#only boo moodboard

[chinzhillas]

goodbye, my dear moo. i'll miss you so much ❤️

[smileysvech]

Black Harley Davidson’s, sugar and cinnamon

Pick up the pieces of my heart, fall in love again

Sugar & Cinnamon – LANY

a beautiful blur moodboard series masterlist

this one is for the sugar to my boo @pyotrkochetkov 🤧❤️‍🔥

tagging: @hoesforthecanes @comphy-and-cozy @senditcolton @ahoist @laurenairay @mendeshoney @lovelyteuvo

[the-blind-geisha]

WIP Wednesday Gijinka! King Boo / Reader

The way he breathed such a question, it prompted her heart to race wildly, knowing all too well what he possibly had in mind.

He leaned forward, his thick tongue caressing against the nook of her neck as a boo like growl rumbled in his throat. “I wish to show you that my words were hardly false. That no matter what, I would still and could easily love you even if behind the same four walls every day.”

Hardly did she doubt him. However, his actions would only speak louder than any words he could utter. At least, that is how the king saw it.

King Boo’s lips curled back, exposing his sharp fangs as he let the tip of them pinch ever gently upon her skin. Shortly after, his blue tongue swept over the area as if to be apologetic for the playful bite he took.

Her fingers curled into his wavy hair, a breath of a moan escaping her as it felt as though it had been some time since the two were able to enjoy one another’s company as this. Didn't help that the pocket world he created was mostly inhabited by his people. Privacy was indeed a commodity that could rarely be given.

The impressive length of his tongue crawled back into his maw as King Boo gripped her chin with his thumb and index finger. It was a tight and dominating hold that she couldn't escape from.

Not that she cared to try.

Closing the distance between them, the Boo King’s lips touched hers ever sweetly but with a ravenous hunger that couldn't be denied. Even if he rarely thought to endure such precious moments with the one he loved, it didn't mean there wasn't a hunger buried within his body meant only for her.

[seungkw1]

office hours — bsk

♡ pairing: boo seungkwan x afab!reader ♡ theme: college au, nonidol!au ♡ wc: ~6.2k ♡ warnings: swearing, smut, reader is gender neutral but wears a skirt, fingering (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (stay safe y’all), creampie, petnames (f. receiving - baby), fluff at the end if you squint ♡ a/n: this whole thing is a highly self-indulgent fic so if reader is down horrendous for bsk… u know why

‧₊˚✩彡 moodboard by @myhimbomingi ‧₊˚✩彡

You fucking hate Tuesdays. 

There’s nothing actually wrong with your Tuesday schedule - on the contrary it’s probably the best day of the week in terms of lectures and extracurriculars. Your first class of the day, Developmental Psychology, doesn’t start til 11am, so you get to sleep in - always a win in your book. Afterwards you have an hour and a half break, usually spent by eating lunch in the student center and then a visit to the campus library to get some studying done. Then your 2pm Discussion for your Intro to Fiction class, followed by yoga at the gym - and since your work-study job at the Cognitive Research Lab doesn’t have you scheduled for Tuesdays, you get to go home right after. All in all, a pretty laid-back day in your hectic college life.

Except for that stupid 2pm Discussion. 

As a Psychology major you didn’t anticipate having to take any Literature courses, but you needed to fill an elective and Intro to Fiction had a reputation for being a fun, low-stakes course. It also fit conveniently into your Fall Semester schedule, so you signed up. Professor Mendoza turned out to be super nice and never gives any bullshit extra homework, and the assigned books have been surprisingly enjoyable. No, none of that is the problem. 

The problem is the hot TA you’ve inadvertently fallen in love with. 

Your first encounter with Seungkwan had been a bit embarrassing - the first week of the semester you somehow went to the completely wrong building, and even with speed walking you arrived to Discussion about five minutes late. You tried to sneak in quietly but the loud, creaky door hinge had other plans. Twenty-some pairs of eyes turned to stare at the idiot latecomer, but the pair you locked onto were the soft brown ones surrounded by long dark eyelashes, belonging to the blazer-wearing grad student standing at the front of the classroom. 

You would’ve been embarrassed in this situation anyway, but the unexpected eye contact made your stomach drop and your face turn hot. You stood there for a few moments too long, before muttering a feeble “sorry” under your breath as you made your way to the only empty seat in the room - which of course was located at the very front, immediately before the TA. You quickly took your seat and pulled out a notebook (not even the right one, but you were too frazzled to notice). The TA, whose name you missed due to being late, resumed his lecture. You started writing down everything he was saying - definitely not necessary, but you were doing your best to focus without looking up. 

