#need to make room for him hehehehe

[reikunrei]

LOOK LOOK LOOK LOOK LOOK AT HIM LOOK AT HIM OH I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM!!!!

[i-cant-sing]

Yandere Batfam x reader who cant feel pain

HEhehehe i just remembered a disease and I just had to write about a reader with it x yandere batfam.

Have you guys heard of CIPA? Its "Congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis" which is basically a genetic condition when a patient cant feel pain to any noxious stimulus and can also not sweat, and yall are probably like "but SNoWWW, that doesnt like a diSEase. More like a superpower!!!" um no. You need to be able to feel pain or else you wont know what part of your body has been injured and get help before its too late. You could have thumbtack plunged in your foot and u wouldnt know unless it got infected and u probably saw ur foot changing color.

And now yall are like "but SNoWw, the anhidrosis part, where u cant sweat, sounds nice! who would to look like a sweaty pig in this age????" NO! Sweating is a necessary physiologic phenomenon because it lets your body cool down as it releases heat. If you dont sweat, you'd overheat and DIE!

Okay now that we've covered the basic info, lets get into it:

So, Batfam finds out about reader when she's just running into danger with little to no care for self preservation, and they dismiss it as you being just another dumb teen wanting to be hero and "change the world". Time passes by and Bruce is impressed by your passion and decides to take you under his wing.

It isnt until months later that Bruce discovers something odd about your behaviour. You were standing in the kitchen with the rest of the batkids, laughing and having a good time when he saw Dick had pulled out a hot pan of cookies from the oven and placed it on the aisle. The pan slipped, and without thinking, you had grabbed the hot pan with your bare hands very calmly and placed it back on the aisle, without so much as a hiss of pain or even a sweat.

And now that he thinks about it, Bruce has never seen you sweat. Not during training, not during summer, not even when after you ran laps around the mansion.

With a quick search on the Internet, he finds out about the disease and of course its Dick who he confides in first about his suspicions. Soon, the rest of the batfam has heard the rumours and now they're all watching you keenly to see if its true.

But Jason is the one who tests out the theory quickly by spilling some hot tea on your hand when you were busy talking to Tim about the importance of sleep. The room goes dead silent as they watch your hand turn red, yet you fail to react. It took you a few seconds to realise that they're all looking at you, and when you follow their gaze, it takes you a few seconds to react.

Or fake a reaction.

You shriek, pulling your reddening hand as you run to the sink and run it under cold water, your mind trying to come up with an excuse. But you know its too late when Bruce's hand comes to clasp your shoulder, pulling you away from the sink as his eyes examine your injured hand and... you.

"Bruce I-"

"I know, Y/n." He gives you assuring nod, carefully bandaging your hand as you sat in his office. "You have CIPA, hm?"

You looked down. Why bother lying? He's Batman, he'll find out anyways.

Bruce lifted your head and smiled gently at you. "Its okay. I'm not disappointed in you. I just... you could've told me." You shook your head. "If I did, you would've treated me differently... like a freak."

He sighed. "You are different, but I would've never treated you like a freak. You're not a freak. If anything, between us, I'm more of a freak than you." He was talking about being a hero, but you giggled at the thought of him referring to being a rich dude who cosplays in spandex.

Bruce cupped your cheek and smiled. "I promise, no one will treat you like a freak. But we will have to take some precautions for your safety."

-

He lied. You've never felt more like a freak than you do now.

Every single day would start off with Dick waking you up and sticking a thermometer in your mouth because he needs to make sure that you're not overheating, even though Bruce has set a thermostat in your room that he controls and he's programmed it to turn your room temperature change by the hour.

Then Dick would start checking you all over for any bruises or injuries, even a scratch, that you may have caused yourself in your sleep. Originally, Damian was the one who had a whole checklist as he examined your body, but that all ended the moment you smacked him when he asked you to lift your shirt. Dick would just have you go and check yourself in the bathroom and trust you when you said you're all good. Also, you're much nicer to Dick than you are to the rest of the brothers (its his puppy dog eyes and that sweet voice that compels you to do as he asks. He's just too nice.)

Dick would then lead you to down for breakfast with the family, where Alfred already has your glucometer out because of course, they must check your blood sugar level every day, lest they find out you're diabetic or something. Only then would you be served your meal, which is a highly nutritous, perfeclty seasoned, balanced dish because they want to make sure you dont have any vitamin deficiencies (because how would they know???? you dont feel pain). But you cant eat just yet. No no, whichever brother is closer, most often Jason, will first taste your food to make sure its not too hot to consume (because you dont realise you've burned the roof of your mouth that one time when Tim ate a slice of pizza that was fresh out of the oven and huppahhuffpuhh the morsel out). Jason would then give you the go to eat and you finally do. You make sure to finish the whole plate (because otherwise Bruce will make note of it and then interrogate you "medically" why you didnt feel like eating all of it?)

After breakfast, while the rest of the batkids get to go to school and work, you dont (because Bruce thinks that your immune system could be weak and he cant risk you catching any diseases from the outside.) No, you get a special trip to the infirmary where Bruce and Alfred do a more thorough medical check up, taking your vitals, JOTTING IT DOWN, while Alfred hooks you up to an IV drip of vitamins. And even though they go to such extents to ensure that you're healthy, they still take you to a skilled doctor once a week for regular check ups. Bruce wanted to keep the doctor in the house to do daily check ups, but you talked him out of it that you dont want to feel like a lab rat who has her blood taken every day. Once a week is fine, Bruce.

Once the medical check up is done, Bruce would then take you with him, either to Wayne enterprises where you sit in his office as he imparts you "business education that no school can teach you." which you believe because... well he has managed to triple the Wayne wealth even after his parents death. If he's working from home, then he'll let you accompany him in his home office where you can either read a book he chose for you (because Bruce prefers to homseschool you himself) or do a puzzle/case he created specifically for you. If he's working in the batcave, then he'll let you tag along but you can only work here by brainstorming or doing some computer research, but in no way are you allowed to ever go on field and fight. No, not since your last incident.

Just 2 months ago, you were patrolling with Jason (because Bruce refused to let you go alone now. He just wont risk it) and you encountered some bad guys who were a little more well equipped than you two had expected. A fight broke out, and in the process you got hurt badly. Of course, you didnt realise it because you didnt feel any of the punches or the bone fracturing. Jason could only look at you in dread as you smashed your head against the villain's head until the guy passed out, all while your nose bled, you were covered in bruises from top to bottom, AND you had a bone sticking out of your arm.

"Jay? I think I'm hurt?" You asked as blood coated your teeth.

After that, Bruce forbid you from going out on the field altogether because you just dont know when to stop. If it werent for bones sticking out or blood dripping down your face, you wouldnt know that you've been injured.

Anyways, at lunch, almost everyone has returned from work/school and you get yet another balanced meal (temperature tested by another brother). You're now scheduled for some exercises, usually conducted by Damian (under Dick's supervision because otherwise, you'd just be smacking that devil's spawn.) You guys use the gym in the basement, where Damian makes you run on the treadmill for some time, during which he does not take his eyes off you once because he needs to know when he should stop you, especially since you dont sweat or are even huff. If he didnt keep time, you could probably run for a long time and not realise that your legs or lungs are begging you to stop and take a break. As you hop off the machine, he's immediately taking your temperature. He does it after every exercise he makes you do.

After that is done, you spend time with Tim who likes to have you try on little gadgets that should "help you feel pain", but so far, he hasnt had any luck (but he doesn seem to be doing good in disguising trackers in your daily wear things). Oh and Damian loves to join in because he gets to sneak up on you and prick you with needles to help Tim see if your sensory pathways work. They dont, but you dont need your pain receptors to detect Damian coming up behind you as you smack him when he tries to prick you.

Then dinner is served, and then you're ushered straight to bed where Dick, or more often- Bruce has you do a self check like the one Dick does in the morning, but Bruce also makes sure to check your eyes to see if you "accidentally scratched your cornea" or whatever, tucks you in, tells you that he's so proud of you for how youre handling this and that you can come to him anytime, for anything. He kisses your forehead, wishes you goodnight, and leaves.

Half an hour later, Jason sneaks into your room with the goodies- junk food and video games. You two have the strongest bond because Jason is the one who treats you the most normal, and Jason does it partly to piss off Bruce but partly because he cares about your mental health. He knows it cant be good for you to be cooped up in the mansion under supervision like a bird in a gilded cage.

So sometimes, he sneaks you out of the mansion and takes you out on late night rides on his bike. You can even watch him fight villains, but you're sat far away and can never interferre.

Unfortunately for you two, this sneaking out will have to end because Bruce had recently decided to set up some cameras in your room because he wanted to make sure you slept well without any abnormal breathing patterns. Bruce hopes he doesnt have to use restraints on you, because he's not blind. He knows you're uncomfortable with this intricate routine and knowing your impulsive self, you'd probably break your own bones to get out of these restraints. And then he'll be forced to use sedatives and he really doesnt wanna rely on drugs... he likes your company when you're not droopy.

And as Bruce had anticipated, you broke down. You finally tried to leave, and he could see the color draining your face as you realised that there is no leaving.

"Why isnt the door opening?" You asked Bruce, as his four sons slowly surrounded you.

"You dont have to run away, Y/n-" He tried to calm you down but you flinched away, eyes wide as you looked at him like he was going to harm you.

"Bruce, why isnt the fucking door opening?" Your voice trembled, shooting him teary glare before focusing your eyes back on the boys who were closing in on you.

"You're meant to stay here, inside, where its safe." He answered, heart aching at the alarmed stance you took, your fight-or-flight was going to kick in. He took another step towards you, hands raised in surrender. "We can keep you safe-" thats all it took for you to bolt as the boys began chasing you. Realistically, you knew you couldnt escape them but something about their intensely concerned calls for your name had you jumping out of the window.

Glass shattered and sharp shards embedded themselves in your skin and feet, but you didnt react to them. No, your brain wasnt screaming in pain, it was screaming for you to get out!

Adrenaline pumped you to run into the dark woods surrounding the mansion, but you were soon knocked to the ground by Dick, who cushioned your fall by placing you on top of him as his hands wrapped around your form like a cage. "Y/n, calm down and listen-"

You began thrashing in his arms, screaming in agony. "Let ME GO! YOU'RE HURTING ME-!" Dick's arms loosened instinctively and you took that as a chance to elbow him in the throat and run, thanking some deity for letting Dick forget that you cant feel pain.

But your relief is short lived as Damian catches you and pushes you to the ground harshly. "Damian! Be careful! She could break a bone-"

"Bones can heal, Drake." Damian barked back, pulling you up before he pushed you against tree. "Let me go, you maniac-" Damian's hand clamped around your throat, making you shut up. "You're the one who's a maniac. Look at you! You've fucking hurt yourself because if your astounding stupidity!"

You whimpered, clawing at his hand wrapped around your throat. "Dami- p-please let go- you're hurting me!" You cried out, but your eyes went wide as he squeezed your throat and bared his teeth at you. "Not falling for it, dumbass." So... fooling Damian wasnt as easy a feat as it was fooling Dick.

You stopped the act and looked at him dead serious. "Let me go, Damian, or-"

"Or what?"

Or what? Or what? Did he think you were out of options? Out of escape plans?

You dont know why, but that triggered something inside you.

Damian and Tim could only watch as you suddenly slammed the back of your head against the tree. "Y/n-" He gasped in horror as you leaned your head forward before slamming it back against the hard rough surface. This time, Damian's hand that was wrapped around your neck felt your blood around his fingers.

"Its my life and I get to decide how I should live it." You sneered before raising your head again to bash it, but Damian's hand quickly slipped from your neck to the back of your head, cushioning it when you smacked it back, the skin on the back of his hand breaking as it made contact with the bark.

You pushed him away and tried to make a run for it, but Tim grabbed your wrist. You tried to pull away, but he had a death grip on it. "Y/n, stop! You need to listen-"

"Oh is that so? I think I need this." You used your other hand to punch yourself in the face (because Tim would've dodged it if you punched him), making your nose bleed. But you didnt feel any pain, and now you were acting like a super soldier zombie that has no concept of self preservation who is going through fucked up lengths to prove her point.

Your eyes caught the sight of a glass shard poking out of your thigh. "Wanna see something cool?" You pulled out the shard, not paying mind to the blood oozing out. "Y/n, stop-" Tim begged, and you saw Damian froze in the back as you raised the shard.

They didnt know what your next target was- slashing your wrists, slitting your throat, or stabbing your stomach, but fortunately, they didnt have to find out as Jason came up behind you and injected you with a tranquilliser.

Sadly, you never felt the prick or sensed the hero sneaking up behind you.

thoughts? also, what other diseases would u guys like me to write for. i just adore these cool medical abnormalities lol

[bunnis-monsters]

hi can you do a jealous monsterxreader? hehehehe where the monster becomes jealous of the reader's friend.

NSFW

warning: somnophilia, dubcon, oral(f!receiving), breeding, slight yandere behavior

If he hadn’t of seen it with his own four eyes, the monster living under your bed might not have believed it.

There was a male in your room, laughing with you, touching you… being way too familiar with you for his liking.

You had been living in the home for a few years now, and he had come to see you as a sort of mate. So it was almost disrespectful that you brought another… male into your nest.

Although the male did not try and mate with you, the monster still stared at it with utter hatred. If your friend didn’t leave soon, he would not be able to hide his presence any longer, because he would slaughter him.

Thankfully, your friend got a call from his roommate asking to be let in, so he left. A soft purr emanated from his chest as he watched the man leave.

Now it was just you and him, like it was supposed to be. Other people being in the picture only made things complicated. When it was just you, scrolling through your phone and trying to get off all on your own, he could relax, his cock hardening at the scent of your arousal.

His poor mate always had trouble making herself cum, so he climbed into your bed once you went to sleep unsatisfied.

He rubbed his face against your neck, making sure his scent covered you before pushing your wet panties to the side.

Soft, long licks to your cunt had you squirming in your sleep, whining bit. His long, tentacle like tongue could reach the parts of you that you couldn’t, making you cum easily.

Usually, he’s just help you get off before stroking his cock over your pussy and cumming all over your clit before putting your panties back on… but tonight he was feeling possessive, snarling slightly as he inhaled the male’s scent still lingering in the air.

“Mine…” he murmured as held onto your hips, positioning his thick cock at your entrance, rubbing against it. “Gotta claim you… shh…”

He shoved his tongue into your mouth, exploring it thoroughly before pulling away to smile down at your sleeping form.

Being the monster under your bed, he had a sleeping agent in his spit. You wouldn’t wake up now, no matter how hard he fucked you.

He impaled you with his cock, a purr rumbling in his chest as he comforted you with sweet, loving kisses to your neck and chest. You were his mate, he didn’t want to hurt you after all, he just needed to make sure others knew who you belonged to!

Once you loosened up a bit, he rolled his hips into yours, whimpering into your ear. You were just so tight and warm, and all he wanted to do was breed with his beloved! Just the image of your belly nice and swollen with his young was enough to have him rutting into you uncontrollably like the monster he was.

His dark skin glistened with sweat as your pussy clenched around him. He fucked you through your orgasm, cooing as he whispered praise to you.

“My precious little mate, taking me so well… oh, how I love you… no one will take you from me, I promise I’ll have you swollen with my young by the end of the month…”

With that, he painted your walls with his hot, thick cum, filling you until it spilled out onto the bed. He purred, nipping and sucking on your neck as he rode out his high, making sure you were covered in hickeys. He was extra careful with his sharp teeth, unable to even think of hurting his love.

No one would be able to question if you had a lover now… you were absolutely drenched in his scent, and he couldn’t be happier to see your satisfied expression as he cleaned you up and tucked you back into bed.

Keeping his mate happy was all he wanted, really, and he was ready to reveal himself, come the following night.

Hopefully… you’d understand and accept your time… because you were his mate, bonded to him forever.

Whether you liked it or not… but by the way you cling to him as he attempted to pull away, you sleeping face pouting slightly, he knew that you would love him… and all the ways he could pleasure you.

[writersdrug]

For the alpha/omega one, forced proximity on one of his missions he gets sent on, and she is basically standard issue along with his weapon. She’s around his stuff/in his bunk 24/7, her sent slowly permeating everything, eventually his mask, driving him crazy/rut if that’s interesting. She gets captured, he starts to realize how much he’d unconsciously relied on her, goes feral, tears enemy base apart and she nurses him back to health? Hehehehe I love feral könig

Oh, he's pissed.

Warnings: mentions of violence, attempted sexual assault (very minor and brief, guy gets what's coming to him)

When Ridgeback had informed the team that they had a new assignment, König was sighing in relief. Finally, a moment away from that damned omega. A chance to prove that he didn't need some weak, not-so-self-sustainable thing to "improve his performance" (if anything, you were just making him grumpier, with how often you complained about the standard-issued nesting material. He already said he'd buy you some new blankets, ok?!).

But then, Ridgeback announced that any partners belonging to the soldiers would be included on the deployment. Meaning omegas. Meaning you.

You weren't happy, either. You thought you were going to get an entire two weeks to yourself, including the entirety of König's room and bathroom and a chance to roll around in his clothes and scent uninterrupted. You'd get to chat it up with the sweet beta corporals that accompanied you to the mess hall in your Alpha's absence. But now? Being flown out to god-knows-where with König, a.k.a. Chuckles? With even fewer nesting materials of an even lesser quality? Great. Just perfect.

König hated how you were everywhere. He hated how your scent, ocean breeze and warm sandalwood, had clung to every article of clothing he owned. He hated how you built your (rather lackluster) nest in the top bunk with a literal wall of pillows around you - he wasn't even in there with you, why were you adding insult to injury? He hated that you were even here in the first place. Who's idea was this?! Now he has to growl at anybody that approaches his table in the dingy cafeteria where the two of you eat in silence, or sit in in the briefing room with you squished to near death in the corner, just to keep you away from other alphas. Not to mention, projecting his scent to cover yours is very inconvenient, you should really stop smelling so nice.

It was a breath of fresh air when they finally landed at the objective rally point for the mission - but the gunshots and acrid smell of blood did little to drown out the thoughts of you. What were you doing without him there to scowl at you? He didn't like the idea of some random beta from this random base taking you to meals, but it was better than an Alpha, he supposed. Your scent clung to his mask, and although it made his senses keener and sharper, he really wished it would just go away, so he could stop thinking of you and focus on the mission. Thankfully, it didn't last too long.

Thank goodness he was still in overdrive when the heli touched base, though - because he quickly found out that you were not where you should be: in his room. He'd have half a mind to think you ran off to do your own thing, if it wasn't for the sour scent in the room, rather than your usual sweet, slightly angry notes. You didn't leave intentionally.

Everyone was instantly on edge when he burst out of the room, nostrils flaring and pupils shrunken in his rage. Horangi rushed after him as König stormed throughout the base, following the trail of your scent (he has to make sure his friend doesn't kill anyone - innocent, that is). He hadn't claimed you yet; a decision he was regretting more and more by the second. What kind of Alpha was he? Leaving you alone on a foreign base without a nice, toothy mark on your neck. No, he didn't need you (🙄), but you were his. He should have made that clear. He didn't like it when people tried to take his omega.

It didn't take long before he heard you - some idiot Alpha had dragged you into the back of a humvee, and König could see your limbs kicking and scratching underneath the man (who had a decent, bloody scratch on his face - good on you). Your snarls and hisses echoed through the cracked windows - which König promptly shattered as he smashed his arm through it, grabbing the sergeant by his collar and pulling him out through the broken glass. You suddenly froze at the sound of the man being punched relentlessly, smelling a familiar cinnamon, woodsmoke, and earth, combined with the smell of blood. König's scent smelled like straight blood when he was angry, and it was terrifying, even to you.

Horangi was quick to interject König and his death sentence to the sergeant, pulling him off of the smaller Alpha - a bold move, even dangerous, but their pack bond was thicker than iron, and König wouldn't mistakenly swing on his friend.

Horangi shoved König back, muttering a quick "get your omega", before pulling the now-unconscious sergeant up by his armpits. "I'll do something with him."

König took a moment to clear his head, breathing in deeply and exhaling through clenched teeth. He then moved to the other side of the car with stride, yanking open the back passenger door and reaching in. You made a sound, a frightened squeak, still alert and cautious, as he promptly dragged you out from the back seat. After a quick brush of your clothes with his hand, making sure there's no lingering shards of glass on you, he tossed you over his shoulder with a grunt and made back for the barracks, leaving Horangi to deal with the soldier.

You assumed you're in deep waters with him now. König didn't say a word to you, just stormed through the halls and huffed at anyone he passes. You were a bit embarrassed by the whole ordeal: you had been dragged out, kicking and screaming (and gave a proper, internal fuck you to the surrounding personnel that did nothing) from the barracks, and now here you were, being dragged right back in - just without the protest.

He reached your shared quarters and shoved his bulky frame inside, kicking the door shut behind him. You were about to explain yourself when he slipped you off of his shoulder and put you back on your feet - then promptly leaned down and shoved his face into your neck, inhaling rather obnoxiously while gripping you by your arms. You whined at the sudden, atypical behavior, gently pushing against his chest to get away from the behemoth of a man. He ignored it, picking you up again and carrying you into his bunk bed. He drags you in between himself and the wall, chuffing when you fit so nicely against his frame. Had you always been so comfortable? Why didn't someone convince him to hold you like this sooner?

