#okay lemme try and write a few more things!

[tvrningout-a]

ngl, i have avoided rereading/rewatching m.ugen train bc i cried so hard both when i read and watched it asdfg but you know what?? i'm ready to get hurt again <3

[kisses4reid]

scare | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,, (part 1)

synopsis - you’re in a relationship with some one else and have a pregnancy scare, both your own reaction and spencer’s makes you realise that you’re not happy.

genre - bau!reader x spencer, friends to lovers, multi-part, pregnancy scare, reader has sort of a douche bf, one sided love (at first), angst and fluff

warnings - pregnancy talk, mentions of sex, unhealthy relationships, stress, sickness

w/c - 1.4k?? take a guess cause that’s mine.

a/n - i’ve got 9 weeks free. yeah, i have a job. and yeah, i have about 6 other hobbies i enjoy. but am i gonna make promises i can’t keep about writing more?? yeah. i am. here, enjoy. (pls lemme know abt mistakes it’s rlly late at night rn.)

The plane whirrs, small chatter from Morgan and who you assumed to be Penelope over the phone humming along with the music you try to distract yourself with. It isn’t working.

Because every song has its own special and quirky musical instrument that happens to sound like a message notification. And you keep getting your hopes up.

Your left leg started to bounce, your fingernails found their way to your anxious teeth. And Spencer noticed.

He noticed about halfway through the case, when you stopped talking as much, started drinking an influx of water, started discreetly taking pain medication. At first, he thought it was a simple stomach bug, and he knew your stomach didn’t agree with a lot of travel. But then you started getting nervous.

Spencer glanced at you a few times before moving, sitting next to you (attempting to be discreet). He can’t be discreet though, because every time he’s around you, his body does this weird thing where it can’t decide whether it should be instantly calm or instantly more nervous. Your presence stopped his fidgeting hands, his tired thoughts. But god, when he looked at you, it’s like his heart wants to see you for itself.

And right now his heart hurt, why were you scared?

You barely noticed Spencer sit down, usually you would, but your phone was annoyingly blank, silent. You turned it off and on three times, and re-entered the plane’s wifi password five times.

And now your stomach was grumbling, and not in the way that those nice small sandwiches can help out with.

“Are you okay?”

You jumped, taking your earphones out and staring at Spencer surprised. You laughed nervously, quietly, “Spencer! Sorry. Yeah, I’m fine.”

His warm eyes searched yours and for a second you could ignore the tight feeling in your chest. It made you think back around 8 months ago, when Penelope, your childhood best friend and now co-worker, created a pros and cons list for both Lloyd, and… Spencer.

It was unprofessional and inappropriate, especially when you decided to listen because you had nothing better to do. And especially when she started making some good points.

He squinted his eyes, and you sighed.

“Sorry, I’m just a bit antsy. Feeling a bit… off.”

You felt sick, and stressed, and like your thoughts were going to be the cause of your death. Because you’ve never been sick like this. And to your overworked brain, it only meant one thing.

Spencer’s a great profiler. And although the team collectively agreed to not profile each other, it becomes hard for Spencer when the girl he’s in love with is so obviously in distress. Even worse when he can’t be the hero.

“I can leave you to sleep if you want.” He says, getting up to leave.

“Oh, no. That’s okay. Honestly, I think sleeping would just make it worse.”

Ah, right. Travel sickness, Spencer thought. He gaps his mouth slightly and nods. He relaxes into the couch and looks over to you, heart picking up slightly as pieces of hair fell from your loose ponytail.

You looked over to the table he was previously sat at, the book you gifted him last Christmas open and nearly finished. You smiled to yourself, but it was bittersweet.

“You’re actually reading it?” You asked, looking back at him with slight surprise.

“Of course. I’ve read it 6 times already, it’s a great pallet cleanser- Just like you said in that Christmas card!” He smiled childishly, like he was recalling the first snow.

“I know right! It’s so simple but interesting, I mean I’ve only read it three times but to me I always found it to clear my head.”

Spencer angled himself towards you, “Did you know that the author actually interviewed his daughter’s teachers to see what ages teachers were more invested in compared to class sizes? He said in an interview that depending on a students intelligence, there’s an underlying emotional connection made between student and teacher,” he took a breath, “It plays into the intelligence to ego ratio that so many people claim isn’t true. Which I’m not trying to say you have a big ego, or that I do-“

You waved you hands, “Woah, woah. Why would I think you’re talking about me?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Well, you’re very intelligent.”

“Oh!… Thanks for thinking I’m intelligent, or smart.” You shrugged, “But I think you insulted yourself. You don’t have a 187 IQ for nothing do you?”

“You remembered my IQ?” He laughed nervously. His smile warms your chest like a candle. Like that candle he got you randomly in April, after you mentioned your favourite one being used up by your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend. Ugh.

You smile falters for only a second, “Of course. You only mention it to every person that second guesses you.”

He nods and smiles, “Must be my ego.”

You laugh, subconsciously bumping your shoulder with his. But- Jesus. Your stomach is queasy.

“Hey, uh, do you want some travel sickness pills?” He reached over for his satchel but you grab his forearm and smile as convincingly as you can.

“No, no. We’re landing soon, but thank you.”

You’re overreacting.

That’s what he said. When you texted your boyfriend of a year and a half that you thought you were pregnant he said, You’re overreacting. Two words, two hours after your first text, on his day off.

Maybe you are. You started feeling sick on a slightly more gory case, it’s lasted ever since the case started, you get travel sick as well.

The headaches are from the computer screen and stress. The stress is from fatigue. The fatigue is because of the lack of sleep. The lack of sleep is because of the headaches.

Why do you always do this? Always thinking that there’s something wrong with you. Always being the biggest person in your own life, selfish.

But… what if?

There’s a sudden squeak from behind you, and you instantly snapped out of it. You took a deep breath and looked at your surroundings. You were at your desk, standing, the strap of your bag clutched in your hands - god, your knuckles were white. Your eyes darted in surprise and confusion, and you jumped once again when Spencer spoke into the silence.

“You okay?”

“Um…”

You didn’t look back at him, only looking down at your shoes and taking a deep breath. You plastered on a smile despite the bile collecting in your throat.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve gonna go, the bus leaves at um…”

You took out your phone. He didn’t even respond to your text asking him to pick you up.

“I’ll drive you home. But uh, I gotta pick up some groceries. I hope you don’t mind.”

He curved to your desk and gently took your bag from your hands, glancing at the way you traced your knuckles and how the leather strap now had slight wrinkles in it. He smiled, warmly. And he started walking like you rejecting the idea wasn’t an option.

Which is wasn’t, because he knew you too well.

“Well, a cucumber actually has 3% more water than watermelon. So if you really want a refreshing snack, cucumber is your man.”

You smiled and raised your eyebrows in interest. He’s had many vegetables and fruits in the basket, not a lot of protein. Explained a lot.

My man, you thought with a smile.

My man, you shivered.

“I don’t like cucumbers.” You said like it was distraction, and he nodded, picking up some kewpie mayo as he you around to the next aisle. He glanced at you,

“I know. You say it’s tasteless. I like it.” He shrugged.

“I know.” You smiled, and he smiles back.

God, you wish you could bask in it, the warmth. But your chest was still tingly, and your heart hadn’t stopped aching ever since you got excited about an email notification.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay? I noticed you’ve been tense for like… a week.” He grabbed some pasta sauce and put his hand on your shoulder to turn you around - you obviously looked too far into your own head.

“Yeah, just feeling-“

“Y/n.” He turned to you, stopping your venture into the dairy aisle. His eyes were hard, worried. The fluorescent lights swayed slightly. A worker walked by the end of the aisle with a trolley full of food.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t,” he lifted one arm, wanting to rest his hand on your upper arm, to help you, “Don’t say sorry. Just tell me what’s going on.”

“I have been feeling sick. That’s true. And I’ve been stressed and, thinking a lot. A lot.”

It felt weird to nearly tell Spencer about your relationship problems. It was like complaining to a doctor about healing crystals. It was like a slap in the face. Maybe that’s why you never did tell him about it, because it was facing your fears.

It was the pros and cons list made by Penelope.

But I’m overreacting.

“It’s nothing.”

Spencer sighed. You had that habit, of nearly opening up, and then shutting the door just as he was about to walk in.

You heard his sigh.

“Okay. I gave Lloyd my car because he has the day off, and he likes going to his friends houses on his days off. And, I told him something that should probably freak him out. But he doesn’t really care. I don’t think he really cares, about anything. At least about me.”

You started walking, because holy shit you’ve never said that out loud before, and Spencer followed you,

“Y/n, if you want to tell me something-“

“I think I’m pregnant.” You stopped, and started picking at your fingers, acting as if it was admitting to not knowing your left and rights, or that you don’t really like coconut.

His eyes widen, and his heart drops. It was like his worst nightmare coming true- jesus, how could he even think about himself right now? The girl he loved felt trapped with a man she thought might be the father of her baby.

Spencer gulped, “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

You looked at each other, scared, you more than him. And then you cringed,

“God, I’m sorry Spencer. I shouldn’t have said anything-“

“No- Y/n, it’s fine. I’m glad you told me-“

“I haven’t even, like, taken a test yet-“

“Wait so-”

You spun on your heel and looked at him exasperated.

“So… let’s go get some tests.” He said (he hopes) calmly. He was really trying, to pretend to be calm and collected. That’s what you needed, a clear head to replace yours.

He paid for everything, even the 5 pregnancy tests and the over sized lollipop you put in the basket to ease your nerves later on.

The moon was high, you were about three hours late to get home now, and your head was attacking itself with rambles and aches and honestly, you were sick of it.

You shivered, huddling in your jacket and drawing only slightly closer to Spencer. His silence was like a hook, drawing you in closer and higher and taking every word you had been thinking that day to the tip of your tongue.

You looked up to him. His hair fell into his eyes, the breeze reddening his cheeks slightly.

It’s Spencer. You’ve known him for nearly 6 years, but it feels like you’ve known each other for ever. You know everything about him, and he knows everything about you. Well, not everything. He doesn’t know how you feel in your own apartment, how every anniversary had been forgotten even when it was the ‘1 year’ mark, how you felt like you were raising an over grown child who could drink.

He knows you’re strong, but admitting all that? I’d look weak.

You have looked weak in front of Spencer. He stayed overnight in your hospital room, he held you when you watched a little girl die, he wiped your tears when you watched a sad short film during your break.

You couldn’t hide anything from him.

“I don’t think I’m pregnant- Well, I mean I might be, but there’s a very low chance,” You started, Spencer’s jaw clenched for a millisecond, “I’ve just been feeling sick and… it could be because of stress from work, or just general stress- like, I don’t know.”

Spencer moved the grocery bag to his other hand.

“Kids are great, don’t get me wrong. Some people don’t get the chance to have kids. I mean…” You gulped, and Spencer finally looked down at you. But now, all you could do was stare at the car park’s concrete floor. Speaking out loud was like clearing your brain, the fog was lifting. “Lloyd doesn’t want kids. I do, at least in the future, not right now. I just hope it’s not with-“ You cut yourself off, and slow down a bit. Spencer matches your pace.

I just hope it’s not with him.

He gulps, and clears his throat, looking down at you with understanding eyes, “With everything that’s going on.”

“Yeah… yeah. You know, my job, my…” It’s no use lying to Spencer. He knows. He’s known, for a long time.

Your chest was tight, and you made eye contact with the pregnancy tests lying on top of Spencer’s groceries. The thought of going home, rushing to the bathroom, avoiding your boyfriend who was already waiting angry, made your throat close up. Because only now, when you were three hours late from work and ignoring his one attempt at a phone call, Lloyd texted, ‘I think you need to calm down.’ It was a bare minimum, and finally Spencer could see you realizing it.

No, ‘Wre you okay?’, ‘What’s making you think this?’ ‘Where are you?’

No. He was making you out to be the crazy one, the one to be over thinking, over bearing, too much.

You were confused. To put it blankly. And scared. And questioning your life decisions. And honestly you just wanted to curl up in a ball and to have Spencer make you bad cucumber salad at his warm apartment.

You looked up to Spencer but he was already looking down at you, reaching for his keys and nodding, “You can come to mine, it’ll be okay.”

taglist (open) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover @c-losur3 @littlelearningbrat @khxna @laurakirsten0502 @cultish-corner

[xosamioo]

can you eo a fic where riki has a secret gf and the members find out, like they see a spicy picture of the two on his phone or something

freaky ass couple gets caught by Jake 🤓 wc: 500

… chaotic mild suggestive content and some swearing

Riki had been dating his secret girlfriend for a few months now, and he was determined to keep their relationship under wraps from the other Enhypen members. He knew they would tease him relentlessly if they found out, but he couldn't resist the thrill of sneaking around and keeping a secret. One night, while all the members were chilling in the living room together, Riki was lying on the couch, lazily scrolling through his phone.

He had an album of pictures of you and him, some innocent and some a bit more risqué, hidden in a folder on his phone. He was so engrossed in one of the recent pictures you sent him that he didn't notice Jake standing behind him until it was too late.

"What's that you got there, Riki?" Jake asked slyly, a grin spreading across his face as he leaned in closer.

Riki tensed up, quickly trying to hide the incriminating evidence, but it was too late. Jake had already seen a glimpse of the picture before Riki could close the app.

"It's nothing," he stammered, trying to act nonchalant. "Just, uh, some memes and stuff."

Jake raised an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. "Sure, sure," he said, leaning back against the couch with a smirk. "That's why your face is turning beet red right?"

Riki felt a flush creeping up his ears

"Look, I just. I have a girlfriend, okay? But I haven't told you guys yet, and I'd appreciate it if you could keep it to yourself."

Jake whistled, pretending to be shocked.

"Wow, our little Riki has a girlfriend! Who would have guessed?" He playfully slapped Riki on the back. "Just you know don't be looking at that kind of stuff in the open".

Riki blushed even harder, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he muttered.

"I'll be more careful next time. Just, please, don't tell the others yet. I'm not ready for all the teasing and interrogation."

Jake chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't worry, I won't say anything yet," he promised, placing his hand on his heart. "But you better be prepared, because they're gonna be relentless when they find out. Especially Sunghoon and Jay."

Riki groaned, running a hand through his hair.

"Ugh, I know. They're gonna grill me for every little detail. But I can handle it. She's worth it."

Riki glanced down at his phone again, smiling softly at his home screen picture of you. Despite the initial embarrassment, he was so excited to have someone to talk about you with.

Jake raised his eyebrows and shook his head chuckling. "damn didn't think I would ever see your nonchalant ass be so whipped, man. But I get it. Love makes us do crazy things." He clapped Riki on the shoulder.

Riki playfully pushed him away, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, shut up. You better not tell anyone about this, or I'll beat your ass-" he threatened jokingly and he received a message

Riki's phone buzzed with a message from you, prompting him to quickly open it and type out a response before Jake could peek over his shoulder

"lemme?...wrap a..fruit roll up around it- WHAT? Jake screamed as he read the message you sent riki

Authors note: had fun writing this lol enjoy!! 😭 requests open!!

© xosamioo 2024 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[mountainficss]

thoughts on whiny, subby jeonghan dry humping you in public with a flushed face because he couldn't help himself?🥴🥴

!! mentions of: sub!jeonghan, sexual acts in public, dry humping, edging

oh poor jeonghan would be so desperate! i really can see him doing this. i can envision multiple scenarios.

i imagine him pressing himself against you during a cramped ride on the subway, when the overcrowded car gives him no choice but to be pushed against you. your close proximity would immediately get him hard, and the numerous bodies crammed close to him would not make it any easier for his rapidly heating face. his hands would fall down to your hips, gripping them tightly as he nestles him chin on your shoulder. you’d notice his throbbing erection against you right away, and would tease him lightly instead. “feeling okay?” you’d ask him gently, a small smile on your face as you settle your hands on top of his (that are still gripping your hips like his life depends on it). “mhm,” he’d choke out quietly, grinding his hips once against you. he needed to feel something, anything as long as it came from you. “just want you.” he’d whisper as quietly as he could manage, his lips dragging over the shell of your ear. the ride was anything but quiet, but the last thing jeonghan wanted was to attract the attention of other unassuming passengers. “well you’ll have to wait,” you’d reply nonchalantly, receiving a whine from jeonghan. “we have lots of plans today.” he’d just let out another defeated whine, burying his face in your hair and inhaling your intoxicating scent.

he might also latch onto you in an empty aisle while shopping, his boner poking your ass for the second time today. he’d grind against you once, letting out a sultry moan next to your ear. “p-please…lemme f-fuck you…” he’d slur, hands repeatedly traveling from your hips to your stomach. “i’ll love you s-so good if you let me…” you’d say nothing, would just smile silently to yourself and continue browsing the shelves. “we’re in public, hannie,” you’d dismiss gently, reaching an arm behind you to run your fingers through his hair. “be good.” he’d let out a choked, desperate sound as he thrusts his hips against you once, twice before he detaches himself from you halfheartedly.

he would be extremely needy for the rest of the day after being edged twice in a row. poor baby would even beg you while you’re grabbing lunch, the tablecloth concealing how he humps your hand with fervor. you’d keep your hand pressed against his clothed erection, solely adding a little pressure and making him do the rest of the work. “there’s a bathroom o-over there…can we, please?” jeonghan would hiss, trying his best not to make his pleasure obvious. you’d just scoff meanly, admiring his flushed face and adorable pout. “you wanted this, hannie. this is the only way i’ll let you cum,” you’d smirk, your decision unwavering. jeonghan would give in after that, using your hand to try to reach his climax. he’d grab your hand with both of his, practically fucking it through the fabric of his pants. the sensation of the fabric and the pressure from your hand would tip him over the edge, and he’d throw a hand over his mouth to keep his lewd sounds muffled. ropes of warm cum would shoot into his boxers, soiling the fabric and leaving him feeling sticky and satisfied. you’d give his softening cock a few more teasing strokes, chuckling when his body twitches from the overstimulation. “such a good boy, hannie,” you’d coo, leaning over the table to press a peck onto his lips. he’d kiss back weakly, breathing heavily from his previous orgasm.

jeonghan would be so well behaved for the remainder of your outing, having felt satisfied from your pleasure. as a reward you’d fuck him after returning home, using his previous load to aid the slide onto his cock and riding him until he’s a moaning mess <3

taglist: @jeonghanpill , @bangantokchy , @caratboy , @bewoyewo , @luvseungcheol , @wonvsmile , @haolovre , @aaniag , @writingbarnes , @dokyeomkyeom , @allieyaaa

[raewritesfiction]

Overqualified [Bill Skarsgard]

A/N: based on an anon ask to use the line “you’re fucking overqualified”. I started writing and it wrote itself. Enjoy!