Your face eventually stopped burning up, but this classroom was particularly warm and stuffy. You set down your pen and took your cardigan off, hanging it over the back of the chair. Mindlessly looking up, you look at the TA for the first time since sitting down. He too had discarded his outerwear - the muted brown herringbone blazer now laying aside on the teacher’s desk upon which he was leaning. His dark brown shoes matched his dark pants - which weren’t tight but certainly hugged his thighs nicely, but you tried not to think about that - and he was currently rolling up the sleeves of his medium gray button down - and you definitely tried not to think about that. You put your head back down and focused on your note-taking, transcribing everything without actually processing any of what he said. This was all very strange for you - sure some of your past TAs had been nice looking, but why was this particular one making you this flustered? 

The clock ticked on at an unbearably slow pace. You took your notes and paid no attention, not joining in on the conversation even once. You just have to make it through the hour, you kept telling yourself. But the hour seemed to never end. 

You snap out of it as the TA finally wraps up the class. 

“Don’t forget to read through chapter 5,” he reminds everyone. You realize you don’t even know which book you’re supposed to be reading, but it’s too late to ask now - you’ve looked like enough of a fool today already. Quickly packing your bag, you try to make your escape but as you are heading toward the door the TA calls out to you. Shit.  

“I just need to get your name - for attendance,” he tells you as you turn back around. 

“Oh… yeah,” you reply. You silently curse yourself for how stupid you sound. You tell him your name and he makes note of your attendance in his notes. You try to escape again but not before he sticks his hand out to you. 

“Seungkwan,” he introduces himself. You make the mistake of looking into those big round doe eyes again. He was even more beautiful up close. SHIT. 

You shake his hand, trying to do so as quickly as possible, but he has a very strong grip. 

“Nice to have you in class,” he says warmly. 

“Nicetomeetyoutoo!” you reply, taking your hand back and turning to dart out the door before he can get another word in. 

You don’t look back, so you don’t see how his eyes are glued to you as you hurriedly exit the classroom. 

—

You thought after a few classes you’d get over your dumb little crush on your TA, but four weeks into the semester and it’s only gotten worse. Now that you know where the stupid building is, you always make sure to arrive to Discussion early so you can snag a seat in the very back - as far away from him as you can manage - but this only allows your mind to wander. Watching him from the back of the class, you’ve unintentionally memorized his subtle habits: the way he takes his glasses case out of his bag at the beginning of each class, opening it and wiping the lenses clean with a cloth before placing them on his face with two hands, delicately moving his hair off to the side as not to obscure his vision; the way he leans against the desk, resting his weight on his palms as he listens to the students engage in conversation about the current book; the way he holds his well-worn copy in his left hand when referencing the text, flipping through the dog-eared pages filled with highlights and notes written in ink in the margins, laying the book on the desk pages-down to preserve his place when he goes to write important points on the chalkboard; the way he carefully erases the board as not to create a cloud of dust, wiping his hands together away from his body as not to get chalk on his perfectly pressed clothes; the way he focuses so intently when somebody is speaking, maintaining eye contact and nodding his head slightly, giving them his full attention.

That last one is why you never say a word in that class. You’re pretty sure you would combust on the spot.

Unfortunately, your entire grade for the Discussion portion of the course is based on actually engaging in the discussion - and based on your participation thus far you were right on track for getting an entire zero. I’ll say something next week, you tell yourself - then next week rolls around and you don’t say a damn thing. And repeat. You just hope Seungkwan doesn’t say anything to you. 

But he does. 

You freeze upon hearing your name as you’re gathering your belongings at the end of session. You look up and meet his gaze, doing your best to maintain a relaxed demeanor. It’s only a little eye contact, just chill. 

“Yeah, what’s up?” you respond nonchalantly. He gives you a bit of an inquisitive look, so you add on a polite smile.

“I’ve noticed you haven’t participated at all during discussion so far - you know that’s what I have to grade you on, right?”

“Oh yeah, um- I’ve been… I’ll work on that.”

The look on his face tells you he’s not convinced. “I graded your first essay - you showed exemplary comprehension and your analysis was one of the best ones I’ve read.”

You feel your stomach do a flip. The sudden praise caught you off guard. 

“Oh uh, thank you,” you stammer, trying not to display how flustered you are but undoubtedly failing. 

You make the mistake (again) of making direct eye contact with Seungkwan. It lasts maybe two seconds, but feels like time has slowed; the world has stopped; nothing matters but you and him, standing alone in this room together. You’ve never wanted to impulsively kiss somebody this bad in your life. 