You, on the other hand, were not as comfy. This wasn't your nest - you didn't have that stupid, grey, felt blanket that was five feet too long, nor the extra pillows you had stolen from the empty room across the hall. You didn't have your border, your flimsy wall of protection against the rest of the world. You squirmed in König's grip, shoving against his taut abdomen and trying to climb over him. He growled, a sound that had you bristling for a moment, but you pushed past it.

"Gimme a sec-"

"Schatz, please-"

"Just a minute!"

He huffed and let you go; you scrambled over him and out of his bed, the thick, muscular cords of his abdomen tensing as you used it to support your weight. He lay on his back and sighed. He just saved you from some cocksure, weaker Alpha - weren't you thankful? I mean, really - this was truly insulting. Here he was (oh, look, his fist was bleeding from smashing the car window, didn't that show you he was a good protector? A good mate?), fresh off of deployment, fighting the demons of the world just for you, and you had the audacity to turn your nose away from him and shuffle back to your precious little nest. How sweet of you. Very appreciative, liebe. Why don't you-

He was torn from his thoughts when a blanket was tossed over him. He pulled it back, confused, as he felt you shoving pillows into his side. You tucked them around him, forming a barrier around the side of him that was closest to the edge of the bed. He watched as you fussed for a bit, beating and fluffing the pillows until they were just right. You then tossed one more onto the bed - one that was wearing his shirt as a case, which had him melting - and climbed overtop of him again.

His chest rumbled with an affectionate sound as you took a damp bathroom towel and began wrapping it around his busted hand. You held it against your chest as you curled into his side once more, not protesting or scrunching your face when he wrapped his other hand around your waist and rubbed your back. He preened when he felt the reverberations of your purr against his hand, your sweet scent filling the air and causing him to relax his shoulders and neck muscles. It permeated his brain and made his Alpha sigh with relief, happiness, and satisfaction. Your scent was finally untainted by that bitter, angry note that you usually had.

"Thanks for... today." you said, deciding to leave the details unspoken. "Sorry about the-"

"Don't be sorry." he rumbled, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your lower back. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"You couldn't be."

"Well, now I am."

You sighed, letting your eyes flutter shut. He's not so bad... getting sent off by my family to some random military company was bad, sure, but... my Alpha's a good one. This could be good.

"You're purring very loudly, schatz."

"Shut up."

[emotionoitme]

trouble

trouble - coldplay

part 3 of don’t call my name

warnings: angst, hurt + arguing but it’s steamy, drinking and clubbing, some violence (she gets grabbed and threatened but nothing happens), guard dog carmy bark bark, carmy throws hands & brief mention of blood. comfort sex, sappy and sweet but hot, it’s unprotected what else did you expect from me, dirty talk, some drama with claire i’m sorry 

wc: 9.0k

a/n: so…i told everyone this was going to be 3 parts when it actually needs 4. i fear i am just too much of a yapper. i love these two and think i needed to do the story justice. so stay tuned for ch4. hehehehe. hope u enjoy!!! (it is going to get angsty) 

playlist

carmen berzatto is a shitty communicator. 

this we know to be a fact. 

it’s just, sometimes when there are a thousand thoughts swarming around his head, it’s easier to not say anything at all. that makes sense, right? 

the girl wakes up the next morning to find herself alone. the plush king sized bed almost mocks her with emptiness.

she knows that carmy is a hard worker. a michelin star kitchen doesn’t just run itself. still, it might be nice to get a note, or text, or anything that would reassure her last night wasn’t just some fluke to to him. 

the silence of the apartment is almost deafening. she trudges down the stairs and walks to the kitchen, pouring herself what was left in the coffee pot from carmy’s early morning. 

she feels lethargic, sore, and a little stung from waking up alone. no text or anything, she thinks. 

but there was still time. maybe he was just really busy today. she pushes away the negative thoughts and slaps both of her cheeks lightly, trying to wake herself up. it would be a good day. he would text her or call her when he got a break. and they would talk about it. she puts a smile on her face at the delusion and hops back up the stairs to get dressed for work. 

the girl tries to busy herself when she gets there, picking up extra slack from coworkers and bustling around to finish projects. trying to not check her phone. 

she goes on lunch break with no text from him. 

gets off work at 5 with no text from him. 

throws his sheets in the wash and remakes his bed with no text from him. 

eats dinner with no text from him. 

watches a movie at 9:30 with, you guessed it. 

she throws her phone back onto the bed angrily, the false wall of positivity built in her mind beginning to crumble. she’s tired and annoyed, so she shuts off the movie and buries herself in bed, trying to push thoughts of him out of mind so she could sleep. 

she tells herself that they can talk tomorrow. but then, tomorrow comes and it’s the same nothing, almost like she didn’t even have a roommate. 

three silent days go by until the girl decides she’s had enough, and plans to wait up for him and have a talk. maybe he just wasn’t a texting type of guy, she tries to comfort herself. 

she grabs her book and a throw blanket and camps out on the couch, waiting for him to get home. 

it’s close to midnight before she hears keys jingling and the lock turning. her heart drops inexplicably but she remains nonchalant and continues reading her book until she hears him take a few steps inside. 

she turns her head, watching him talk on the phone as he slides his shoes off. he doesn’t notice her in the dim light of the living room, and his brows are furrowed, hand running through his messy curls. 

“yeah. yeah, i’m- i know….sorry again,” a pause, “okay. i’ll see you saturday. bye, claire.” 

her eyebrows shoot up at the name, the sinking feeling with in her stomach increasing tenfold. this motherfucker. 

carmen makes it halfway into the living room before he notices her on the couch, slightly startling at her presence, mumbling a “shit”

her face feels hot, but not in the good way she had grown accustomed to the past few weeks. 

“hey,” he greets softly, eyes looking tired, shoulders slumped. 

she just glares at him and goes back to reading her book. 

he says her name. she ignores him.

the man lets out a small scoff, stepping closer to the couch, hand on his hip. 

“what, you, uh, ignoring me?” 

she glances up at him and there’s a small smirk on his face, like he thinks it’s joke or something. 

she opens her mouth to say something mean, but stops herself. takes a deep breath. recenters. 

she slams her book shut and turns to face him. 

“i’m going to bed.” 

the man’s small smirk drops, watching as she shoots up from the couch and starts heading towards the stairs. he grabs her wrist to stop her. 

“hey,” he says, firmer this time. 

she whips around and pulls her arm back. 

“what?” she snaps. 

his brows furrow at her tone of voice. he pauses for a second, eyes raking down her face, taking in her expression. 

“why are you acting like that?” he asks. 

the question does nothing but make her feel angrier. 

“because you’re being fucking confusing,” the girl exclaims, her throat growing tight.

“how am i confusing?” carmen replies with a surge of annoyance, “you woke me up the other night with…” his eyes dart down her frame, “half your fuckin’ clothes on.” he tries to sound angry, but his voice betrays him a bit. truthfully, it was like his prayers had come true when he opened his eyes to find her straddling him in underwear and a tiny little top that barely kept her chest contained. 

“yeah cause i thought you were into me,” she frustratedly sighs, “but you’re just…using me to get over claire.” 

the allegation wasn’t rooted in fact. but that’s how the girl felt, and she confuses the two in the moment. 

“don’t say that.” he snaps, “that’s not fuckin’ true in the slightest.” carmen had been done with claire for months at this point. if anything, he had been trying to use claire to get over his roommate.

“it’s been three days since we-… and you haven’t said anything,” she sighs, rubbing her forehead, feeling a headache come on. 

he knows his, and feels guiltier than she could even imagine. but he also knows she’s leaving in a few short weeks, and doesn’t want to fall any deeper than he already has for her. 

“i got busy at work.” he defends. it’s a shitty excuse, but as usual, it’s the first to come to mind. 

her eyes brows crease further. 

“you have a phone.” she chides.

“i just…i didn’t think about it,” he lies, “i’m sorry.”

she scoffs and shakes her head. 

“god, you’re so-,” another sigh, “you know, whatever, carm.” she turns from him and begins to walk up the stairs. 

he hates how his eyes glance down to her ass, peaking out from beneath a pair of short shorts. 

god he’s a fucking loser, he tells himself. 

carmy calls her name again. she ignores him. 

-

the girl slams her bedroom door behind her and throws herself onto her bed. she tries to fight the hot, angry tears that stream down her face, telling herself it doesn’t really bother her. telling herself that he’s just another stupid guy, and she can find better. this does nothing to ease the burning feeling in her chest, though, a pair of soft blue eyes flashing in her mind. thinking of the way he was rough with her while still being gentle, kissing her face and calling her sweet names. thinking of how he held her and wiped her tears and assured her that things would work out. 

fucking asshole! 

she grabs her duvet and pulls it over her head, wrapping herself tightly and burrowing into the pillow. she tells herself that she won’t make the mistake of giving into him again. wouldn’t ever grace him with her lips or fingers or sweet moans again. 

she tells herself that she doesn’t need him. she could easily find someone else that would satisfy that same feral craving she had for carmen. 

in fact, tomorrow would be friday, and she hadn’t gone out in a long time. she decides on calling up a friend and making a friday night plan to go out. drink, dance, and prove to herself that there’s better for her out there than carmy. 

the girl aggressively rubs her face of tears and shoots up out of bed, grabbing her phone to send the invitation to a girlfriend. her phone pings with a quick response, and the girl confirms her plan for the following night, already envisioning what to wear. the thought of seeing carmy tomorrow night before she goes out makes her stomach churn. the thought of seeing him at all makes it churn, actually. 

she tells herself that she only has to stick it out for another month or so. then she would go back to california and things would be normal. no more stupid boys. no more heated touches. no more whimpers being greedily devoured by hungry kisses. 

she tells herself that’s what she wants. 

it doesn’t feel genuine in the slightest. 

the following morning she rummages through her closet and picks out a couple of skimpy options. she studies herself in the mirror, holding up the various items up in front of her nude body, wondering what carmy would think of the outfits. she quickly tries to push the thought out of mind. she doesn’t care what he thinks, she reminds herself. her eyes fixate on the finger-shaped bruises scattered about her hips. she thinks of how they got there. 

her day at work seems to go impossibly slow. the girl finds herself thinking of carmen constantly, caught between hoping there would be a text from him when she would check her phone and hoping she would never hear from him again. 

her mind frequently flashes to the way he handled her a few nights ago. how he kissed her obsessively. how he held her up once her legs had given out. how he relentlessly plowed into her and called her a pretty girl and told her she was made for him. 

the thought simultaneously makes her horny and angry, something that she had never experienced so vividly until now. she wanted to slap his face, but at the same time she wanted to kiss him and grind against him and beg for him again. 

it’s entirely confusing. 

by the time 10 o clock rolls around, she begins to get ready, meticulously styling her hair and applying her makeup. she opts for a sultry, smokey look, accentuating her eyes with dark shadow and liner, glossing her pouty lips with a clear lacquer. the girl tries to hurry the routine, anxious to make it out the door before carmen gets back. 

she strips her clothes off and slips into her club apparel, then decorates her look with rings, bracelets, earrings, and a necklace. as she slides her thigh high boots on, she hears the front door open, then slam closed.

“fuck,” she harshly exhales. looks like she would have to see him after all. 

carmy racks his keys onto the hook and steps out of his shoes, taking a deep breath at the relief of being home. it’s not until he notices the light coming from upstairs that the relief is replaced with a sense of anxiety. 

he knows he needs to fix things between him and his roommate, if he could even refer to her as just that anymore. he had felt like a jackass all week, but apologies were never really his strong suit. he didn’t even know where to start. 

the man empties his pockets out onto the credenza, then begins to make his way into the living room. he stops in his tracks when he hears the click of heels descending the stairs. 

as he turns his head and catches sight of her, he fights to stifle a groan. 

she comes down clad in a tight top and mini skirt, length of her legs emphasized by black thigh high boots. his eyes rake down her body, admiring the curve of her figure and the appealing fit of the clothes. he wishes that she would dress like that all the time, but he doesn’t tell her that, instead just opting for a casual, albeit slightly strained “hey.”

she looks at him, but doesn’t reply, instead sauntering over to their bar cart and pouring herself a shot. he realizes the top is backless, and clenches his jaw a bit, trying to recenter with a deep breath. 

“you, uh…you look nice,” he clears his throat. 

she throws back the shot and shivers. 

“thanks,” her response comes dryly, walking over to grab her purse, “i’ll be back in a few hours.”

carmen feels his brain stutter, processing what she said, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“wait you, uh, you’re going out dressed like that?” he can’t help but feel a bit protective, even if she is pissed off at him. the girl scoffs. 

“i can’t really go to the club in sweatpants, carm.” 

he rubs a hand over his face, trying to keep calm. 

“you could, uh….at least put a fuckin’ jacket on or something though?” he tries to suggest kindly. his tone betrays him. 

“yeah?” she turns towards him, “why the fuck do you care?” bite in her tone. 

his eyes fall over the multiple hickeys that litter her neck, then flicker over her face, realizing how striking her features look accentuated by dark makeup. she looks angry. a little hurt. he wants to say something soothing. 

“cause i-fuck,” hand threading through his hair messily, “because i know how guys think.” 

nice. real soothing. 

“yeah? n’what do they think?” she challenges. 

that anyone would want you. that you look fucking hot wearing those tight little clothes.

carmy opts to not respond so directly, and walks closer to her. 

“i just don’t want you to get… hurt.” his tone is firm, jaw set tightly. she lets out a sardonic laugh at this. at the fact that he’s her biggest source of hurt at the moment.

“what, you think it’s funny?” he barks, “you could get fuckin’…picked up or drugged or something.” 

she rolls her eyes. 

“that’s not gonna happen. i’m going with a friend.” she snatches her purse off the credenza, fumbling through it to make sure she has her id. he takes a few steps closer. until he can smell her sweet perfume. 

“well, let me drive you guys then.” 

she shakes her head. 

“no. we’re getting a cab.” zipping up her purse and hanging it over her shoulder. 

“fuck, then call me when you get there. and when you’re leaving.” he snaps a bit, becoming a bit fed up with her attitude. 

“not gonna fuckin’ call you, carmy,” her face scrunches up in anger, “i’ll probably end up going home with someone, anyways,” she fibs, locking eyes with him, unintentionally leaning in a bit. 

“you what?” he angers, moving even closer to her, their faces mere inches apart. 

she can feel the shot she took now, eyes darting down to his lips. fuck his deodorant. the smell of it makes her want to give in.

“‘mgonna find someone tonight,” her tone lower now, lids low, “‘n they’re gonna fuck me better than you ever will.” 

he scoffs, blood boiling at her words, shaking his head, eyebrow twitching. 

“yeah, uh, that’s not gonna fuckin’ happen.” his hand comes to wrap around her hip, squeezing. his face comes closer, lips nearly ghosting hers.

“yeah?” she challenges, actively fighting to keep from diving in, eyes locked on his lips.

“yeah,” tone firm, “tell your friend you’re staying in tonight.” 

she doesn’t know why she feels so turned on. still pissed off, yes, but mostly aroused. 

she rolls her eyes and lets out a laugh to hide this, but he can tell. he can always tell by the slight flutter of her eyelids and the way she’ll part her lips. he knows that she likes when he talks to her like that. 

the girl channels all of her strength and steps away from him, opening the front door. 

“see you tomorrow,” she chimes, walking out. he calls her name as she walks away, but she ignores him. he tells himself he’s too proud to chase after her, but really he wants to do nothing more. 

as she makes her way down the hall, his eyes rake down her exposed back, settling on her shapely ass. 

this girl was going to drive him fucking crazy. 

-

carmy berzatto (2hrs): you make it there? 

missed call from carmy berzatto (1hr)

carmy berzatto (30min): call me if you need a ride home. 

the girl shuts off her phone, shoving it back in her purse and strutting to the bar counter. sure, now he cared enough to send a text. 

jealous motherfucker. 

it had been a girls night out until her friend went home with an ex boyfriend, leaving her all alone at the club. she leans over the counter, pushing her hair over her shoulder. her feet are sore from the boots she had picked out, coupled with an hour or so of nonstop dancing. 

the girl had planned to leave as soon as her friend did, but made the mistake of passing through the main room where they were playing 2000s music. she couldn’t just not dance to 2000s. 

the bartender works quickly to accommodate the numerous orders. she feels the drink she had been sipping on affecting her, comfortably bathing in the multicolored lights of the club. it was packed with people, and she had been noticing eyes on her all night. 

the girl feels a hand on her lower back, and she turns to meet the eyes of a tall man.

“hi,” he says.

“hey,” she softly replies.

he was admittedly handsome, and his muscular stature didn’t hurt to look at either. 

“can i buy you a drink?” the man asks. 

the girl softly smiles and nods. he raises his hand to flag the bartender. she was planning on getting a water, but since she wasn’t paying for it…

the stranger makes small talk with her, the two having to practically yell into each other’s ear to hear over the bass of the music. jobs, what part of town they live, compliments. not that she really cares about any of it, though she tries to. 

as he leans in to ask if she’ll dance with him, he places his hand on her waist. she tries to ignore how it doesn’t feel right. 

he’s cute, she tells herself, and i needs to stop thinking about carmy. 

the girl takes a long sip of her drink and nods softly, taking his hand and leading him to the dance floor. they squeeze through the crowd of bodies, and she turns to face him, hand on his chest. he places a hand on her lower back, and they begin to move to the beat. she takes another long sip of her drink, closing her eyes, coming closer to the man, swaying her hips. his deodorant doesn’t smell as good as carmen’s does. doesn’t comfort her like his does. 

she takes another sip, and she circles around, moving her hips, facing away from the man. the music resonates through the whole building, lights flash and change color, making her movements feel dreamlike. he places his hands on her hips. 

she wishes that she liked how it felt. 

the man presses his hips into her backside. she imagines it’s carmen, and the thought makes her bite down onto her lip. her head falls back against his chest. she thinks of her roommate’s strong arms. his tattoos. the way his face scrunched up when he fully engulfed himself in her. the girl lets out a breath. her skin feels hot and sticky in the muggy club air. she takes another long sip of alcohol, feeling lips on her neck. they feel strange and unfamiliar. it doesn’t set off that tingling sensation in her lower stomach. she groans out of frustration. 

“mmm you like that don’t you, pretty girl?” the man slurs into her ear. 

the name makes her heart drop, and all of the sudden she feels like she needs to throw up. she shoves the stranger’s hands away and stumbles forward, pushing her way out of the crowd. the floor feels like it’s tilting on an axis as she cringes at the feeling of other sweaty bodies touching her. she gets shoved into by a big group and loses her drink. 

it’s suddenly hard to breathe. the girl feels her throat tighten, her chest burning, wiping hot tears away. she fights and pushes and weaves through the crowd until she finally breaks free, making a beeline for the glowing red exit sign. the girl shoves the door open, almost tripping over the frame, and stumbles out into the cold night. 

the frigid air helps alleviate some of her nausea, skin rising in goosebumps. she trudges along the brick wall and leans her back against it, focusing on taking deep breaths. her hands run through her messy hair, pushing it out of her face, closing her eyes, trying to stop the steady flow of tears. 

this night was supposed to be fun, but all she wanted to do was go home and sleep this booze off. all she wanted was carmen. 

her hands fumble through her purse, grabbing her phone. she drops it, muttering a “shit,” and crouches down to pick it up. she squints her eyes at the light of the display, struggling to navigate to the uber app. she enters her address, cursing internally when she sees the friday night surge prices. instead, she exits uber and finds her contacts, hovering over the number of a cab company. her eyes glance towards carmen's contact, right below. 

she doesn’t want to call him. he was being an asshole, and she hates how easily he was able to get under her skin. so she dials the contact for the cab, listening to the line ring. and ring. and ring. almost infinitely, then a automated voice of “your call cannot be completed.” 

“fuck,” she curses, terminating the call. 

her eyes fixate on his name, pausing and contemplating. 

she rolls her eyes and dials it. the line rings twice and gets picked up with a raspy greeting and a “y’okay?” 

she stays silent for a second, not sure what to say. he says her name. 

“did you know that you are-” she hiccups, “s-so mean?” it’s the only thing that comes to mind. 

“are you drunk?” he asks.

“no. m’not” she argues, wiping a stray tear. 

“you sound drunk,” he retorts, “where are you? i’m coming to get you.” 

“you’re so fucking…rude. ‘nyou think you can just do whatever you want because you’re so-” hiccup, “hot… and big…you irritate me, carm,” she slurs into the line. she opens her mouth to say more, but he cuts her off by saying her name sternly. 

“you at prysm? tunnel?” 

“yeah. that one.” she hiccups again. 

“tunnel? okay, stay right there. i’m getting in my car now.” 

“ok but i’m still mad at you,” she murmurs, leaning against the cool brick. he scoffs, and starts saying something about her bad attitude, but she cuts him off by hanging up, harshly exhaling and closing her eyes tightly. the tears continue falling, so she just tries to focus on her breathing. 

a cool breeze causes her to stiffen, wrapping her arms around herself, shivering. it’s uncomfortable, but grounding. her head stops spinning so much as she begins to breathe deeply. the tears come to a steady stop, but the aching in her chest doesn’t. she wishes carmen would hold her and kiss her head. 

around fifteen minutes pass before she hears the back door of the club open. the girl keeps her eyes shut, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t bother her. though it seems she’s not so lucky tonight, unfortunately. 

