold in queens, and gwen doesn’t mind being your personal heater. even tho her methods are… unique.

WARNINGS: soft makeout, rambling about gwens hands part ??? pretty much just fluff so enjoy.

the weather was transitioning into fall, bringing a noticeable chill to the air. you and gwen found yourselves perched atop a building, observing the sky as it transformed from a warm orange hue to a deep indigo during the sunset. the past week had been marked by relentless rain, causing flash floods and heavy downpours throughout the city. everyone was equipped with boots and oversized umbrellas, their clothes drenched from the constant showers.

don’t get it twisted, you love this type of weather. watching the rain out the window, getting comfy and cozy under a blanket watching a fall movie, and so on. but it did have its cons.

like for one, how cold it is.

but that didn’t stop you from enjoying the weather, and gwen knew that. and so, she sent you a text, telling you to be ready and that she was coming over. what you didn’t expect was for ghost-spider to be outside your window with a hand out for you.

and that’s how you ended up where you are now. gwen had taken you to one of her favorite high places in queens— a place she also knew you enjoyed which is why she loved to take you so many times. especially, during times like this where the weather was breathtaking in its own beautiful way.

as a gentle breeze sent shivers down your spine, goosebumps formed on your arms, causing your skin to grow cold. you instinctively rubbed your arms in an attempt to generate some warmth, catching gwen's attention.

"feeling cold?" gwen asked sweetly, noticing your discomfort. she gracefully slid her toned arm around your waist, pulling you closer to her. her hands began to rub your arms in a comforting motion, enveloping you in her soothing warmth. "you're freezing," she whispered against your skin, planting a tender kiss on your cheek. the touch of her lips sent a delightful tingling sensation through your body, contrasting with the chill in the air. "you shouldn't have dressed up in just a skirt and that sad excuse of a sweater."

your eyebrows furrowed, annoyance flickering in your gaze as you shot her a playful glare in response to her comment about your outfit.

"hey!" you quipped, turning your head to face her, ready to offer a witty retort. however, the raised eyebrow she flashed at you caused your irritation to melt away, replacing it with a giggle. "i wore this skirt for you, so i’m not tryna hear it," you playfully declared, turning your gaze forward and playfully tugging at your skirt. "but now, i'm starting to regret it. my legs feel like those icicles hanging from car mirrors."

as you leaned against gwen, you could feel the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your back, her body pressed intimately against yours. the breeze outside was chilly but gwen's body was anything but.

a mischievous glint danced in gwen's eyes as she pulled you even closer, burying her face in your shoulder. "for me?" she asked, her voice laced with playfulness. "why would you even regret wearing that skirt? you look so pretty in it."

blushing, you instinctively covered your cheeks in an attempt to hide your flustered state.

"i know," you replied, a hint of newfound confidence in your voice, though your veins pulsed with nervous energy at her compliment. "but it doesn't make my legs any less cold."

gwen smiled to herself without offering a direct response. instead, she reached for the end of her white gloves, seamlessly blending with her spider suit, and pulled them down to the edge of her fingertips. you watched in awe as her hands, slightly larger than yours, were unveiled. you couldn't deny that her hands were a mesmerizing sight. the contrast in size between your hands due to your height difference fascinated you. you also found yourself captivated by the delicate web of visible veins and the gentle calluses on her fingers, which added a touch of personality and undeniable attractiveness. especially considering you were the girlfriend of a drummer.

"maybe i should warm them up," gwen winked, her gaze filled with a playful suggestion. she placed her hands on your legs, and your eyes widened as you felt the warmth of her palms against your skin. you were beginning to feel like a melting popsicle.

gwen's hands glided up and down your legs, generating heat through the gentle friction of her touch. each slow and tender stroke sent shivers down your spine, making it difficult to focus on anything other than the sensation of her calloused fingertips and the delightful stirrings they made you feel.

"that's... that's actually working," you mumbled, your gaze fixated on her hands as they caressed your thighs, leaving a trail of penetrating warmth with each stroke. "feels nice."