You force yourself back to reality. 

Seungkwan continues. “But, if you’re having some trouble with this particular novel,” he says as he holds up his book, “you can always stop by my office hours with any questions.”

You glance at his copy of Dracula. It’s a standard size paperback, but it looks small in his hand - a hand so strong and defined, yet elegant, fingers long and graceful…

Nope. Not gonna think about that right now. 

“I hold them every Thursday from 3-5pm - in this building, room 430. Top floor - all the way at the end of the hallway.” 

You nod - looking at him without making direct eye contact. “Cool cool. I’ll uh… Thanks, I might take you up on that.”

“Of course,” he replies matter-of-factly. He pauses, then adds with a slight smile, “It is my job after all.” 

Picking up his coat, he heads toward the door, and you follow. He holds the door open for you; as you pass by him you catch the scent of his cologne: woody but fresh, notes of patchouli and bergamot. You utter a soft “Thank you”. He nods chivalrously. 

Exiting the discussion room, he starts heading in the opposite direction as you. “See ya around!” you blurt out suddenly. He pauses - turning over his shoulder, he nods once more at you. “Have a good one,” he responds cordially. Maybe you’re seeing things, but his eyes seem to linger on you for a split second longer than one would expect. 

You watch him walk away for as long as you can get away with without being detected. 

As you make your way to the gym you ruminate over what he told you. Office hours. You didn’t really see a need to go - you weren’t actually having any trouble with the book. And of course office hours are open to all students, but the chance that you might be alone in a room with him again, having a one-on-one conversation…

You try to push the thought aside. You arrive to yoga, prepared to clear your head - but you spend the whole class thinking about Seungkwan. You head home after class, sitting on the bus with your headphones in, blasting your favorite album - but still your mind dwells on your TA. You get home and sit down to continue the novel, reading the next chapter - but you quickly give up. You’re absorbing none of the story, so you’d have to reread it anyway. 

Maybe you will go to office hours after all. 

—

Thursday. You’ve been trying not to think about Seungkwan’s office hours, but of course it’s just the white bear experiment all over again - the harder you tried, the more you ended up thinking about it. Your last class - Statistics - ends at 3:30pm, so you have all day to debate whether to go or not. Damn him for holding them so late in the day. 

Your Stats professor could not be a more uninteresting lecturer if he tried. You spend most of the class stifling your yawns as you do your best to pay attention, to no avail. Finally, the clock hits 3:30 and class is dismissed. You have to make your decision now - so naturally you end up going to the library to procrastinate said decision and mull it over some more. 

After many wasted minutes trying (and failing) to get some homework done, you check the time: 4:19pm. With a sigh you open up your book to leaf through the pages, looking for something you could make up some bullshit question about. Nothing. Mildly peeved, you open your laptop and pull up trusty sparknotes.com. All the discussion questions seem too juvenile, and you’re pretty sure you’d manage to make a fool of yourself if you tried to ask a question you already knew the answer to. 

You decide to abandon your plan to drop by with specific questions and instead just hope and pray there will be other students there so you can simply join in on their conversations. If there aren’t… you’ll just have to figure that out when you get there. 

You make your way to the Literature Studies building, realizing upon your arrival there is no elevator - and your destination is on the top floor. Cursing the building for being old, you trek up the stairs in search of room 430, which - as he mentioned - appears to be at the very end of the hallway. Nearly there, you abruptly decide to backtrack to the restroom you passed to check yourself in the mirror real quick, which turns out to be a mistake because now you’re hyperaware of how anxious (and for some reason, frumpy) you look right now. Nice going you idiot. 

Doing your best to make yourself presentable, you tussle your hair a bit and fix the collar of your shirt back to its proper position. You decide it’s good enough and go to exit the bathroom, pausing when you remember that you have a tinted lip balm you threw in your bag last minute. Rummaging through your bag for a solid 20 seconds, you find the tube at the very bottom and hastily apply it to your lips. Taking a step back, you take a final glance at your reflection - the balm is neutral-colored and fairly subtle, but makes you look slightly less dead. You’ll take the W. 

You make your way back down the hallway toward room 430. Approaching the end of the hall, you hear voices engaged in conversation. You pull out your phone to quickly check the time: 22 minutes of office hours remaining. Good enough, I guess. You’re three steps away from the doorway when you hear a familiar voice chime in - a voice soft and soothing, confident without being cocky. You proceed to enter the office before you have a chance to process how it’s making you feel. 