“hey, you,” a deep voice says. she snaps her eyes open to find the same tall man she was dancing with earlier standing in front of her. 

she just stares at him silently, crossing her arms in front of her to help provide some modesty. 

“listen, i think we get along well. and you’re really hot,” he explains drunkenly, “why don’t i help you get home?” 

she feels icked out, trying to refrain from rolling her eyes.

“m’not interested, sorry. i have someone coming to pick me up.” 

the man scoffs. 

“you were plenty interested earlier when i bought you a drink,” taking a step closer to her, “c’mon. don’t be a tease.” he has a smirk on his face. she feels her heart begin to pound against her chest. 

carmy was right, it was a mistake to come out. she tries to take a step away from him, blocked by the hard brick wall. 

“seriously, i’m not interested,” she tries to sound assertive, “my boyfriend will be here any second so just leave me alone.” she hopes he can’t read through her lie. 

“your boyfriend?” he asks, smirk turning into a grin, “you’re a naughty girl, aren’t you? someone should fucking straighten you out.”

her heart drops to her stomach, and she feels sick all over again. she steps forward to shove past him, and he grabs her waist, slamming her back into the wall. 

“don’t fucking touch me!” she yells, grabbing his wrists and digging her nails in. he doesn’t let go. tears begin to stream down her face, heart hammering against her ribcage. she sees headlights from down the street and prays that it’s carmen, continuing to struggle against the man. 

the car speeds up to the curb and jerks to a stop, door flying open. she shuts her eyes tightly and digs her nails in hard enough to draw blood, giving a final attempt at trying to get his hands off of her. 

the girl is suddenly released as the man is jerked backwards by his shoulder. her eyes snap open and graciously land on the person she’s been wanting to see the most. 

everything happens so fast—watching in a haze as carmen practically decks the guy in the face, sending the stranger stumbling back, gripping a bloody nose. 

“you muverfuckr!” he slurs, words muffled by a dripping hand, lunging forward again. carmy shuffles back, then throws another jab square in the face. the man falls backwards onto the ground, sitting on the concrete, looking entirely disoriented. the girl gasps, feeling partially sobered by the scene. 

she watches as the stranger’s blood drips onto the pavement, then darts her gaze over to carmen. his eyes look crazed, jaw tightly locked. he begins to stalk towards the man, clenching his fists that were spotted with red. 

the girl reaches out and grabs his arm. he turns to look at her and his features immediately soften, taking in her tear-soaked cheeks and swollen lips. without thinking, he grabs her arm and pulls her into a tight embrace, arms wrapping around her in a protective bear hug. she clings to his shirt, and cries. he kisses the top of her head. 

he smells so good. smells so safe. 

“s’okay. i got you,” he soothes, “you’re okay.” the man says this as a reassurance to himself as well, rubbing her back, feeling his throat tighten and eyes water a bit. 

the stranger lay flat on his back now, clutching his bleeding nose, mumbling incoherently. 

carmen pulls back from the embrace, but keeps an arm wrapped tightly around her, ushering her to the car. she stumbles a bit, holding onto him securely. she wishes the tears would stop, but they don’t. she feels so scared. so relieved. so fucking grateful. 

he gets her into the car, shutting the door and walking around to the driver’s side. she doesn’t want to look at him when he gets in, so she hides her face in her hand, elbow leaning on the arm rest. he doesn’t say anything for the duration of the drive home either. 

she feels embarrassed, tired, and still a little mad at carmy. the whole reason she had wanted to go out and meet guys in the first place was because of his stupid situationship with claire. it was like it made her go into defense mode. 

they had been driving for about 5 minutes, before she feels a dull throbbing in her head, stomach growling, alcohol in her system making her crave greasy nasty salty food. 

she raises her head from her hand, looking at carmen. his eyebrows were knit together tightly, jaw clenched. she leans her head against the headrest as she stares at him lovingly. she loves how protective he gets over her. how strong he is. how blindingly handsome. 

but she’s still mad, of course. 

he catches her gazing at him in his periphery. he looks over, features softening as he catches her eyes momentarily.

“what’s up?” he asks, voice low.

she just looks at him. her lip pouts a bit. 

“you hungry?” comes his question, perfectly timed. 

she allows a soft smile to grace her lips at the accuracy of his guess. 

“mmhm,” she nods, “a burger sounds really good right now. and french fries.” 

he lets out a quiet chuckle, nodding his head, glancing at her again. 

“let’s get you a burger and french fries, then.” 

he turns his signal on and moves to make a quick left, pulling into a drive-thru after a few minutes.

they sit in line waiting for the order to be cooked. she glances over at his face. she wants to kiss him, a little. 

“d’yknow what the ultimate hangover food is?” she asks softly. 

he turns to face her, eyebrows raised in question, a look of amusement on his face. 

“an all american breakfast,” she murmurs with a smile.

“yeah?” he asks, “like…pancakes?”

she nods, biting her lip with a smile. he lets out a soft laugh at this.

“and bacon and eggs. and hash browns. fuck,” her eyes are closed, like she’s imagining it in front of her. this makes the man laugh a bit harder, hand coming to smooth over his face. 

“good answer,” he tells her once he stops smiling as much. 

“what’s yours?” she asks, gazing at him a bit longingly. 

“my what?” 

“your hangover cure food.”

“uh, probably…saltines?”. 

the girl lets out a laugh. 

“the alcohol upsets my stomach,” he admits. 

she laughs harder, burying her face in her hands. 

“you are so cute,” she amuses. 

he fights the heat that rushes to his face when she says this, and they pull forward to the pick up window. 

the girl takes her first bite into the greasy burger that carmen insists on paying for, and it makes her feel more human than she has all night. 

-

carmy parks the car in his assigned lot, then gets out to assist his roommate out of the car. the food helped her feel much more grounded, but she still has to cling onto his arm to be able to walk straight through the building. 

neither of them say anything. this lasts until they get back to their unit, and carmy locks the door behind them. he watches as the girl stumbles out of her shoes and crashes onto the couch. she throws an arm over her eyes and tries to push away the nausea that comes with laying down. 

“thank you,” she murmurs into her arm after a moment.

“mhm,” he responds, “told you to call me when you needed a ride, though,” shrugging off his jacket.

“i did,” she argues.

“no, you called me… way after you needed one. and you stood outside waiting for me,” his tone grows harsher.

if she wasn’t so nauseous, she’d roll her eyes. 

“i was trying to get away from all the guys that were trying to take me home,” she retorts. she means it to be teasing, but it’s clear he doesn’t take it that way by the peak she steals through her arms. 

“y’know, you-,” he scoffs, “i’m glad you think it’s fuckin’ funny because i-fuck…i was worried about you” he throws his keys onto the table, feeling angry, feeling scared. 

she throws her other arm over her face. her cheeks are hot with embarrassment. her throat suddenly feels tight at his words, like she’s going to cry again. she doesn’t say anything out of fear of her voice breaking. 

carmy chides her name, stalking over to the couch. he stands over her, expectantly waiting for a response, jaw clenching with annoyance. he nudges her arm. she moves it, revealing her tired bloodshot eyes. 

“can we not do this tonight?” she begs hoarsely, “m’so drunk.” 

“you fucking scared me,” he exclaims, grabbing his hair, “what would’ve happened if i didn’t get there in time, huh?” 

“i know,” she sobs, tears now freely flowing, hiding her face in her arms again. 

his heart breaks a bit, watching her cry like that. but he feels so angry that she put herself at risk like that. 

“you-” he stops. takes a deep breath to recenter. “you’re right. let’s not do this tonight.” 

she peaks at him through her arms, feeling completely pathetic. she watches him turn on the small lamp by the couch. he drapes a throw blanket over her before turning to walk upstairs. 

tears continue inexplicably trailing down her cheeks, as her deep breathing begins to lul her into sleep. 

an hour passes. 

she shifts to try and get comfy to no avail. 

30 more minutes. 

everything was so uncomfortable. 

she sits up quickly and shoots off the couch, beelining for the stairs, desperate to get the crunchy makeup and scratchy clothes off. 

she falls up the stairs in her sleepy scramble, knocking against the wall loudly. slowly stands up, holds onto the rail, and exhales before continuing to ascend much more carefully. 

as she walks down the hallway, she unashamedly begins to strip out of her clothing, leaving a trail that leads to the bathroom, telling herself she would take care of it later. she feels sick and lethargic, needing a shower immediately. 

the girl leaves the bathroom light off as she draws a cold shower and steps in right away, drenching herself in the frigid water. she tenses, letting out a sharp exhale, feeling almost immediately soothed. 

it’s as if the water washes away everything bad from the night. she meditatively goes through her routine, cleaning herself. cleaning away everything that happened tonight. cleaning away the man who touched her on the dancefloor, outside of the club. 

the shame and embarrassment that begins to seep in as the alcohol wears off doesn’t wash away as easily. she needs to apologize, she knows that.

the girl dries herself off and wraps her hair in a towel as she walks back to her room, feeling more of a pep in her step following the refreshing shower. she bends down to pick up the strung out clothing she left behind, feeling like she was going crazy because her underwear was nowhere to be found. it would just have to wait until tomorrow, she supposes. 

she’s moisturized and laying in bed, trying to fall asleep. tossing and turning. taking a deep breath. softening her face, muscles. thinking of nice things.

drifting off. mind flashing back to the man grabbing her and slamming her against the brick wall. thinking of what would’ve happened had carmy not come to her rescue. 

her eyes snap open. she sharply inhales and sits up, hanging her legs over the side of the bed. it was going to be impossible to get sleep like this, heart beating way too fast to try and relax. 

she just wants to feel safe. 

without a second thought, she stands and begins walking to carmy’s room. 

she knows he’s pissed off at her. knows he’ll probably tell her to get out. even so, she’s so desperate to get some sleep. so desperate to ease the anxiety that had been festering inside of her all night. 

his door is closed, and she hesitates for a moment before twisting the knob and slipping inside. 

it’s dark—the curtains drawn when they usually aren’t. he lay shirtless on his side, facing away from the door, clutching a pillow in his arms. 

the girl peels back his sheets and slowly slips into bed, resting her head on the soft pillow. she stays there for a moment before scooting closer and laying her face against his back. he’s so warm, and his skin smells safe. her eyes fall shut. she feels him shift. 

carmen wakes up unexpectedly to the feeling of warmth behind him. he knows it’s her without having to look. when she had noisily stumbled upstairs and into the shower, he went to go check on her—almost knocked on the bathroom door, but refrained once he heard soft cries from within. 

he feels her face nuzzle into his back, and he reaches his arm back behind him, wanting to feel where she lay. he touches her hip.

“hi,” she greets softly. 

“hey,” he returns, voice raspy, “y’can’t sleep?” 

she scoots closer to him, hand splaying over his back. 

“just a little… freaked out still…” she whispers. her tone wobbles. 

he shifts at this, and turns around to face her silently. in the low light she can make out the worried furrow of his brows.

she feels guilty for being the subject of his worry. 

“i’m sorry,” the girl confesses, biting back tears. 

carmen’s brows crease further at her apology, immediately wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his chest. she tucks her face into his neck, shutting her eyes tightly, smelling his skin. 

“y’got nothing to be sorry for,” he plants a kiss atop her head, “wasn’t your fault.” 

“it was my fault,” her voice breaks, “should’ve listened to you,” her arms come around his neck, and she presses her body flush with his. 

“it wasn’t,” he asserts, “that guy was a fuckin’ creep.” his tone is hushed. his arms wrap around her as if he’s scared of losing her. 

“are you still mad at me?” she asks. her breath tickles his neck. 

“i wasn’t mad,” he admits, “just scared.” 

“me too,” matching his hushed tone. “thank you carm,” she whispers, pressing a kiss below his ear, “feel so safe with you.” she shuffles closer, pelvis pressing against his. 

“you are,” he buries his nose in her hair, “always.” hiking her leg over his hip to bring her closer. 

the girl kisses his neck again. and again. pulls him in closer. his smell is completely addicting, and with the angle of her leg she can feel his erection growing against her core. she hopes he can’t feel the wetness that begins to form beneath her shorts. 

his big palm spreads over her ass and squeezes, desperate to hold every inch of her. 

the girl deeply exhales, bothered by how easily he’s able to rouse her. 

the man harshly exhales at the repeated feeling of her bites and licks and kisses, holding onto her with an urgent desperation. trying to wrap around her as if he were keeping her from the world. 

the room becomes hot, and the two shuffle the duvet off. 

carmen calls her name, trying to break her attention. he wants to apologize. wants to confess his shortcomings. wants to look in her big eyes and tell her he’s not enough and never will be. but she ignores his beckon and continues enthusiastically biting and sucking and kissing, hand pressing against his chest. 

he forces his eyes to stay open, weight of his bottled apology heavy on his tongue. 

“hey,” he tries again, voice strained from the pleasure.

“can you put it in?” she breathes into his neck.

“fuck,” he groans, surprised by her forward request, feeling himself pulse against her wetness. 

“please,” she whines, hiking her leg further up onto his hip, trailing her kisses along his jaw, up to his cheek.

he squeezes her ass again, fingers slipping under the fabric of her tiny shorts. her skin was so soft. so hot with arousal. 

“let me play with you,” he strains, “get you ready f’me.”

the girl makes a sound of protest, kissing his face more, hand coming to his neck. 

“m’ready,” she whispers earnestly “wanna feel you so bad,” another kiss, “please, carm.”

he lets out a strained breath and removes his hand from her ass, shoving his boxers down just enough to free his erection. she moves her thigh higher up his hip, and carmen slips his fingers beneath the fabric covering her core, hastily pulling it to the side.

“yeah,” she exhales desperately, edge of her lips touching his, trying to watch him press his cock into her opening. 

carmen pushes forward, sinking into her tightness. he lets out a groan at the way her wet heat engulfs him. the girl releases a sound of appreciation, her nails indenting the skin of his shoulder. 

he takes a deep breath and begins slowly rocking his hips, turning his face to catch her lips in a hungry kiss. he greedily swallows her sweet noises, catching the edge of her shirt and bunching it up over her chest, exposing her breasts.

“please,” she breaks the kiss to plead, not really even knowing what she was asking for. 

“i know, baby” he groans in between kisses, “gonna take care of you.” rolling his hips, hiking her leg further up his hip to bury himself to the hilt. 

she wants to cry at how good it feels, eyes scrunched shut and mouth falling open in pleasure, releasing her first breathy moan. 

carmy swears he could cum at the sound of it, hand grabbing her ass again, pulling her impossibly closer. his forehead comes to hers and he begins slowly thrusting into her, completely drunk off of her. her smell, her wetness, her whimpers. 

“y’so fuckin’ cute,” he growls, “can’t get enough of you.” his admission sends a fluttering sensation throughout her chest, arching further into his touch, beginning to hungrily rock her hips to try and match his thrusts. 

the man grabs her hip, holding her still. 

“slow down,” he commands softly, catching her lips in a deep kiss, continuing to gently thrust into her. 

she complies, savoring the sweet, lazy rocking motion as he holds her tightly. it feels far more intimate than what she’s ever experienced with him, even though the two weren’t even fully naked. it was needy and frenetic, yet slow and gentle. 

carmen buries himself deeper, beginning to thrust up into her at an angle. he kisses her with frenzy, tongue swirling around hers, swallowing each and every noise she makes. the room grows incredibly hot, their skin sticky, each trying to apologize to the other using their bodies. 

carmy snaps his hips forward, and the girl releases from his lips with a loud cry. her nails dig into his shoulder. it’s so good she feels like crying again. 

“y’such a pretty fuckin’ girl,” he growls, “love how you feel, y’know that?” 

her droopy eyes meet his. she loves the way it sounds from his mouth. loves everything he does. 

“i’m all yours carm,” she gasps, savoring the deep, satiating feeling of his thick cock.

“yeah?” he asks breathily, “all mine?” grabbing her ass, pulling her in time with his thrusts. 

“y-yeah,” she cries, eyes tightly shut, “yours. i love-ah,” she’s interrupted by a punctuated thrust, losing her words, head falling back, breathing heavily. he feels so good.

“what d’you love?” he asks, leaning forward to kiss her exposed neck, “huh?” 

“love y-how you make me feel,” she cries. 

his chest flutters. he bites and kisses the skin of her neck. he wishes she would’ve said something different. 

“what else, hm?” a kiss, thrusts speeding up, “what else d’you love?” 

“love-fuck, right there,” she whimpers, “i love-ah,” trailing off as if she can’t even think straight. 

carmy smiles into her neck, giving her skin a final bruise before pulling away to catch her lips. 

“tell me,” he growls, grabbing the side of her thigh and continuing to upwards. 

her eyes fill with tears. she’s scared to say it. 

“i-,” an gasp, “i love you, carm.” she catches his gaze as she says it, and watches how his expression softens. how deeply he looks at her. the man dives into her lips again, kissing her with a ferocity she had yet to ever receive, groaning into her mouth. 

“fuckin’ made for me,” he growls in between kisses, “love everything about you,” pulling her leg further up, “perfect fuckin’ girl.”

he rolls over her and lifts her hips up, continuing to thrust into her. 

the girl wraps her legs around his back accommodatingly, dizzy from his words and the pleasure. she slips her fingers down to circle her swollen clit, feeling as if she teters right on the edge of climax, overcome with a white hot pleasure. 

“love you,” she cries, nails scratching down his back, “iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou m’gonna cum” she babbles. he smiles down at her, almost overwhelmed by a feral need to claim her. 

the man deliberates throwing caution to the wind and cumming inside of her. he knows she wouldn’t mind. he rationalizes the logistics of making her a mom in his frenetic state, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks, her wet eyes, her open mouth. he decides he’s in love with her. decides he wants her to be his forever. he watches her cum. watches her eyes roll back and her body start shaking. listens to the sweet harmonic moans that spill from her lips. 

“there y’go,” he coaxes, “such a good girl,” kissing her swollen lips, “fuckin’ in love with you,” heightening the pace of his thrusts, feeling himself approach the brink of orgasm. he seriously considers cumming inside of her, telling himself he would if she asked. he looks at the girl for confirmation, but she’s too far gone. he begrudgingly pulls out, shooting thick ropes of cum onto her stomach with a groan, missing her warmth as soon as he leaves. 

carmy rolls off of her, grabbing her face and pressing a firm kiss onto her cheek, collapsing on the bed for a moment. he feels spent.

the girl pants, trying to catch her breath. carmen nuzzles into her neck, wrapping around her tightly, kissing her tenderly. they bask in the afterglow, cherishing the presence of each other, an encompassing silence following the heavy words exchanged.

she’s the first to speak. well, complain. 

“there’s….cum all over my stomach.” she rasps. he smiles into her neck. 

“shower?”

quiet, for a moment. 

“i can’t move.” 

he kisses her bruised skin with a lazy smirk and sits up to grab her a washcloth. 

-

when the girl wakes up alone the next morning, her heart drops a bit, finding the bed next to her empty once again. she shuts her eyes immediately, hoping to be swept away by sleep so she could postpone the disappointment. 

that is, until she hears noises from the kitchen downstairs. and smells the bacon. 

the girl groggily pushes herself up out of bed, stalking down the hallway. she gets halfway to the stairs before realizing she’s completely naked, stopping in her tracks, turning to carmy’s open door, eyes falling on a t-shirt on the ground. she quickly grabs it and slips it over her head, then continues to curiously make her way downstairs. soft music comes from the speaker in the kitchen, and she slowly descends the stairs to find carmy deftly working over the stove. the whole house smells incredible. 

she slips behind him to get to the coffee pot, sliding her hand along his back as she passes. 

the man turns his head.

“hey,”  he watches as she retrieves a mug from the cabinet, graciously taking in the sight of her wearing his shirt. 

“good morning,” she smiles, “smells so good in here.” 

as she stretches to get the mug, the hem of the shirt lifts ever so slightly over the curve of her ass. he clears his throat.

“nice shirt,” carmy says, turning back to tend to the bacon. 

she lets out a soft giggle, pouring her coffee. 

“yeah?” taking a sip and leaning against the counter, “figured it would be better than coming down naked.”

his brain stutters for a moment. he turns to catch the smirk on her face. 

“i, uh…. i dunno about that,” he responds, small smile on his face. she shoves his arm playfully and he breaks into a grin. 

“no work this morning?” she asks, grateful for the unusual saturday morning presence. 

“no, i, uh…m’taking a personal day,” he replies, turning the heat of the stove off, “had some stuff i needed to get done.”

“good,” she replies with a nod, “you deserve a day off. i didn’t take you for much of a breakfast guy, though” she comments, tilting her head slightly. 

“i’m not, really,” he plates the bacon over a paper towel, “but i, uh…thought some all american might help with your hangover.” 

she feels a pang in her chest, eyes glancing over the assortment of pancakes, eggs, hash browns, and bacon. everything she had told him last night. 

“carm,” she whines, “that is so kind. you didn’t have to all of this for me.”

the food looked delectable, plated beautifully and piping hot. 

“i wanted to.” he begins to pick up the plates. 

she puts her coffee down and helps him set the table.

when she takes the first bite of her bacon and eggs she practically moans at the taste. 

“fuck,” she locks eyes with him. 

“yeah?” he watches her with amusement.

“yeah,” she breathes, nodding, “that’s…wow.” 

he can’t help but grin, hand coming to rub over his face. 

“good?” 

“yeah.” she nods, “really fucking good.”

he feels his skin heat at the way she says it, having no idea why watching her enjoy his food was so deeply satisfying (and maybe just a little arousing).