Plot: PWP.

Pairing: Bill Skarsgard X Female!Reader

Warnings: Smut. Sloppy head. Pussy eating. Fingering. Unprotected P in V (use a condom!!)

[[ Lemme know if you wanna be added or removed from tags; no questions asked ♥️ likes are amazing however I really appreciate Reblogs to help spread my writing further! Thank you 🌈😘]]

Tag List: @thegreatlarryfisherman @iraniq @snewsome756 @vikkikrash @amelia-in-w0nderland @pandaliciouz @crispyimagines17 @marie-is-blogging @bonniebird @nutinanutshell @louise-buchan @differentcatcat @madsadgenius @sycochick @1-800-imagines @venusbabysblog

—

You moan loudly as Bill holds your pussy against his mouth; the man is eating as if it’s his last meal. The sheets are pulled off from every corner of the bed due to your writhing and pulling while the man between your legs makes you cum over and over until you’re sure you’ve forgotten what day of the week it is.

He pulls away after your fifth, or is it sixth, orgasm. Your head is swimming and that old cliche about seeing stars is making more sense to you now.

Bill isn’t done with you yet and his fingers slide into you and curl; you gasp and arch off the bed when he starts moving them quickly inside you. The pads of his fingertips press and rub against that sensitive spot inside you making you squirm. You can hear your arousal; the sounds are fit for a porn movie. Even laid on your back your thighs are soaked in your juices. You try to get away but grind your hips down for more and just as that intense moment of bliss is ready to explode inside of you… Bill withdraws his fingers.

You let out a long whine and lay panting; Bill is moving but your eyes won’t open right now so you have no clue what he’s doing. You feel your legs being spread wider and his hands gliding up your thighs to your hips, you twitch a little as something pushes against your very sensitive opening then let out a loud moan as his cock easily slips into you fully.

Bill groans roughly and positions himself for a deep pace; you’re barely breathing properly again before his hips are moving into you. He grunts and moans, fingers digging into your soft flesh leaving bruises and the mix of that slight pain mixed with how full you feel, his cock reaching every part of you and stretching you with a warm ache is a whole new pleasure.

The pillow under your head is all but rags and loose feathers from the way you pull at it. Your throat is raw and rough from your moans and screams of Bill’s name but somehow you manage to call out “Don’t stop!!”

Growling low, Bill pulls you onto his thrusting hips and pants harshly; he watches you through half closed eyes, his gaze roaming over every part of your sweat covered form beneath him. He doesn’t care about the torn pillows and ruined bed sheets - he’s happy to buy new ones as many times as he needs to.

You gasp and whine again “Fuck…. Fuck oh god!” It’s all you can manage as the climax you’d been chasing since he’d removed his fingers, crashes over you. Your hips lift and tremble, your legs turn to jell-o and you definitely can’t remember what day of the week it is or if it’s morning or night. Your scream is silent and your body tenses under Bill before going limp.

Laying on the bed panting you swallow thickly and realise there was no final moans of pleasure from Bill, instead he’s leaning down over you kissing your skin and stroking over the bruises on your hips. He’s asking if you’re okay, whispering sweet things to you and after what he had done to you there was no way you were leaving him unsatisfied.

It takes a few moments but you use what strength you have left to flip your positions and lift off of his solid cock. You smirk at him and shuffle down the bed; grazing your teeth over his defined abs and hips.

“Baby… you don’t have to..” he smiles softly but watches you intently.

“Oh I do..” you nod and lick along his cock, tasting yourself for the first time. You moan and relax your throat before taking as much of his length into your mouth as you were able. The man was endowed and he quickly fills your mouth and hits your throat. You groan around him and let your saliva mix with your juices on his cock, sucking as you slowly pull away and bob your head.

On each pull back you take a little more of his impressive size and as you get more comfortable your nose hits the thatch of hair at the base of his cock. Bill groans loudly and runs a hand into your messy hair, he grips lightly but doesn’t add any pressure - he wants to let you do what you want.

You groan around him and bob your head quickly; keeping your teeth covered and your tongue out. Looking up under your lashes you see his chest heaving with every one of your movements and he moans louder.

“Fuck..!!” He pants quickly and grips the edge of the bed until his knuckles are white.

You watch his stomach muscles and feel his cock twitch a moment before he calls out; you swallow around him and instead of stopping and pulling away, you continue. A new resolve fills you and you keep sucking along his cock. Bill gasps and sputters on the bed and you hold his hips down with an arm across his lower stomach, your free hand moves to his balls and massage him firmly.

“God damnit!! Fuck!!”

You hum and moan, his cock is still twitching against your tongue and his balls seem to be doing the same thing. Bill can’t keep himself still and claws at the blankets and sheets that are now a complete mess around you both.

“Babe!!” He yells and pulls at the bed.

Holding him down a little harder you work his cock, you know you’re drooling and the sounds coming from your mouth around him are a symphony of disgraceful lust.

“You’re fucking overqualified!!” He calls out and strains against the sheets as he practically roars with his climax. You once again dutifully swallow around him and tease with a few more light sucks in pulses around the head of his cock, making Bill let out a strangled whine before you pull away and watch him lay panting on the bed.

You smirk at the sight of him laying spent from your ministrations and wipe at your mouth, crawling up to lay beside him.

Bill opens his eyes lazily and looks at you through half-lidded eyes, he opens his mouth to say something but shakes his head and chuckles instead.

You smile and kiss his cheek, laying your head down on his chest, it takes little time before you hear his deep steady breathing of sleep and less time for you to join him.

-fin-

[pretty-circa006]

Mystery Man

Sugar Daddy! Coach! Negan x Cam girl! F! Reader

summary you finally find out who your mystery man is tags online relationship, meeting up with a stranger you met online, making out, almost sex, dirty talk, male masturbation, age gap

wc 3.7k words

part 1

note here's part 2! also thank you so much to all the people that follow me. it makes me really happy to know that that many people like reading what i write! and extra thank yous to the people that leave comments and repost. comments make me so happy, like kicking my feet and giggling happy!

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ 

Ever since her video call a few weeks ago with the man online, they’ve been messaging each other quite frequently. It’s mostly flirtation and nudes, but it has quickly become her favorite part of the day. He even gave her his number so they can communicate outside of the camgirl website, but despite all this, they still haven’t seen each other’s faces. 

“Who’re you texting?” her friend asks as she tries to get a peek of her phone. 

“Nobody,” she snaps, turning her phone away from the other girl’s view. 

“C’mooon, lemme see!” she pushes trying to grab her phone. 

“Britney, stop it!” she urges and she hold her phone away from her nosey friend. Britney glares at her disappointedly, but stops trying to grab her phone. 

“Sorry, it’s just that I wanna keep this relationship kinda private until I know where it’s going, y’know?” she tells her friend half truthfully. 

“Yeah, whatever. I’m gonna go out before Coach Negan starts yelling at us again.” Britney leaves and she can finally resume her texting without any prying eyes. She reopens her messages and sees a picture from the man. He’s shirtless, revealing to her the tattoos on his chest, and palming his erection through his boxers, but of course his face isn’t in it. The text that followed reads Just watched some of your videos. She smiles to herself before typing back maybe one day you’ll get the real thing ;). Before she can get carried away, she shuts off her phone and puts it in her bag before joining the rest of the team out on the field. 

Coach Negan shouts her last name angrily and beckons her over with his hand. She rolls her eyes, feeling irate, and trudges over to him. He stands impatiently with his arms folded over his chest, his hazel eyes glaring down at her. 

“What?” she snaps, coming off a bit ruder than she intended. 

His glare hardens, but he doesn’t say anything about her attitude. “I just thought I’d let you know that this is the third time this week that you’ve been late to practice,” he states the obvious. 

“Okay? I know. Sorry, but things came up. What’s your problem?” she half truths. The things that kept coming up were more messages from her mystery man and she tended to lose track of time when it came to him. 

“It’s actually gonna become your fuckin’ problem because if you keep showing up late, you’re gonna put your track scholarship in jeopardy.” 

“Why is that any of your business‽” she asks defensively. 

“Despite you being my worst student, you are the best on this team, so it does benefit me to keep your rude ass around.” 

She glares up at him, matching the glare he’s already sending her. Shame washes over her, not only from slacking but from having Coach Negan of  all people call her out on it. Her scholarship isn’t something she can afford to lose, literally. Even though it only covers half of her tuition, it still helps a lot. 

“Well if keeping me around benefits you, maybe you should stop being such a dick to me.” 

He laughs sarcastically, exposing the dimples on his face along with his perfect teeth, before his face returns to a deadpan. 

“Or you can just get your shit together. Now go warm up with the others before you piss me off any further.” 

“Ugh!” she screams before leaving to join the others. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ 

As soon as she gets to her apartment, she tosses her bag aside and flops down onto her couch. She pulls out her phone and checks her messages with the mystery man to see if she has any new ones. When she sees that she doesn’t, she opens the camgirl website to see if maybe he said anything there. Disappointment swells in her chest when she sees that there’s none there, either. She almost feels dumb for being so hung up on this stranger. The stranger she’s never met in real life and doesn’t know what he looks like. But talking to him makes her feel good, like someone actually cares about her. Even if their conversations were purely flirtatious and sexual, she can’t help but feel something for him. So she sends him a message. 

@ virginesque hey 

@ BigBadWolf Miss me already?

@ virginesque yes actually how was ur day?

@ BigBadWolf It was alright. How about yours baby? 

@ virginesque kinda shitty tbh. school sucks but talking to u makes my day better :)

@ BigBadWolf You must really want another tip, huh lol 

@ BigBadWolf sent $100.00

@ virginesque no, i rlly just wanted to talk to u :( 

@ BigBadWolf Well aren’t you just the cutest. What do you wanna talk about baby?

@ virginesque idk i kinda been wanting to get to know u better. u seem interesting 

@ BigBadWolf Well what do you want to know?

@ virginesque what do you look like???

@ BigBadWolf I don’t even know what you look like haha

@ virginesque fair. how old are u??

@ BigBadWolf 45, you?

@ virginesque 20 but i’ll be 21 soon 

Their conversation strayed away from the usual exchanging of risqué photos and flirtatious banter and instead they got to know each other by taking turns asking questions about one another. It’s almost two in the morning on a week day and their conversation is still going. 

@ BigBadWolf Do you accept gifts? I want to send you a gift

@ virginesque ooooh what is it???

@ BigBadWolf You’ll have to be patient and wait until you get it

@ virginesque fine :( u can send them to my PO box

@ BigBadWolf When you get it, I wanna see it in your next stream 

@ virginesque oh? no private video just for ur eyes?

@ BigBadWolf You can send me a few pictures ;)

@ virginesque cant wait :D

@ BigBadWolf Goodnight babygirl, it was nice chatting with you 

@ virginesque night! ♡♡

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ 

Almost every day since the mystery man said he’s gonna send her a gift, she’s been checking her P.O. box on the way home from school. She’s gotten mail from her subscribers before, but it was usually weird stuff like disgusting fantasies about her, cumsocks, and other depraved things. But she knows her mystery man is nothing like those weirdos, which is why when there’s finally something in her P.O. box, she’s excited. 

As soon as she gets to her apartment she tears open the box and inside is a package from an expensive lingerie company. She tears open the package and inside is a quarter cup bra in a sheer white color with little flowers embroidered on it and a matching g-string. She hurries to the bathroom and changes into it. The bra doesn’t cover anything and even if it did, you could see right through it. What surprises her most is how perfectly each garment fits. She puts on some natural looking makeup before standing before the full length mirror in her bedroom. With her phone, she snaps a few pictures, each one a different pose. 

@ virginesque sent 6 attachments 

@ virginesque u like?

@ BigBadWolf Wow, it fits you perfectly. You look so fuckin sexy

@ virginesque thanks, i love it ♡

@ virginesque im gonna go start my stream now, maybe we can call after ??

@ BigBadWolf Can’t wait :) 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ 

“You looked so sexy on that stream, doll,” her mystery man compliments. This video call is a lot like their first one. Neither one of them showing their faces with only their bodies in the camera’s frame. 

“Don’t I always?” 

“Of course you fuckin’ do. Every picture you send me tightens my pants.” 

She giggles, smiling like a fool, but luckily he can’t see that. 

“I wish I could be there to help you out. I’d let you fill any hole you wanted.” 

He frees his cock from his sweatpants and from what she can see he doesn’t have any underwear on. 

“What else would you let me do?” he asks, his hardened dick in his large hand. 

“Hmmm, I’d be wearing a cute little dress with nothing underneath…”

“I’d never be able to keep my hands off you.” His hand begins pumping his achingly hard cock. 

“And I wouldn’t want you to. I’d let you take me whenever and wherever you want. Over my kitchen counter, the backseat of a car, the back of a movie theater, anywhere.” 

He lets out a grunt as he urges himself to his peak. “I’d love to fuck you on my motorcycle.” 

“You have a motorcycle? You just got even hotter.” 

“Sure do. I’d be happy to take you for a ride sometime.” He curses as he increases the speed of his hand, successfully making himself cum. 

“I…I know it’s all just dirty talk and fantasies, but would you really wanna take me for a ride?” she shyly asks. 

He pauses for a second, but the anxiety she feels during that pause makes it feel like an eternity. 

“I…I mean, yeah of course, baby, I’d love to,” he stammers. 

“M-maybe if we do…we can make all these fantasies reality,” she seductively suggests. 

“You are getting me hard all over again just thinking about it. I know you live in Virginia since that’s where your P.O. box is and lucky for you, I do, too.”

“I’ll text you my favorite restaurant and we can meet there!”

“How’s this weekend sound?”

“I’ll be there in my little dress with nothing underneath.” 

“And I’ll be there ready to take it off.”

“Five o’clock?” 

They agree on the time before wishing each other a good night and ending the call. 

Saturday felt like it took forever to get here, but when it finally did she started to feel nervous. She stands in front of her closet and looks at the few dresses she has. Deciding on a lavender colored mini sundress, she upholds her promise to her mystery man and wears nothing underneath. She even paints her nails and does her hair and makeup nicely. The reality of the situation dawns on her. She’s really about to meet up with a random man she met online, but for some reason, she trusts him. He’s nothing like the weirdo fans that have sent her weird shit or left creepy, almost threatening comments on her posts and streams. He’s charming, generous, and has a huge dick. What more could she ask for? 

It’s a quarter til five once she gets to the restaurant since she likes to be early. She grabs a table by the window and sends him a message telling him that she’s here and sitting by a window. Someone calling her name causes her to flinch and look up from her phone. 

“Coach Negan? What’re you doing here?” she asks rudely. 

“It’s a goddamn restaurant. I’m obviously here to eat.” 

She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Okay, whatever, bye.” she shoos him away with her hand and pulls out her phone to text the mystery man and ask where he is. He texts back that he’s here and asks where she is. She replies by telling him what she’s wearing. Coach Negan comes back over to her table, but this time he looks shocked and pale. He sits at the table, across from her and looks her in the eyes. 

“You…you’re not virginesque…are you?” he asks dryly. 

As she looks into Negan’s hazel eyes, it feels like her entire world came crashing down around her. Her stomach turns into knots and she’s not hungry anymore. 

“Y-you’re big bad wolf!?” she says shakily. Tears prick at her eyes due to the realization that the mystery man she’s been crushing on is her mean track and field coach. 

He sighs and runs a hand over his face. “Holy fuckin’ shit.” He holds his head in his hands and refuses to look at her. She can’t look at him, nor can she hold back her tears. At the sound of her sniffling, Negan looks up at her. 

“I can’t believe my coach has seen me naked,” she sobs. 

“This isn’t easy for me either. My student has seen my penis!” 

“Why didn’t you tell me it was you!” she asks incredulously. 

“I didn’t know you were you!” he argues. 

“Oh my god, I’ve masturbated in front of you…to you! I…I’ve sent you nudes a-and videos,” she cries into her hands. 

“I’ve sent you dick pics and thousands of fucking dollars!” he bemoans. 

Through their bickering, neither of them notice the waiter approach. “Hi, my name is Tyler and I’ll be your server for tonight,” he places menus, napkins and silverware on their table, “Can I get y’all started with anything to drink?” 

“Not now, Tyler!” she shouts between sobs. He looks at her, offended, before walking off. 

The atmosphere is incredibly and awkwardly tense. Now, Negan has not only seen her naked, but he’s also seen her cry. That man she met on her live stream was nothing like Coach Negan and to see that they’re the same person almost makes her nauseous. Coach Negan is a mean, foul mouthed dick who makes her contemplate dropping out of track and field every time she goes to practice. Her mystery man is caring, charismatic, a gentleman even. 

“Look,” he says, grabbing her attention, “I know this is weird as shit for you because it’s weird for me, too. But the attraction we felt to each other was fuckin’ real.” The more she hears him speak, the stupider she feels for not realizing how similarly he and the mystery man spoke. 