You find yourself in a room small yet cozy - bookshelves built into the wall that go all the way up to the ceiling, stacked with endless literature: many classics you’ve heard of, many others you haven’t. There’s no overhead lighting, but two antique-ish looking floor lamps illuminate the room with a warm-toned glow. An old, large mahogany desk fills nearly half the room, its accompanying chair vacant. Two fellow classmates are seated in the two smaller chairs facing the dark leather loveseat upon which your TA is currently sitting - reclined, one leg over the other knee, hand on the open book laying face down on the couch next to him. The three faces turn to look at you as you enter, bringing their conversation to a halt. You fucking hate being collectively perceived in any circumstance, but something about the intimacy of the room makes this particular situation even worse than usual. You feel your face start to turn warm but you quickly shove the embarrassment back down. Not today. 

Seungkwan greets you amiably, your name sounding sweet in his mellow voice. “Glad you could make it! Come on in, have a seat.” He picks up the paperback by his side and sets it on his lap, motioning for you to sit next to him. 

Right. Next. To. Him. 

Ignoring the million panic alarms going off in your head, you force a small smile and take your seat. The couch is even smaller than it seemed - there’s maybe two feet between you and him. You’re greeted with the inviting scent of his cologne. 

The two students resume their discussion. You sit there mostly in silence, nodding along, trying not to fixate on Seungkwan’s closeness. But it’s hard to focus on anything other than that - like, really hard.

The twenty-ish minutes pass rather quickly, and the conversation that you’ve contributed nothing to starts to wrap up. The two other students begin packing their bags. You pull out your phone to check the time - 4:57pm. A sense of relief washes over you as you’ll be forced to leave now - no more sitting there anxiously not knowing what to say - but you’re also feeling a little sulky about leaving so soon. You politely say goodbye back to your classmates, who are already on their way out the door. You go to put on your jacket only to discover you never took it off (no wonder it felt so warm in here). Grabbing your book and tossing it in your backpack, you hurry to leave as well before you manage to do or say something to embarrass yourself. 

“Bye! Thank you!” you say cheerily as you step out the door.

“Y/n?”

You stop in your tracks. You turn around to face Seungkwan, who is still sitting on the couch, reclined, with his arm now laying across the back where you just were. That makes you feel a lot of things, which you promptly ignore.

“Yeah?” you reply, hoping a smile will cover your nervousness.

“I believe you took my book.”

You stand there for a moment, confused, before you realize you never took your own copy out. The one you hastily threw into your bag was his. So much for not embarrassing yourself.

“Oh my god I’m SO sorry!!” you blurt out, swinging your backpack around and hurrying to retrieve it.

“It’s alright,” he says with a soft chuckle. “I did set it right next to you.”

You grab his copy out of your bag and hold it out to him sheepishly. He stands up and takes the book in his hand, his fingers brushing yours slightly. You’ve never been electrocuted, but you’re pretty sure what just jolted through your body was a similar sensation.

“Did you have any questions about the book?” he asks before you can bolt out the door. “You didn’t say much in our discussion today-” You open your mouth to apologize again, but he gently puts his hand up to stop you. “I just want to make sure I can help you if you came here with something specific in mind.” 

“Oh, um…” You hesitate, fiddling with your coat sleeve. You decide to tell the truth.  

“Honestly, not really. I kinda just came here to get an idea of how I can participate during class. Cuz, y’know. Don’t really want a zero.”

Seungkwan nods. “Your essays have been very good, I know you’re a highly capable student.” 

You try not to blush. You know he’s just talking about your coursework, but accepting compliments is not your forté. 

“I’m just… not a literature student, so I’m not used to taking classes like these. I guess I just get a little nervous that I’m gonna say something stupid.” You’re not sure why you’re telling him all this. 

“As long as you’ve read and understood the text, you won’t sound stupid - I promise.” 

You look down at the floor. Maybe these are normal things for TAs to say to students, but the fact that you’re kind of in love with him is not helping right now. 

“Besides,” he continues, “I’m the one grading you. I assure you you’ll get a good grade as long as you participate.”

“Well, that’s good news,” you say with a contented smile. You do feel reassured by his words. “Thanks again,” you say, as you turn to leave. 

“Oh, and y/n?”

You lock eyes with him, a recurring habit you seem to be unable to quit. 

“If you ever can’t make my office hours, feel free to email me. I’m sure we can find another time to meet one-on-one.”

One-on-one???

“Oh cool, I… appreciate that.” Does he say that to all his students?? He must, right? Don’t be delusional…

He nods courteously. “See you in class.”