“try the pancakes,” he tells her, pushing the syrup closer to her. she nods enthusiastically, slathering the pancakes the maple syrup and taking a big bite. 

the girl groans, and her head falls into her hand, savoring the taste. she doesn’t think she’s ever had pancakes so good. 

“i could kiss you right now,” she looks back up at him. he lets out a breath of amusement and his cheeks warm with her praise.

“i’m glad you like it.” 

“no, seriously, i’m…going to kiss you.” she tells him, putting a hand on the table and leaning over it. she grabs his shirt and pulls him in, kissing him firmly. 

the man lets out a soft groan of surprise, enthusiastically reciprocating. she tastes like maple syrup. 

when the girl pulls back, he grabs her face and pulls her back in, wanting another sweet taste. it’s better than any pancakes he’s ever made. 

carmen loosens his grip on her face and she slowly pulls away, pressing a last kiss to his lips before sitting back down. she gives him a mischievous smile and continues eating her breakfast.  

-

“go sit down,” she tells him, taking the pan from him, “you already cooked, let me clean up.”

“we can do it together,” he compromises, “it’ll be faster.”

she shakes her head, making a pile of dishes in the sink and turning on the hot water.  

“no. go sit down and relax,” she demands, beginning to scrub. 

she feels arms wrap around her waist, feels lips on her neck. 

“so bossy,” he chides in between kisses, pressing his hips against her backside. she lets out a slow breath, leaning into his touch. her eyes flutter as she feels his hand creep under her shirt, splaying over her stomach. she’s not wearing anything besides his oversized shirt, and her skin suddenly feels hot from his touch. she arches into him slightly, and he bites her neck.  

it feels very domestic, fighting over who would clean up the kitchen. it feels domestic wearing his shirt and being pressed up against the counter by him, skin littered with his bruises, lips intertwined with his name. 

carmy begins to lift the borrowed shirt up, kisses trailing up to her ear, hand coming to squeeze her breast. 

the girl releases a soft noise, completely distracted by her task of washing dishes. her head falls back against his shoulder, and she leans into his touch. 

carmen thinks of telling her to strip the shirt off. thinks of hoisting her up onto the counter and eating her out until she cums. touching her until she cries.

he pushes the shirt up further. 

knock knock knock 

they both startle and look to the front door. carmen checks the time, and his heart drops a bit. 

he pulls away from the girl and runs a hand through his curls.

“who is it?” she asks him, observing his look of stress. 

“it’s, uh….fuck. just wait right here, okay?” his hands fall from his hips and he stalks to the closet by the front door, pulling out a scarf she doesn’t recognize. 

he opens the door halfway, and she hears a familiar woman’s voice greeting him. 

her face gets hot. her chest feels tight. 

“claire,” he greets quietly, thrusting the scarf forward, “here.”

“ugh, thank you, carmy. i’m so forgetful sometimes.” 

“no problem. i should, uh-”

“it smells good in there,” claire comments, peaking in. 

carmen steps back, eyes darting over to his roommate. she stands with her arms crossed, leaning against the counter, staring at him.

“i’m uh…cooking breakfast,” he turns back to claire, “so i should probably get back to that. i’ll see yo-”

“-i was thinking we could talk?” she cuts him off, “can i come in?”

“i don’t know if that’s…,” carmen hesitates. he glances to his roommate to find her walking behind him towards the stairs.

claire’s eyes follow the girl, taking in her attire. carmy watches her expression slightly falter. 

his roommate stalks up the stairs. was walking behind him in plain sight a little petty? maybe. but she’s sick of carmy never saying exactly what he means. she undoes the hair tie holding together her messy updo, walking to her room. 

she quickly grabs a change of clothes and rushes into to the bathroom to shower, feeling the overwhelming need to leave the apartment. 

the front door slams shut, and she hears his steps ascend the stairs.

[etanow]

Do you have any showtime monster labs headcanons? 👉🏻👈🏻☺️

OH BOY DO I HEHEHEHE

Caine was the last to realize Pomni was in his residency (He was,, otherwise preoccupied), and was absolutely flabbergasted that Jax did such a thing as raising the dead. Caine has a strict policy on not letting humans(dead or alive) that far down in the C&A facility unaccompanied considering how many monsters reside there.It was one of the few times anyone had seen him properly upset at something Jax had done. Pomni was rightfully freaked the fuck out at a giant pair of floating teeth and eyes saying he's a long-forgotten God, needless to say, their first introductions were confusing on both ends LOL

Understandably, Pomni has a LOT of issues with herself appearance-wise. She avoided mirrors for weeks, and tried her best to keep distant from the others. Caine didn't walk on eggshells around her like the others did as she adjusted and that was something she appreciated, at least provided a little sense of normalcy. He was easy to talk to and remembered EVERY little detail.

Caine can change his form at will, but Pomni prefers his big ol' toothy head because he said he was most comfortable appearing that way.

Everyone has their own unique smells; Zooble smells like brimstone, musk, and campfire, Jax always smells like hand sanitizer and chemicals that make your nose burn, Kinger like old earth and soil, Ragatha smells comforting like your favorite old plushie, and Gangle didn't have much but she liked occasionally putting perfume on her ribbons. But Pomni always has a hint of the smell of death following her. She tried Gangle's perfumes and all sorts of scented soaps but nothing could truly mask or make it go away. It was only when Caine gifted her a bouquet of flowers that the smell was almost forgotten. Hell, maybe the plague doctors with their floral and herb-filled masks were on to something. Since then, Caine often surprised Pomni with fresh flowers, herbs, and plants to the point of her shelves overflowing with vases and pots of flowers in all states. Eventually, she gets to pressing flowers between books as a memento for every flower he's given her.

.

Pomni sometimes needs blood transfusions as her body doesn't make blood anymore but still needs it- she hates needles. Caine and Ragatha alternate sitting with her during it since it can take a few hours at a time and distract her with books or idle chatter until it's done. Caine is an amazing storyteller, he's existed a long time as both a noncorporeal and corporeal being and has countless stories of battles and moments long lost to time. He hasn't really had anyone to share these stories with, and the only other being who was around during all of it, well he doesn't get the chance to talk with him much these days...

Ragatha and Pomni got together first, they spent a lot more time together in the beginning since Caine only popped in once or twice a week usually. He started hanging around longer after a while and I'm getting sidetracked now I'm just imagining Pomni bursting into Ragatha's room sobbing with a "I'M SO SORRY I JUST KISSED CAINE PLEASE FORGIVE ME-" And Ragatha doesn't miss a beat, totally unphased and unbothered, "Ooh nice! Was he any good?" And Pomni's just standing there like "Wait What"

They are all very bad at communication lmao but they're TRYING THEIR BEST OKAY

Caine is not used to the concept of resting, meanwhile, pretty much all Pomni does in her free time most days is nap or laze around- it took Caine a while to not see it as a waste of time and now loves it when Pomni rests her head in his lap. He likes playing with her hair and watching her sleep peacefully.

Pomni keeps her gloves on often because she doesn't like the sight of her skeletal fingers but absolutely MELTS with palm and backhand kisses.

Caine is very touchy-feely, he rubs backs when talking idly or loops arms together, floats a little closer, and matches their pace when walking together (even imitates walking itself with little bobs in time with whoever he's walking with). On some bad joint days, Pomni has a bit of a limp from her exposed bone leg and Pomni finds it absolutely hilarious when Caine unintentionally matches that movement.

Pomni misses facebook memes a lot :(

[55sturn]

makeout sessions with chris that get a lil heated heheheh

✮ MAKING OUT WITH BFF!CHRIS

disclaimer: alcoholic consumption, drug usage, nsfw, heavy petting, dry humping, implications of going further.

you and chris had a not-so-complicated complex relationship. the two of you were best friends, but there was always a hint of something more creeping in the background. the two of you fully crossed the line one night after a few too many drinks at a party that landon had thrown at some random place.

the two of you stumbled up the stairs, seeking peace and quiet in an empty room, and the way the soft lighting from the bedside lamp enhanced your features had him staring at you in a way he found himself staring at you way too many times before. but there was something different this time, you were reciprocating the look in his eyes. and before he knew it, his lips were slotting over yours, kissing you with such a force of emotion, you felt like you were floating. and the way he nudged your legs apart with his knee, pressing against your clothed cunt, had you rolling your hips against it, needing more.

the next time he kissed you, you were both sober, and he was desperate to feel your lips on his in the middle of a movie night that nick had invited you to, only for him to pass out five minutes in. and without nick asking questions every five minutes, chris had access to your full attention. and he was quick to use it to his advantage. his hands grasped at your hips, tugging you into his lap as his lips molded perfectly with yours, the two of you smiling against each other’s lips as his hands slid beneath the hoodie of his that you wore, his thumbs brushing over your hardening nipples, loving the way you keened into his touch. but the bliss was cut short as you both heard the garage door open, signalling that matt was home.

the third time he kissed you, he was high out of his mind, the blunts that you two had shared going straight to his head, both of them. and he needed to kiss you again. he realized that once he had kissed you for the first time, he needed to feel your lips against his all the time. and he made sure to kiss you every chance he could. and kissing you while felt unreal, and he was sure to take it further, and the feeling of your walls hugging him so deliciously tight, every inch of him buried deep inside you, he didn’t know if he’d every get enough of it.

taglist: @worldlxvlys @gamermattsgf @vanteguccir @sturnioloshacker @sugrhigh @bratzforchris @teapartyprincess4two @lustfulslxt @patscorner @guccifrog @muwapsturniolo @soursturniolo @solarsturniolo @sturnioloshacker @raysmayhem-72 @meanttomeet @breeloveschris @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @freshloveee @fawnchives @cindylcuwho @thc-bolter @freshloveforthefit @freshsturns @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @sturnifyed @querenciasturniolo @pinklittleflower @ellie-luvsfics @strniolo @junnniiieee07 @hearts4chriss @evie-sturns @hysteria-things @sturniolossss @iliketotalk @mattscoquette @dazednmatthews @bambi-slxt @nickgetsmewetter @inkyray @jnkvivi @cdbabymp3

© 55STURN 2024 ! REBLOGS NOT EXPECTED BUT GREATLY APPRECIATED ! [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

[juyeonszn]

BAD IDEA RIGHT?

PAIRING lee juyeon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 4.10k

GENRES … smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, literally porn with plot. like i’m so insane, enemies to “we fuckin” as reese put it 🥰, frat boy tbz again!!!, juyo is literally so irritating in the first half im not even gonna lie, he’s also a manwhore, making out, reader is a bit of a brat, juyeon has a dirty mouth, kinda dom!juyeon, vaginal fingering, oral (m! receiving), SHOWER SEX !12!1!, he’s hitting it from the back btw, unprotected sex, creampie, juyeon is actually… i don’t even know how to describe him writing his character made me want to claw at the walls lol

SUMMARY deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. but paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.

MORE heheheh im back 🤭 oh my god this was actually the cause of a week full of sleepless nights. i genuinely drove myself crazy writing this bc NEED FRRRR like idk i’m so 😭 delusional. ANYWAYS. ANON. THIS ONE IS FOR U. U REQUESTED THIS AND I RAN WITH IT. u wanted more juyeon, i deliver more juyeon ;) also shout out to ally, moni, AND reese for beta’ing 🥺 i love u my cupcakes!! prompt used: 18 <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble

If there was anyone on Earth that you hated more than anything, it had to be Lee Juyeon.

To put things plainly, he was quite literally the bane of your existence. Being around him made your blood pressure skyrocket and gave you migraines that lasted for days. It was insane how one person could affect you so much by doing so little. It seemed as if he thrived off of getting under your skin.

Considering he was the captain and the pitcher of the baseball team, it wasn’t shocking. He was also a member of one of the most popular fraternities on campus. But he happened to be roommates with one of your best friends, and that made it ten times worse.

You’d known Changmin since third grade, along with Kevin and Chanhee. When he mentioned he’d be joining a fraternity in college, you were a bit apprehensive. All you knew about them was what you’d read in YA books and seen in movies. Neither gave them a good rep. Part of you wanted to talk him out of it, but you knew this was something you had to let him do, given you were adults and it was his college experience. At least you still had the other two under one roof.

The first time you met Juyeon was also the first time you attended a frat party. Changmin had just passed his initiation after waiting a year and he invited all of you to celebrate. You were excited for the most part since high school parties were more for an adrenaline rush due to the fact that your parents never let you go to them and you either snuck out or lied about going. You didn’t have to worry about the limitations of parents this go around.

The boys disappeared almost immediately upon arrival, leaving you to fend for yourself in the very crowded fraternity house. You could hardly pass through a room without bumping into somebody’s shoulder or elbow, huffing as you maneuver around the house equivalent to a sardine can. Your drink nearly spilled onto your top multiple times and you were glad you decided against the heels for the night.

You chugged the rest of the jungle juice in your cup as you stepped onto the patio, where it’s just as noisy and just as packed. You’re lucky enough to find an empty lounge chair near the house’s pool, unoccupied and calling your name. When your legs touch the plastic chair, you flinch at how hot it is, most likely from being in the sun all day.

“Woah, do you want a cushion?”

You look up at the source of the voice. You’ve seen him around campus before, and even at Changmin’s games. Lee Juyeon was just one of those people that you had to know, unless you’d been living under a rock. Just like everyone else in the world, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. From this distance, you truly understood why girls would giggle like high schoolers over the guy.

“Uh, sure. Yeah, that would be great actually.” You nod, watching as he wanders towards the shed in the corner of the big ass backyard. He returns promptly, holding his red solo cup between his teeth and one hand on your lower back guiding you to a standing position so he could place down the cushion.

“As a thank you, can I get your name?” He gives you a cocky little smile that should’ve been a warning. And looking back on it, you should’ve seen his true personality sooner, to be completely honest. The way his lips curled at the corners, like a conniving bastard who got off on irritating others.

“It’s Y/N,” you say, messing with your empty cup. “I’d ask for yours, but I kinda already know.”

He laughs at that, scratching the back of his neck. “That’s not surprising.” It’s at this point that you’re starting to see through his sweet facade, but despite knowing better— despite always keeping your guard up— you let yourself fall for it just this once. All because you didn’t want to fuck things up for Changmin. He owed you big time.

“Well, you are a talented athlete.” You didn’t want to fuel what is probably already a massive ego, but you’d rather compliment his baseball skills than the fact that he was infamous for screwing around with half of the girls on campus. Technically, that was a feat of its own since he’d only been in school for a year.

“Oh, so you think I’m talented?” He rested a hand on your chair, leaning down to your level. Confidence oozed from every corner of his being and if you weren’t so self aware, perhaps you could’ve ended up like all those other victims of his charismatic behavior.

“I go to the games for Changmin,” you scoff, glancing away from his face to stop the heat rising up your neck. “I’ve only paid attention to you once or twice.”

“Yeah, sure. Let's go with that,” he bites his lip, blatantly checking you out. “I wouldn’t mind paying attention to you a little.”

“I’m unimpressed, Juyeon,” you snort, raising an eyebrow at him. “Does this shit really work on everyone?”

“I can drop the act if you want, baby. Just let me know when you’re ready to stop playing hard to get.” He stands upright, running a hand through his hair.

Every time you ran into Lee Juyeon after that, he was more and more insufferable. He knew his influence on you, too, if his smug fucking grin was anything to go by. You wish you could just slap it off of him. However, you stood by being the bigger person in any given situation, so that was off the table. (And half of you still felt a moral obligation to not get your friend into hot water.)

“Would it kill you to play nice every once in a while? I do live with the dude, you know.” Changmin whines, trailing you in the supermarket like a lost puppy.

“He’s got a point, N/N,” Kevin adds, humming as he tosses a boxed dinner into the cart. “I get that he’s a little bit of an overconfident douche, but rolling your eyes at him when he hasn’t even done anything just makes it worse on you. And JiChang, too, I guess.”

“Bro…”

You weren’t even sure why he decided to tag along with you and the other boys when you mentioned grocery shopping. In fact, he might as well have stayed his ass home if he was just going to gang up on you the whole time. Chanhee sighs dramatically, bringing your shopping cart to a halt.

“Can we not have a peaceful grocery trip? Is that impossible or something?” His lips form a thin line. “I swear, all we do is talk about how much Y/N hates Lee Juyeon. Can we please move on?”

“Thank you, Chanhee, I agree,” you nod along, walking backwards as you do so and ignoring the faces your friends make. “He makes me want to kill myself.”

“Who makes you want to kill yourself?”

You jump up, frightened by the sudden voice in your ear. Your friends all give you sheepish smiles, as if they’d already tried to warn you. (What shitty jobs they did.) With a hand over your heart, you turn around to meet— speak of the devil— none other than Lee Juyeon himself.

“What are you doing here?” Your eyes narrow and your arms cross over your chest. Luck could never be on your side when it came to this guy.

“Uh, last I checked, this was a public supermarket. Where I can publicly shop. I wasn’t aware that I had to run that by you. So sorry, sweetheart.” He pouts, his expression so theatrical you nearly give in to your constant urge to punch him in the face.

You feel your eye twitch, and it takes everything in you to step back and assess just how bad it would be if you committed murder right now. Changmin comes to your rescue, doing damage control as best as he can while Kevin attempts to talk you out of becoming a criminal.

The two frat brothers do their little fraternity handshake thing and then finally he’s out of sight, out of mind, allowing you to visibly relax. Chanhee purses his lips. “Okay, so maybe I do see where the anger comes from. And holy shit, Y/N, you have the patience of a saint.”

“The person you have called is unavailable! At the tone, please leave a message. When you have finished recording, you may—”

“Goddammit.” You curse, ending the unsuccessful call.

The downside of working far from campus, was working far from campus. You didn’t have your own car and usually relied on one of your roommates for a ride to and from. But now here you are, stranded at work while it’s pouring cats and dogs outside. Kevin was in class and Chanhee wasn’t picking up his phone. You could call Changmin, but you’re pretty sure he also had a class around this time.

Just as you’re about to succumb to your demise, you receive a text from Chanhee.

[2:57 pm] michael jackson: IM SO SORRY AJNSSJNW BUT SOMETHING CAME UP WITH A GROUP PROJECT

[2:57 pm] michael jackson: DONT WORRY THOUGH, IVE GOT IT COVERED UR STILL GETTING PICKED UP

“Could today get any worse?” You mutter to yourself, locking your phone and tossing it into your purse. As if your timing couldn’t be better, you spoke entirely too soon. Your eyes squint at the unfamiliar car rolling up under the carport. Your brows furrowed in confusion, because you had no idea who could be your saving grace. Chanhee was a wild card so who knew who he had on speed dial.

But then the passenger window rolls down and you wish the ground would just swallow you whole. Lee Juyeon grins that stupid fucking grin of his, beckoning you to his car as it unlocks when he shifts into park. You shake your head.

“No way. There is absolutely no way I am getting into that car.” You shout over the pelting rain.

Juyeon tsks, his eyes rolling when he reaches over the center console to open the door for you. “Is there anyone else who would drop everything they’re doing to pick you up in this weather?”

Your lips pull into a flat line. The answer was no, you didn’t have anyone else who would drop everything they were doing to pick you up in this weather. That was the reason Juyeon was here, you supposed. It didn’t mean you weren’t at least going down without a fight, though. Except, Lee Juyeon was a man who was all too comfortable with how expressive you were. Most notably towards him.

“What? Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”

“Fuck you. I’d rather walk.” You seethe, starting straight in the direction of your apartment. Juyeon groans at first, your constant need to prove yourself getting on his nerves for once. Then his eyes widen slightly when he realizes you’re not joking.

The truth was that the rain was freezing and you’d love to be in the shelter of a warm car. In fact, you didn’t really care that Juyeon was the person driving. But you were too deep into the bit now. You couldn’t just turn around and get in the car, for you had a pride to protect at this point.

“Shit.” Juyeon swears under his breath, reaching into the backseat to grab an umbrella. Sure he loved to tease you and rile you up, but he wasn’t cruel. Your friends would have his head on a silver platter if he let anything happen to you.

You pause in your steps when you’re no longer being showered in rain water. Juyeon holds the umbrella over your head with a worried expression. You feel kind of bad for making him chase after you even though he’d already gone out of his way to pick you up. Sometimes you wish your ego wasn’t so fragile. Maybe then you could accept help when you needed it instead of making things worse.

“Can you please stop being so stubborn and just get in the damn car, Y/N? Do you have to make everything difficult all the time?” Usually, pissing you off made him over the moon, but you can tell he’s not exactly pleased at the moment. You swallow thickly, nodding quietly and following him back to his car.

The whole drive to your apartment is silent save for the song playing on his speakers. It’s not as loud in comparison to the storm outside, but you’re grateful that it’s filling the space between you. If only Lee Juyeon hadn’t done such an excellent job ticking you off like a bomb, then maybe you would’ve just hopped in the passenger seat with ease. But no, he had to goad you until you made an irrational decision and now here you are.

As he pulls up to your building, you say a little prayer that you don’t regret your next actions. He stops as close to the stairs as he can, but you turn to him before unbuckling your seatbelt. With a deep breath, you ask, “Would you like to— uh— come inside?”

He glances from you to the stairs and then shrugs, parking in the nearest empty spot. He holds the umbrella over both of you as you make your way to your unit, lightly sprinting so you don’t get anymore soaked than you already are. You figured the least you could do was invite the dude into your home and offer him some hot tea, just so he could warm up before heading back to the TBZ house. Your roommates not being here to make fun of you was also a plus.