"it does?" gwen asked, genuine surprise evident in her voice. she made no effort to conceal her pleased demeanor as she continued to stroke your thighs. each movement was deliberate and firm, her fingers teasing the sensitive flesh of your skin with every caress. unable to resist, you tilted your head to the side, leaning against her to draw closer.

you lifted your head, meeting gwen's gaze in surprise. her eyes locked onto yours as she continued lazily rubbing your thighs, taking in your beauty with an appreciative gaze. her hair cascaded in a messy yet enchanting manner, the short strands framing her face and making her watercolor eyes glow as they delved into your soul. a smile graced your lips, followed by an exhale that formed a white mist in the freezing weather.

gwen's gaze intensified, her eyes fixed on your full lips, captivated by your bottom lip gently pushed out. slowly, she leaned in, her warm hands gradually shifting away from your cold thighs as your bodies drew closer together.

with only centimeters between your lips, gwen's breath danced teasingly against yours, contrasting with the cold air that brushed against your exposed arms. as her attention shifted from your thighs to your lips, you held your breath, anticipation coursing through your veins, eager to discover her next move.

her hair cascaded over her shoulders as she smiled warmly, a mischievous smirk stretching across her face.

"don't worry," gwen assured you, her voice filled with confidence. "i've got an idea."

with boldness, she leaned forward, placing a hand behind your head, drawing your faces closer together. closing the remaining short distance, her lips gently met yours, initiating a tender yet passionate kiss.

gwen skillfully parted your lips with her tongue, delicately exploring your cold mouth, savoring the sweet yet familiar taste of your lips. her grip on the nape of your neck tightened, pulling you closer as she sensually sucked on your lower lip, causing a surge of warmth and desire to rush through your veins. her breath, warm against the chilled sensation inside your mouth, created an intoxicating contrast, yet you still instinctively rocked your body against hers.

the moment felt surreal, almost dream-like, as gwen's warmth enveloped you, sending waves of relief coursing through every fiber of your being. your heart raced within your chest, your breath quickened with each passing second, as you savored every exquisite second of gwen's soft lips against yours. your hands tenderly ran through her hair, taking in her beauty.

she continued to kiss you, pulling you even closer, melding you two together. the heat emanating from her body warmed you from head to toe, your heart pounding in your chest, and your breath quickening with each passing moment.

gwen released a satisfied sigh against your lips, causing the goosebumps on your legs to dissolve into a thrilling warmth. it felt as though you were melting under her touch. from your ankles to your thighs, and all the way up to your chest, a surge of heat and fire coursed through your wintry skin, extinguishing the chill.

reluctantly, gwen pulled away, leaving a faint imprint of her lips on yours. "better?" she asked you, her voice barely above a whisper.

"sooo much better," you managed to utter, your hands instinctively holding the sides of her face. your own face blazed with heat, contrasting with the cold breeze that brushed against your skin.

gwen tilted her head, her gaze fixed on your flushed cheeks, a slight blush gracing her own face. she felt a sense of pride for her bold actions, knowing the courage it took to lean in and initiate the whole thing.

"glad to be of service," she sighed, her eyes sparkling with joy. moving closer, she pressed your head against her chest, her fingers running through your hair.

there was something primal about her touch, something that made you feel safe and secure as she enveloped you. her warm skin pressed against your cold frame, leaving a trail of sultriness wherever her hands roamed. your lips curled into a smile as you looked up at her, appreciative of how observant and gentle she is with you.

"maybe we should head inside now?" gwen suggested, rubbing her hands together.

you scoffed, noticing that she, too, was affected by the cold. "yeah, it's getting late, and i'm not tryna die of hypothermia," you muttered.

gwen giggled before wrapping her arms around you, rubbing them against your body to generate as much heat as possible.

she then pulled back, slipping her white gloves back on. your eyes followed her movements as she adjusted her web slinger on her wrist, her long and slender fingers working meticulously. the blonde shot you a look, raising an eyebrow and tilting her mouth to the side, giving you the feeling she was about to do something you wouldn’t like too much.

"what?" you mouthed, a small laugh escaping your lips as you observed her mischievous expression.

however, gwen remained silent, her actions speaking louder than words. she scooped you up in her arms, holding you in a bridal embrace, and you gasped in surprise. pausing to gaze down at your face, a blush tinted her cheeks as she admired your beauty.

"i can't let my beautiful girlfriend freeze to death," she whispered in response, jokingly.

"i can't stand you," you mumbled playfully, hiding your face behind your hands.

"oh, really?" she teased, a playful glimmer in her eyes.

with a sly smirk, she wiggled her eyebrows and leaned down, her lips hovering near your ear.

"and just in case you get cold again," she murmured, her warm breath sending shivers down your spine, "i don't mind being your personal heater."

god, she was going to be the death of you.

with effortless strength, she held you with one hand while the other pulled down her mask. shooting a web towards the nearest building, she initiated the familiar routine. you clung to her tightly, burying your head in the crook of her neck, holding on for dear life.

if gwen hadn't already melted your heart with her soft touch and her warm smile, then she definitely had now.

DO NOT STEAL, COPY, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK. ALL WRITING IS @PRIMAVIVA.