“You too!” you add brightly as you finally head out the door. This time you do look back to see him still looking at you, with an ambiguous look on his face that you cannot decipher.

For the rest of the week, for once, you find yourself looking forward to Tuesday.

—

Tuesday. You resume your usual very-back-of-the-room spot for Discussion - but this time you finally engage in the class’ conversation. You still feel kinda dumb about it, but your TA’s promise of giving you a good grade so long as you participate sticks with you. Besides, who gives a shit what the other students think of you. There is only one person in that room whose opinion you care about, and you seem to have his approval, for reasons unclear to you. Maybe you are just a decent student. But the fact that there’s maybe something else there… You don’t let yourself develop delusions of grandeur, but there’s no crime in being cautiously optimistic. 

On Thursday you find yourself back at office hours, this time arriving a bit earlier - though much to your chagrin the two other students from last time are there again. You’re not sure exactly what you were hoping for if it was just you alone, especially considering you still don’t have any specific questions about the book, but you were kind of hoping it would happen anyway. But alas, you partake in office hours with company. You actually find yourself enjoying these literary discussions a bit, now that you (sort of) know how to engage with them properly.

And so you become a regular at Seungkwan’s office hours - Thursday afternoons quickly becoming the highlight of your week. Nothing out of the ordinary ever happens between you two - and there’s always other students there whenever you attend - but you don’t see any harm in enjoying your time spent with him. 

Per usual, though, as finals approach more and more students start attending as well. One week you show up at 3pm sharp, only to find five students already there asking questions about their essays. You acknowledge that it’s probably just wishful thinking, but he does seem genuinely pleased to see you - pausing his conversation briefly to greet you, your name spoken warmly with a smile on his face. You make a mental note that he doesn’t greet anyone else who enters by name.

Seungkwan maintains a very patient and polite composure, but you get the sense that he is rather irked at the several students who are more or less trying to get him to write part of their essays for them. You chat for a few minutes with a friendly classmate you’ve become acquainted with, but ultimately you both give up on trying to talk to the TA and decide to leave. You sneak a quick glance back as you exit, catching Seungkwan’s eye right before you’re out of his line of sight. Though perhaps you weren’t so sneaky, because once you’re in the hallway your classmate nudges you with her elbow and teases, “Ooooh you have a crush on him don’t you?”

You scoff. “Oh please.”

“No seriously, he looked like a sad puppy seeing you go. You should ask him out.”

You roll your eyes and give her a “Yeah, right,” before casually changing the subject. But her comment sticks with you, and for days your mind keeps coming back to it. You’re hesitant to jump to conclusions, but the fact that she noticed it too… Perhaps you will shoot your shot after all. 

—

Taking advantage of the fact that you didn’t get a chance to speak with him during his regular office hours, you decide to take Seungkwan up on his offer. You did rewrite the email about 15 times, erase it repeatedly, and almost give up entirely, but in the end you came up with a message you deemed solidly good enough:

Hi Seungkwan, I was wondering if you have any availability to meet to discuss the current essay. I have a few questions that I feel would be easier to convey in person. I understand finals are a very busy time though, so if you aren’t available I completely understand. Thank you.

You hit send at 11:57pm on Sunday night, so you figure you’ll get a response the next morning. Before you can even close your laptop, you get an email notification.

Hi y/n, I’d be happy to meet with you. Are you available Tuesday evening after 6pm? I apologize for the odd hours, but that would be the most ideal time for me. However, if that does not work for you I’m sure we can figure something out.  Seungkwan

You sit and stare at your screen rereading it for a good five minutes. You hit the reply button.

Sure, that works for me! Thank you - I really appreciate it.

The light ping of a notification returns within seconds.

Of course, y/n. See you then.

You shut your laptop, your hand resting on top of it as your mind races, rapidly cycling between excited and anxious. You keep telling yourself to lower your expectations: you’re simply meeting with your TA to discuss your essay - which, you don’t actually have any questions about, so now you’ll have to make some shit up. But that can be a tomorrow problem. Tonight, you go to bed, half-coherent thoughts of literature, exams, and a certain pair of soft brown eyes floating around in your mind as you drift off to sleep. 

—

You wake up on Tuesday and immediately enter into panic mode. You can’t seem to focus on anything other than your date meeting with Seungkwan later - which of course you expected, but it’s pretty inconvenient considering you have so much to do with finals rapidly drawing near. Your Discussion class is finished for the semester, so you won’t be seeing him until evening - you’re not sure if this makes things better or worse, but it is what it is. You spend the entire afternoon in the library, sitting amongst the stacks, sort of studying but mostly doing a whole fucking lot of daydreaming instead.