There’s still an unspoken tension even after you’ve shed your raincoats and shoes by the front door, settling into your apartment and its coziness. Juyeon sits at the breakfast bar as you busy yourself with preparing the kettle and getting a couple tea bags. His watchful gaze is a little intimidating now that you’ve seen his serious side.

Once you’ve finished making the tea, you set his mug in front of him. You look everywhere but him when you say, “I’m gonna take a shower if you’re okay waiting out here by yourself.” He doesn’t respond verbally, so you take it as your cue to leave.

You turn on the water to let it heat up before gathering your essentials. When you’ve completed your back and forth trip from the bathroom and your bedroom, you’re finally ready to just relax in your shower and forget about today’s events. But how could you ever truly relax with Lee Juyeon in your space, permeating your peace?

As you’re shutting the bathroom door, a foot jams itself between the threshold and stops you. You glance up from the floor to meet Juyeon’s eyes. They’re darker than you’re used to, a deep shade of brown that has your stomach twisting into knots.

“You know, Y/N, this game of cat and mouse is starting to get old,” he takes a step into the steaming room, locking the door behind him and trapping you. “Just admit to yourself that you want me.”

You sputter at his bold words, because you don’t. You don’t want Lee Juyeon. Why would you want Lee Juyeon? “I’m not gonna lie to myself. I don’t want you.”

He laughs humorlessly, closing the gap between you just a little more. You don’t have it in you to back away from him. He reaches a hand up to tuck some damp hair behind your ear. You’re still wet and cold from your stupid idea to walk in the rain, but Juyeon plans to warm you up perfectly. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you breathe.

“Why don’t we test that theory?” Now he’s got you backed into the wall, his face a hair’s breadth distance from your own. “I have a feeling I can change your mind.”

You don’t know if it’s the heat of the bathroom or Juyeon’s lips being so close, but so far simultaneously that has your brain turning into static. Your head feels fuzzy, like you’re watching TV on an empty channel through a blurry lens. You lick your lips, vision trained on his. “Why don’t we?”

That’s all the confirmation he needs to press your mouths together in a searing kiss, hotter than the temperature of the room. You feel him smile against you when you make no move to push him away, instead carding your fingers through his hair. He groans when you tug a bit, twirling the longer strands around your index.

His hands slip under your top, thumbs rubbing circles into your waist. This is a terrible idea. Deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into Juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. But paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.

When you part for air, you both start stripping your top layers, resuming your attacks on each other’s lips once you’re left in nothing but undergarments. Juyeon trails kisses along the side of your neck, nipping and sucking wherever he feels fit. You gasp when he finds that particular spot that contributes to the butterflies fluttering about your stomach. “God, you’re so annoying.”

“Yeah?” And despite getting ready to give you the pleasure of your life, his grin against your skin still manages to irritate you. “You hate me so much, huh?”

“Mhm,” you whine as his fingers dip beneath the band of your panties, toying with your sensitive cunt. “Hate you so bad— ah…”

“You might wanna shut up soon, sweetheart,” Juyeon warns, sliding his ring finger between your lower lips. “Or else I’ll give that mouth something to do.”

“I’ll do whatever I want,” you pull his hand from your underwear, kneeling in front of him when he furrows his eyebrows in confusion. Your nails scrape lightly down his abdomen before hooking into the waistband of his briefs, freeing him from the material. It takes a lot out of you to not visibly react at the sight of his cock, hard and flushed to the tip. You couldn’t dare inflate his ginormous ego, the situation you were currently in already doing enough on its own. His size is impressive too, making you wonder just how he expects you to take him like a champ.

“What a fucking brat,” he hisses, your tongue swiping along the underside of his dick. “Always gotta have the last word, don’t you?”

“Mmmm,” you moan, mouth full with just the tip. You’d never been the type of person who cared about size. As long as they knew what they were doing and made you finish, you held no qualms with their length. In fact, you don’t think you ever even paid much attention to anyone’s dick in your life. But if there was anything to back Lee Juyeon’s cockiness, it had to be, well, his cock.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this moment,” he confesses, wrapping your hair around his hand into a makeshift ponytail. “But, fuck, this is so much better.”

The admission shoots straight to your core and you find yourself whimpering, the vibrations against his dick driving him crazy. He has to support his weight with one hand flat to the wall, the other still tightly fisting your hair. With every suck and flick of your tongue, he tugs a little more, the sting on your scalp providing you with more pleasure than pain. You pull off of him to take a breath, jerking him off as you do so.

“Am I meeting your expectations?” You bat your eyelashes up at him, drool sliding down your chin and makeup smeared under your eyes in tear streaks. He groans at the sight of you, forcing you to a standing position so he could kiss you again.

You start dragging him towards the shower, unhooking your bra and stepping out of your panties. He raises an eyebrow at you, amused. “You want me to fuck you in the shower, baby? Have you slipping all over my cock?”

“Duh,” you can’t help but roll your eyes at his question, practically pawing at his underwear to get him out of them fully. “Did you think I sucked your dick on the bathroom floor for fun?”

“That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one of these days.”

He kicks them off, reconnecting your lips as you step into the shower. The hot water hits your back almost like a massage, synchronously getting in your mouth as you make out with Juyeon aggressively. It’s like he can’t get enough of you, big hands kneading and groping everywhere and nowhere all at once. You feel insane, especially with how good of a kisser he is. It’s like you’re on cloud nine and nothing’s capable of bringing you down.

When he’s finally lost his patience, he spins you around, pressing you cheek first to the shower wall. You feel him against your lower back, his lips leveling with your ear. In spite of acting as if he had himself under control, you can hear the pant in his breathing, deep voice a little desperate than usual. He has a hand gripping your thigh and picking up your leg.

“No protection?” He asks, his cock already gliding between your folds in anticipation.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head as best you can with his body sandwiching you to the tiled surface. “Wanna feel you raw.”

“Fuck, you can’t say shit like that to me,” Juyeon groans into your ear, giving no warning as he spits down your front and hikes your leg higher, thrusting into your cunt. “You’ll make me wanna stay buried in you forever.”

You moan, hand coming up to hold the side of his head as he fucks you into the shower wall. If someone were to ask about this very moment, you weren’t too sure how you’d defend yourself. A moment of weakness, perhaps? But if a moment of weakness felt this fucking good every time, you might fall into a habit of judgment lapses.

He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, nibbling and biting your shoulder and the surrounding area with each snap of his hips. The angle he drives into you at has stars forming at the back of your vision, the tip of his cock brushing that one spot deep inside of you whenever he thrusts up. You don’t even think his entire dick is in you as he does this, but you also don’t really have the mind to care, way too focused on memorizing the veins of his shaft with your walls.

You’re far too gone to consider the consequences of your actions, the horizon of your release just beyond your fingertips now. You’d never needed someone so viscerally before, so carnally. Yet here you were, sucking Lee Juyeon’s cock in with your pussy like you were a damn vacuum. The sounds you’re making bounce back and forth on the walls, no doubt louder than the shower water itself.

“I— I-I’m so— fuck,” you mewl, words wobbling. “I’m so, so close, Juyo.”

“Yeah, baby?” He sighs in your ear, nudging your sensitive clit with his thumb while raising your leg as much as he physically can. “Me too, where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you don’t think you even make sense anymore, babbling as he continues to fuck you stupid. “Please. Want you to cum inside me.”

Juyeon grits his teeth, pleased with himself that he didn’t orgasm right then and there. He uses his last ounce of strength to get the two of you off together. “C’mon, sweetheart, cum for me.”

The fogginess subsides pretty quickly after you’ve finished, your brain registering what just happened almost instantaneously. If you weren’t so hypersensitive, you would’ve pulled him out yourself and scrambled to flee the scene. (And maybe even the country.) There are many more rational thoughts running through your head now. The entire trajectory of your life has just been changed, whether you realized it or not. But the biggest issue was:

What the hell do you do now?

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

[corroded-hellfire]

AYW req if you'd like: while Reader is pregnant with Eliza, she starts getting more prominent stretch marks on her stomach & boobs & stops letting Eddie see her naked. Eddie rectifies that situation hehehehe

This was honestly so fun to write! Love featuring the kiddos but these two also need some alone time hehe 💜 @munson-blurbs and I hope you like what we've come up with

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (she's already pregnant but you should still wrap it up), semi-public sex, pregnant!reader, oral, f!receiving, breeding kink, body image issues, older!eddie, dad!eddie

Words: 3.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The late June day is sweltering as you step out of the Harrington’s house and into their backyard. The placid blue water of the pool looks refreshing and calm—or it will, until the kids get in. Luke quickly jumps in alongside Theo and Danny, the three rowdy boys immediately splashing each other and then whining about being splashed. Ryan and Natalie are decidedly less hyperactive, taking care to watch baby Amelia where she kicks herself around in her purple mermaid floaties. 

Nancy makes herself comfortable on a lounge chair a few feet away from the one you’re making your way towards. Normally you can keep up with everyone else, still being in your second trimester, but this heat has you moving slower and feeling crankier than usual. 

You can’t help but notice the way Nancy looks in her bathing suit compared to how you feel in yours. Nancy’s had four children and looks stunning as always as she lays back in her black one piece. You feel shoved into your navy suit, like every little stretch mark that mars your skin is on full display for the world to see. 

Trying to shrug it off and enjoy the invitation from the Harrington’s to have a pool day, you make yourself comfortable on your lounge chair and adjust the pale pink coverup you have on. Eddie stands near the foot of your lounge chair, shielding his eyes from the sun as he looks out at the children in the water. Your eyes feel glued to his lithe frame as he strips his shirt off. The pale skin that’s left on display practically has your mouth watering. It doesn’t matter that you’ve seen him naked countless times, your eyes still roam over his torso and the beautiful works of art he has inked on his skin. 

As Eddie rids himself of the Black Sabbath shirt, he notices the way you’re gawking at him. A smirk quirks up his handsome features and he playfully tosses his shirt at your face. Your hormones this second trimester have been no joke. The moment Eddie walks through the door after work you’re jumping on him. Your husband swore you were going to wear him out before this baby was born. Not the last week or so though, now that Eddie thinks about it. Maybe those particular horny hormones have been fading to make room for whatever new batch comes in for the third trimester. 

The sound of little feet kicking too hard beneath the water of the pool approaches you and Eddie, and you look up to see Luke swimming over towards the edge. He grins up at the pair of you, shaking the water from his curls like a dog just out of the bath. Bright blue eyes land on you and they’re doing a pretty damn good impersonation of the puppy dog look that Eddie gives you when he wants something. You know what Luke is going to ask before he even opens his mouth. 

“Wanna plaaaay with us? Please?”

Giving him a frown as you squint beneath the blazing sunlight, you shake your head. “I’m super tired, bud. Growing a baby is hard work,” you tease. You’re not technically lying—when you’re not jumping Eddie’s bones or concocting weird new food combinations, you’re sleeping— but no one needs to know that’s not the reason you don’t want to get in the pool. 

“I can play with you,” Eddie offers his son. He takes a step towards the pool and is ready to dive in when Luke wrinkles his nose up in disgust.

“Nah, I’m good,” the little Munson boy says. 

As you bring your hands up to your mouth to cover up your laughter at your son’s remark, Steve claps a hand on Eddie’s bare back.

“Gonna need some ice for that burn?” Steve whoops. 

“Shut up, Harrington,” your husband grumbles in response. Eddie takes a seat near your legs at the edge of the lounge chair. His hand finds your leg and he rubs up and down your calf, always needing to be touching you in some way. Physical comfort is something you both love to give and receive from one another, which calls for a lot of soft rubbing or absent-mindedly drawing patterns on one another’s skin. Now, Eddie’s touch is having a calming effect on you, though he didn’t even realize there was something you’re uneasy about. Your body language must change as he relaxes you though, because he tilts his head to the side as he gazes at your face.

“You feeling alright, baby?” he asks.

“Yeah, just tired.” 

If Eddie had any follow up for that, he doesn’t get the chance because Amelia kicks her way over towards Luke in the pool and hangs onto his shoulder when she’s close enough. Her hand almost slips from his wet skin, but Luke manages to catch the little girl before she can float too far away. 

“Uncla’ Eddie!” Amelia calls once she’s clinging to Luke again. 

“What’s up, Little Red?” he asks his favorite ginger niece. 

“Come in, come in!” Amelia cheers. 

“At least somebody wants me in the water,” Eddie says with a pointed look at Luke. “Anything for you, my darling Mia.”

A few minutes after Eddie’s joined the kids in the pool—who also convince Steve to come in—Nancy comes over to you, noticing how everyone else is in just their bathing suits and you’re seemingly putting on more articles of clothing. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you answer too quickly, nervously tucking your lips into your mouth. 

“Bullshit,” she counters, crossing her arms over her chest. “I have four kids; I can smell a lie a mile away.”

“Seriously, Nance, I’m fine.” You muster up a small smile, but she sees right through it, and you know it. 

You have your nose buried in a book, unaware that Nancy is reaching over the side of the pool to give Eddie’s ear a tug. 

“Jesus H. Christ!” he yelps, rubbing the affected lobe. “What was that for?”

“Go talk to your wife,” Nancy says through gritted teeth, obviously irritated at having to spell it out for him. “Marco Polo can wait.”

As Eddie attempts to get out of the pool, Amelia grabs his leg and tugs. Your husband lets out a soft chuckle and picks the small girl up.

“I’ll be back, Mia.” He presses a few kisses to the top of her wet, red hair and sets her back in the water. 

Over the top of your book, you see Eddie sauntering towards you. You slip the book back into your bag and tug your cover up tighter across your body. 

“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” he asks with a smirk. “Besides that bun in the oven.”

“Just relaxing,” you say. 

“If you’re just relaxing, why did Lady Harrington threaten my life to come over here? And why aren’t you in the pool?”

The only answer you have you don’t want to tell him. And you’re not going to make up some lie to get him off your back. Eddie deserves better than that and you would never treat him with anything less than the utmost respect. That doesn’t mean you want to tell him the truth, though. You swallow embarrassment as you mutter, “I gotta pee.”

Eddie doesn’t let you get far without him though, he’s hot on your tail as you walk through the back door into the house.

“Can you please tell me what the problem is so I can at least try to fix it?” he asks once the screen door is securely closed behind him.

Silence is his only reply as you walk up the stairs to the second floor. You’re obviously upset, and your husband can’t relax until he knows what’s bothering you.

“Sweetheart, what’s the problem?” he asks again.

You stop short and spin on your heel to face him. As Eddie tries to read your face, he’s not sure if there’s more sadness or anger there. Either way, he wants to make it go away. He’d do anything. 

“This is the problem!” you say, gesturing towards your boobs and stomach. 

Eddie looks at you for a moment, brain trying to comprehend whatever it is you’re talking about. He shakes his head and gives you his response. “If I keep looking at them, this is gonna be a problem, too.” He motions to his crotch.

“I’m serious!” you yell in frustration. 

“I am, too!” Eddie says, raising his eyebrows. “Don’t forget how I got you pregnant in the first place.”

“Oh, so I can blame you for this mess?”

Eddie wrinkles his brows. “What mess?” He knows you would never refer to your baby that way, so he’s even more confused as to what you could mean.

“The stretch marks, Eds!” you lament, throwing your arms up in exasperation. “They look like an angry toddler drew lines all over my body.”

Understanding clicks inside Eddie’s brain. Why you’re so covered up. Why you didn’t want to go into the pool. But how could you ever think anything about your body wasn’t absolutely beautiful to him?

“That’s why you haven’t been all over me the past few days,” Eddie says as the realization hits him. “I thought maybe it was those horny hormones, or whatever they’re called, fading. But you…you think there’s something wrong with having stretch marks? Baby, no. It’s just your body making more room for our little sweet pea to grow. They’re beautiful, sweetheart.”

Believing him is easier said than done. You want to believe him, but battling the insecurities in your head is not something you’ve conquered yet. Now you just stand there and fiddle with the hem of your coverup, not knowing what else to say or do.

Eddie sighs and gently takes your hand into his. 

“Come with me. I wanna show you something.” 

Eddie leads you into the upstairs bathroom and shuts the door. He positions you directly in front of the mirror above the sink and stands behind you. Slowly, he moves your cover up out of the way to reveal your growing bump, stretch marks dotting the sides. 

“How on earth could you think anything about this is a problem?” he asks, his hands barely grazing your skin as he admires your tummy. “Look at you. Gorgeous bump. Cute little stretch marks from where our baby is making herself comfortable inside of you. It’s incredible, princess. Your body is literally growing a person and you’re mad at it because there are a few lines appearing on your skin?” He gives an incredulous laugh as he turns you around to face him. “Jesus, I mean, see what just talking about it does to me.” One large hand dwarfs your smaller one to press your palm to the hardening bulge in his swim trunks. 

You roll your eyes. “Please. The wind blows the wrong way and you get a boner,” you rebut. 

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Eddie says with a small groan. “Don’t say blows when I’m hard like this.”

“Can you be serious for two seconds?” Your temper is already short from the heat and the pregnancy, and his blasé attitude only makes it worse. 

Eddie cradles your cheeks in his hands. “I love you. And I love your body. I loved it before you were pregnant, and I’ll love it after, but watching you carrying our baby…fuckin’ does it for me.” He bites his lower lip as he drinks in the sight of you. “Goddamn, you look fuckin’ gorgeous like this.”

You think back to when the two of you first got together, when he’d made what you’d assumed was an offhand remark about knocking you up. Maybe it wasn’t as out of left field as you’d thought. 

As if he can read your mind, Eddie’s lips press soft kisses down your neck as he murmurs, “always dreamed about getting you pregnant. Would’ve done it a lot sooner if I’d known you’d be this sexy.” He runs a finger along a stretch mark that curves down your stomach. 

“H-How much sooner?” Curiosity asks the question for you as your back arches slightly from his touch. 

“That night,” he confirms, knowing he doesn’t have to elaborate further on what night he means, “but your stupid birth control pills ruined all my fun,” he adds with a teasing smirk. 

“They were so stupid. Sh-Should’ve stopped taking them the second I saw you.” Your voice is still timid from the emotions coursing through you, but Eddie can tell you’re finally letting him in.

Eddie throws his head back. “Fuck, baby. You got me all worked up.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” you tease, hands sliding up his wet chest and over the sparse hair. “What should we do about that?”

Eddie whines and leans in, nipping at your neck. 

“You know, I wasn’t a big fan of this bathing suit anyway,” you tell him. “The faster you get it on the floor, the faster you can be inside of me.”

Eddie gets your coverup and bathing suit off in record time. It would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t so turned on. His swim trunks go next and then Eddie is lifting you up onto the bathroom counter. There’s not much time to admire his fully naked body before he gets down on his knees in front of you. You wind your fingers through the hair on the top of his head and he looks up at you with wide, hungry eyes. That look alone has you practically dripping for him. 

Eddie keeps that eye contact with you as his hands force your legs further apart and he licks a broad stripe up your folds. You’re the one to end the staring contest when the pleasure overwhelms you and your eyes flutter closed, throwing your head back. It knocks against the mirror, but you’re too caught up to notice if it hurt or not. 

On the next swipe of Eddie’s tongue, he keeps going up so his tongue is trailing the swell of your belly as well. He presses hot kisses against your bump as he works his way back down again. He repeats the motion, next time taking time to either kiss or run his tongue along the stretch marks. The physical sensation feels amazing, but paired with the way Eddie is making you feel emotionally with his tender touch is making your heart thump even faster. 

Every little movement of his makes you feel more cared for, more cherished, and sexy. He’s built you up so high that you have to give a little tug on his curls so he pulls his mouth away from your pussy.

“Need you inside. Now.”

“Anything for the woman carrying my baby.”

You pull his mouth to yours and moan against his tongue as you feel his hands roam your body. His touch soothes over the areas of your breasts where you’ve memorized the stretch marks before moving down and caressing the ones on your stomach again. 

Eddie’s hands slide up to your hips and give a quick squeeze. He gently lifts you down from the counter and spins you around to face the mirror. You brace your hands on the counter as Eddie trails soft kisses up the side of your neck.

“Want you to see how fucking hot is when I fuck you like this,” he whispers in your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver throughout your body. 

You spread your legs, but Eddie wants them farther apart. He nudges them with his knee while he rubs a hand up and down your spine. He fists his cock a few times, making eye contact with you in the mirror as he does so. The way he’s looking at you has you whimpering and whining in anticipation.

Your noises make Eddie smirk, and he lines himself up with your entrance. As he pushes in, one hand snakes around your body and rests firmly on your baby bump. 

“Fuck,” Eddie groans. “I’ll never get over how fucking perfectly we fit together.” He punctuates his statement by tilting your chin slightly upwards so you have no choice but to see yourself in the mirror. You watch as he disappears inside you, your body obeying his every command. 

When you rock your hips back against his, Eddie slips his other hand around you to rub circles on your clit. His middle finger finds it easily, slipping through your soaked folds and pressing against the sensitive bud. The feeling is too much; you have to bite your lip to keep from screaming out—the last thing you need is the Harringtons hearing your pathetic whines. 

“God, I wanna fill you up so bad, baby,” Eddie hisses, snapping into you furiously as he takes in the view of your body; the view of you watching your body. “Shit, I’d make you pregnant twice over right now if I could.” 