“Yeah,” she agrees, “and I appreciate all the money you’ve sent.” 

He sighs as if he doesn’t want to say what he’s about to say, but says it anyway. “And I do enjoy our late night chats and video calls.” 

“Me too. Talking with you was my favorite part of the day,” she admits, trying not to cry again. 

“I don’t want this to end just because we already knew each other,” he confesses. 

She looks away from him and down at the table, nervously biting her lip. “But you hate me and I’m not the hugest fan of you either. How could we possibly not end this?” 

“I do not hate you. You only know me when I’m your coach. Outside of that, I promise you I am the man you’ve been talking to.” 

She mulls over his words for a moment before taking a chance and letting her worries go. “Good, because I really like him.”

Negan waves the waiter over and they order their food. The atmosphere is less awkward when the food comes and she’s starting to feel comfortable with him being Negan. They finish eating and he covers the bill. 

“Y’know I wasn’t kidding about takin’ you out on my motorcycle,” he tells her with a smirk on his face as they walk out the restaurant. She follows beside him as he takes her to his motorcycle.  

“Wow, it’s nice,” she comments unsurely. 

“What’s wrong? I thought you wanted me to take you for a ride?”

“I do, it’s just that I also wasn’t kidding about wearing a little dress with nothing underneath…” 

He stops in his tracks and turns to look at her. His hazel eyes scan her body and a smirk spreads across his face, bringing attention to his dimples. 

“You are way sexier in person,” he compliments, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He takes off his leather jacket and ties it around her waist. 

“We won’t go too far, so that should hold you over.” He puts a helmet on her head before putting one on himself. She gets on the bike behind him and he grabs her arms and wraps them around his waist. 

“Hold on tight, baby.” 

He takes off, causing her to hold him even tighter. She watches the scenery pass by as he drives by the coast. The full moon shines beautifully over the ocean as the waves crash along the sandy shore and it soothes her. He stops at an overlook that has an even better view of the beach and climbs off the bike and takes off his helmet before helping her off. She unties his jacket from around her waist and hands it to him, but instead of putting it on, he drapes it over her shoulders, which she's grateful for considering the cool weather. 

"Wow, you really are different when you're not coaching," she teases. He lets out a laugh and wraps his arm around her shoulders and guides her to overpass' railing so they can get a better look at the view. She watches the waves and Negan stands behind her, watching the scenery too. He hugs her around her shoulders, holding her close to his chest. It's an oddly intimate position for people who just met, but when she's not thinking of him as Coach Negan, it feels right. 

"Any other fantasies you wanted to live out tonight?" he whispers in her ear. The feeling of his facial hair and soft lips brushing against the shell of her ear sends tingles down her spine. With his teeth, he gently nips at her ear before pulling away. She turns around to face him and smiles seductively. 

“If I remember correctly,” she bites her lip and slides her hands up his chest before holding onto his broad shoulders, “you said you wanted to fuck me on your motorcycle.” His tongue seductively swipes across his bottom lip before a smirk grows across his face. His big hands slide down her body before cupping her ass. 

“Oh, baby, I was hopin’ you’d say that.”

“Really? Even after you found out I’m the girl you were talking to?” 

“Doll, even before I found your cam girl account, I always thought you were undeniably sexy.”

Warmth spreads across her face at his admission, even though it contradicts the way he treated her during games and practices. 

"Yeah? Well, I can't say I'm disappointed to find out someone as good looking as you is my mystery man," she flirts back. 

He grabs her by the back of her head and pulls her in for a kiss. Having been caught off guard, she gasps, but wraps her arms around his neck and deepens the kiss. His tongue forces its way through her soft lips and she welcomes the intrusion. He picks her up by the backs of her thighs and she reflexively wraps her legs around his waist. She can feel his hard-on through his jeans against her bare pussy, causing her to moan into his mouth. The need to breathe forces her to pull away from him. 

“Negan,” she pants, “I want you to touch me, please!” 

“Patience, baby,” he urges. She pouts and grips his shoulders tightly as she grinds against his clothed erection. Negan lets out a repressed grunt, suddenly regretting asking her to be patient. He carries her back over to his motorcycle and sets her down. He pulls his jacket off of her and hangs it on the handlebars. 

“You look so goddamn delicious in that little dress,” he states as he ogles her. 

“Wore it just for you.”

“I can’t wait to unwrap my present.” A cheeky, dimpled smile lights up across his face as he unzips the back of her dress and peels it off of her body, revealing her naked body to him. Eagerly, she undoes his belt, then his jeans, then pulls his hard cock from his boxers. 

“Wow, it looks bigger than it did on video call.” 

“Just wait til you feel it filling that pretty little pussy.” He sits on the seat of the bike and pats his lap. 

“Wanna ride me on my motorcycle,” he jokes. Her eyes drop to his cock before smiling up at him and eagerly nodding. 

“Go grab a condom out of my jacket pocket.”  She does as he says and hands the condom to him to which he rolls it on. Excitement had filled her mind up until this very moment because now nervousness is taking over. He helps her climb onto his lap and positions her over his dick. He teases her slick folds with his tip, causing her to tighten her grip on his shoulders. Her heart pounds wildly in her chest once she feels him line his tip up with her entrance. 

“You okay?” he asks, his hazel eyes filled with concern. The tense look on her face didn't go unnoticed by him.

“Y-yeah.” 

“Baby, we don’t have to do this.” 

“No! No, I want to. It…It’s just that this is my first time.”

He pauses and rubs a hand over his face. She can’t read his expression as he stares into her eyes. 

“You’re a fuckin’ virgin?” 

“Uh, yeah? It’s kinda in my username on the cam girl site.”

“Yeah, but it’s virginesque, which kinda implies that you’re not really a virgin,” he explains. 

“I know, that’s the point.” 

“I don’t get it…” 

“Well, I’ve never had sex before, but with all the toys I’ve used and stuff I’ve done as a cam girl, I don’t really feel like a virgin." 

“Oh my fuckin god,” he sighs as he urges her to get up. She grabs her dress from off the ground and puts it back on as Negan fixes his pants. Her heart’s still racing, but this time, instead of awaiting Negan’s dick, she’s waiting for his next words. 

“I-is that a problem‽”

“Kinda, yeah. I can’t fuck a virgin on my bike at an overpass in the middle of the fuckin night. Isn’t your first time supposed to be special and with someone you love or some shit like that?” 

“Well what if this is how I wanna have my first time?” 

“There’s better ways!” He argues. 

“Like what?”

The look in his eyes is dark as a smirk spreads across his face. He steps closer to her, his tongue salaciously gliding across his bottom lip. He leans down to whisper in her ear, his lips gently brushing against the shell. 

“What if I fucked you on your livestream. Showed all those pathetic excuses of men you have for viewers that their tiny little cocks could never please you the way I can. Show them that I’m the first man to ever fuck you.” 

Her face blooms with heat and her stomach flutters at his words. She was afraid he was going to completely turn her away, but instead he embraced it. 

part 3 ➢

[gothicrazor]

Anything for you [P1]

Kurt Wagner x Fem!Reader || Rating: PG(?) || WC: 1.4k

Inspiration: Foreigner's God - Hoizer

Content Warning: afab reader, unrequited love (both reader + Kurt), Kurt pining

Authors Note: First time writing for X-Men! Please be kind to me I'm trying pookies, hopefully this turns out okay or I might actually weep! I dunno if anyone would want a part two of this, just lemme know ig??? Also let it be known I used deepL for the few things he said in German... Please don't hate me 😔

Who knew the kiss on the back of a gloved hand could really tank someone's mood as quickly as anything else at a typical Saturday night dinner. Watching the gleam drain from your eyes across the table was something he's sadly used to now. Following your eyes to the end of the table to what he knew you were staring at.

His dear sister and one of his closest friends. Rogue and Gambit. The strongest "couple" next to their leader and his wife. A force strong and immovable. Rogue, too scared to stray. And Gambit, too loyal to look anywhere but her eyes half the time.

And it kills you. Anyone who knows you can see your heart break every time they connect.

Thankfully, no one seems to be paying attention to you, no one but the blue mutant across the table from you. He finds it hard to keep his eyes anywhere but on you. Always has since you met all those years ago. He's seen you at your best, the fierceness burning behind your eyes during the heat of battle. And at your worse... Grieving the loss of something you could never have in the first place.

Your chair screeches, moving across the hardwood of the dining room harder than you intended. Standing up too fast, everyone stared in surprise.

"I'm gonna turn in early." Scott's brow rose behind ruby quartz shades as he stood up.

"Everything okay?" You smile, trying to keep up the facade, not wanting to openly weep in front of the team you call family.

"Just a little tired from training." You grab the edge of your half-eaten plate of dinner before you're met with the rough hand of Logan next to you on your wrist.

"Leave it kid, go get some shut eye." His face almost looks slightly worried, as you don't even put up an argument as usual. Just nodding, you push your chair in and hurry out of the dining room.

Kurt watches you leave, tilting his head to watch you rush up the foyer stairs as chatter picks back up at the table.

"Do you think she's sick?" His ears perk up to the concerned whisper of Jean's voice, looking at Scott as he sat back down at the head of the table.

"It's not unlike her to keep quiet when she's not feeling the best."

"She's barely been eating more than half her food in the past week Scott, I'm starting to get worried. She hasn't been like this since the Professor died." Kurt's head turns, chiming in with his usual soft tone.

"I'll check on her after dinner." Jean and Scott both looked at him. Jean smiling softly as she squeezed his shoulder.

"Thank you, Kurt. She'd probably talk to you before any of us." He nods, his dark hair bouncing lightly before turning his attention back to dinner.

Walking down the hall, he stops at your door, glancing at your nameplate before raising his fist to knock. Freezing for a moment, knowing you'd expect him to come upstairs anytime after you left. Why should he bother to knock at this point?

But Kurt is quite literally a creature of habit. So he does.

Two soft wraps hit the door before grabbing the knob, edging the flat wood open to peek inside. Your room is still dimly lite, only the moon from your window cast over the person-sized lump under the covers of your bed. A soft mutter of your name leaves his lips, yellow eyes glowing as he looks down at the bed.

"Can I come in?" A whimpered 'yes' is all he gets in return, stepping inside with the subtle click of the door closing behind him. The familiar creak of the bed fills the room as he sits on the edge, tail curling over your legs covered by blankets. Hand meeting your side under the covers, eyes falling to their usual worried state, like every time he's comforted you this way before.

Rubbing gently over your lower back, he doesn't say a word, just feeling the slight tremble of your body hidden away from his line of sight. You sniff, pulling the blanket from over your head to look at him, eyes bloodshot and miserable looking. Something he's seen too many times before but still breaks his heart seeing you like this.

"Can you lie with me, please?"

"Anything for you, mein Schatz." He gets up, walking around the bed, pulling the covers back as he climbs in next to you. Fixing them back in place, you assume your natural spot of your head on his chest and his arm around your shoulder. The gentle rub of his hand down your bicep in a soothing gesture.

"Are you okay?" His voice barely raised above a whisper, his cheek settling onto the top of your head. You take in a sharp bit shaky breath trying to calm yourself.

"It's getting harder and harder to be around them... I don't..." You choke up for a second, breathing out a soft whimper.

"I don't know... How much longer can I stand to see them together... It's so unfair of me to feel this way because he'll never love me... Not like Anna, but I just can't... Stop it. I just - I feel terrible for so many reasons." Kurt hugs you tighter, knowing that feeling all too well. Unrequited affections for someone who'll never see you as anything more than a good friend. It almost hurts him knowing you're feeling how he feels constantly.

"I know, I wish I could take the pain away from you." You shudder, sniffling against his chest. Tears welling up in your eyes as you hold onto him like a lifeline, trying to ground yourself in desperation. Squeezing your eyes shut, the tears slipped, soaking the front of his suit.

"I feel so stupid." You whine, starting to hiccup against him, tears sliding past your lashes in groves. Kurt shushes you, moving his hand to your back to cradle you closer. Sharp claws raking over the back of your uniform, gentle touch as he always has with you. His hand moves up, thumb rubbing over your cheek and turning up your chin to look at him.

"You are not stupid, meine Liebe. It's okay to feel this way. The heart wants what it wants. Unforgiving or not, you can't help that."

"Why does it have to be him of all people?" His lips turned to a frown, seeing the hurt behind your eyes. Still wiping your eyes with his thumb, he just shakes his head.

"I wish I could give you the answers. Remy is... A kind man who deeply cares for those he loves. I can see the appeal. But you'll be okay. Eventually, I'm sure of it. You're very strong after all." You just blink, breath quivering as you start to calm down a bit.

"I'm strong..." You mutter under your breath, making him smile slightly before your head goes back to him. Finding his shoulder to lean on, you take in a deep breath, shutting your eyes as you exhale and repeating the words like a prayer.

"Ja, the strongest I know."

"Thank you, Kurt, I don't know what I'd do without you." You give a weak smile as you relax against him, feeling his head leaning against yours.

"And you'll never have to find out, that's a promise." You smile a little wider, a chuckle escaping your lips.

"Can you keep holding me for a little while longer?" He smiles against the top of your head, soaking in the shared warmth between the two of you.

"Of course." You sink into his body, putting your full weight against him. His grip tightened around you. Taking in a deep breath, his eyes wandered from your relaxed expression to the window. Watching the night sky as you slowly drift off in his arms.

Feeling you go slack in his grip, Kurt looks at how relaxed you are now. Thumb moving back over your delicate features like a feather. Something he's done too many times now. But you're so beautiful to him. He can't help but want to touch you. Lips pressing the crown on your head, lingering longer than necessary.

"Ich liebe dich..." His eyes shifted back down to your face, waiting for a reaction he never got. Good or bad. It's just another confession that's gone unheard dozens of times now. No matter how much he's said it.

Smiling at your sleeping expression, he moves down the bed. Shifting onto his side to hold you against his chest. His tail wraps around your waist as he keeps you close.

Cherishing the little moments, he gets to pretend he has your heart... No matter how much it hurts his heart.

♡Thanks for reading♡

[ddejavvu]

heyy!!! saw u were looking for outsiders requests and lemme say, MY OBSESSION WHEN I WAS YOUNGER WAS INSANEEEE!! so u get me??

anyways, what abt a cutie lil fluff drabble where dally is mean to everyone but reader and is super protective over them? and maybe like the other guys make fun of his soft spot for r?

anywhore love ur writing cutie!

send me requests for the outsiders!

i'm so glad you get me <33 everyone in my class made fun of me for how much i liked the book but also i kind of deserved it because i was loud and proud about it. i can barely call it bullying because i totally asked for it

--

You've never been naive about Dallas's reputation: his name's always the first people spit out when something suspect happens in town. But you'd never seen him get quite so worked up before- not the way he does when Two-Bit gets a little too extravagant with his gestures mid-anecdote and sends beer flying out of the neck of his bottle dangerously close to your cream-colored cardigan.

"Hey, hey- hey!" You barely register Dally's sudden snarl before a hand locks painfully tight around your arm, yanking you sideways and out of the line of fire. You gasp, more from the shock than from the spill, but Dally's hand is gone before it can do any damage and you're left to rock slightly on your feet from the momentum.

"Damn drunk, throwin' your beer around like that." Dally sneers, "Jesus, man, can't you just sit still for once? Gotta wave your damn hands around, makin' stupid jokes- you almost flung it on her-" He swivels to face you, "-on her pretty sweater." Dallas lets the words fall off of his tongue like he knows they're ridiculous coming from him. They're clipped, staccato sounds as he brushes a stray piece of fuzz from the shoulder of your clean cardigan.

"Damn, Dal," Two-Bit whistles, "Sor-ry. Y/N, your sweater okay?"

"It's fine." You pipe up quickly, your voice sweet to both placate your simmering boyfriend and make up for the harshness of his words, "Really, none got on my sweater. Nothing got on me at all."

"Just cool it, Dal." Darry watches with a guarded expression where he's perched at the table, and you're sure if it had been anyone else in the town, Dallas would have turned on his heel and shown him how cool the edge of a blade could be. But instead Dallas merely scoffs, muscling you over a few more steps away from Two-Bit with the sharp point of his shoulder and guiding you to sit on the corner of the couch.

"'Thing was probably stupid money." Dallas looks sideways and down at your sweater with faux-distaste, like he hadn't just been defending its honor with as much violence as he could get away with, "Soakin' it with beer would have killed you, huh?"

You could have washed it. Sure, it would have been unpleasant to sit in for the rest of the night, but the stain wouldn't have been permanent, and any lingering smell could have been covered up with perfume. But Dallas seems flighty, like an animal desperately trying to cover its exposed underbelly, and you lean against his shoulder instead of jabbing at his soft spots.

"Mhm. Thanks, Dallas." You hum, admiring the way your cream-colored cardigan wraps around the cool black leather of his jacket when you take his arm in your grip, "Glad you're here to watch out for me."

[aangelkeii]

❝ 𝐃𝐀𝐁𝐈 ❞ | Hey - Luci4 ❦ ❀

Kinktober Day 2: Mutual Masturbation (k.tober 2024)

A/N: okay wow so i am currently writing this really late at night. this month is gonna ruin my sleeping schedule. anyway, more proud of this one right 'ere, so hopefully it hits the spot for everyone else. lemme know if i need to improve on anything. dedicated to the one i love. i love u, ho.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

wc: 4.5k (that's what i'm talking about! hell yeah) | warnings: fem! reader, masturbation (m and f), fingering, jerking, li'l touch of praise, petnames (sweetheart, baby), uhhhhhh a large coke, uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh a half dozen donuts.

You knew it would be a bad idea befriending a villain. 