After several hours of minimal productivity, you check the time: 5:36pm. You feel your heart start to beat faster. Since you’re clearly not going to get anything else done, you pack up your belongings and make your way to the Literature building. Might as well get there a little early.

You climb the four flights of stairs to the top floor, the building strangely empty. Making your way down to the very end of the hallway you wonder if Seungkwan will even be there yet or if you’ve arrived early for nothing - but as you approach you notice the door is ajar, the unexpected sound of alt rock music greeting your ears. You knock lightly on the doorframe as you poke your head into the office. Seungkwan, seated behind the large mahogany desk, seemingly absorbed in something on his laptop, looks up - you’ve clearly caught him a bit off guard.

“Hi, sorry - I’m a little early,” you apologize.

His face lights up in a warm smile. “No, uh - that’s alright!” he replies cheerfully. “Go ahead, take a seat,” he says as he gestures to the couch. 

You plop your backpack down on the ground and remove your coat, carefully tucking your skirt (a rare choice of clothing for you, but you figured fuck it, why not) under yourself as you take a seat on the comfy sofa. Seungkwan turns the music down to a faintly audible volume and rises from his desk chair, making his way over to you. You expected him to sit in the armchair across from you, but he comes and joins you on the couch instead. You can practically hear the rapid thumpthumpthumpthump of your heartbeat. 

“So, tell me about your essay,” he starts. His eyes linger on yours.  “What did you have questions about?”

Nonchalantly taking a deep breath, you take out your laptop and open it, pulling up your draft file. You basically had your paper planned out already, but you made up some questions to ask so as not to give away the fact that you literally had no academic reason to be here. You begin to explain your first question, which turns out to be an extremely difficult feat with him not only sitting so close to you, but also gazing at you softly, listening intently. You decide to avoid eye contact almost entirely. 

You chat about your essay topic for what feels like an eternity (you glance at the clock on your computer - it’s been 14 minutes). You’re in the middle of discussing the second point of your thesis when he interjects.

“Y/n, why are you really here?”

You feel the blood drain from your face. He’s onto me. It’s over.

“It’s very clear that you understand the book perfectly well. I really don’t think you need my help.”

You slowly look up at him, hesitating before opening your mouth to try and bullshit some response, but nothing comes out. 

“You know, I don’t normally schedule one-on-one office hours with students outside of my usual times.”

The blood comes rushing back to your cheeks. You feel like a fucking idiot.

“I’msosorry,” you blurt out. “I really wasn’t trying to waste your time I-”

“That’s not what I mean, y/n.”

You freeze. Does he mean…

Before you can even finish that thought he kisses you.

His hand cradles your face gently, drawing you closer to him as he presses his lips onto yours, electricity pulsing through your entire body - all you can think about is the way his lips feel, the way he softly brushes your cheek with his thumb, the way you want to throw your laptop across the room and throw yourself onto him so you can kiss him even more. 

As if he read your mind, he reaches down (still kissing you) and closes your laptop, picking it up and setting it aside carefully. You lap now vacant, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your body into his, his soft kiss becoming more fervent. Your hand rests on his chest as you kiss him back - you feel the energy of his heart beating, at the same pace as yours, through the cozy sweater he has on. After several seconds (minutes? hours?) his lips part from yours, the sudden lack of sensation leaving you immediately longing for more; they linger mere inches from your face as your eyes meet his sensuous gaze. 

“Just one second,” he says in a voice barely above a whisper.

Seungkwan gets up and swiftly shuts the door - you hear the deep, satisfying thunk of the old door closing, followed by the subtle click of the lock. He then walks over to the desk to turn the music up to a decent volume before making his way back over to the couch. He barely resumes his seat before grasping onto you desperately, his face buried as he begins to kiss your neck. You let out a sigh at the unexpected sensation, wrapping your arms around his torso and drawing him in even tighter. His large hands caress your back as if trying to commit your shape to memory, as your hand slowly makes its way down his side - stopping when you reach his belt, resting on the waistline of his jeans which are very obviously becoming tighter by the second. 

You hesitate at first, but eventually your hand continues downward; Seungkwan sharply inhales as it lands on his growing bulge, his body tensing up against yours. He pulls his face from the crook of your neck, his lips immediately finding yours again, indulging in another kiss as he pulls you over onto his lap. You begin making out with him, your hand holding his warm, flushed cheek; your core, now exposed aside from the barrier of your underwear, presses against the hardness in his pants, causing soft moans to escape from the both of you. Before long, your hips begin to rock back and forth, grinding on his clothed cock - lightly at first, but with increasing intensity. You break away from his kiss; he looks at you, his eyelids heavy.