“W-Would you always keep me pregnant if you could?” you manage to ask between gasps and whimpers—both yours and Eddie’s. 

“Fuck,” Eddie growls. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. “I’ll go buy a damn farm right now to raise all the babies I want to put in you.”

His words make you laugh, which has you squeezing around Eddie’s cock. He moans, drawing you impossibly close against his bare chest. 

“They’re babies, not sheep, Eddie.”

“Still need the space to run around,” he muses, making you laugh again.

“I love you so—-oh! So, so much, Eddie.”

 He’s ridiculously hard inside of you, fucking into you like his life depends on it. “Shit, I love you too, princess.” His middle finger makes more frantic circles around your clit, throwing you over the edge. “You’ve got a fuckin’ vice grip today, holy shit,” he breathes, willing himself not to finish too early while still being acutely aware of his surroundings. 

Your fingers dig into the countertop as each thrust brings you closer to your orgasm. “Right—right there,” you pant, fighting back a moan. “Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop.” You come, aided by his magic fingers and your raging hormones, with a soft whine of his name. 

“‘M right there, shit, you’re the best little fucktoy,” he grunts. The hint of degradation has you clenching around him again; of course, he immediately takes notice of it. “Y’like that? Y’like being my pregnant little fucktoy? Knocked up with my baby and still beggin’ for more?”

“Y-Yes, sir,” you stutter, smiling at the reaction your response brings. 

Eddie’s pistoning his hips into you, whispering directly in your ear, “So good, so fucking good f’me. Gonna come so deep in this little pussy, mkay? Gonna keep you pregnant, just like you want.” 

With a guttural groan, he spills into you. His breath is hot on your shoulder blade as he stays inside, not wanting to withdraw right away. You’re not complaining either, until—

“Are you two finished in there?” Steve’s irritated voice beckons from the other side of the door. Your already sweaty body heats up even more, realizing you’ve been found out. Something about it is also oddly hot, but it’s not the best time to think about that with Eddie still inside of you and Steve on the other side of the door. 

“Just a sec!” Eddie calls back, giving your earlobe a gentle nibble as he pulls out, scooping up the cum that’s dripping down your bare leg and stuffing it back into your pussy. “Had to clean you up,” he murmurs with a salacious grin. 

The two of you put your swimsuits back on and fix yourselves as best as you can before Eddie opens up the bathroom door. 

Steve just rolls his eyes, barreling past you as he mutters, “Dammit Munson; you already got her pregnant. Relax.”

[themotherofhorses]

pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader

summary: lucerys velaryon witnesses a moment he should've never laid eyes upon.

warnings: explicit language. fluff and girl dad!aemond. aemond also spits sexy poetry at his girl. uhhh lucerys signing his death warrant maybe???

notes: hehehehe i'm enjoying this pairing SO MUCH GUYS

his handmaid's tales | main masterlist

It is Lucerys Velaryon, three and ten, that catches onto the relationship, though it was by honest mistake on his part. Or a stupid decision, perhaps. He never meant to lay eyes on such an intimate yet indecent moment.

The dinner held an hour before was an embarrassment to his family, that he understood quite well. It was wrong for him to provoke his uncle into a fury and, even worse, to allow his temper to flare past reasonable judgment. His right cheek still throbbed where his uncle Aegon slammed him hard against the table, nicking his browbone with the edge of the plate. But it was the look his mother gave him that seemed to float before him in the hallway’s darkness, against the very stones of the Red Keep.

She was disappointed in him, very much so. Daemon too, probably.

Lucerys felt the great need to apologize.

It clambered up his throat and settled deep within his head, causing his stomach to roil and fingers to tremble.

He needed to apologize.

So he stands before his uncle Aemond’s chamber, counting his breaths in some wretched attempt to steel his nerves. One, two, three….four, five, six….he repeats in his mind, over and over, as his knuckles ghost over the door…but then he notices the slight crack between the two doors. His eyebrow raises. It is large enough to peer inside, where he hears a soft voice, young and feminine.

His mother always did say he was naturally curious during boyhood, but she also would say that curiosity killed the cat, and snooping was a nasty habit for a realm’s prince to pick up. Against his better nature, Lucerys leans in for a small peak.  

Lucerys recognizes her as his uncle’s personal handmaid- a young maid, fair and cheerful and beautiful. She smiled at him in the earlier hour, at both him and his brothers, when she passed by the three carrying a handful of freshly washed linens. He remembers it quite well, actually. Despite being clothed in plain servant rags, he had thought she was absolutely lovely. And she had been the only one to spare him a sliver of kindness, no prudence.

He saw her again later in the day, trailing after Aemond. His handmaid, Prince Daemon mumbled to his mother, a smirk on his lips. Ah, but a maid of her beauty does not stay one for long. His mother ignored that, and he tried to as well.

Inside the room, he sees the pretty handmaid rocking in a chair, clutching a tiny babe to her chest. Back and forth, forth and back.

No, he soon realizes, dark eyes widening. The babe is feeding from her breasts. Was she a wet nurse as well? Lucerys tilted his head at the thought. She did not look old enough to be considered one, the majority being well in his senior. He watches as she continues rocking, singing a lullaby beneath her breath before bringing the babe’s plump face to her lips for a kiss.

“The Mother gives the gift of life, and watches over every wife. Her gentle smile ends all strife, and she loves her little children….the Crone is very wise and old, and sees our fates as they unfold. She lifts her lamp of shining gold to lead the little children….”

His uncle then steps behind her, leaning to kiss her brow before her lips. “Isn’t she beautiful?” Lucerys hears the handmaid say, smiling up at Aemond. He grins, nodding. “Absolutely beautiful. A mirror of her mother, I’d say,” and he kneels to one knee beside the chair, pressing his forehead against her shoulder. He kisses the bare skin there- once, twice, thrice, and his mouth moves, but Lucerys cannot hear what he is telling her.

Whatever it is, though, it makes his handmaid giggle and shy away, shifting her gaze back on the babe.

“Are you happy?” she asks.

His nuncle sighs. “My girl, my love, I’ve told you before- I love anything and everything you give me,” and he reaches forward to take the babe in his arms, cuddling her close, “-but you have answered my wishes. You have given to me the most beautiful daughter, with your eyes and enchanting smile and nose.” Aemond glances at her, then bring her palm to his lips and mumbles against it, “And I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“I have only done my duty, my prince. I am, as always, your humble servant.”

Aemond rolls his eye. “If I could give it, the realm would be yours, and you would rule as its queen. No more a fucking servant.”

The handmaid shakes her head, laughing as she leans back in the rocking chair. “I have no need for a realm; I’m quite content in having your bed and children as mine, my love.”

Ah. His uncle Aemond One-Eye has bastards. How many, Lucerys does not know, but the babe swaddled within Aemond’s arms is his and the handmaid’s, no doubt. He wants to let out the bark of bitter laughter bubbling inside his chest, to scream at the heavens and curse out any listening gods, before running to tell Jacaerys and Lady Baela and his Rhaena. Lucerys turns his attention back to his uncle. How dare he mock his bastard origins when he himself is fathering his own handmaid’s children.

To the health of my nephews- Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…strong. ‘Twas only a compliment…do you not think yourself strong?

How dare he act any better. How fucking dare he. Aemond’s words did not wound him as much as before, not with the bastard baby lying in his arms.

It leaves Lucerys’s head pounding to the same beat as his heart. Bum. Bum. Bum. But then his breath hitches in his throat when his uncle lifts his head up, a lone purple eye meeting his own. Aemond gives him a cool stare. Dead. Dead. Dead. He rises to his feet, gently resting his daughter back in her mother’s arms, before standing in front of his handmaid, barring any further view of her.

“Aemond, what is it?”

Lucerys quickly pulls back from the door, stumbling and falling on his ass. All he can hear now is his heart hammering in both his ears and his uncle’s heavy footsteps looming closer and closer. “Aemond?” the handmaid’s voice calls out, loud and honeyed. “Where are you going?”

To murder me, the prince thinks, jumping to his feet. He turns to sprint down the hallway, braving only one final glance over his shoulder. What he sees terrifies him.

Aemond stands at the door, staring at him with a narrowed eye. The same glare he gave him during the dinner, cold and filled with pure animosity. If the Stranger was to be a mortal man, Lucerys would believe him to be his uncle, especially at this moment. There is a message twisted in his sharp features, in the furrow of his brows, the sneer curled on his lips, and the dagger clasped in his hand.

He won’t live much longer, less if his tongue shares what he witnessed tonight.

[whydoeseveryonewanttobangchan]

🍆 So you can feel me even when I’m not there… 🍆

✎ Pairing: Chan x fem!reader

✎ Genre: Sad smut

✎ Summary: Chan’s on tour, but he’s found a way to be attentive even when he’s overseas.

✎ CW: Phone sex, FaceTime sex, dirty talk, sex toy use, swears, praise kink, daddy kink, general sadness

✎ Word count: 3,604

✎ Song recs: “Baby I’m Yours” - Arctic Monkeys & “Even When I’m Not With You” - Pierce the Veil

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

Two days.

It had only been two days since you saw him last, when he dragged himself out of bed at 3 in the morning to head to the airport.

He’d made you come four times before bed that night — once for each day he’d be gone — and held you tight while you slept. He even kissed you goodbye four times before leaving in the morning. But it wasn’t enough; nothing could ever be enough.

Even on his busiest days, you could at least look forward to him crawling into bed at night. He’d slide in behind you, pulling you into his chest as he drifts off, or maybe lightly pressing his hips into yours to see if you’d be down for a quickie. Sometimes you’d both be so tired he’d just slip his cock into you and gently roll his hips until he found release or simply fell asleep.

But the nights he was gone were almost unbearable. You’d wake up just before dawn to a dark room and an empty bed, immediately filled with fear that something happened to stop him from coming home to you. Then it hits you that he’s not supposed to come home, and somehow that’s even worse.

Two nights in a row waking up with that feeling has you losing it. The ache in your chest and your cunt only grows, and there’s nothing a weighted blanket or vibrator could do about either sensation. You need him.

Hey, baby

Malaysia is only an hour behind, but he’s probably sleeping after the early morning trip. He’ll reply later.

You try to go about your morning routine as best you can, but you can’t take your mind off his absence. Coffee, oatmeal, an empty seat at your table for two. Movie, blanket, a cold cushion on the loveseat. His scent is fading from the sweatshirt you haven’t taken off since the morning he left.

He needs his rest, but you need to hear his voice, see his words. Anything from him at this point.

Baby…

Luckily, he answers quickly this time.

Yeah love ?

I miss you…

I miss you too sweetheart

No I mean I…

I MISS you

I see hahahaha

:( don’t laugh

A voice message comes next.

“Naur, I’m sorry baby,” his silky voice pours out of the speaker. “Didn’t mean to make fun. You’re just cute… and predictable. Hehehehe.”

It takes a few listens to comprehend what he’s actually saying to you. The sound of his words and his laugh and his breath are exactly what you needed. And you’re sure he knows that, because he sends another text before you can compose yourself enough to reply.

Doing ok over there?

As best as I can… thank you

I wanna hear you too ㅠㅠㅠ

“Hiiii. I love youuuu. I miss yooouuuu,” you coo into the mic and send it off.

Adorable

Hey… what are you doing now?

Watching a movie

Ok if I call… ?

Of course :)

The Arctic Monkeys’ rendition of “Baby I’m Yours” plays and his goofy smile pops up on your screen. You almost always spend a few seconds distractedly staring at this photo you took before answering his calls.

“Hi, honey.”

Your voice is soft and sweet, matching the expression on your boyfriend’s face. One hand is pressed between the hotel pillow and his messy hair, and his sleepy, cinnamon eyes look right into the camera.

“Just woke up, thinking about yooouuuuu…” he croons, dragging out the last word just as you did in your voice note. “What are you watching?”

“I don’t know, I just clicked on whatever Netflix suggested,” you reply. “Just trying to distract myself.”

“Is it good at least?” he asks, still gazing at you in complete adoration.

“It’s fine, I don’t care,” you insist, more interested in listening to the beautiful boy on your phone talk about literally anything. “How about you? Tell me about the tour.”

“Ahhh,” he starts, shifting his glance offscreen. “First show went well, another today.”

His eyes are pointed just under the camera now, and a tiny smile spreads across his lips.

“It’s beautiful here,” he says. “I keep thinking about experiencing all of this with you, though. We’ll have to come back.”

“Yeah, sure,” you answer dazedly. Hearing him say romantic shit with those lips… looking at you with those eyes… it’s mystifying.

When you started dating, his excitement would turn to concern when you zoned out like this, but now he knows better, and his smile only widens.

“I love you,” he says softly and stifles a giggle. “But hey, I gotta go. They need us for some press thing soon.”

You can’t hide the frown that pulls at the corners of your mouth.

“I know, I know,” he consoles. “I’ll be free later, and I’ll text you, yeah?”

“Ok, have a good day, talk to you later,” you answer weakly.

“Hey, 힘내. I’ll make it worth it,” he winks.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

He blows a kiss and then he’s gone, leaving you to stare at your sad reflection on the black screen.

The minutes, then the hours pass. True crime episodes, supernatural thrillers, nothing can hold your attention. You’re drowning in thoughts of him, and every tiny chime from your phone sends your heart rate to the moon. It’s never him, but it doesn’t stop you from hoping.

A characteristically slow episode of this week’s hottest dating show has you half asleep, and you almost miss the alert you’ve been waiting for. Luckily, it’s followed by his ringtone a minute later.

“Hiiii??” you answer groggily.

“Hey, baby, enjoy your nap?”

Chan’s voice is barely louder than a whisper, and you decide a low grunt is enough to answer his question.

“Hehehe, I can’t talk but wanted to make sure you were up. Check your texts. Byyyeeee!”

He’s gone again, and you muster enough strength to navigate to your messages just in time to see the original text before a new one pops up.

Still filming, but I miss you too much

Get any deliveries today?

Not that I know of but let me check

You pad to the door, feeling the cool wood on your feet for the first time in hours. A quick peek into the hallway outside of the apartment reveals a medium-sized, plain cardboard box.

You bring it back to the couch — today’s haven — and drape the blanket back over you before placing the box in your lap and checking your phone.

흠…

Come baaccckkkk

There’s a box… what did you do

Did you open it?

The tape breaks easily, and inside is a note stamped with three small hearts sitting atop delicately folded tissue paper. Underneath, you find some lingerie, a mask, and two boxes varying in size.

Inside the first is a small suction toy, and the second contains a silicone dildo packaged with another note.

So you can feel me even when I’m not there…

A closer inspection reveals ridges and curves that seem almost familiar. You close your fingers around the base and slowly drag your hand toward the tip, feeling the same veins press against your fingers. How did he…

Is this…

Akskdnsnsksjsjskdjdnskskdjdnd

It was supposed to ship before I left I’m sorry it’s late

How the fuck did you do this

Will you try it out for me later?

I want to know how close it is to the real thing and you know it best

Chan oh my god

I’ll call in an hour when I’m back in my room ok…?

See you soon!!!

Of course he’d do something like this without warning you, but the timing couldn’t be better. What better to fill the hole left by his absence than, well, him.

A quick shower and trash run later, you settle in on the couch right as your phone rings for the third time today.

“Hey, sexy,” he hums. “Do you like your gifts?”

“Waited for you to try them out, but they do seem promising,” you tease, angling your phone down just enough to get some cleavage in frame. One corner of his mouth pulls back in a smirk, putting that dimple on full display.

“Cute… I’ve wanted to see you in that for weeks. But I do have a question, a proposition I guess…”

“Yeah? What would that be?”

“Can you prop up your phone so I can see you, and put the blindfold on?”

Hot, but also…

“So… I can’t see you then?”

“I want it to feel like I’m there, like I’m the one touching you, making you feel good,” he says as a light blush spreads across his cheeks. “I read somewhere this helps.”

“Oh, well, ok, yeah. You’ll keep talking though?”

“Of course, baby. I’ll talk you through it all.”

“Ok, hold on.”

You make quick work of leaning your phone against one of the many glasses on the coffee table, ensuring the whole couch is in clear view before stepping back and slowly sitting down. The suction toy rests on the cushion to your left, and the dildo on the right.

“Perfect, ok, now put the dildo on the floor,” Chan says. “There’s suction on the bottom, you can just stick it to the wood.”

You secure his cock on the ground between the couch and the table, and everything in you screams to just sit on it now and never take it out ever again. But he has other plans, so you’ll save that fantasy for later and sit back on the couch.

“Blindfold time, sweetheart.”

A deep breath in, and you slide the silk down over your eyes and place your hands on your knees, awaiting further instruction.

“All good?” Chan asks, excitement and concern laced together in his voice. “You can hear me ok?”

“Mhm, yeah. Ready when you are.”

Another giggle fills the space, and it’s clear he was right. In the dark, it’s easier to pretend he isn’t hundreds of miles away. Like he’s here, standing above you.

“I love that you got all dressed up for me,” he says, slow and low. “Can I see your pretty panties, too?”

Hands still on your knees, you gradually spread your legs until your calves hit the couch.

“That’s perfect, baby. They look so good on you, on your skin. I wish I could touch your skin,” he rambles a bit, then pauses before continuing. “Can you describe it for me?”

“My skin?”

“Yeah, touch yourself. Tell me how it feels.”

You place your fingertips just under your chin, lightly dragging them along your neck, down to your chest.

“It’s…. soft, smooth. I put that lotion you like on after my shower.”

“You did? Where else did you put it?”

“On my chest, my stomach, my thighs…” you respond, running your fingers down your body as you go.

“And your inner thighs? There, too?”

“Of course.”

He lets out a shuddering breath as your hand travels down to your legs, moving out to your knee via the top of your thigh and heading back on the soft, sensitive skin on your inner thigh. Fingertips stop just between thigh and crotch.

“What about between your legs? Can you tell me how it feels there?”

You slide a finger under the fabric, gliding across the freshly shaved skin with help from the slickness of your arousal. You make a point to bend your finger so your knuckle presses outward, making it clear exactly where you’re touching yourself — for the yearning viewer’s sake.

“It’s wet, silky… delicate.”

“Silky, huh? And how do you feel when you touch yourself there?”

“Good,” you reply a little too quickly, revealing the truth behind the calm, composed roles you’d both been playing. You’re sure he’s chuckling at you right now. If only you could see his face…

“How does that compare to when I touch you there?”

Thoughts immediately snap to him, his fingers, doing what you’re doing. Emulating his typical movements in the dark has you almost, almost convinced it is him. Him teasing you, tormenting you before unexpectedly dipping a finger or two inside. Asking how badly you want him, want his big cock…

“Baby, tell me what you’re feeling.”

“You,” you admit. “I feel… you.”

“Yeah?” he chirps, a hint of pride in his voice. “What am I doing? What do you want me to do?”

“Fuck me.”

“I don’t know if you’re ready for me yet. Gotta stretch you out first, play with your clit a little. Can you grab that toy for me?”

You reach for the suction toy on your left, hovering just over it until he confirms that’s what he wants.

“Yeah, use that for me. On your clit. It should feel like my mouth...”

You raise your hips to slide the thong down, giving yourself a better chance to use this correctly. Pointer and middle fingers spread your folds as you try your best to aim in the darkness.

The suction feels… strange. Interesting? You reposition it a few times and it’s nice, but not like oral, though. And you must look frustrated, because…

“Wow, it is really like I’m there…” Chan muses.

“Huh? How?”

“It’s just… taking you a bit… to find…” he giggles.

“Oh, shut up, you’re so… oh…”

Yep, there it is. The silicone circle surrounds the sensitive nub and pulls inward. It’s just like lips… and tongue… and Chan… relentlessly sucking and pulling with his face buried between your thighs and his hands gripping your hips and your fingers lodged in his hair…

It’s so good but it’s so much. Your head is spinning and your heart is racing and your toes curl down into the wood trying to ground yourself in any way you can. Your free hand alternates between squeezing the life out of the couch cushion and running along your skin — down your thighs, up your chest, through your hair. Nails dragging and leaving marks like you would on him, on his chest, on his back…

“Baby, come for me.”

His voice breaks through the haze like lightning cracking down from the sky, sending electric tingles through your veins. A strained cry escapes your throat as you do exactly what he said, what he ordered.

The high is short but intense, and you’re shaking well past the end. You let the toy fall to the couch and lean back, enjoying the aftershocks.

“You look so beautiful like that,” he hums.

“Mhhhmmm,” you sigh. “Hope you enjoyed the show.”

“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” Chan whispers, but it’s louder now. Like his mouth is right next to the mic. “I want you to ride me.”

Finally.

You maneuver down to the floor and feel for the rigid silicone. You position your knees on either side and slightly in front of the dildo, then lower your ass down toward your feet until the tip brushes against your folds.

“Want daddy to spread you open? Split your walls around my cock?”

“Please,” you beg, reaching down to play with your swollen clit while rolling your hips forward and back, just rubbing the head against you.

“Spit in your hand and rub it on me.”

You do as you’re told again, coating the dildo in your saliva. It’s amazing how much it feels like him.

“Put me in… just a little.”

You angle the head into you. It’s just as big as him, and just as much of a shock when the tip disappears inside your body. You have inches to go, but you’re already starting to feel whole again.

“How does it feel?”

“Amazing, it’s so real. It feels like you.”

“It is me, baby. You feel so good, too. Can you pull your hair for me?”