You supported the cause against the heroes from the beginning, and you were always secretly rooting for the bad guys during every fight, but never in your life did you think you’d come face to face with a literal criminal. And somewhere as normal as a farmers market? You recognized him even with the medical mask that he had on, the discoloured scarring down his neck and on his ears weren’t hidden very well with the flimsy sweater he had zipped up. You’d expect the guy wearing the torn up, very well-loved black zip up to be the biggest prick at the market, but he actually paid the vendors. 

I’m a villain, not a monster.

That’s what he said to you. Corny ass.

Dabi could feel you staring, he knew he'd been found. He couldn’t decide whether he should run for it or confront you, but he saw that pin on your bag. It was some kind of internet thing that someone made, a cheap knock-off of the League of Legends logo, incorporating the League of Villains in with it. It was supposed to be an inconspicuous way of showing support for the villains without explicitly stating that you’d rather watch the heroes rot in hell before you agreed with their methods of operation. You knew yourself that it was stupid or whatever, but it was literally worth two bucks and a lollipop. 

When the two of you made eye contact, you saw something akin to fear in his eyes, like his attempt at trying to support himself during these dire times would be ruined because some prissy bitch decided to run her mouth. You stayed silent though, only giving him the tiniest of smiles and went back to browsing the stands. The next time you looked up he was nowhere to be seen, so you figured that he got what he needed and left before he fucked something up. 

Nope! That fucker followed you home. You lived maybe three blocks away from where the market was set up so obviously you just walked there and back. He came up behind you and put an arm over your shoulder, bending down a bit to your level, and told you to keep your mouth shut or you’d be toast. Literally. He questioned you about your pin, and told you how stupid it was to parade your support around in public, and you must’ve said something impressive because now you can’t get rid of him.

He found himself staying with you over the next few months, crashing at your house whenever his recruitment was going on, and you always covered for him if someone got just a little too curious. It was for their safety, not his. You’d rather not have the local authorities show up at your door because someone caught a glimpse of some man climbing onto your balcony. You let the others stay at your place, too, because you became someone that the League could trust (to a certain extent). Mainly, though, it was just Dabi.

He’s been spending the last couple of weeks at your place, his recruitment not going as he had planned, often coming back frustrated and ready to burn your shit down. He knows better than to actually set your place on fire because you’re the luckiest thing that happened to him and the League. Instead, he sulks in your guest bedroom and spends his time throwing a switchblade into the wall. He might be kind enough to not burn your pace down, but he’ll still cause destruction to whatever he can, his victim being your walls. You’d watch from time to time as he chucks the blade towards your wall like he’s training for the olympics. You’ll fix it when he eventually ditches you.

Even with a wanted villain seeking refuge in your own home, you still had a life to live, and you threw caution out of the window the moment you made eye contact with him that day. Isn’t the smartest idea to leave him alone at your place, but he hasn’t caused too much damage just yet, so you figure you have a bit more time. He’s definitely not the greatest roommate. Sure, he doesn’t leave a mess everywhere and he only occasionally eats everything in the fridge, but he’s loud and inconsiderate of the fact that you have your own routine. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s almost broken down your door because you lock it at night. You should’ve known he would go straight to your place when his mission went south.

It was the weekend now. No work, no plans, nothing to do but waste the day away doing whatever bullshit you can. You thought that maybe you should run to the store before everyone else would get off of work and ruin the peacefulness with traffic, so you yelled out to Dabi and told him you’d be back in a bit.

Dabi doesn’t have many ways to vent his frustrations. He stabs the walls, sets something on fire here and there, but he doesn’t have a healthy outlet. Well, unless you can call fucking his fist ‘self care,’ then he’s the healthiest bitch alive.

Looking down as his hand pumps his cock, pre-cum beading from the head as he thumbs over the slit and drags it downwards. The rough scarring of his hand gives languid strokes up and down the length of him, legs spread as he sits in the cheap desk chair in the room. His head is tilted to the side, royal eyes half-lidded and pierced lips parted with quiet grunts and huffs. He doesn’t jerk off to porn or anything. He has an irksome imagination that plagues him with vivid images of you; underneath him, legs on either side of his hips as he piston his dick in and out of you, head thrown back into the pillows with your throat bared. He’d lean down and lick your jugular from collarbone to jaw, the salty taste of your sweat spreading across his taste buds. 

His thighs twitch with every upwards tug of hand, twisting when he reaches the head again, sucking a breath through his teeth. The familiar tightness in his pelvis is the only form of pleasure he can find these days. His head lolls back, fist tightening around himself as his breathing turns choppy. His whole body grows overbearingly warm and a curse leaves his lips–

“Holy shit.”

Dabi let his guard down. His hand jolts away from his dick and he twists in the chair, the armrest barely blocking your view from it. He feels like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He sure looks like it, too.

“What the fuck?” He breaks out of his deer-in-the-headlights moment and yells. He covers himself up with his hand, brushing over the sensitive underside of his dick, hissing and shuddering. He was so close, so fucking close. 

You’re shell-shocked. Never did you think you’d walk in on a villain trying to get himself off in your home. The sound of his hitching breath meets your ears and something grows within your chest. He stares as you stare, dilated pupils meeting yours, nothing else but the quiet, ragged breathing from the scarred man to fill the space. 

His brain is all muddled from the intense pleasure that was prematurely ripped away from him, the frustrations that he’s been trying to cope with only bubbles back up with your stare. “You just gonna stand there?”

You don’t understand what he’s implying with his words, but since he’s never been the kind of guy to shy away from weird innuendos, you think he’s inviting you to finish the job. A part of him knows that his words can be twisted into something they’re not, he has this weird way of speaking in cryptic riddles that make no sense until you think about them. He’s confused when you carefully step into the room and close the door behind you. The lights aren’t on, and the sun isn’t facing this side of the building, so only the reflected sun from the adjacent building’s windows brings light to the room. It isn’t enough to see the expression on his face or yours, but it’s enough to see your silhouettes; his naked chest rising and falling unevenly, hand still covering whatever dignity he has left, and your unsure posture as you stand.

“Wanna help me out?” Dabi twists in his chair a bit more towards you, enough for your eyes to catch the glint of something shiny below his waist. It’s not his rings, it’s too tiny, but your eyes hone in on the barbells on the underside of his cock. Of course he’s got a fucking jacob’s ladder. The pre covering him in a thin layer of gloss below the belt seems to be the only thing you can see right now.

You manage to tear your eyes away from his dick to walk closer to him, sitting at the foot of the bed in front of him. The eye contact makes him twitch underneath his hand as he waits for you to finally speak. 

“What were you thinkin’ about?” Your voice breaks through the quiet, careful and calm. You must approach this situation with a level of professionalism, it’s not everyday that you’re invited to help a friend get off.

“Who do you think?” Not what, who. You could say that you had no clue, try to ignore the way his eyes shine through his lashes, but the truth is right in front of you - right in front of him. 

Ever since you took him in like some kind of stray cat, his appreciation turned into infatuation, and now he’s obsessed with you. He takes all of these recruitment missions as an excuse to spend time with you.

You shuffled forward, placing a hand just above his knee, feeling just how warm he is even through his sweatpants. Up close you can see the flush across the unscarred skin on his ribs, and it only gets darker with your touch. “I want you to tell me.”

Where did this confidence come from? Dabi’s brows raise slightly in surprise, lips quirked up into a teasing smile. “Look at you, sweetheart, ordering me around.”

The tension in his shoulders dissipates and he leans back, fingers flexing over his dick until he finally brushes the pads of his fingers upwards. He gets a good look at you, as well as he can with this lighting, and his thumb presses into the slit of his cock again. 

“Want me to get into detail?” The heat starts to glow through his bones again. He scoffs lightly at the meek nod you give him. “You were beneath me, heaving like…”

Sometime during his retelling fantasy, your hand moved off of his leg and snuck under the waist of your pants. You could feel your pulse between your legs and your knees flinched closer together when your finger met your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear. The slight hitch of your breath made Dabi falter with his words for just a slight moment, quickly recovering with a new sense of pride in his chest. He so badly wants to close his eyes, but he wills them to stay open, needing to take in the sight of you as desperate as he is. 

“You ever think ‘bout me, baby? I bet you do,” his fingers run over the silver of his piercings. He keeps his pace slow and soft, building back up to where he previously was, allowing you to catch up with him. “Always complaining when I show up, running your mouth. I should shut you up one day.”

“You’re full of it,” your voice was just as broken as his, but the last thing on your mind is your appearance. You lean back on one hand to give you some more space, widening your view of him before you; cock slick with cum, barbels of his Jacob's ladder glistening with every jerk of his hand, florid skin growing ever warmer with your gaze. Dabi feels like an experiment under a microscope, your eyes studying and reading him for reactions. “It’s only fair if I daydream about you, too.”

His hand slows. “Pray tell.”

“Between your legs, letting you hold me down on your dick as you fuck my mouth.”

His head lolls back, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Electricity blooms through his body as he imagines you in that position. By the sound of it, you’d enjoy it. He squeezes his hand around the base of his cock to keep him from blowing his load prematurely. When his eyes open back up, he sees your hand moving a bit more under your pants, then a sigh leaves your lips as you’re finally skin-to-skin with yourself. 

Seeing you so hot and bothered makes his thoughts fuzzy, and before he’s thinking about his actions, he takes his hand away from his cock and moves towards you. You allow him to get closer, allow him to pull at your pants to rid you of them, and before you know it he’s sitting between your legs with your back on the blankets. His spread legs keep you from closing your own as he stares down. The both of you are naked save for your underwear, and the wet spot on the gusset of your underwear makes his mouth water. That’ll have to wait for another day.

He replaces your hand with his thumb, pressing into your clit over your underwear with tiny circular motions. This makes your hand flinch upwards to the pillows, nails digging into the skin of your palm. A cocky smile graces his lips and he applies a bit more pressure, eyes flickering between your face and the slick seeping through your underwear. 

His cock bobs between his legs, twitching with each pitchy huff of your breath. Pride fills his chest when your hips shift closer to his hand, your skin prickling with each circle of his thumb, something unspoken in your eyes as you stare up at him through your lashes. Dabi tilts his head to the side in question.

Silently communicating, your hand unclenches and moves down to your legs, motioning for him to take your underwear off, a plea for him to touch you properly. He laughs.

“I wanna make this last, baby. You gotta be patient for me.”

You know he’s just as desperate to get off as you are, probably even more, so you don’t understand why he’s trying to prolong his pleasure just for some slight teasing. It makes you want to do the opposite of what he’s asked of you. Still making eye contact with him, you reach for his neglected cock and pump your hand without a warning. That cocky smile is wiped from his lips.

He stutters and arches closer, abruptly bucking his hips into your hand. God, your hand feels way better than his. He watches the pre bead from his slit to your hand at the base of his cock, watches as you let it dribble over your fingers and swear it over his shaft. He moves closer to you, making your legs spread wider over his thighs, letting him press his thumb just the slightest bit closer to your clit. The building orgasm that’s been held in his pelvis all this time is growing rapidly and you can tell by the way his eyes threaten to roll into the back of his head. You speed up your jerk, no longer thinking about getting your way, more focused on making him finally come.

“Fuck, fuck, wait,” Dabi stammers when you show no sign of stopping. His muscles feel so tight, and they strain against his will of staying still. It makes him shake and pant. Brows turning up with the increasing tightness in his lower stomach. “G-gonna come, fuckfuckfuck–”.

At least he was kind enough to warn you. Your hand strokes over his piercings and the stimulation brings an intense shiver through his body until finally the pent up frustration of failed missions and loss of dignity is worth it. Cum spurts from his cock and slides down your fingers, lips open with throaty groans, hips bucking with the pull of your hand that doesn’t slow until a pitched noise leaves him. You’re staring at your cum-stained hand, mesmerized.

He huffs. Chest heaving, one hand braced beside your hip, the other gripping your thigh. His eyes are clenched shut. He hadn’t even realized that he stopped touching you. He hisses when you retract your hand and spread your fingers, his cum stringing between them and snapping.

“T-that,” he catches his breath. “That was mean.”

“Should’ve gotten me naked.”

He scoffs at your bite and, almost like he hadn’t just come all over your hand, he pulls at the band of your underwear with a frenzied look in his eyes. The stitches strain against your thighs and some do snap from the tension, but you manage to close your knees a bit and hitch your hips up enough to keep him from destroying them entirely. You’ll probably never see them again anyway. Dabi is a freak.

With your legs resituated across his thighs, both of his thumbs pull at your lips and watch as your wetness slips from your hole, cock jumping back to life at the sight.

“You minx,” he grits. Not out of anger, but out of restraint. It takes so much of his power to not dive between your legs and eat you out like a man starved. “Getting off to me being pathetic. Should’ve known.”

His fingers on the underside of your thighs keep you from closing your legs. They dig into the plush between your thighs and hips, calloused hands metaphorically burning your skin in the best way possible. 

His thumb resumes its previous circles over your clit, and he practically giggles when your hips buck up. His head - the one attached to his shoulders - feels like it’s floating. He moves down and collects the slick, dragging it back up to make his motions smoother. The action makes you keen.

His eyes dart back up to your face, bashful and so clearly turned on that it almost looks unbearable. He feels bad, maybe, for working you up then stopping so suddenly earlier. A small, mean part of him says it’s payback. He’s not going to be mean, though. Not right now.

“I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for letting me stay here,” his thumb slowly moves away from your clit and his middle and ring finger replace it, sliding side to side before dragging down. “Let me show you just how grateful I am.”

“What’re you talking ‘bout?” The words barely leave your lips before his middle finger pushes into you, long and thick, immediately finding your sweet spot and pressing against it. You clench around him, and considering how easy it was for him to plunge in, he figures that you deserve one more. 

Adding his ring finger creates a slight burn, discomfort visible on your face. Your hand reaches out for his arm. He doesn’t push in any further, waits until the crease between your furrowed brows soften and your lips part with a pleased sigh. The bar is so low, but the moment is sweet compared to how he usually is.

Your hand on his arm loosens and slides down the scarred skin, the texture a satisfying contrast to his softer parts. There’s a sudden shift in the air with your touch, his fingers easing into you once again, your shoulders slumping against the pillows.

Wordlessly, Dabi leans forward. You think that maybe he’s just trying to get a better angle, but when the cold silver of his side labrets brush against your bottom lip, your eyes close and you chase after the feeling. His lips slot over yours, a perfect fit, destiny. He draws his fingers out and slides them back in, absorbing the quiet moan that you choke out. His free hand moves up your skin, warm palm cupping the side of your neck and angling your head to press his lips closer, forcing the kiss deeper. Your lips part at the same time that his does, a small startle when your tongues brush together.

Like you’re thrown headfirst into molten lava, your whole body warms beneath him, soaking through his skin and penetrating his bones. He shares the moan you give him, letting go on the side of your neck to join his other hand between your legs. His thumb once again resumes the circlet around against your clit and you clench around him once more. He smiles against the kiss, enjoying how you react to his touch.

With three points of contact, you’re starting to feel trapped beneath him. As much as you’re enjoying the soft touches and gentle caresses, you can’t just lay here and do nothing for him.

Your hand meets his cock again, tacky from the slowly drying cum, but still wet enough for a pleasing slide of your fingers down to the base. He groans against your lips and attempts to move away, but your other hand grips his hair to keep him close. Even as his eyes open just slightly to stare at your closed lids, the furrow of your brows and muffled sounds of pleasure eggs him on. If you want to touch him, he’s not going to stop you.

His fingers pump in and out of you, starting off slow and languid until they pick up the pace, matching the increasing flick of your wrist around him. He manages to pull his lips away from you despite your obvious protest. 

“Feel s’good, sweetheart,” he purrs, his piercing no longer a cold sting against your lips. He curls his fingers inside of you, pressing right up against your g-spot, chest tightening when you moan. Your hand tightens around him and your thumb smoothes underneath his cockhead. “Wanted to touch you for so long.”

“Yeah? Why didn’t you?” Your breathless voice cuts through to his muddied brain. 

“I’m a villain, not a monster.”

His vexing smile returns. You fail to push down the laugh, fisting his cock faster in return to his quote. His laugh joins yours, albeit stammered, speeding up the pumping of his fingers. The pads push up against your sweet spot with each ‘in and out’ motion, your knees bending and thighs falling open wider around him. He invites himself closer to you and licks your lips, groaning when your tongue reciprocates. 

“Gonna make you come on my fingers,” he slurs against your lips, mouth full of your combined saliva. “Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Be a good girl and come f’me.”

The sudden praise gives you whiplash, and the coiling tension in your stomach grows warmer and warmer, muscles burning and hole clenching around his fingers. His lips mutter soft praises and encouragements, bringing you closer to the edge. The non-stop pump of your wrist brings him closer, too, seemingly stronger than before. 

“Dabi, fuck,” his name on your tongue makes him want to burrow into your skin. His infatuation is growing into pure obsession. “Y’close?”

He feels you tense around his fingers, holding yourself back from coming before him, but he’s quick to reassure you. “Mhm, so fuckin’ close, baby.”

Your nod makes his lips brush against yours, but neither of you can pull yourselves out of the headspace you’re in to act any further on it. The ache between your thighs grows evermore hot and suddenly you feel that creeping pleasure morph into a rush of fire down your spine. You make a small noise in warning, not able to find the words, but Dabi knows exactly what’s happening because he feels it, too.

“Come for me. C’mon, sweetheart,” his gentle words turn into a desperate begging as he humps his hips into your hand. He nods along with your keening moans, joining in with pathetic pleas for your cum to soak his fingers in return. 