“Y/n…” he breathes out as he starts to kiss you again, “you don’t know how… wanted you so bad…”

“Me too,” you mutter.

He slides his hand under your skirt, finding your clit and beginning to circle it gently through your soaked underwear, causing you to whine softly.

“Oh fuck, you’re so wet,” he says in a low, husky voice, his fingertips increasing their pace against the sensitive bud. He then slips his finger under the hem of your panties, pulling them aside to expose your already-swollen cunt, the sharpness of the cool air hitting its wetness. You cry out as he slides one finger into you, followed by another, his thumb continuing to caress your clit. Your hips begin to rock again, fucking yourself against his perfectly-curled fingers that are hitting you in all the right spots, your speed quickly increasing with the overwhelming pleasure that has taken over your entire body. You feel it welling in your stomach, your orgasm growing nearer with each movement. You’re about to lose it when he slows your pace, looking at you with lust-filled eyes - you can tell what it is he wants. 

You reach down and undo his belt, unfastening his button and drawing down the zipper. His jeans out of the way, you pull the band of his underwear down, freeing his hardened cock - he lets out a groan as you begin to stroke its length. Precum has already begun to form, your fingers taking the wetness and gliding it over the head. 

“Please… wanna fuck you so bad…” He’s practically whimpering at this point.

You slide your pussy up and down his length a few times, causing him to recline his head against the couch as he breathes heavily. Finally you take his cock in your hand, placing it at your entrance and lowering yourself onto him, crying out at the sudden sensation of fullness. He groans as you slowly begin to ride him, his length hitting you in the perfect spot; you have to bite your lip to control yourself from becoming too loud - it feels even better than you’d ever imagined.

You begin to pick up the pace, bouncing on his cock as the sensation in your stomach begins to build again, even stronger now with him inside you. Your cries involuntarily become louder, prompting him to place his other hand over your mouth.

“Shhh, baby - don’t want anyone to hear us.”

You nod, tears welling in your eyes.

His soft grunts become more frequent - you can tell he’s getting close. Your walls squeeze around him tightly as you’re also nearing orgasm. He drops his hand from your mouth so he can grab onto your hips with both hands, holding you tight as he thrusts into you, full of vigor. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he says, his voice low and gruff.

“Want you to cum in me,” you reply breathily. He nods eagerly. You’re nearly there yourself. You cling to his face, giving him one more kiss before you can’t hold it in any longer.

“Oh fuck I’m gonna cum,” you manage to get out before the white-hot sensation takes over your whole body. You cry out, your walls clenching around him, immediately sending him over the edge - his cock pulses as you feel his cum release inside you. 

As you come down from your high your body melts into his as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in. He plants a few soft kisses on your cheek as you sink into him, his cock still inside you. You lay there peacefully for an unknown amount of minutes, the rock music still playing in the background as he rubs your back gently. Eventually you sit up, pressing your nose against his.

“Does this mean I get an A?” you ask jokingly.

He laughs, his nose crinkling as he smiles. “You were going to get one anyway, I assure you the fact that I just had the best sex of my life will have no impact on your grade.”

You break out into laughter. You pause, then ask hesitantly, “Soooo, what does this mean?”

His brown eyes rest on yours. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to figure that out later,” he says pragmatically. A slight tinge of sadness comes across your face, but before you can say anything he continues.

“How does tonight over dinner sound?”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile back at him. 

“I think that sounds perfect.”

[end]

[princessmaybank]

Hey Princess 👑! Chefs Kiss 💋😘 for writing and you deserve the 1.5K celebration 🎉 and may I please get Cherry red 🍒 with prompts 24 and 25 cause they are my fav! Thank you so much have a wonderful day! Love you lots!😘

Thank you so much honey and absolutely! Sorry it took forever baby, I hope you like it though!

Gettin' Mouthy

Pairings: Dom!Boyfriend!JJ x Kook!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Annoying!reader, public, hickeys, fingering, grinding, oral (Fem. receiving), rough!JJ, gagging, daddy kink, unprotected p in v, creampie, etc.

Summary: Reader had an attitude problem and JJ decided to fix it!

Author's Note: I hope you all like this one, I would really enjoy some feedback on this one! Enjoy!

Moodboard

"I just don't see why you can't get me both Jay!" She whined. All day long it's been this back and forth game of which thing to buy her. I couldn't afford both and she damn well knew that but didn't seem to care I guess.