The thought of it makes you moan, and the tug on the back of your scalp only increases the volume. You inch down slowly, giving yourself time to adjust to his size and appreciate every single vein and curve as it forces your walls apart. He stretches you out so well…

“Take me all the way. Now.”

A pained groan sounds out as you force yourself down to the floor, burying Chan’s cock in you down to his balls. The sound of them slapping against your soaked pussy makes both of you moan.

“Fuck yourself on my cock.”

You carefully raise and lower your hips, still not fully acclimated to his size. Each lift-up is bittersweet relief, and each push-down is delicious torment. You go faster and faster each time, urged on by his groans.

“Take off your bra. I wanna see your tits bounce for me.”

Fingers undo the clasp and you slide the garment over your shoulders and down your arms, still rolling your hips up and down, angling him into every inch of flesh inside you.

“Play with your nipple… wet your fingers and pinch it like I do. I want to hear you whine.”

This time, You use the wetness from your pussy to dampen your fingers before running one hard nipple between finger and thumb. His moans encourage you to reach down to gather more, but this time, you slide three fingers into your mouth and close your lips. You drag them out slowly, knowing it will drive him wild.

“Wanna taste me, baby?” you ask.

“More than anything in the world. What is it like?”

“Hmmmm,” you muse, taking time to wrap your tongue around each individual finger in the lewdest way possible. “Sweet… and salty.”

“Mmm, I want to lick you clean,” he confesses, “eat you for every single meal. I wanna live between your thighs.”

You fuck yourself faster now, bouncing up and down on his dick. He fills you up perfectly and completely, like he was made to your exact specifications. And this was made to his.

“Feels so good… so big…” you exhale, placing one hand behind you to steady yourself and using the other to twist and tweak your nipple.

“Yeah… and you feel so tight, you take my cock so well. Can you roll your body how I like?”

Shoulders back first, you wind your torso forward and back, taking extra care to roll your hips on his cock. Back and forth, back and forth. His name on your lips.

“That’s it, just like that. Good girl.”

Skin slaps from both ends of the call, and your shaky exhales happen almost in perfect unison. He must be close, and so are you.

“Ch… choke yourself. Squeeze that pretty neck.”

Fingers leave your tit to grip your neck and force your head back, just like he does when he leans in, hot breath on your skin, sucking hickeys into any flesh not hidden by his long fingers. Biting your ear, pulling down at the lobe and letting it snap back as you grind into his lap. Fucking yourself on his big cock at your own pace, tits bouncing in his face. He’ll catch a nipple between teeth if he can, biting down hard and letting go quickly. Just kissing and sucking and nipping at your skin like an animal… like a…

“Oh fuck!” you cry out, washed over by a wave of unstoppable pleasure. “I’m… Chan… I’m…”

“That’s it, come for me, come on me,” he hisses.

His cock relentlessly slams into you throughout your orgasm, so rhythmically you forget it’s not really him fucking you to pieces in his lap.

“Oh god… oh fuck, you… oh fuck…” he moans, finishing right after you in typical him fashion.

Vision blurs until you come back down, slowing your vertical pace until you’re sitting on him, motionless. He’s quiet now, too, undoubtedly recovering from his own orgasm.

“You are, that was…” he starts then trails off, opting to focus on breathing instead.

The tinny sound of his voice is almost a surprise. You practically forgot he wasn’t there. Forgot he wasn’t lying in ruins in the dark next to you.

You pull the blindfold off and toss it to the floor. He’s in a similar position as you, sitting at the foot of the bed looking wiped as hell.

“So… what’s the verdict?” Chan asks between deep breaths and sighs.

“It’s great. Not as good as the real thing, but close,” you decide.

“You look so amazing using it. Watching it slide in and out of you… god. It felt like a dream.”

Your eyes meet — as much as they can over FaceTime. You’re captivated by the image of him: shirtless, cock taut against his toned stomach, half hidden by the elastic waistband of his shorts. Eyeshadow is smeared around his wide, caramel eyes while a soft smile plays at his lips.

“I love you,” he says softly, breaking the silence.

“I love you,” you echo.

A few more seconds of quiet admiration, then he makes the face. The one he breaks out just before delivering bad news.

“Hey, I gotta get ready to head to the venue,” he says, glancing down at his watch. “I’m already a little late, oops.”

“That’s ok, thank you for… everything. Really,” you reply, still too far up in the clouds to be sad about yet another goodbye.

“I love you, I’ll text you after the show, yeah?”

“Perfect. Oh, and just so you know, I will be sleeping with this inside me tonight.”

His sullen expression fades into that famous smile, and it’s aimed at you.

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” he says with a chuckle and a wink. “Now I just need a replica of you…”

“We’ll make one when you get home.”

“Perfect.”

[a-hazbin-reader]

Hehehehe what about Vox and a fem!S/O that makes it a habit to fluster him or smother his techy butt in affection? I really just wanna take care of this stressed and overworked man whdiskansoskns-

Oh I suppose we can throw him a bone~

Vox X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: None I think??

Description: ☝️⬆️

Vox is probably the most stressed out of all the V's, not necessarily because of his workload but because of his temperament

A lot of little things get to him even though he tries not to show it

So he really appreciates having you as his S/O, especially on those days where he's losing his shit, because your affectionate nature helps him focus on something else

On those days, you manage to get him to lay down and accept a back massage from you, and you only tickle his sides a little

You couldn't help it

Sometimes, he actually falls asleep only to wake up to you lying on top of him, arms wrapped around his chest

Or you kiss the side of his screen and hug his neck while he vents to you, holding you securely in his lap

He doesn't want solutions, he just wants you to listen and keep cooing at him like you agree with him

Sometimes all he needs is just a hug from his favorite person in the world and you are more than willing to give it

He could die happy wrapped in your arms and breathing in your scent, your fingers gently caressing the edges of his screen

He loves how affectionate you are with him, knows that he would probably been driven mad by now if it weren't for you in his life

But if you do it in public or around the V's?? He's absolutely mortified and will actually just fizzle out right then and there

Not that you care, you'll take care of him

He's on tv doing his show? No matter, you blow him kisses from behind the camera until he's too flustered to go on, ending it earlier so he can go to you

Definitely doesn't cash in on all those smooches you were blowing his way

Not you interrupting a meeting with the V's because he forgot his phone, you practically demanding a kiss goodbye before you go

"Y/N, we're in a meeting I can't just-"

"I won't leave without a proper kiss!"

Smooch

Not Valentino hooting and hollering at you two as you grip onto your mans and really kiss him

Vox is so dazed by the time you scamper off, flopping back into his chair and hardly registering anything being said

...he definitely had his phone in his pocket before he left...he just didn't check after you pulled him in for a hug...

Did you pickpocket him just to kiss him at work!? In front of his friends!?

And now his screen went dark

The two of you are going out somewhere? You insist on holding his hand and kissing it at every opportunity, gazing up at him innocently

He chokes on his own spit

Even when you aren't awake you're so affectionate

Vox tries to get out of bed and get an early start on the day? Not unless he's taking you with him, your sleepy arms wrapped around him like a vice

More often than not, Vox is seen carrying you around while he sips his coffee, you peacefully dozing against him

You always rub your face on him, practically purring in your sleep because you're so content to snuggle him

He's blushing the entire time while trying to keep a neutral or annoyed look on his face, sipping his drink while scrolling through the news

If anybody mentions it then they're fired

If you ever wear lipstick or anything like that? You bet Vox is stumbling out of closets and rooms covered in kiss marks, blushing furiously

You look so innocent when you step out behind him, like you didn't nearly take his soul

Don't worry, you'll clean him up~

You give him affection and love so freely that it's difficult for him not to be embarrassed, not used to such a thing

He does try to reciprocate but it's not nearly as easy for him as it is for you, but he wants you to know he feels the same

So every once in awhile when you two are alone, he'll pull you into his lap and kiss the back of your neck in an attempt to hide his blush

"You know I'd be so lost without you, right?"

Now he's just asking for you to kiss him until he's begging for mercy

"Y/N W-WAIT!"

I had a lot of fun with this one! I hope it was okay!

[doitforbangchan]

honeyy, as you can see... i'm missing my people so much 😭 can we get jinnie - getting rid of the boys - and sneaking into omega's room to spend the night with her when channie's away, please? 🥹❤️

heheheh i love this idea it is very cute 😍thanx bb i hope you like it

ABANB Drabble 02

"This is a long grocery list, Hyune. Are you sure you need all of it?" Felix asked, looking at the texted list that Hyunjin had sent him.

*cough* " Yeah, m' sure. I need everything on that list to feel better." Hyunjin faked another cough, thankful that he was only speaking on the phone or else Felix would have seen the sly grin on the other betas face.

Everyone was out of the house right now. Felix, Jisung and Minho were out shopping, Changbin and Jeongin were at the gym,  Seungmin had gone to visit his family for the weekend and Chan had left this morning for a client meeting. That only left Hyunjin alone… With you. A rare moment he would not pass up on. Hyunjin had not had any time with his omega in what felt like centuries ( about 4 days) and he was beginning to go crazy. 

You were just getting over a cold, having spent too much time dancing in the rain with Jisung a few days prior. Jisung hadn’t gotten sick somehow but you weren’t so lucky. You were feeling much better now but still not one hundred percent so you (more like Minho) thought it better to rest a little more. Your cold gave Hyunjin the perfect cover- ‘somehow’ you had given him your illness so he just had to stay home today while everyone else ran errands. 

He added for good measure, “Plus, Baby would benefit from a lot of that stuff too.” 

That seemed to do it as he heard Felix hum in agreement. “I suppose so. Alright then we will grab it while we’re out, but we may be gone a little longer than usual. Are you gonna be ok taking care of yourself for a while?” 

*cough* “I think so.” He hid his snicker behind the cough. 

The phone was snatched out of Felix’s hand, a loud ‘HEY’ being heard then Minho’s voice rang through the phone. “Do not go bothering Baby while we’re out. She needs to recover and get her rest, and she can’t do that if you’re up her ass the whole time.” 

‘Oh if only you knew just how up her ass I can be, Minho’ Hyunjin thought snarkily. “I won’t. I Promise.” 

Minho scoffed and Hyunjin could imagine how the elder beta was rolling his eyes, “ Yeah right. Get some rest, Hyune.” 

Min had ended the call before he could respond, the line cutting with a quiet beep. Hyunjin pocketed his phone and stood from his place on the couch. The beta listened for any sign of life but heard nothing except the muffled voices coming from the tv in your nesting room where you were resting. He was giddy as he ascended the steps to the second floor, a fluttering in his stomach that he never grows old of was making him jittery and he couldn't fight the smile that lingered on his lips. 

Hyunjin approached your door and gave a tentative knock on the wood. He heard the tv pause and a light shuffle, then a quiet “Come in.” Your voice was still slightly scratchy. 

The beta slowly cracked the door open and peeping his head inside, his long hair swaying with the movement brought a little crackly giggle out of you. “Hi beautiful, how are you feelin’? He asked, taking in how cute you looked snuggled up in your nest.  

“Hi Jinnie. M’ feeling ok, still a little under but definitely better.” You replied, “What about you? Did I get you sick too?” 

He shrugged, “Ah a little, no big deal.” He faked another cough, turning away for a second. Hyunjin needed a way in and playing with your nurturing instincts was the way to go. You seldom let the boys enter your nest, only when you deemed it necessary. 

“Oh Jinnie I’m sorry! How about you come cuddle with me, maybe the body heat will help with your fever!” Bingo. 

*cough cough* “I can’t just invade your nest like that Baby. I’ll be ok.” *Sniffle* 

“Nonsense. You get your skinny little butt in here Hyunjin.” You waved him in with a stern look on your face. 

“Well, if you insist.” He wasted no time before shuffling over to you and flinging himself into your nest next to you. He cuddled up close when you wrapped your arms around him. 

You placed your lips softly upon his forehead, feeling a light fever in the warmness of his skin. “Hm you are warm. Lay down. I have some tea on the bedside- you should drink some, it will help your throat.” He wanted to swoon, even when you yourself were feeling bad you still took care of him in his ‘time of need’. You weren’t lying when you said you felt a fever on his skin though. 

“You’re the best, Baby. What are we watchin?” 

“Greys anatomy.” You picked up the remote and resumed the program. 

“Again? Haven’t you seen every episode like.. Four times?” 

“Shhhhhh” You hushed him, “This is a good part, their plane is about to crash.” 

You both settled in together, cuddled up watching the drama series with drooping eyes. That is where the other members of the pack found you later; both asleep wrapped around each other. Minho grumbled about Hyunjin being a liar and Felix giggled and took pictures to print out later. 

Hyunjin woke up a few hours later with a scratchy throat and a very real congestion in his nose.

Worth it.

©doitforbangchan

@jehhskz

[hisonlykiwi]

"stargazing"

synopsis: you cross paths with the infamous satoru gojo. according to everyone on campus, he is an egotistical, arrogant, reckless, man whore. but after a night out with satoru, he debunks what the rumors say and turns out you two have more in common than you thought.

paring: satoru gojo x reader

wc: 4.4k

warnings: mentions of grief and death

a/n: i actually had so much fun writing about satoru, i'm planning on making this is series heheheh

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

“Your turn.” Utahime says, gently shaking your shoulder, interrupting you from your thoughts. You gaze over at the empty wine bottle sitting in the middle of your group of friends. God, what’s with college students and their love for spin the bottle?

You let out a huff in annoyance, “Actually guys, I’m going to go get a drink, I’m not in the mood.” You say, excusing yourself and getting up from the floor. “Booooooring!” You hear Choso say, you shoot him a glare and a middle finger to match.

Not bothering to respond, you exit out of the room and head downstairs. Not in the mood to deal with anyone. Should’ve never come to this stupid party, you thought to yourself. The music is getting louder the closer you approach the stairs, the party downstairs still lively as ever. The faint smell of weed and sweat lingering in the air.

To your luck, there’s a couple eating each other’s faces at the top of the stairs making it hard for anyone to pass them. “Excuse me.” You say, your voice falling short thanks to the blaring music. “Hello? I said excuse me.” You say to the couple. Again, no response. Another sigh escapes your lips, guess it’s a no on getting another drink.

If it was any other day, you would've probably just shoved them out of the way but today has just been fucking exhausting.  Somehow you let your best friend, Utahime, convince you to go to this house party to “take your mind off everything” and frankly, this party was only making everything worse. 

You walk away and wander the hallways of the house instead, it’s probably the biggest house you’ve ever been, to be honest. Who did Utahime say this house belonged to again? Was it Goto? Gejo? Godo? Gojo? Yeah, who knows but whoever it is, that man has exquisite taste.

You make your way over to a door at the end of the very long hallway, there were no people by this side of the house, and it was much quieter than where you were previously. Very much needed. The thought of having some peace and quiet brought some comfort to your aching chest.

To your surprise, the door farthest from the stairs and everyone was open, you made your way in. The room was decorated the same way as the rest of the house. Modern, clean, well decorated. You looked over to your right and spotted a balcony, perfect, you thought to yourself. 

You put your hand on the handle and opened the balcony door, the cool, night breeze hitting your face. It felt… nice. Completely opposite to how you were feeling on the inside. You closed the door behind, there was a table accompanied by two chairs and you decided to take a seat. The music was a distant hum in the background.

You took a deep breath and looked up to the night sky, the stars decorated across the dark sky. The stars were shining so beautifully but there was a particular star, bigger than the others, it almost seemed to be winking at you. You softly smiled to yourself and hugged yourself. 

It’s the 5-year anniversary of your baby sister’s accident and death. Grief is a funny thing; you think the pain is gone and then something as random as washing the dishes will set the emotions off again. You think you’ve moved on because years have passed but grief will keep reaching back and make you feel like drowning all over again and tonight felt like that. 

The lump you had been holding in your throat got bigger and heavier and before you knew it, a small sob escaped your lips and a cascade of tears started to come out. It never gets easier, does it? 

You felt a vibration go off in your pocket, a text from your best friend flashed on the screen of your phone.

Utahime: You okay?

You set the phone down on the table in front of you, not having the energy to text back at the moment. 

“Rough night?” You jumped at the sound of a man a few feet away. Your head felt so full of thoughts and emotions, you hadn’t realized someone had opened the balcony door. 

“Fuck, you scared me.” You say to the man, trying your best to wipe the tears with the sleeve of your shirt. “My apologies, I should’ve announced my presence a little louder.”  The stranger chuckled and put his hands up. You felt him walk towards you, “Here, take this.” You looked up to see the object in his hand, a simple white handkerchief. 

You carefully took the handkerchief from his hands and wiped the rest of your tears before looking back over at him. The stranger stood tall, his white hair illuminating beautifully against the moonlight. 

You let out a slight sniffle before saying “Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone else would be here. I just needed to get away from the party for a little.” He takes a seat across from you, “Yeah, tell me about it. There are too many insufferable people attending, anyway.” The stranger says whilst looking up at the night sky, just like how you were doing minutes before.

A silence fell upon you two as you stared at the man, unsure of what to say. His white hair was such a stunning contrast against the dark blue of the night and his bright baby blue eyes that reminded you of your favorite flower, the myosotis scorpioides. 

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you before.” He said, looking back over at you and meeting your eyes. “Probably not, I hardly go to parties. I’m not sure why I thought tonight was any exception.” You respond to him with a small shrug of your shoulders.

He gives you a soft smile, “I assume the reason was due to peer pressure from people or your friends perhaps?” You stifle a small laugh at his spot-on assumption, “Ding Ding Ding!” His eyes crinkle in amusement and he chuckles slightly “I’m going to take that as a very strong, yes?” 

“You hit the hammer right on the nail, stranger. Were you dragged to the party too?” He looks at the star-littered night sky, the smile on his face never disappearing. “Something like that.” 

Despite his cheerful aura, you couldn’t help but think there was a hidden sadness to him. 

“How about you? Having a rough night too?” You ask him to cause him to let out a snort, “Rough night, rough day, rough life. This time of the year is always quite the hassle for me.” 

“God, tell me about it.” You say with a sigh, thinking of your baby sister. He nods in agreement, tilting his head back slightly and stretching his arms. 

“I’m Satoru, by the way, I don’t think I caught your name?” You say your first name to him, and Satoru cocks his head softly, studying you closely, taking in your features. “Pretty name, it suits you.” 

The loud ringing of your phone startled you, causing you to jump in your seat. You hear a small laugh come from Satoru’s direction. You playfully roll your eyes at him and see Utahime’s name flashed on the caller I.D. 

You: “Hello?” 

Utahime: “Finally! Are you okay? You ran off on us and never responded to my text.”

You: “Yeah, I’m okay, sorry I got caught up talking with a, uh, friend. I’ll come back in a bit.” 

Utahime: “Make it soon because you already missed out on Choso and Nanami smooching.” 

You: “No fucking way! I would’ve pay such good money to have seen that, are you kidding me? Please tell me someone took a picture.”

Utahime: “What kind of best friend do you think I am? You already know I did.”

You: “Of course you did but hey, I’ll text you when I’m on the way back, okay?”

You hung up the phone and apologized to Satoru for taking the call. I’m a friend, hmm?” Satoru smirked over at you. “Shut up, I didn’t know what else to say, I just learned your name two seconds ago.” You playfully respond, crossing your arms over your chest.

 “Well, since we're “friends” now, I believe it is only right for you to ditch this party with me.” He looks amused, “Ditch this party, huh? Now why would I do that?” You say, raising your eyebrows at him. “Because I’m craving something sweet and who else better to go with than with my new friend?” You looked at the time on your phone, “You want to drag me away from this party to go get sweets at… 1 AM?” 

He gives you a small hum and grins. What’s the worst thing that can happen? You’re already having the shittest of days, having a sweet treat with a stranger can’t hurt. After contemplating for a few seconds, you give him a smirk, “You make a hard bargain, Satoru. Lead the way.”

You put the handkerchief Satoru had given you in your pocket and follow behind him. “I’m going to assume you have a place in mind?” Satoru placed his hands in his pockets and continued leading the way out towards the party that was still happening downstairs. “You think I’m going to invite you out to eat and not have a place in mind? C’mon have a little faith in me.” 

His comment had earned a small laugh from you. You kept following close behind him, making sure to not lose him in the sea of people. Not like it’s possible anyway, hard to miss the tall guy with the remarkable white hair. 

You pulled out your phone really quick to shoot Utahime a quick text that you’re leaving. 

You: I’m leaving with a guy named Satoru to go get something to eat really quick. (:

You put the phone back in your pocket and see Satoru glancing back down at you, “Was that your best friend?” He asks, you give him a small nod. Before you realize it, you two have made it outside and you’re in front of a vehicle and a random man is opening the door for you and Satoru?

“Thanks, Ijichi” You hear Satoru say to the man. Satoru turns to you and moves out of the way to let you into the car first. “Thank you.” You say to the man, Ijichi, who was propping the door open for you, and he gives you a smile in return. 

Satoru follows in after you and takes a seat beside you. “You have your own personal driver?” You whisper to him, Satoru chuckles and tilts his head slightly to the side, glancing at you. “I do, it comes with being who I am, but please don’t think of me as some privileged brat.” You have confusion written all over your face, what is he talking about?

“Where to, Mr. Gojo?” You hear the man ask up front. Gojo? Who is Gojo? Satoru responds to him, naming a late-night diner a bunch of the college students from school like to hang out at after they’ve gotten hammered after a night out. Ah, that’s Gojo. You stop, feeling the wheels in your brain turning, wait Gojo? As in?