With a final searing fire through your body, your head falls back and your mouth falls open, breath hitching and thighs twitching against his bare hips. He doesn’t falter his fingers, staying constant with his speed inside of you and the circuit of his opposite thumb against your clit. Seeing you fall apart beneath him, mouth hung open with your throat bared to him just like in his fantasies. His next orgasm sneaks up on him, his cum shooting from his cock once more, landing on the crease of your thigh and hip bone. He can feel just how hot you are underneath his hands, and his praises just keep going despite how choked they sound.

Your own orgasm was prolonged with his unfaltering movements, the hot feel of his cum dribbling down your fingers, and the swift shift of his body towards yours. His tongue licks from the tip of your collarbone and up to your jaw, tasting that salty sweetness he’s been craving for so long, hinging his mouth open wider to suck at your neck. He’s careful of your pulse, he can feel it rushing under his tongue, but he’s responsible enough to stay clear. Only when your hips start to squirm away from him does he finally stop his hand, retracting it and bringing it up between the two of you. He spreads his fingers and watches as your cum strings and snaps. Now he knows why you did it.

Dabi sticks his tongue out without a second thought, licking his fingers clean like he’s done it plenty of times before, not bothering to comment on your attest of his actions.

“You’re nasty,” you wipe your cum-covered hand on your shirt, rolling your eyes when he smirks around his fingers. He wipes his spit-covered hand on your shirt and leans in closer until his forehead meets your shoulder.

“You get off on it,” he snarks back. He laughs at your weak attempt to push him off of you.

Your muscles cry out when you go to move your legs, ignoring it in order to pull your pants back on. Dabi stops you from doing so, standing up on clumsy feet over to the dresser, pulling out two pairs of boxers. He throws one pair to you and heads to the nightstand, pulling open the drawer for a pack of wipes. He shrugs at your look of question.

“You leave me here a lot, may as well use that time for something good,” he helps clean between your legs, apologizing when you buck away from sensitivity. He then cleans himself, disposing of the wipes, then flops onto the bed beside you. He pulls you close against him and traps you halfway underneath him.

You make the slightest noise of annoyance before you accept the new position, wrapping yourself around him. “Nasty.”

He bites into the meat of your shoulder, unyielding with your push against his head. “Get used to it.”

© aangelkeii - do not repost, translate, plagarize, or claim any of my works as your own.

taglist: @ggriwm @ppsucker3000 @cstandsforchaos @jakeyjakies @cphlo @dumbwaystolive

[lueurjun]

shy soobin as your boyfriend

shy bf! soobin x reader — loving soobin hours rn majorly<3 in which soobin is completely and utterly enchanted and captivated by you, enamored with all that you are.

oh you lucky lucky gorgeous specimen

he is fr the perfect man but ur just as perfect so you know what? MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN

the way you met is pretty standard

you worked at the barista he liked to visit frequently

he visited the coffee shop twice a day just to see you

and you had no idea that he thought u were a lil cutie patootie so you were a little concerned by his caffeine intake

he would stay and have like 3 cups each visit just so he could see you for as long as possible

most of the time he would be trying to work up the courage to say something other than his order but he couldn’t get the confidence

and despite you being concerned for his health, you lowkey HIGHKEY got excited everytime he came in because he was just so???

perfect

like you’re sure you heard wedding bells the first time you saw him

it’s okay babe so did the rest of us

we’re all a little delulu for soobin

anyways one day you’ve had enough

running off like two hours of sleep, the delirium kicks in and you have a massive burst of confidence

so you write your phone number on the cup for his final order which is to go

and soobin doesn’t notice until he gets home and taehyun spots the number on the side

“who in their right mind decided to give you their phone number? are they okay? why would they want you?”

soobin’s kinda like ??

because first of all RUDE of taehyun to attack him like that unprovoked

and second of all WHY IS THERE A PHONE NUMBER ON HIS CUP

from what he saw, you were the only one on shift making his drinks so??

it had to be from you

omg. the poor boy nearly goes into cardiac arrest

because wtf does he do now? he can’t just text you

what if it’s an accident?

there’s no way he can embarrass himself like that

so he decides to leave it despite the agonising ache to do anything but that

once he’s out of the room taehyun’s little shit mode is activated

soobin may not have the confidence to text you

but he sure does

‘hi. is this the girl from the coffee shop?”

honestly your heart shits itself

because you totally were not expecting him to text you back

‘yeah. sorry if this is weird and unprofessional. you can totally get me fired- i mean-i’d like prefer you to not but you totally can… i’m not a creep though… i promise’

you totally nailed that babes

definitely didn’t come across as a creep

already taehyun ships it and decides he has to play matchmaker because he already knows you’re perfect for soobin

so he sets the two of you up on a date

soobin damn near cries when he finds out an hour in advance

“a date? what? i don’t know how to do that”

poor boy is STRESSED

but much to his surprise, he doesn’t totally mess things up

the date actually goes smoothly and he leaves you with a kiss on the cheek after setting up a second date

you both squeal when you part ways

you’re both so cute pls get married

lemme be your maid of honour

ONTO THE RELATIONSHIP BC THIS IS ALREADY LONG IM VERY SORRY

boyfriend soobin is straight out of a book istg

he’s so awkward but in the best way??

like he’s not afraid to show you affection and tackle you with love

but the second you do something as simple as kiss his cheek

BLUSHING STUTTERING MESS

you have him wrapped around your pinky finger

honestly you could probably tell him to jump into a river and he most likely would without any questions

follows behind you like a lost puppy despite towering over everything

holding onto the tips of your fingers letting you drag him along

fancy dinners happen but the two of you are more order in and play mario kart

he’d probably let you win the first few times but the second you gloat about it

nah he’s playing like there’s 100k on the line

BACK HUGS BACK HUGS BACK HUGS

BACK MF HUGS

he loves snuggling into your neck and inhaling your scent. it calms him down for sure

you do this thing where you gently slide your hands up the back of his shirt

AND HE GIGGLES EVERYTIME

silently sharing his food and drink with you

he just holds the straw or food to your mouth without saying anything

whenever he buys you flowers, he takes one out and keeps it for himself so he knows when it’s time to replace them

you also love buying him flowers

he gently didn’t know what to do with himself the first time you did it

“these are for me? no way- you didn’t-babyyy”

can you hear my cries?

sliding down the wall rn

his instagram is pretty much a y/n fan page

like genuinely his feed is just you

visits you during work and spends half of the time flirting with you and the other half stuttering over his sentences because you threw a compliment at him

also your concerns for his health lessened once you realized he only drank that much caffeine just because he wanted to see you

if anyone tries to flirt with him, he’ll incorporate you into the conversation

the other person will just be stood there whilst he rants about all of the things he loves about you

it’s a reflex. he just loves you sm

taehyun can’t tell whether he’s happy for you both or genuinely disgusted

“the happiness i caused for you both makes me severely sickened.”

cue beomgyu popping up like “ALSO WRITING YOUR NUMBER ON HIS COFFEE ORDER? REALLY Y/N? THATS SO LAME”

they’re super happy for you both tho they just won’t admit it

you and soobin are in your own little love bubble

two hopelessly in love puppies who are destined to be together

absolutely adorable.

[schemmentigfs]

hellooo!!! i actually love your work so much.. anyways all this lisa content is amazing!! i wanted to request something but im not sure if you would write it, and it’s totally okay if you don’t.

i wanted to request a melissa x reader, where they’re dating and both working at abbott.. the reader has always struggled with mental health and physical health and mel and barb noticed it and gave the reader support and tried to help them get better everyday. one day during parent teacher conferences one of the parents starts yelling at the reader (which leads them to go into a panic). mel over hears and obviously goes to check on her gf, she steps in and tells the parent to back off and leave (very over protective mel). melissa tries to calm the reader down she thinks it works but it doesn’t and the reader is left very hurt still by the parent. the next few weeks r fell back into old habits and melissa and barb start to notice but especially mel. she ends up talking to the reader abt everything and it’s very emotional.. SO SORRY for rambling. 🩷 idk if this is triggering or anything so if it is it’s okay if you don’t write it. ANYWAYS love you 💋💋

Pretty When You Cry. (Part 1)

Summary: an argument triggers your childhood trauma and makes you return to self-destructive habits worrying both mel and barb, especially the redhead who knows that you struggle with mental and physical health conditions.

Warnings: mental and physical health conditions, body images, pstd.

i’m considering the idea of a taglist, so lemme know if you are interested. 🤍

That Thursday morning, you woke up with a bit of a headache and a slight grumpiness. If possible, you would spend the whole day lying in bed. Resting your mind that lately felt like a whirlwind of self-deprecating thoughts.

It was nothing new that your mental health had always been quite fragile. Anything considered small or stupid to certain people could trigger certain traumas you suffered in the past — most of them were because of certain family members, but it was better not to bring up the subject right now.

“Fuck,” you murmur, hiding your face in the warm and cozy blanket trying to protect yourself from the small sun's rays that escape through the curtains. “Why do I have to go to work? I would prefer to stay at home. Doin’ nothing just sleeping.”

The previous night had been a quiet one, a rare moment of calm in your usually hectic routine. You’d come home from work, order Thai food, and indulge in a few episodes of Criminal Minds: Evolution—a simple pleasure that provided a temporary escape. After that, you’d taken a long, soothing shower and spent time cleaning up the mess that had accumulated in the house. The tasks, though necessary, had left you utterly drained, and now your body was aching for more rest.

The alarm goes off once again, this time a little louder than expected, making you shiver and cover your ears with the pillows. In an attempt to drown out the noise.

“Stupid thing!” you screamed, closing your eyes slowly. “I fucking hate that sound.”

After finally stopping the damn alarm, with some difficulty you dragged yourself to the bathroom, sighing in relief as the cold water from the shower ran over your body. Brushing off any remains from sleep.

Shivering from the chill of the cold water, you stumbled into the kitchen wearing a robe, where you threw together a hastily improvised breakfast. The simplicity of it mirrored your mood, barely enough to be considered a proper meal. Since you just forced yourself to eat, so you wouldn't collapse at school and ending at the nurse’s office, throwing up. You then shuffled to your closet, taking your time to select the clothes for the day. Each choice seemed laborious, and the process felt like an unnecessary hurdle in your already challenging morning.

Your insecurity about appearances was a constant and noticeable presence in your life. Almost every day, you find yourself caught in a battle with your reflection, struggling to feel comfortable with the way you look. Today was no different. The familiar routine of choosing an outfit felt like an endless process, one that left you feeling both frustrated and defeated.

After some deliberation, you decided on a pair of black ankle boots. They were reliable, providing a sense of grounded stability and a touch of sophistication. Paired with them, you chose gray jeans—simple and understated, yet versatile enough to fit almost any mood or occasion. You held the jeans up to your body, assessing how they would look and feel throughout the day.

Next came the black t-shirt, which was comfortable and neutral, a staple in your wardrobe that rarely elicited any strong feelings. It was a no-fuss choice, blending easily with other pieces. You slipped it on and looked at yourself in the mirror, running a hand over the fabric as you contemplated the overall look.

Finally, you reached for the white sweater with the cow print—an adorable gift from Melissa on Christmas night. It was a thoughtful present, wrapped with care and given with warmth. The sweater’s playful design brought a small smile to your face, recalling you of that special night spent at her place. Its softness and the gentle reminder of your girlfriend’s affection added a layer of comfort to your outfit, despite your lingering doubts.

You pulled the sweater over the t-shirt, smoothing out any creases. Standing in front of the mirror, you took in the ensemble. The combination of black, gray, and white felt balanced, you still found yourself nitpicking. The cow print sweater, while endearing, felt out of place in the context of your otherwise simple outfit. You fidgeted with the hem, trying to adjust it so it sat just right, and sighed, wishing you could effortlessly feel confident in your choices.

“That should do it?” you question in front of the mirror, not being able to look at your own reflection for more than two minutes, afraid of finding a flaw that could stay in your mind for weeks. “I'm not the most stunning person in the world but... that's fine?”

The way you criticize yourself was depressing to say the least. Low self-esteem was normal in your head at this point — that could easily be treated with the help of therapy, but this idea was never considered. You had a lot of difficulty opening up to anyone about your problems and thoughts, preferring to hide all the negative emotions inside you. Not caring about how it could negatively affect you later.

After spending another fifteen minutes checking your makeup and fixing your hair, you head downstairs and make a quick mental note. Everything was according to plan, that was a good signal. Things were perfectly organized inside the bag, the snack was packed along with your favorite bottle of water, next stop: Willard R. Abbott.

All you had to do now was wait for Melissa to arrive and pick you up, driving both safely to work.

You quickly texted her, fingers dancing across the screen. Hi, babe. Are you already on your way? I’m ready to head out.

Since the two of you started dating, the morning car rides had transformed into a cherished routine. Every day, you’d hop into her car, a cozy little sedan that always smelled faintly of her favorite vanilla air freshener. The moment the door shut, it felt like stepping into a bubble crafted just for the two of you. On the way to school, you’d dive into animated discussions about the day ahead—plans, hopes, or even silly anecdotes from your previous days.

The radio often tuned into classics, an Elton John ballad or a catchy Beatles tune. You both often found yourselves singing along, the lyrics becoming an unofficial soundtrack to your relationship.

Checking on your phone again, you smile when you see new messages from your girlfriend. What’s up hon? I’m on my way, can’t wait to see ya. <3

I’m sure you look beautiful as always, pretty girl.

A faint warmth creeps up your cheeks as you read that. Melissa Schemmenti, a name synonymous with grit, strength, and resilience in Philadelphia, was known by everyone as the woman who always had the last word. The one who could stare down the toughest of problems without flinching, who knew exactly who to call in every situation — a woman who, with her fiery red hair and even fierier spirit, commanded respect wherever she went. Among her many titles, being one of the most revered teachers at Abbott Elementary stood tall, cementing her as a force to be reckoned with.

But behind that formidable, almost considerably enigmatic figure was a side of her that few had the privilege to witness. Hidden beneath the surface was an angelic, tender-hearted woman who loved fiercely and unconditionally. Her passion wasn’t just for her students or the world she navigated with such certainty; it was for the people who meant the most to her, the ones lucky enough to call her theirs. And you, more than anyone, had the honor of seeing that softer side often — the beautiful side of Melissa that would do anything for the ones she cherished.

It never failed to surprise you how your girlfriend, revered for her unyielding strength, could also be so vulnerable and open with you. Her tough exterior was only one part of her, a shield she expertly wielded to protect herself and those around her. But in the quiet moments you shared — when her rough edges softened and she let her guard down — you saw the depth of her warmth and care. It was then you realized just how lucky you were, to be loved by someone who could face the world with such ferocity and still be gentle enough to hold you close.

Your phone vibrates again, pulling you out of your lovely thoughts. I’m here, dolcezza mia. The text said, making you chuckle. The older woman was a speed demon. It was surprising that she had never had any problems in traffic — even though she had passed speed laws several times.

“Okay. It's time to go,” you say to yourself playing with the silver rings on your left hand. It was possible to survive today. “I hope it’s a great day, my mind is a mess to deal with any problems that could arise.”

After securing the door, you glanced over to find Melissa leaning casually against her car, keys twirling between her fingers—a little quirk of hers you found endearing. Every time you two were heading out anywhere, she did it. The first time you asked why, she’d just smirked and said it kept her from getting bored.

“Hiya, hon!” she called out, her warm smile making your heart flutter.

“Hey, Lissa!” you waved.

The closer you got, the more hypnotized you were for her beauty.

She was breathtaking in the sunlight, reminiscent of Aphrodite herself. Her auburn hair cascaded in perfectly defined curls, and she wore a black blouse, red blazer, black pants, and heels. Basically one of the signature Melissa outfits—a true goddess in every sense.

You could never tire of admiring her.

“Good morning, my beautiful angel,” she says, giving you a short peck. The loving act makes you flush immediately. “How did we sleep?”

“Better than last week, but I must admit I prefer it when you are spooning me and snoring lightly every five to seven minutes. Or kicking the sheets out of bed with your feet to use me as a human heater!” you reveal, playing with the various necklaces around the older woman’s neck. One of your favorite hobbies.

She laughs at your answer, rolling her eyes in a way to protest. “I don't do this. I don’t snore in my sleep, cucciolina.”

“Yes, you do. But I don’t mind, it helps me sleep. And is nice to be your personal blanket,” you responded before capturing her lips again.

“I must admit that I love when you fall asleep in my arms,” she said, against your mouth and rested her hands on your waist, pulling you closer. “Oh, baby. You are always so warm and soft, I can't resist to not use ya as my favorite human blanket.”

“Your favorite, hm?”

“Absolutely,” the redhead woman tells you before sealing her lips with yours for one last time. The mini make-out session was interrupted minutes later much to your dismay.

“Mel,” you whine when she pulls away. “That’s not fair.”

“Later, amore. Later. We’ll have all the time in the world when we get home from work,” she promises with a goofy grin. “Come on, we can’t be late like last time.”

“Fine,” you replied, raising your hands in redemption. “You’re right, but don't forget your word, Schemmenti!” The taunt makes the redhead laugh.

“Trust me honey, we Schemmentis never break promises,” she winks, slapping your ass, making you squeal in surprise.

“Good,” you tease.

—

The car ride was completely peaceful, your girlfriend took advantage of the silence and talked about a funny situation that happened at the Schemmentis daily dinner last night. Seamus, one of Melissa’s siblings and the teacher herself had made fun of Kristen Marie’s failed attempt to make Fettuccine al Pomodoro. Ending up in an argument between the three, Tony held Melissa. John Anthony held Seamus, while Mary Camille held Kristen, interfering before they could punch each other.

“I just can’t believe this happened!” you exclaimed nibbling on the corner of a granola bar. “Did she say something?”

“Kristen was like; Voi due idioti! Be kind for once in your life. I dedicated myself this time,” your girlfriend imitates her younger sister with a funny voice. “I don’t want to be insufferable, but that was worse than the shit Janine would take for lunch. And pipsqueak cooked like she was teached in fuckin’ prison.”

You chuckled uncontrollably with her comment. “Teagues and her meals. Thank goodness you gave her and Hill some cooking lessons. Anyways, was Kris that mad?” The curiosity spoke louder.

“Yeah, she looked like an angry dragon about to burn us both with her mortal glare,” the older woman confirms, alternating her gaze between the road and you. “Afterwards, Ma scolded us and we had to convince Kristen that she had made a wonderful dish.” Melissa concludes grimacing, making it clear that that was something she simply hated doing.

“That’s hilarious. I wish I could be there to see the look on her face. But between us, you cook better than her and anyone else, babe.”

“Smartass.”

—

As soon as she parked the car in her favorite spot, Melissa studied you closely and carefully. Before doing what she did daily: checking if everything was okay and under control. It was common for her to do this at least three times a day, it was a way of knowing what was happening to you that day and what were the emotions you were dealing with — you could change your mood in seconds. And the teacher knew this very well.

Once, Janine made one of her signatures innocent yet inadvertently triggering comments during a discussion in the teacher’s lounge. Her words, though harmless to most, struck a nerve, and within seconds, you were seething. The rest of the day, you gave her and the other teachers the cold shoulder, brushing off their attempts to defuse the tension. Everyone was taken aback by how rattled you were.

The following day, Janine nervously showed up at Melissa’s door—where you were staying for the week—carrying a homemade strawberry pie and wearing a panicked smile, desperate to apologize. Poor Teagues.

“Ready for another day?” your girlfriend asks with her hand on your thigh giving a firm squeeze. Something that she knew gave you comfort and security.

You unlock your seat belt and take a deep breath before answering. “Yes, I am.”

“Perfect,” she replied, her tone brightening. “But remember..”

“If anything happens, I’ll come to you or Barbara immediately,” you interjected, the mantra rolling off your tongue with an air of familiarity. Those simple instructions had been repeated so often that you could recite them in your sleep. Despite the tedium of hearing them, you knew they came from a place of care but it was exhausting to always feel that weight of caution.

“That’s my girl. And?” She started but you politely interrupted her.

“Don’t worry. That won’t be necessary, at least not today, babe.” Your voice held a newfound determination, and Melissa raised her eyebrows in surprise, clearly impressed by your confidence.

“Y/N, are you sure?” she asked, her concern and hesitation palpable. “I trust you, but there’s no problem in calling me. I’ll be here to help you with anything. Any hour, any second.”

At the beginning of your relationship, the older woman had no idea about the struggles you faced with your mental and physical health. It took courage to open up, especially after past experiences where your concerns were dismissed as exaggerations. When you brought up the subject with previous partners, it was common for them to treat you like a joke.

But with Melissa it was different, she listened intently, never laughed or brushed off your feelings. Instead, she thanked you for sharing such a delicate part of yourself, promising to stand by you as you worked toward improvement. Which felt like a lifeline.

You even established a code word, something simple that would let her know when you sensed a panic or anxiety attack coming on. This understanding made you feel safer, knowing she was ready to help you without judgment.

Eventually, you also confided in Barbara, who, just like your girlfriend, offered unwavering support.

“I’m a hundred percent sure,” you affirmed, holding her hand. “And I'm already a grown adult, I can handle things by myself.”

“Alright. That’s nice to hear. I'm sorry if I make you feel suffocated sometimes with my overprotection,” she shrugs, clearly embarrassed.

“Melissa, don't apologize for this. I appreciate your concern, you just want to see me well and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Your words seem to relax her and she hums giving a little kiss on your nose. “Fine. Knowing this makes me relieved. But if it's ever too much, don't hesitate to tell me,” she presses another kiss, this time on your lips.

“Okay.”

Parent-teacher conference week at school was always a blend of anticipation and exhaustion. It was fulfilling to sit down with parents and discuss the progress of the students you nurtured daily.

Most of them were eager to hear about their child’s development, offering warm words and appreciation for your dedication. You'd grown accustomed to receiving kind remarks about your teaching methods and the ways you made learning feel accessible. Compliments like, “You really care about the kids,” or “Our son has never been more engaged!” lifted your spirits, even when the work got tough.

But there were always exceptions. One in particular, had been a source of constant frustration—Kaya’s mother, Sienna.

Kaya was a bright girl but struggled with math. Her problems weren’t just academic; she also had a tendency to stir up trouble, distracting others and sometimes testing your patience. Sienna, instead of working with you to help her daughter, seemed to think the problem was the school’s responsibility alone. Her criticism was endless, and rather than discussing solutions, she often came with complaints. It was a headache you knew you'd have to deal with again later that day.

But you had no idea that it would turn out like it did.

Meanwhile, Melissa was in the teacher’s lounge, oblivious to the emotional storm brewing in your head. The redhead sat at the usual table where you, she, and Barbara often huddled together during breaks, sharing class plans or planning something to do together after school. She had a calm air about her as she sipped from her well-worn Tucci On mug, her gaze fixed on an article she was reading on her phone.

Barb enters the room, and raises her eyebrows when she sees the redhead. “Mel, how nice to have you here,” the kindergarten teacher greeted her work wife with a kind smile. “I must admit I'm surprised, I thought you had already left?” she said, pulling out the chair to sit down.

“Not yet,” she responds by leaving her cellphone aside. “I'm waiting for Y/N. We're leaving together,” she reveals, trying to hide a small smirk that threatened to appear on her face.

“I noticed,” Barb singsongs with a chuckle. “So, things are going great between the two of you?”

Melissa’s face softened at the question. “Yeah, they are,” she confessed, voice quieter now but brimming with warmth. “Y/N’s special, Barb. There’s just something about her... something that makes me want to be better, to fight for us. She’s got this way of making me feel safe. Safe in a way I never did with Joe, not even once during our marriage. I think... I want her to move in with me. It feels right.”

Barbara leaned back in her chair, surprised but delighted. “Sweetheart, that’s a big step! Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

The green eyed woman nodded, a smile growing on her face as she thought of you. “Definitely. It just feels natural. I can’t explain it, but she makes me feel at home. I feel lucky to have her in my life.”

The two of them continued chatting, the conversation drifting from their relationships to lighter topics—some classroom gossip, a funny anecdote from the new golf construction. They both laughed as they recounted moments that made their sometimes chaotic workdays bearable.

But just as Melissa was taking another sip from her mug, the door to the lounge swung open with a loud thud, and Janine burst into the room. She was out of breath, her face flushed with worry, her eyes wide with panic as if she had just run across the entire building.

“Guys,” she says, stuttering desperately. Alerting everyone present in the room. “I was in my class, packing my things to leave, but something happened that honestly seems quite worrying,” the second grade teacher starts rambling. “The correct solution for me was to run here to-”

“Whoa, easy, kid. That way you won’t be able to tell us what’s going on.” Melissa says getting up, handing her a fresh glass of water.

The youngest takes a sip of water and breathes, finally managing to say what she had heard in the hallway. “I think Y/N is in trouble.” she started. “I heard a mother of one of her students shouting horrible things at her. I tried to go check but...”

“But?” Barb questions with clear concern for you. Silently praying to heaven that you were protected and safe from any danger.

“I heard a loud noise, like something being thrown to the floor. Then there was a startled scream.”

“Shit.”

“Sorry for not checking, Mel. I freaked out and decided to seek help.” She runs to Gregory's arms, hugging him tightly as she trembles, seeking comfort in her boyfriend.

“Jesus Christ,” Barbara gasps in complete shock, her heart aching with maternal concern.

Jacob put his hands on his mouth, horrified. Mr. Johnson lost the grip on the broom and Gregory cursed under his breath.

Melissa lost control, clenching her fists, her blood starting to boil. If there was something she hated, it was when someone acted like that towards you. That was completely unacceptable. This whole situation activates the redhead’s instinct to fight or fight. No one laid a finger on you, no one. If some idiot touched you, they’d probably come away with several broken bones and a black eye. Or even worse.

“All of youse. Stay here,” she warns, taking off her earrings ready to start a fight with this mother. “No one messes with my girlfriend.”

Jacob offers, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I can go check on her with you, that would be safer.”

She interrupts him, sighing softly and puts her earrings on his palms. “You stay here, J,“ she repeats firmly. “I’m gonna deal with that bitch alone.”

As the second grade teacher rushed past, the rest of the crew watched her go, exchanging worried glances. They could sense the storm brewing ahead, the kind of confrontation that could escalate quickly.

“Please, Lord, give them strength,” Barb murmurs under her breath, her eyes following Melissa’s determined figure.

The redhead storms out of the room, running down the long hallway with slight desperation. “Fuck. Please babe, be okay. I’m coming for you.” Melissa whispers to herself accelerating her steps with each word. Your classroom was at the end of the hall, quite distant. Which made her more tense.

“Come on you piece of shit,” she growls trying to open the door as quickly as possible. “C’mon.” After what seemed like an eternity, the older woman managed to open the locked door thanks to a hairpin she kept in her pocket for emergencies.

“Hun, are you alright?” she asks breathlessly entering the classroom. No answer.

Her green eyes swept around the entire room, taking in the chaotic scene. One of the chairs had been tossed to the floor, your student’s mother stood in the center, arms crossed and seething with fury, while you leaned against the wall, visibly trembling terrified.

“What’s going on here?” Melissa’s voice rang out, sharp and loud, echoing down the hall. It wasn’t just a question—it was a demand. Everyone within earshot would know she meant business.

“Ms. Schemmenti. How nice to have you here,” the woman says with a mocking smile, making Melissa squint her eyes trying to hide the urge to jump on her neck. “This girl is completely unstable. I was talking to her and two minutes later she started crying tirelessly!” she pointed in your direction in an attempt to victimize herself. Which didn't work. “I don’t think Ms. Y/N is capable of teaching our children. There must be better teachers qualified.”

Anger and fear consume your body in a frightening way. “That’s bullshit! You came at me furious!”

“So besides being unstable, you’re completely rude. I must say I expected nothing less.”

In any other situation, you might have fired back with a stronger argument, defending your teaching methods or your worth. But right now, you were too shaken, too overwhelmed to fight. Her words cut deep, and Melissa could see it—the way you shrank into yourself, your body trembling as the weight of her insults bore down on you.

The redhead’s protective instincts kicked into overdrive. Rage bubbled up inside her, and she was ready to tear the woman apart.

“Sienna, I don’t know what happened here, but you don’t get to walk into this classroom and treat Y/N like that. I don’t care how angry you are, you will not speak to her with such aggression.” The older woman growls, crossing her arms.

“You only say that because you always protect that irresponsible girlfriend of yours!” she insisted. “Ms. Schemmenti, If it weren’t for you, this girl would probably be completely lost right now. Without you? She is nothing.”

Those words hit like a knife to the heart. You stood frozen, the world around you suddenly growing quiet. It was as if everything faded, leaving only the echo of her cruel words reverberating in your mind.

Without Melissa, you were nothing.

Your mind spiraled. The painful memories resurfaced—the nights of doubt, the constant fear of not being enough. It all came rushing back. The yelling, the arguments, the terrifying loneliness. You felt like that child again, lost in a nightmare with no way out.

“Enough!” Melissa snapped. “You’re talking nonsense. Everyone here knows that Y/N is an incredible teacher. She’s dedicated, she’s compassionate, and she works her ass off to make sure every kid in this classroom feels safe and cared for. You have no right to talk to her like that!”

The mother scoffed, clearly offended, her face twisting in anger. “This school is a disaster. You clearly don’t care about the well-being of our children!” she spat before storming toward the door.

Melissa, her voice low and venomous, whispered.“We care about the kiddos, unlike you who can’t even pay attention to your own child.” Then, under her breath, she added. “Fottuto idiota.”

The door slammed shut behind the mother with a loud bang, and the sudden noise made you flinch. Your entire body was trembling now, your surroundings no longer feeling familiar. The once-safe space of your classroom now felt like an alien, dangerous place.

You took a step back, eyes wide, as if the Melissa in front of you was someone else—someone who could hurt you. Your mind raced with the possibility, the fear, that maybe she would leave you too. Maybe, like everyone else, she would decide you weren’t worth it.

Your girlfriend took a step toward you, her expression softening the moment she saw your fear. “Y/N… babe, hey…” she started gently, reaching out to you.

“Please! D...Don’t touch me,” you stuttered, trembling, your body frozen in fear. “I didn’t mean to!”

Melissa’s face dropped as she saw the terror in your eyes. Panic overtook her usually calm demeanor, and her voice cracked with emotion. “Baby, what’s going on?!” She was already tearing up, the sight of you so terrified breaking her heart. “It’s me… it’s just me.”

Her voice, familiar and soft, broke through the haze for a moment. It wasn’t the voice of someone who would hurt you—it was Melissa, your girlfriend, desperately trying to understand what was happening.

“MEL—” you screamed in anguish, your voice raw with fear. “I CAN’T BREATHE.”

Those words were all you could manage. It felt like you were back in that old nightmare, trapped in a memory from your childhood. You tried to take a step toward her, but your legs felt like they were glued to the floor, unmovable. The sensation of being stuck made the panic worse, and your breaths came out in short, frantic gasps.

The redhead had never seen you like this before, this overwhelmed, this scared. Her own fear surged, but she didn’t have the luxury of freezing up. She had to act.

Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms tightly around your waist, pulling you into her warmth. The feeling of her soft body pressed against yours provided a small comfort, a fleeting moment of calm, but it wasn’t enough to fully pull you back.

Melissa tilted your chin gently with one hand, forcing your eyes to meet hers. “I got you. I got you, baby,” she whispered, her voice low and filled with love.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you gasped, still struggling to breathe.

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart. This isn’t your fault,” she reassured you, her hands cradling your face. Her touch was soft, grounding. “You’re safe. This is a safe space. She’s gone now. She won’t yell at you anymore. I won’t let that happen.”

“Lissa,” you sobbed, your tears soaking through her black blouse. “She tried to—”

“I know, baby. I know,” Melissa whispered soothingly, kissing your hair. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. But don’t worry, I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

She held you tightly, her grip firm but tender. “Amore, do you remember our breathing exercises? To help calm down?” she asked gently. You nodded, your body still trembling but starting to settle with her touch.

“Let’s do them together, okay? We’ll get through this,” Melissa said softly, her thumb brushing against your cheek. You focused on her voice, on the rhythm of her breathing, trying to match it with your own.

Gradually, your breaths started to slow, your chest loosening just enough for you to feel the air flow back into your lungs. The fog of panic began to lift, replaced by the comforting presence of Melissa, always steady, always there.

“There you are,” she murmured, her voice filled with relief. “Cucciolina, are you okay?” she asked, wiping a stray tear from your cheek.

“I dunno,” you whispered, your voice shaky but calmer now. You rubbed at your swollen eyes, still feeling the weight of the moment but no longer drowning in it. “Can we just… go home?”

Melissa smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Of course, we can. Let’s get outta here. I’ll take care of everything. And… I was thinking…” She hesitated for a moment, then continued, “Maybe you can spend the rest of the week at my place. We can be together every day, and I’ll be taking care of you.”

You blinked at her, surprised but comforted by her words. The thought of being with her, of having that security, was exactly what you needed. You nodded, leaning into her embrace once more.

“Yeah. I’d like that,” you spoke, feeling a small sense of peace as she kissed your forehead and led you out of the classroom, her hand never leaving yours.

Although, deep down you knew things were about to get really worse. It was just a matter of time.

[ghostgirl-22]

love your writing 🥵

why is there a criminal lack of artrick rimming fics? do you know of any at all? there is so much tongue action too

Okay wait… you’re so right actually

—-

Art always takes a bath on Sunday nights. He spends an hour in the bathroom playing music lounging in the bathtub. When he gets out his skin is flushed and his fingers are pruny and he’s drying his blonde curls with towel while bending over barely covered to pick out his clothes. It’s so fucking distracting it’s a wonder Patrick ever gets any homework done.

This particular Sunday they don’t have school or even practice the next day. It’s Veterans Day or Memorial Day or whichever one’s in November…he always gets confused. And Art still bent in half over his dresser isn’t helping matters.

Patrick sighs. “Hey c’mere,” he says pushing his notebook to the side, fuck it, his English teacher thinks he has ADD anyway.

Art stands up and looks at him. “Do you have my Ramones t shirt still?”

“Probably. Come here.”

“Did you ever wash it?” Art demands walking to where he’s sitting at his desk.

“Probably not. Hey so there’s this thing…this kiss…I want to try it with Madison but I’m scared I’m not gonna be good at it.” Patrick says carefully.

Art nods his head all seriously like he’s just been handed a fun homework assignment, his eyes light up and he licks his lips. Patrick knows he’s probably more intrigued by the idea that it’s something new and Patrick’s admitting he’s not good at it.

“Can we…you know… try it first?”

“Yeah sure,” Art says. It’s Sunday but it’s not a normal Sunday.

“Okay, can we do it now?”

Art looks over at his clothes folded on the bed. He’s so meticulous and neat. But Patrick is an animal and his favorite project is finding new ways to make a mess out of him.

“It’s gonna take like five minutes,” Patrick says, standing up and pulling him towards his own bed. “Can I kiss you?”

Art nods his head. “Okay…yeah sure.” He says allowing himself to be led with reluctant curiosity.

They approach the foot of his bed and Patrick walks behind him. ”Like this…” he says wrapping his arms around Arts firm waist from behind. He presses himself against the swell off his ass and watches Art swallow as he leans in. Art closes his eyes and pouts his lips. Patrick can’t resist… he gives him a peck on the lips and then sinks to his knees behind him.

He eases the towel up Arts thighs.