You felt a vibration coming from your phone and open your phone to see a text back from your best friend. 

Utahime: Satoru? You mean as in, Satoru Gojo? THE ultimate snobby, rich kid whose family owns this house Gojo??

Utahime’s text confirmed your suspicions, holy shit, that was Satoru’s house?

“Heyyy, I’m not snobby.” You hear Satoru playfully scoff beside you who was peering at your phone, “Rich? Filthy. Snobby? Nope.” He continued, popping the P. “Satoru!! That’s an invasion of privacy.” You whine, giving him a playful shove at his shoulder. You lock your phone and put it back in your pocket, making a mental note to text your best friend back. “Not an invasion of privacy if your topic is me.” He gives you a sly smirk. You roll your eyes at his statement.

“Wait wait, let me get this straight, you’re the Gojo I keep hearing things about on campus?” You say, turning your body to face him. “In the flesh, sweetheart.” Satoru responds, he grins widely at the realization on your face. “I’m sure you heard all kinds of things, huh?” He continued, leaning back further in the seat of the car and spreading his legs slightly. Your legs and his almost touching.

You’ve heard so many stories about this Gojo guy, never caring to pay attention or learn who he was but couldn’t help but overhear all the bad stuff people would often say during class, in the library, in the hallways.

“Uh, I’ve heard a couple names being thrown around…?” You nervously say, unsure of how to tell him what you truly have heard. To name a few, Satoru Gojo has been described as a rich, egotistical, arrogant, reckless man whore whose family has given him everything on a silver platter.

He feigns surprise at your words and puts a hand on his chest, he looks at you with a mock-scandalized look. “You’re saying you have no idea how many nasty whispers and rumors there are about me? I’m basically the big bad wolf on campus.” He says in such a sarcastic manner. 

You give him a lighthearted laugh, “I try my best to not listen to the gossip that circles around at school but it’s hard to miss when everyone around you is whispering about the same guy over and over.” He chuckles at your response and crosses one leg over the other, he looks at you with an amused glint in his eyes, he's enjoying himself.

“I don’t even blame you; the rumors are impossible to miss. Believe me, I find it hilarious how absurd some of them can get.” He says with a grin. “It doesn’t bother you?” You curiously ask him, you can’t even fathom what it must be like being in his shoes. You’d probably never show your face in public ever again if you were him. 

“I’d be lying if I said it doesn't irritate me from time to time. It gets pretty annoying when everyone you talk to thinks they know everything about you. But you learn to ignore the majority of it.” He smiles slightly, “I’ve been surrounded by whispers and stares since I was a kid.”

Your heart can’t help but break for him, living a life surrounded in rumors and people talking down on you, cannot be easy but he seems to be doing very well. You reach out and put a hand on his knee and give it a small squeeze, “Despite all those people, you’re still here. You’re showing up and not ducking your head down at the nasty things people say about you. The universe knows if we were to switch places, I would move continents and change my name to never be seen again. You should be proud of yourself, Satoru.” You give him a small smile. 

Satoru's eyes soften and for a small moment he looks over at where you touched him. Something about your words and your gesture set off a warm feeling in his chest. He is quick to compose himself and throws you a smirk, to deflect the feeling that stirred within him. “Careful, I might start getting big headed if you keep complimenting me”

You throw your head back in laughter, “More than it already is?” You quickly respond. He chuckles and shakes his head in amusement. The natural conversation flowing between the both of you is a nice change from the people he interacts with others every day. 

“Well, I mean, we just met, you’re calling me your friend, you’re joining me on a night out and not to mention, you’re holding my knee.” You glanced down at your hand, forgetting you had left it there, quickly removing it and crossing your arms across your chest. A warm blush creeping up your cheeks.

“I was just being nice.” You say, playfully rolling your eyes at him. Satoru watches you for a few moments before he speaks, in a playful, mocking tone. “Aww, is somebody getting flustered? You look a bit red, sweetheart.”

You feel the car come to a complete stop, “You’ve arrived at your destination, Mr. Gojo.” Ijichi states. Thank the heavens above, this conversation was getting a little all too much. 

Satoru exited the car first and you couldn’t help but look at him and feel thankful. His presence is taking your mind off of her. Even though she was still there in the back of your mind… being in Satoru’s presence was comforting.

“Thank you for the ride, sir.” You thanked Satoru’s driver, Ijichi, who was sitting in the driver’s seat. You made your way out of the car, Satoru shutting the door behind you. 

You gaze over to Satoru who is looking down at you. At this angle, standing closer to him and looking up at him, he looks even taller. He put his hands in his pockets and gave you another smirk, “Shall we go, sweetheart?” You gave him a soft smile before sarcastically responding, “After you, “Mr. Gojo.” You say jokingly. 

He laughs in mock-annoyance at your sarcastic response, and he shakes his head, that familiar smirk still in place. “You’re insufferable. And here I am, trying to be a gentleman for you.” He walks ahead of you, following his lead, as he opens the door to the diner. 

“Why thank you, Mr. Gentleman.” You say, giving him a small wink. He lets out a bark of a laugh at your words, he shakes his head and steps inside after holding the door open for you. 

You both placed your orders, you opted for a simple side of French fries and a chocolate milkshake and Satoru a pizookie? You’ve been at the diner a hundred times and weren’t aware what that was or that they even sold them. 

“I can’t believe you’ve never had or heard of a pizookie.” Satoru stares at you in slight disbelief. “I know for a fact you are not acting as if pizookies are a vital part of life.” You say, giving him a deadpan look. “What is it anyways?” Curious as to what it is, it sounds like it wants to be a pizza and a cookie. 

“It is a big ass cookie with vanilla ice cream on top.” He says, you purse your lips in disappointment, “That’s it?” He clutches his chest as if someone had shot him letting out a big gasp, “That’s it?!” He repeats after you. “Pizookie means everything to me, don’t you dare talk down on her.” He half yells, causing some of the workers and some customers to look over at your table. 

You couldn’t hold in your laugh at his pathetic attempt of being mad. “Okay okay, I’m sorry for disrespecting the love of your life. Cross my heart it won’t happen again.” You joke, bowing your head down and putting a hand over your heart. 

Satoru squints his eyes at you with a mockingly unamused look on his face and he lets out a scoff before letting a smile break out on his face. He puts a hand on his chin and hums dramatically as if he’s contemplating if your apology was worthy enough “Hmm, that’s a good start. but I’m sorry to inform you that is not enough” 

Your mouth opens in shock, “What?! My apology was an award-winning apology. It would've had the prophets in awe.”

He crosses his arms, and he fakes disappointment at your words. He shakes his head in disapproval and scoffs at you. “Your ‘award winning apology’ was hardly up to my standards. I think you should apologize once more, and this time with more effort and sincerity” Satoru says with a sly smirk.

Just in time, the waiter brought out the food to your table and you both thanked them. Not breaking eye contact, you continue staring at each other, in some sort of staring contest. Without breaking eye contact he grabs the spoon and successfully puts a spoonful of pizookie in his mouth. He slowly chews the bite, and he looks at you with a smirk, clearly enjoying himself. He swallows the bite, “De-li-cious” he says, sounding out every syllable. 

You picked up a fry from your plate and threw it at him, the fry hitting his cheek. You both are holding back your laughter and Satoru manages to let out, “Excuse me? A fry was thrown at me?” Which was enough to let you both break out in a fit of giggles and laughter, warranting the looks of the people around you, once again, but you didn’t seem to care. 

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

“Thank you for the meal.” You say to Satoru as he holds the door open for you. He glances down at you and gives you an amused smile, “Glad you enjoyed it, sweetheart. Should’ve believed me when I said pizookies are life changing.” You couldn’t help but let out a scoff at his words, not wanting to say anything to prove he was indeed right.

He steps outside behind you and looks up at the sky momentarily before looking back at you. “Walk with me?” Satoru asks and you give him a simple nod. You follow him and walk alongside him, matching your pace, his footsteps in sync with yours. 

You look up at the night sky, your baby sister crossing your mind once again for the millionth time that night. You let out a small sigh, it was nice being distracted and forgetting about her painful death even if it was just for a fleeting moment. 

Satoru gives you a sidelong glance as you walk in silence for a few brief minutes, a comfortable silence in the air. You sense him looking at you like he wants to say something, but he hesitates, wanting to choose the right moment to speak. 

“Ask.” You softly say to him, his eyes widen slightly and his lips twitch as he looks at you and looking away, clearly surprised that you read him like a book. He gives a small smile before saying, “I was just curious.” He looks at you, as you both walk side to side. You look up at him, letting him know it’s okay to continue.  

He hesitates for a moment before the words leave his mouth, “I’ve been wondering… why did you agree to join me out? I mean, not to sound cocky, but I doubt it was only for my charming personality.” You barked out a laugh at his last comment. 

You pondered your answer for a split second before answering truthfully, “To be honest, I was having a shit night, and you were kind enough to ask me out to have food with you. And I just kind of went along with it, spur of the moment kind of thing.” You gave him a small shrug. 

Satoru lets out a small hum and gives you a small smile, a curious look enters his eye. “Why were you out there anyway?” You tense up for a moment hoping he didn’t notice, “I told you, I was having a shit night and I, uh, could ask you the same thing?” You ask him, trying to dodge his question, scared that once you say the actual reasoning that the water works would start all over again.

He shoots you a sympathetic look as you speak, he seems to notice your change in demeanor, but he doesn’t mention it. “You want the truth?” He stops walking and shoves his hands into his pockets. “My best friend, my one and only best friend…” He cleared his throat before continuing, “It’s the week of his death anniversary.” 

Your heart dropped at his response; eyes widened slightly at his words. The timing of his delivery shocked you to say the least. That was not an answer you were expecting in any means. You take a second to compose yourself, unsure of what to say since you’re dealing with the exact same thing, surprisingly. You let out a small sigh, your tone much softer than it's been the entire night. 

“I-I’m sorry for your loss, Satoru. I shouldn’t have asked, my apologies.” You say to him, not realizing tears started falling to your cheeks. He gazed over at you, his eyes softened at the sight of your tears. You whipped your body around, not wanting Satoru to see you.

There was confusion etched on his face, unsure of what was happening. You started speaking, “I’m sorry, it’s just the timing of the situation.” You looked up at the sky, the bright star you saw earlier blinking at you, again. Taking a deep breath, you continue, “It’s just, uh, today marks the 5-year anniversary since my baby sister’s death…” You choke out a sob.

He stays silent for a moment, taken aback by your words. He didn’t expect that answer, if it was even a possibility at all. He feels a pang of sympathy and sadness form in his chest at your response, knowing the pain is a feeling he knows all too well. 

You felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, turning you around slowly. You and Satoru were now facing each other but you didn’t have the energy to look up at him. That’s when you felt his arms wrap around your frame, a sign of relief escaping your lips. 

Satoru held the back of your head with his hand. He knows he should say something, anything, but he doesn’t know what to say that would help either of you. 

You cried in his arms and hugged him tighter, his embrace being the only thing holding you together. It was unexpected but, in this moment, it was everything… 

You gave him a squeeze before pulling away, still standing close to him. Words seemed to fail as you peered up at him through your wet eyelashes. There were tears in his eyes, threatening to fall on his pale cheeks. You both looked at each other, one look saying more than a thousand words. There was a mutual understanding there. He understood your pain and you understood his. 

Satoru breaks the silence, “Today fucking sucked, didn’t it?” You let out a soft chuckle causing a few more tears to spill, “One could definitely say that… but meeting you wasn’t so sucky.” He smiled softly at your words.

[patchiko]

Ur writing makes me emotional im literally writhing on the floor jason let me take care of u bbg 😭 can u write smth ab him letting his s/o take care of him after a rough patrol? Can be sfw or nsfw

HEHEHEHE THANK YOU ANON!! I GOTT YOUUU

im so proud of this it took long but im literally writing this at 3:49 AM bc of the idea that popped up in my half asleep brain

Taking care of ak!Jason Todd after patrol!! (SFW FLUFFY FIC)

Night after night, Jason Todd would come home to you. Sometimes bloodied and bruised, sometimes frustrated and annoyed, sometimes his feet were dragging and his whole body ached. Tonight he slipped through your apartment window, smooth jazz played so lightly it took him a second to register it. A light in the dining room was on. He could’ve just showered to let the running water tell you he was home, and be greeted with your presence when he came out. But, tonight his eyelids were heavy and his body felt empty. Like a lost ghost, he longed for something that gave him a peace to rest his lamenting spirit. Jason wandered to you, it was second nature at times, he found you sitting at the dinner table working on your laptop.

Your gaze flicked upwards, the red of his helmet catching your eyes. “Welcome back!” You said warmly. Almost in an instant his body felt full, heavy, like he was about to melt into a puddle right then and there.

“Hey.” The helmets voice scrambler hid Jason’s mellowed tone. Slightly frowning underneath it because of its harsh manner, he promptly took it off. After sliding the cold metal off his head, his eyes met yours. You were smiling tenderly at him. Jason drifted toward you, when he got close he felt like his whole body would’ve dropped to your feet and he could in a dormant rest for centuries. As long as you stayed there of course. Hardly noticed how close he stood over you until he felt himself moving down to kiss your cheek. Jason stopped himself, “Can I?” he whispered to you feebly. You nodded to him with that warm smile he longed for desperately. Jason pressed his cold lips to your cheekbone, the sensation of your skin soothed that longing feeling. He pressed another one firmly, helplessly trying to quarrels his yearning soul. Jason caught himself, skin flushed as he dragged himself away.

A sigh escaped his lips and he started turning away,” Would you like one too?” He fixated himself back on you, you were still looking at him lovingly, your finger pressed against your lips, waiting for his response.

Wordlessly he bowed his head back toward you, turning his head for you to kiss his unbranded cheek. Jason wasn’t ready for you to touch that side of him so directly. He didn’t want you to meet the oily black hate, the only other thing that touched his heart, his longing, his ache as comfortingly as you did. The discomfort seeped from him when he felt your plush lips meet his skin, it wasn’t quick, not too long either. In Jason’s mind it was perfection, it made that tar that stuck in his veins seem like a pathetic substitute. It made his breath heavy, all but burdened with a swollen heart. It made him feel untouchable, not in his brutal norm but in a heavenly stillness. It made him scared. That you could take care of him, not just when his body bled but when you filled something enigmatically empty inside him. Something that he could only fill with that hate that he clutched onto like a boy to his mother.

Jason lugged himself away from you. He wasn’t sure what would hurt him more and he wasn’t ready to find out. He sat across from you pressing his callous palms against his face.

“Bad night?”

“Mhm. Something like that.”

“Need anything?” He already got it.

“No.”

He would be lying if he were to say he wouldn’t wish to a star like a child, asking for your ease indefinitely.

i love him☹️

[httpsghostie]

Beneath the Surface (pt. 2)

Part one

Part two

Okay first of all the fact that the father's best friend!Simon went so well makes me worried. So we're all damaged? Anyways thank you sm!

Requests are open and appreciated, I need ideas hehehehe

Here's a part two that no one asked for

Summary: Simon follows you to the bathroom for a second round.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: smut, Simon 'Ghost' Riley x female!reader, implied age gap, piv, unprotected, choking, breeding kink, slight scent kink, reader is called by lots of names, no use of y/n

masterlist

NSFW under the cut

Your heart was racing, your legs trembling when you unlocked the door of your room. It had been probably half an hour since your parents got home and everything happened. They went to sleep, not wanting to bother you and the bad-temper they knew you had before they left. You went to the bathroom and started undressing yourself, looking at your reflection in the mirror and noticing the way your hips were marked. He'd dug his nails into your flesh when he was fucking you silly and your rotting brain didn't even feel it.

His hands on your body, his words, it didn't leave your mind. You spent countless nights dreaming about this. It was so dirty, you felt so stupid and dislocated to want this when your friends talked about their normal relationships with people their age, while you daydreamed about having sex with a man that appeared every once in a while, usually accompanied by a new battle scar. And, well, speaking of the devil, the doorknob turned and he got in, locking the door behind him. 

"-the fuck are you-" your words got cut off as his lips crashed again yours, his eager hands pressing you against the balcony and squeezing your ass.

"'M not done with you." He broke the kiss and kissed a trail down your neck to your chest, where he palmed one of your tits as the other one was on his mouth. His knee pressed against your core, those fucking tight jeans that accentuated his thighs were now getting a wet spot.

He was now towering over you as he sat you down on the sink, taking off all of his clothes. He spread your legs further apart and without any warning he just thrusted into you, giving you no time to adjust to his size.

"How does it feel, hm?" He asks. "'Y like being stuffed, baby?" One of his hands grabs a fistful of hair behind your neck. "Such a needy whore you are, walking around with my cum in you." He planted kisses down your jaw, neck and collarbone.

You clenched around him at his words, earning a small and almost animalistic groan from the back of his throat. He pulled you from the porcelain surface, letting you stand your ground before flipping you like a piece of paper. He bended you on the sink, pressing your back for you to arch for him. 

That sight. Oh, that sight. He tapped his cock on your butt a few times and brushed his tip around your folds, then he entered. This angle allowed him to go deeper, and he sighed as he grabbed your hips and started to fuck you slowly.

"God..damn it." He moaned. "So fucking tight." You kept your back arched, but slowly lifted your face from the porcelain, looking at his reflection. His back had fallen back and his eyes were closed. You weren't sure what that meant, was he enjoying it, trying to memorize how you felt? Or were you just a simple fuck to the man behind you?

Needless to say you didn't know what went through his head. But the thought of him seeing you as a hobby or a distraction made you steamed up. Oh, wow. The feeling was knotting your stomach, all the heat going to your head. You moved against him, trying to get more movement from his part. He looked at you in the mirror and gave you a smirk.

"So eager, eh?" He pulled you closer to his body.

"What's so good you can't look at me?" You ask, not knowing where you were getting into.

"Beg your pardon? " His smirk was gone and he was looking at you with lustful eyes. "Want me to look at this pretty face of yours while I ruin you, huh?" His right arm slid in front of your neck and he choked you with his muscles, your back was now glued to him. "Then take it."

You just signed your death sentence. The caring Simon you knew was probably buried deep down those giant muscles in the reflection. He fucked you mad, hand covering your mouth as his balls hit your bundle of nerves repetitively. He couldn't help himself, he needed to do this ever since you started to purposefully wear revealing clothes around him.

It started small, just a shirt with a little bit of cleavage showing. You didn't feel like it had affected him in any way, so you upgraded your game. Skirts. Skirts were his downfall. That man was covered in gasoline and you were the spark to set him on fire. The way your thighs moved, the way it complimented your body. He always said you looked beautiful in skirts and dresses, what he forgot to mention is that they'd look even better on the floor, all across the room.

He dreamt about the day this would finally happen, but he needed to be sneaky. He didn't want to lose such a strong friendship with your father just because he had an incessant desire for his daughter. It was wrong, he knew it, but he couldn't help himself when his hands were wrapped around his leaking cock in your bathroom after some silly hand appointments in the living room, usually followed up by him coming by the scent of your used pink, laced panties in the laundry basket.

"Uh-uh, open your eyes, princess." Demanded him, one hand on your throat and the other on your hip. "Want you to watch how I ruin this pussy." He gave a step forward and pressed your face against the mirror, immediately making it steam with your heatness. He held your hands back as he thrusted harder into your velvety walls. You felt your eyes closing again and he yanked your head back, choking you with his free hand. "Did I stutter?" You shake your head. 

He spat on your face and inserted his fingers on your mouth, never stopping fucking you. "Look at yourself." He slowly pushed his fingers in until it reached your throat and you gagged around them. He smiled as he made you drool down his hand.

He fucked you incessantly, the knot inside you growing with each movement. Your pussy was sore and he was abusing your cervix at this point. You swear you could pass out before making him cum, because your legs were giving up.

"Come here you little slut." He flipped you and picked you up, walking into the shower and turning it on. "Can't take my cock anymore?" Said as he pressed you against the wall and fucked you hard. You slightly shake your head, mouth agape. You didn't mean it, your body was moving on its own. "Too bad, princess. 'Gonna take what I give you." 

Moans escaped your mouth unintentionally as you felt your body get even weaker as you approached your high.

"Fuck, sir, 'm gonna cum." You cried out, throwing your head back. 

"What you called me?" He looked you in the eye and his lips were turning into a smirk. Obviously it came out involuntarily. You looked at him confused. "Say that again, baby, come on." He encouraged.

"Sir… I'm coming, I'm coming." You whined, his thumb was somehow stimulating your clit and you reached your orgasm, leaving his lower stomach and crotch covered in your juices. He didn't let you ride down your high, he was desperate to cum inside you again. "T-... much, Si." You cried lowly on his shoulder.

He didn't listen to you, but it didn't take much more until he was releasing his warm seeds inside of you, legs trembling, panting breath. 

He helped you to clean, well, he gave you a shower after you collapsed on his arms. He then carried you to your room and laid you down on your comfy bed, the one you needed since the day ended. 

The walk back to the guest bedroom was somehow exquisite. He fulfilled his dreams, and probably yours too, but he felt like he needed more. Your touch, sweet and delicate as he gently scrubbed you in the shower. The tender, soft kiss you left on his cheek when he carried you. It wasn't all just sex. He was desperate for affection and you were there to give it to him. All under the covers. Your dirty secret.