“Patrick, what are you—” Art says anxiously attempting to turn around.

“Shh. Stay still. Five minutes.”

“I thought you said you wanted to kiss—”

“Yeah a kiss, it’s a little kiss. Can you relax?” Patrick says distractedly looking over Art's bottom. He feels himself getting hard. Art has the perfect ass. Patrick’s missed more than a few shots on the court because of it. He’s spent hours and hours touching himself thinking about pressing his cock inside it.

He kisses one cheek and Art takes a breath. “Patrick you can’t…” He whispers.

“I know,” Patrick sighs and kisses him again and then gently spreads him apart and licks at the perfect pink pucker right in the center. He teases his tongue along the outside…kissing him slowly. It feels better than he imagined.

Art makes a strangled sound and tries to pull away but Patrick follows him. “Please, please lemme kiss you, one kiss, one filthy kiss.” He begs as Art climbs on the bed.

Art whines, “Patrick please— I—I’m gonna—“ his voice is pitched entirely different and his cock is full already, he’s even started dripping. And that’s when Patrick realizes this is a thing.

“It’s okay,” Patrick breathes trying to reconcile this. “It’s okay if you—” he’s not sure what he’s saying anymore. His heads gone fuzzy, his heartbeat’s in his ears drowning out the low volume of the classic rock station playing on the clock radio. Patrick gets behind Art on the bed and starts again, first slowly, then recklessly, pushing his tongue in and out. Licking and sucking like it might go away if he doesn’t get to it fast enough.

“Oh my fucking god,” Art cries. He’s gripping the sheets, knuckles white, helpless little sounds spilling from his lips. He starts shivering, whining, moaning like the girls do on the choppy videos they find on the internet late at night before deleting their search history.

Patrick’s gripping his waist, holding him tight so he can’t leave again. Probably too tight but he’s so fucking lost he’s barely aware of it till Art starts coming. Messy and wet all over Patrick’s bed sheets.

Patrick makes himself stop and licks his lips, wiping his mouth with his wrist. “God you’re so… fucking… sensitive,” Patrick gasps and Art just groans, collapsing on the bed.

Patrick doesn’t need much to bring himself over the edge. Just Art splayed on the bed in front of him all apart, flushed beautifully, breathing heavy, towel barely covering him, jizz still dripping down between thighs. He’s probably ruined this forever because he’s always gonna be thinking of Art. How he looks, how he sounds, how he feels, how he tastes. Patrick loses it all over him, spilling on his stomach, adding to the mess between his legs.

“Fuck,” Patrick breathes.

Art shivers. “You’re so—“ he pushes himself up on his elbows, “Now I have to get in the shower again.”

Patrick huffs a laugh. “I have to change my sheets.” He sighs and dips his finger tip into the pool of come on Arts thighs and tastes it.

“You’re so gross,” Art whispers and he bites his lip.

“And you love it,” Patrick points out.

Arts blushing and he flops back on the bed and covers his face with his arms. “If my mom ever found out I let you…”

“Well I’m certainly not gonna tell her.”

“Yeah but… but now I’ll know and you’ll know and I’m not gonna be able to…” he rubs his eyes and takes a deep breath. “It’s so…dirty.”

“Relax. Go shower again and it’ll all go away… like I never even did it I promise.”

“I really hate you,” Art says and Patrick grins at him.

“Yeah I know, I love you too.”

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Kinktober Day 7: Phone sex with Felix

Trigger warnings: n/a

Content warnings: names (baby, baby girl, princess, sweetheart, dirty girl, pretty girl), guided/mutual masturbation, dirty talk, mc chokes herself for lix, they exchange nudes?, really just pushing gamer!lix honestly like this whole thing is entirely self-indulgent.

Summary: After meeting a sweet guy while gaming, you both finally work up the courage to let the conversation shift to a more intimate topic

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: hi all 🥰 after much consideration, i’ve decided to repost my kinktober 2022 stories. i had a great time writing these a couple years ago and want to share them again now that it’s been a while and i’ve had time to fall in love with them again. i hope you all enjoy! and by all means, feel free to send a message or comment here if you’d like to be part of the new tag list!

Tags: @bahng-chrizz

Smut below the cut

mikasaswife: happy seven months of having me in your life 💁🏻‍♀️

✨lixie✨ is online

✨lixie✨ is typing…

✨lixie✨: you said that last month, dork 😆

✨lixie✨ is typing…

✨lixie✨: i’ve been keeping track of it too 🙊 wanna play for a bit? i’m off today so i’ve got all the time in the world 😝

mikasaswife: ofc! lemme grab something rq and i’ll hop on 🥰

✨lixie✨ is typing…

✨lixie✨: hah cute

You didn’t see his message until you returned and your cheeks went a soft pink. You’d met seven months ago over Rocket League and grew close pretty quickly. You followed each other on various social media platforms and you learned he lived in Australia, which was disheartening considering you were on the other side of the world.

Within about three weeks, he started subtly flirting with you, telling you how good you looked in your latest Instagram post and acting surprised that you were single when you got on the topic of sexuality and your dating history. It was always little remarks and you always welcomed it, oftentimes giving him the same energy, but you weren’t sure how to address your feelings with him.

mikasaswife: not as cute as you but ok

✨lixie✨ is typing…

✨lixie✨: lies but ok 🥴

✨lixie✨ is typing…

✨lixie✨: i’m calling now 😌

You accepted the call as soon as it came in, already on the home screen and waiting for him to join. “Hey cutie.” As soon as you heard his deep voice, you smiled softly. “How was your day?”

“It was good except for that coworker I told you about a few weeks ago. How’d you sleep?” You hoped he’d just answer the question instead of trying to discuss what happened but you weren’t that lucky.

“I slept fine. You should really report him, y/n.” His voice was laced with concern and you sighed softly.

“I can’t. You know I work in a male-dominated field, that’ll just paint a target on my back.” You shook your head. “Plus it was online, they probably can’t even do anything about it. It’s fine, Lix.”

“It’s far from fine if you’re still having issues with him three weeks later.” He pointed out bluntly. “But I understand you don’t wanna talk about it so I’ll leave it alone.”

“Thank you.” A comfortable silence settled between you as you prepared for your first match until he finally spoke.

“Hey, I’m sorry if I made you upset.” Okay, maybe the silence was only comfortable for you.

“I’m not upset, I promise.” You smiled as you spoke, hoping it carried over in your voice. “I can’t be mad at you even if I wanted to be.”

“Is that so?” He sounded like he believed you. You could imagine the smile he was wearing right now and your heart fluttered.

“Mhm. I’ve tried.” You hummed as the game started. He got the jump on the ball and the battle began. It didn’t take long for your opponents to snag the ball and Felix went after them.

“You’ve tried to be mad at me?”

“Well it’s not fair how perfect you are.” You shrugged, assisting him as he made a play that sent the ball well over halfway down the field. You watched as he scored the first goal and grinned.

“I’m not perfect.” He chuckled softly, quietly cheering over his victory a moment later. The sound sent a delicious chill down your spine as your mind raced with inappropriate thoughts. “Now go steal the ball, princess.”

You wanted to protest but the name surprised you and you simply complied, racing towards the center of the field. Your opponents got the jump but after a few seconds of chasing, Felix came to your rescue and you ran the ball to the goal, scoring a second time. The game was halfway over by then. “Atta girl!”

You bit your lip at the praise, trying to suppress a smile. It was ridiculous how he was getting under your skin. By the end of the game, you were a mess. You had a massive crush and it was times like these that made it painfully obvious to anyone with two brain cells to rub together that you were really into Felix.

You were back on the home page when you decided to bug him a little. “So…’princess’ huh?”

“You seem like the princess type.” He hummed in response, not backing down like you’d anticipated. “I noticed you didn’t argue back when I said it, did you like it that much?” He teased, his tone dripping with playfulness. Now was your chance.

“Maybe I did.” You tried your hardest to sound nonchalant but you weren’t sure it was very effective.

“Just maybe? I guess I’ll have to try harder then.”

“I guess so.” You slumped in your seat as you listened to his breathing on the other end of the call.

“Can I be honest with you?” You felt anxiety settle in your belly at the thought of him telling you he was only messing around but assured him he could confide in you, not expecting what he said next. “I haven’t explicitly said it, I’ve only made cheeky comments here and there but…I really like you and I’ve been trying to keep this PG for months but I want you and I feel like I’m gonna fall to pieces if I don’t make a move.”

Your stomach and heart flipped simultaneously at his confession as your breath hitched. The silence was long and awkward but finally you found your voice. “You’re not teasing me are you?”

“One hundred percent God's honest truth. I can’t seem to get you out of my mind and right now I’m thinking of some less-than-innocent things.” You weren’t sure how it was possible for his voice to sound any deeper, but it did and it went straight to your pussy.

“Lixie…” You heard his breath hitch at the name and your imagination began to run wild. He’d look so pretty with his head thrown back, right on the edge from just your hands... “I don’t think it’s any secret that I feel the same way, that I’m thinking about the same things, but…how are we supposed to navigate this?”

“I’ll come visit you or get you here somehow. I’ll figure it out, sweetheart, because I feel like I’ll go insane if I don't have you in my arms. But why don’t we just enjoy each other for now?” His voice was warm and inviting and you couldn’t bring yourself to say no to him. You didn’t want to.

“Yeah okay…” You bit your lip and shifted in your seat, stifling a sigh when the seam of your jeans pulled taught across your already-aching cunt. “Can we? I want you too…”

“I’d be an idiot to turn you down.” You could hear his smile in his voice before his tone changed to one of more concern. “If you feel uncomfortable at any point, please tell me, okay?”

“I will, Lix.” You assured him and heard him shift in his seat.

“I like when you use nicknames instead of my full name.” He sighed. “Is it okay if I do the same?” You hummed an affirmation and he continued. “Tell me what you’re wearing, baby.”

“I’m in jeans and that purple crop top you like so much.”

“Can you send me a picture?” He would’ve asked you to turn your camera on for a video chat but he wanted to be able to look back at this for a while. You didn’t hesitate to grab your phone and take a picture on Snapchat, posing so your face wasn’t in the frame and your fingers loosely curled around the spaghetti strap of your crop top. You giggled softly as he cursed softly and saved the photo in the chat before speaking again. “So pretty…anything underneath?”

“Just a lacy black thong, no bra.” You offered up quietly and listened as he took a sharp inhale, placing your phone back on the desk.

“You’ll have to show me sometime, baby. That sounds hot as fuck.” He groaned softly and you shuddered, shifting in your seat again so your jeans hit just the right spot. “Why don’t you pull your top up and give your tits a little squeeze for me, hmm?”

You did as he asked, sliding your hands up your torso and under your shirt. You lifted it, bunching it below your chin, and let out a hum of contentment as you cupped your breasts and gently squeezed them. You then wet your middle fingers and teased your nipples, gasping at the sensation. “How’s it feel, princess?”

“Feels good, Lixie.” You sighed, letting your head rest against the back of the chair. “Wish it was you though. It’d be so much better if it was your mouth on my skin instead of my hands…”

“It would…” He agreed. “I’ll make it happen one way or another, baby girl, don’t worry.” You whined softly at the name and he chuckled. “You like that name?” You nodded but remembered he couldn’t see you so you offered a pathetic ‘mhm’ and he laughed again, deep and rich, drawing another sound from you. “Do you wanna take off those jeans, baby girl?”

You didn’t bother to respond, immediately standing up and taking your pants off. You opened Snapchat again and set the camera to record, making sure your face was out of frame as you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your thong. You swiveled your hips teasingly, pretending to take your panties off before turning around. You showed off your ass, jiggling your cheeks with your hands, and then pulled your top off before cutting off the camera.

“Baby? You still with me?”

“I am. I’m with you, Lixie.” He groaned at the name as you quickly cut the end of the video so it didn’t catch you turning around and hit send as you sat back down. You didn’t say anything else as you waited for him to open your message. You heard his phone buzz on his desk and bit your lip as you listened, watching the message change from ‘sent’ to ‘opened’.

He inhaled sharply through his nose then cursed under his breath. “Jesus, y/n, you’re killing me. Can I save this?”

“You can.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you got the notification and giggled softly. You didn’t expect him to send anything back but you were pleasantly surprised when he sent a photo of his tented gray sweats, captioned ‘this is your fault, princess’. After a beat of silence, during which you admired his bulge and his hand resting on his thigh, you spoke again. “Can I save this?”

“You can.” You immediately hit save and leaned back in your chair, placing your phone back on your desk. “I want you to run your hands down your body and tease your thighs, baby girl. Tell me how it feels, what exactly you’re doing.”

You wasted no time in running your hands down your torso before allowing your fingertips to graze along the insides of your thighs. You gasped at the sensation and lightly dragged your nails over the skin there. “Feels good…’m just barely touching my thighs, lightly scratching myself and imagining it’s your hands instead.”

You were starting to sound worked up and by this point, he was so hard it hurt. “Tell me more. Do you wanna touch yourself?”

“I do…can I?”

“You don’t need my permission, baby. Go ahead and touch yourself. Tell me all about it.”

“Are you?” You asked quietly as you slipped a hand into your panties. “Can you tell me what you’re doing too?”

“I am.” He confirmed, taking a stilted breath. “I’m just touching myself through my sweatpants right now, listening to your pretty sounds. I’m so fucking hard right now…”

His soft groan made you impossibly wetter and you whimpered as you finally ghosted your middle finger over your clit. “Good…I can’t be the only one this turned on.”

“And just how turned on are you?” His voice was a low rumble in your ears and you clenched around nothing as your free hand adjusted your headset.

“I’m fucking dripping, Lixie.” You whined, a small pout forming on your lips as you dipped a finger into your wetness. You dragged your arousal up to your clit and sighed at the sensation. “God I wish you were here right now, I just know your hands would feel so good…”

“Mm what about my mouth? I could eat you out forever if you’d let me.” You whimpered at the thought and stood abruptly, shoving your panties down your legs and dropping them with your jeans. You settled back in and draped your legs over the armrests of your gaming chair, immediately slipping your hand back between your legs. “Hey baby?” You hummed in response as your fingers circled your clit before teasing at your entrance. “Can you moan my name? I’m dying to hear it.”

You let your eyes slip shut and slid two fingers in your dripping cunt, a small moan tumbling from your lips as your palm ground against your clit while you stretched yourself open. You allowed yourself to imagine him knelt between your legs, fingers plunged deep inside you, and called out his name as you clenched at the thought. “Fuck, Felix, please…” Just as you moaned for him, your phone buzzed. You grabbed it and opened the Snapchat video he sent you, biting your lip when you saw the tip of his cock peeking out from his waistband, already drooling on his belly as his thumb brushed back and forth across his sweats. “Oh- can I save it?”

“Of course, princess.” You quickly saved it and bit your lip as you contemplated what you were about to ask. Before you could speak though, he beat you to it. “Baby…can we turn our cameras on? We don’t have to but I’d certainly like to see you.”

“I was about to ask the same thing…” As soon as the words left your lips, he switched his camera on and you were met with the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen. He was reclined in his gaming chair, shirtless and with his dick out. You wanted to reach through the screen the second you saw him. He settled back and waited for you to turn your camera on, wrapping his hand around his thick shaft as you tried to force your eyes away long enough to complete the task at hand. “You’re so fucking pretty, Lixie…” You whispered as you turned your camera on.

You saw his cock twitch in his hand and you weren’t sure if it was because of what you said or because of the way you presented yourself to him. Your LED lights paired with a lamp in the corner made you glow and your pussy glistened in the purple lighting. “Holy shit, baby girl…” His voice was strained as gave his cock a single tug before releasing it. “God I want a taste…can you tell me how you taste, princess?”

You eagerly stuffed your messy fingers in your mouth and sucked them clean with a moan, your free hand kneading your breasts. “So fucking sweet. It’s so good, Lix.” You watched as he began to slowly work his dick, resting his head back against his chair and peeking out at you.

“I’m gonna get you out here so I can taste you for myself, I swear.” He let out a moan in a pitch you weren’t expecting as he jerked off and your pussy clenched. “Bury my head between your legs for hours and make you shake…”

“Please do.” You slid your fingers back inside yourself and curled them, searching for your g-spot. You gasped when you found it and called his name as if it was him touching you. You heard his breathing grow ragged as he watched you, both of you barreling towards the edge as you fingered yourself.

The image of him fucking his hand would forever be burned into your mind and you couldn’t even pretend to be mad about it. He was turned on by you. You were the reason he was touching himself. You were the reason he called out to you and warned you of his impending orgasm. “Gonna fuckin’ cum, princess-”

“Do it. Show me how gorgeous you look when you let go, Lixie.” You begged, eyes locked on the image of his angry red cock on your screen. Your words sent him spiraling and you watched as his cum landed all over his belly and hand, more desperate moans falling from his lips.

A lazy smile spread across his face as his moan turned into a chuckle. “Your turn, sweetheart.” He teased, obliging you when you asked him to taste himself. “It’s good but I’m willing to bet it’d be a thousand percent better mixed with yours. Maybe I’ll cum inside and eat it out of your pretty pussy.” You made a pathetic sound and he smirked. “You like that idea?” You nodded and gasped when you gently pinched your nipple.

“Fucking love it…” You nodded, your free hand moving to your throat. “I’m so fucking close, oh my god-” You keened, carefully restricting blood flow as you choked yourself.

“Yeah? My dirty girl gonna cum for me?” The name was the last straw and you cried out an affirmation as your legs clamped shut around your hand, liquid bliss filling your veins as you came undone. “Look how pretty you are when you cum…I can’t wait to get you like this by my own hands, princess.”

He coached you through your orgasm and listened as you repeated his name over and over, trying his damndest not to get hard again. After a couple minutes, your breathing began to even out and he sat up properly in his chair, grabbing a couple tissues to clean up with. “You did such a good job, pretty girl.” He cooed and you smiled softly. “Why don’t you clean yourself up and if you’re feeling up to it we can play another round or watch something together? Or if you’d rather go to sleep we can hang up and-”

“I do wanna sleep but if you hang up on Discord it better be to call me back on Snapchat and talk with me until I nod off.” You teased as you righted yourself in your chair. “Your voice is so warm and comforting. It’s nice to fall asleep to…” You added and he smiled softly at you, eyes full of adoration.

“Okay, I’ll call you there. Go get cleaned up and let me know when you’re ready.” You nodded and muttered a soft ‘goodbye’ before he ended the call.

✨lixie✨ is offline

<-d-6 | d-8->

[theworldofotps]

Daddy's Biggest Fan (Drabble)

Pairing: Hook x Reader Word Count: 574 Description: Y/n takes their child to see Hook wrestle for the first time

Requested by: @sunrise28sblog I loved writing this and really hoped you enjoy it. ________ Tag list: @omg-im-such-a-masochist​ @melissahausen​ @new-zealand-chic @writtingrose​ @99hook @madhatterbri @sjwrites22​ @sassymox @mrsacklesevansmgk​ @xladyxfatex​ @adamcolesbaybay @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​ @demonqueen29​ @itsicantbelievethis666​ @lilred91​ @rebellious-desires​ @claymorexpunisher @letsgivethisonemoreshot @ava-valerie @shortyiceheart @serpantscorpio8497​ @thatpanpal​ @thatnerdwriter @wrestlersownmyheart​ @vebner37 @auburnwrites​ @aews-four-pillars @seeingstarks​ @whenimakeitshine1234 @legit9thlunaticwarrior​ @blaquekitty​ @ironshamelessyouth​ @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin​ @ripleyswhore @moonrosekk @xbreezymeadowsx @alyyaana  @elevennbloom @melblacc @alliwant456  @mcreignsera  If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. Hook Taglist: @wickedval __________

Y/n smiled as she walked slowly down the hallway her hand gently holding that of her three year old son, they made their way through the backstage area. “Daddy?” The small boy called out craning his neck to try and see which wasn’t easy given he was so small. Y/n scoops him up so he could see better as they made their way in the direction of Tyler’s locker room. “Don’t worry my love we’ll find him we just have a few more turns and we’ll be there.” Pressing a kiss to his cheek they walked a little longer and y/n stops gently setting her son on the ground.

“Look who it is bubs.” She pointed up the hallway smiling when her son’s eyes landed on the man, he loved more than anyone apart from her.

“Daddy!” His squeal caused heads to turn light chuckles hitting her ears as Tyler quickly turned around and gasped bending down. Y/n let their son’s hand go watching as he quickly toddled down the hallway towards his dad.

“Hey buddy you excited to see daddy wrestle for the first time?”| Tyler asked holding his son close smiling into a face so similar to his own chuckling as the small boy cheered nodding his head and hugging him. Y/n walked over joining them and smiled when Tyler wrapped an arm around her waist kissing her softly. “Hello gorgeous I thought you two were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago?” “Sorry babe we ran into your dad, and you know he can’t resist spending a few minutes with his grandson.” Y/n smiled listening as their son excitedly chattered away to Tyler about well she couldn’t really understand what but they both seemed to be having fun. Making your way into the locker room you sat down on the couch. “And you’ve already seen daddy’s title but I’m defending it tonight.”

Pulling your phone out you snap a couple pictures of them and a small video, the video would be something for yourselves. Despite sharing some things Tyler was still a private person when it came to his life and your child.

“Are you guys going to be ringside or stay in the gorilla?”

“I figured the gorilla since he’s still so little and I don’t want the crowd to be overwhelming for him. But uncle Dan said that he had a nice quiet spot all set up for us.”

Tyler smiled nodding his head as he sat down beside his fiancée and their son crawled over onto her lap, he’d been dreaming of this day for the last three years and it was finally here. He couldn’t want to see what his son thought of seeing daddy wrestle in real time. When a knock sounded on the door the trio made their way from the room making their way to the gorilla. “Okay I have to go out now, but I’ll be back when I’m finished.” He kissed the small boy’s head then stood up and kissed y/n with a soft smile as he moved the hair out of his eyes.

“You’re going to do great we’ll be here when you’re finished.”

“Thank you I’ll see you in a few I love you both.”

“We love you too.”

“Love you daddy.” Tyler’s smile widened more as he ruffled his son’s hair, and his music began sending them both a wink he walked out feeling on top of the world.

[silverinkbottle]

Kinktober Day 1: Lingerie

The idea of lingerie made out of pearls, wouldn't leave my head..and this..was the result. This is my first time participating in Kinktober, so I am both scared and excited to give it a shot with writing 31 days' worth of fic. Some may just be straight one-shots, but who knows!

So, uhhh feel free to follow along, drop suggestions and all that. If you want to be tagged in future things, lemme know!

Bit of a spoiler for Day 2: Masturbation with a certain desert crime lord. I may have spent too much time thinking about the uses of rings.. Okay..on to the fic itself! Pairing: Shanks X Fem!Reader

Reader is the resident bookkeeper for the Red Haired Pirates..and has been Shank's lover for the past few years. Problem is with being with someone for long, it gets difficult to think of ways to surprise them.

Content Warning: Clitoral Orgasm, hair-pulling..I never really know what to warn for. This is relatively 'tame' I suppose. Uhhh perhaps a bit fluffy for the content. Word count: 1.8K (Its so short by my normal standards, I will up the word content as we go on) Special shout out to @seventeencryinghorses-blog for the Shanks request!

You didn’t do surprises. It wasn’t because you didn’t enjoy the time and effort it took to keep things quiet, but the unfortunate fact that Shanks managed to ‘discover’ them early every single time. Even when you kept things under lock and key in your own private office on the Red Force, the curious man managed to sneak a glance at your plans. It was maddening beyond words as he would just smile that sincere smile, press a kiss to your temple, and leave you to stew in your fury. It wasn’t fair like your lover had a sixth sense in ruining your fun.

Until tonight, you would win the battle this time or go down in flames trying. Now, if only you could keep an aloof attitude as the gradual chaos of the bar began to escalate around you. You none too discreetly passed over a large purse of berri to the bar’s owner as you both watched a trio of beer glasses shatter from an errant fist pounding the table over a hand of cards.

“Just..let me know the damage in the morning..” You muttered apologetically as the barkeep nodded stiffly before shoving the purse into his apron. Evidently, you had failed to keep that calm aura as a single arm curled around your waist, kissing gently on the side of your neck. A faint hum of disapproval skittered over your skin when the sour expression on your face didn’t budge. Every single moment the crew decided to up the ante, you could all but imagine the clinking of berri trickling down the drain. The tragic fate of a bookkeeper on a pirate crew meant that someone had to be fiscally responsible, or else it would be hardtack and gruel for months.

“Come on, it was a big score. Can you blame them for wanting to blow off a bit of steam..” Shanks grumbled as you tried to resist the urge to fidget when his hand cheekily squeezed your thigh. Once in a teasing manner and the second in a far more inquisitive way as your right leg shifted restlessly. The faintest jingle of the golden string around your ankle as the light overhead caught the reflection of the small trio of rubies between the golden beads. The bait worked like a charm as Shank’s focus went from your legs down to your feet. Thin sandals strapped to them, plain in comparison to the little anklet.

“That’s new..”

“Uh-huh.” You deadpanned as you saw your red-headed lover try to connect the missing pieces of some unseen puzzle. His dark eyes flickered from your ankle to your upper legs before leaning close to you within kissing distance as you took advantage to chastely press his lips to yours. The twitch of his face gave away a content smile that graced his features as you idly tapped your nails against his left cheek.

“So, is there anything else that is new to you?” Shanks asked in a singsong tone, and you rolled your eyes at his impatience. It was obvious you had something up your sleeve, and now he was going to go about prodding it with a verbal stick until he sprung the trap early.

“Well, if you think the crew can be without their brave leader for the rest of the evening, I can-”

“Done. Beckman, try to not let the lads get too out of control.” Shanks barked over his shoulder to his second mate, who gave a twitch of his cigarette in response to the order. You were quickly dragged out of the bar by your hand as you tried to stifle your laughter with little success. 

“Shanks, this isn’t the-ah” 

Your protest turned into a pitched whimper as Shanks took full advantage of the solid door behind you. The hot press of his lips against your throat was doing wonders for making you lose your train of thought. Another whine spilled from your lips when his knee pressed between your legs in a silent request for you to spread them apart. Now, his hand was dangerously close to the edge of your pants as your little noises seemed to be spurring his desire despite your best efforts.

“Shanks, this isn’t the surprise..” You uttered in a single rush of words before your own lust betrayed you. Shit, shit, you could all but feel the heat cross your face as his darkened gaze pierced through you. The light brush of his face against your jaw as he pressed the lightest of kisses to it, trying to coax further out of you as you seemed to fumble with your following words.

“Just..turn around..and look at the floor..” You asked weakly

“Turn around, and you bring me to your office to clean up a bit of spilled papers,” Shanks whined as he did as he was asked, and before him was a small collection of paperwork. A few lines were written here and there, nothing too important as you had been very selective in choosing. 

“Seems like I lost all the strength in my hands. I needed my strong and durable Captain to do it for me. I’ll make it worth your while,” you purred as you lightly shoved him forward with a smile. At least he was willing to play along. He sighed deeply like a child asked to do a simple chore, but he still began the tedious task of shuffling the paperwork about on the floor.

Your steps were light and precise as you perched on the edge of your desk, watching him work. His eyes occasionally glanced up at you as you clicked your tongue, silently requesting him to focus on the task. 

“It’s a surprise, Shanks, you can’t just-” You grumbled.

“Fine, I’ll ignore that the top button of your blouse is undone for your sake. But you can’t expect me to ignore-fuck, what are you-” 

Shank’s words turned into a low hiss of surprise as you flashed him a bright grin; now, this was a reaction you had hoped for. Your nails clicked against the three remaining buttons as the edge of your ‘surprise’ peaked out from behind the white fabric. Your breasts nestled between three strings of pearls, giving some coverage but not enough to hide their lower swell. The light drag of the pearl’s cool surface against your nipples made your breath hitch for a split second as you could see Shank swallow quickly in response.

You were grateful that you had the foresight to start a small fire before the evening’s event went down. It was cozy in the room despite the ‘clothing’ that covered your upper torso. The white blouse slid off your shoulders with ease as you finished undoing the last button. You tilted your head to the side in a silent question as the string of pearls rubbed against one another at the movement.

“Surprised?” You teased as Shanks, speechless for the first time since you met, could only manage a single nod before hastily dropping the papers in his hand to quickly bury his face between your breasts with an apologetic muttering as you let out a slight squeal of surprise. 

“Don’t break it, I spent time choosing each one..” You protested weakly as his teeth grazed over the top section of pearls, contemplating whether he should bite down. Thankfully, he did manage to have some restraint as he settled for something else entirely. His hand cupped your left breast, and you could hear his muffled curses at the sight before his tongue snaked inside the material to tease at your peaked nipple. Now it was your turn to muffle noises as your hands sank into his scalp, urging him forward with harsher hair tugs.

“There’s more if you. Shanks!” 

Your words edged on scolding as the idea of ‘more’ seemed to snap the last bit of patience in the pirate. He wordlessly but gently pushed you down onto the desk, your back flat against it as he effortlessly removed the belt from around your waist. However, he paused to lean over your prone form to give you a gentle kiss that made your heart do a series of flips. His roguish grin dampened the aura of romance as his pointer finger dipped underneath the single copper button holding the pants in place.

“Well, doesn’t the pirate want to see more treasure..” You hummed

“I’m already looking at it..” Shanks retorted as you girlishly giggled at the line with a roll of your eyes. He quickly slid the trousers off, following the tantalizing sound of his belt and clothing joining the mess on the floor. 

“Fuck, how did you manage-” Shanks hissed as his hand slid over the curve of your hip. Fingers lightly pulling at the duo of pearl strings taunt against your hip bone, admiring the cold sheen against your warm skin. The sensation of rough fingertips brushing over your form sent goosebumps rippling down you as Shanks’s inspection continued, the tip of his erect cock twitching with each new inquisitive touch.

“Now this. I definitely don’t want to break.” Shanks groaned as your legs spread a bit further to coax him in closer. You knew you were dripping with want as the off-white color pooled with a faint elasticity around the clutch of pearls positioned over your center before dangling downward to provide some concealment of your sex. 

“There’s a tie on my right hip-oh gods, don’t-” 

Your warning was too late as his fingers slid underneath the clutch of pearls, dragging his entire palm over your sex to smear your arousal over your wanting clit. It was all you could do with a clumsy hand to find the troublesome tie yourself as his fingers began to set a rigorous pace. Teasing the bundle of nerves with a hint of a smirk yo,u could feel your body twitch this way and that as your arousal was stoked. 

“Faster, please. Just like that!” You panted with a pitch as you could feel the heat in your stomach begin to turn all the hotter as you tried to brace yourself by your elbows. Your panting filled the room as you tried to fight off the waves of pleasure for a few moments more before sinking into the blissful abyss. Your eyes fluttered with the faintest bit of acknowledgment as Shanks pressed the kisses in between the valley of your breasts, you could feel the high of your orgasm curl around you like a warm blanket.

“So, were you surprised?” You muttered as Shank’s low chuckle was all you needed to hear. 

Finally, you got your victory.

At least, until you realized defeat wasn’t too horrible as you felt the hardened press of his cock against your inner thigh, waiting for the last flicker of pleasure to leave you before starting it anew.

[hxney-lemcn]

HI I SAW THE 2K EVENT AND HAD TO REQUEST THIS AHDHAHDW

may i request ruggie with 🌹⚔️👀😳🍯? heehee

a/n: what is up with me and writing basically an entire fic for characters I don't feel confident in? also, I keep giving characters freckles, I'm not sorry.

tw: none.

wc: 0.7k

2k follower event | master list

Annoying. That was the best adjective to describe Ruggie. how he always found a way to tease you, that stupid laugh, stupid freckles, his pretty eyes... It was like getting on your nerves was his hobby with how good he was at it. Just like now, with how Ruggie stole the last desert that you had been craving all day. Your eye twitched, glaring at the smug hyena. 

“What are you staring at?” Ruggie asked with a sly grin. “Somethin’ on my face?” 

He knows. He has to know. Why else was he looking so smug? Why did he always have to make himself a problem, you were seriously going to tear your hair out. Okay, so maybe you were having a bit of a bad day and were taking your internal frustrations out on the wrong person, but you really, really wanted that desert. 

“Shut up,” You grumbled in reply, walking out of line and taking your lunch elsewhere. You stewed in your anger, taking bites out of your food and scowling. Just a few more hours, that’s all you had left before you could shut yourself in your room and destress. Of course, Ruggie always seemed to try and make your day worse, inviting himself over and sitting right next to you. You glowered at him, just wanting some time alone, but of course, Ruggie couldn’t seem to take the hint.

On the other hand, Ruggie had noticed you eyeing the desert after he grabbed it. And as he teased you, ears twitching in anticipation of your response, his smile fell. Instead of bickering back, you shoved him off, walking away in a huff. Something was clearly wrong, and in his way of making peace, he had decided to give you some of the desert. He had to admit, he found himself charmed by your wit, and found himself excited to banter with you. Over time, he found himself liking you a bit too much for his own good. For someone like him, hope was a dangerous thing, but he found his heart skipping a beat in your presence anyways.

Lifting the sweet treat, Ruggie broke a piece off and lifted it up to your lips. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, eyes going from the treat to Ruggie’s light blue eyes. You watched him warily, unsure if this was some prank, but he stood firm, even inching the piece to hit your lips. Reluctantly (and a bit flustered), you took the bait, averting your eyes and taking the bite. That was how you spent the rest of your lunch, Ruggie feeding you bits of the desert while he ate some as well. 

“You got a little somethin’,” Ruggie chuckled, pointing to the corner of his lip. Mirroring where his hand was, you rubbed at the spot, but grew frustrated when he confirmed you hadn’t got it yet. “Here, lemme just,” Reaching over, he gently swiped at some crumbs, your stupid traitorous heart thumping like crazy. It felt like time came to a pause, your faces close, close enough for you to be able to count each individual freckle that littered his nose and cheeks, to see the slight fang that peaked through his lips as he grinned…

“Are we about to kiss right now?” 

Curse your blabbermouth. Your cheeks warmed as Ruggie’s eyes widened in surprise, his cheeks tinted a rosy pink. Chuckling into his hand, he tried to regain his composure, but your question had rattled him, that bloom of hope expanding.

“Are you serious?” Ruggie questioned back, tail wagging without his permission. 

“I-I…” You stuttered, so many feelings bubbling up. Did you…this entire time…actually like Ruggie? Romantically? Of course, why else would you try to deny how attractive you found him, looking forward to the next time you’d see him, wondering if he saw you the same? Your symptoms were clearly that of a crush, no wonder your friends would snicker when you said you hated Ruggie. 

Trying to distract yourself from all the weird, fuzzy feelings, you pulled Ruggie in by the front of his shirt for a kiss. It was awkward and clumsy, but you didn’t mind, and neither did Ruggie as he pulled you closer. He tasted sweet, just like the desert you both shared, and it felt like every nerve was alight as he gently held your face. As you pulled away, all your anger and warm feelings melded into an anxious mess.

“What are we?” 

Nuzzling your nose with his own, Ruggie grinned, “How would you like the honor to be my partner?”

Pulling away, you rolled your eyes and swatted his arm, “If anything you’re the lucky one.”

Ruggie couldn’t help but agree.