"You know I can't afford both!" I said, irritated. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Maybe you should get a better job." That's when I snapped. I pulled her by the wrist until we were far enough away from the street in a small alleyway. I pushed her harshly up against the brick wall and my hand found its way around her throat. "Who do you think you're talking to?" I ask through gritted teeth.

She rolled her eyes again, not giving a fuck. "You. Who else would I be talking to?" She snipped at me. "I suggest you choose your words very wisely darling." Her attitude hasn't gone away, I can still see it in her eyes and in her body language. "Or what?" She asks. I paused. She's a brat but she's never been this bratty. "Who do you think you're talking to?" I ask, getting genuinely upset. Her arms crossed against her chest with another huff and eye roll. "There's no one else around...who do you think I'm talking to?" She said in the same tone that started this mess. I let out a huff as my tongue swirled the inside of my cheek.

"You're testin' my patience darlin'." I gave a small fake laugh. "Oh boo hoo.." Y/N mocked. I slammed her against the wall again, keeping my hand around her throat. "Fix your attitude or I'll fuck it out of you." I snapped. "Take me home then." She rolled her eyes with a huff. I let out a deep chuckle.

"Oh no princess, you wanna act like a spoiled little bitch in public, you're gonna get punished in public too." I smirked and her eyes finally went wide. "What? No Jay..I was only playin! Swear!" She tried to save her ass but it wasn't gonna work. "Too late for that princess. You're fucked." I grinned.

I swiftly grabbed her wrists and held them above her head with one hand. My other hand roamed her body as did my lips. I kissed and bit at her neck, leaving a path of beautiful red markings. "Jay- s-someone might see us!" She whined. I continued my line of kisses down her breasts and smirked against her skin. "Shoulda thought about that, huh." I said looking up at her with a shit-eating grin. All she could do in response was whine some more and wiggle around, but she wasn't going anywhere.

"Remember princess...I'm still in charge, no matter how bratty you think you can be." I whispered in her ear before flipping her around and pinning her to the wall. I put my hands on her hips and pushed my hips against her ass. I placed gentle kisses on her shoulder, causing a small gasp to come from her lips. My hand snaked its way up under her dress. I gasp in her ear when I find a little surprise. "No panties? Naughty girl." I tease her slit by lightly running my finger over her folds. "For you daddy. For later." She whined again. "You're lucky it isn't a windy day, doll." I release a breathy moan in her ear as I insert my middle finger into her. She moaned and tried to grind against my hand. "Ah ah ah. I don't think so princess." I pulled my hand away from her and placed them both back on her hips.

I jutted my pelvis forward, lightly grinding my cock against her ass. "JJ, please, stop teasing!" Y/N yelled. My hand slapped over her mouth to keep her from shouting more. "Gonna get us caught with that loud mouth of yours." I pulled her a little bit away from the wall so I could bend her over. "C'mon princess you know what to do...hands on the wall." I smirked as she huffed before complying.

"Mmm good girl.." My hands slowly massaged her ass, giving each cheek a little slap before dropping to my knees. "Wha-what are you doing Jay?!?" She yelled again. Without a second thought I gave her pussy a nice slap causing a yelp. "Shut that pretty little mouth princess, ya never know what could get shoved in there."

She finally settled before my tongue swiped from her clit to her asshole. I grabbed her thighs to support her as my tongue swirled around her perfect little cunt. Moans spilled from her lips, even when I peppered her lower lips with kisses. My tongue circled her hole before plunging in and out with the most beautiful noises coming from my little lady. "Oh fuck Jay- need more!" She always loves to whine.

Before I knew it she was fuckin' herself with my tongue. Her hand crept down to her clit and toyed with it as she pushed herself backwards. "Oh..oh shit..." Moan after moan leaving her body. Just when she thought I'd let her cum, I pulled away and stood up. Once again she whined and complained about me doing this to her. Y/N turned around to start arguing with me.

"Really Jay?! You knew how close I wa-" I cut her off by slamming her against the wall. I quickly pulled off my belt and wrapped it around her head and used it as a gag. I stepped close to her and bent down to her ear. "Since you seem to have no control over that pretty little mouth princess.." I smirked.

One hand stayed on the extra length of my belt while the other worked my jeans down. My lips attacked her neck, earning me some muffled moans. I got my cock out and started pumping myself and continued. Y/N was eager and so was I, she took my cock and led it to her entrance. "Someone's needy.." I tease. She rolled her eyes at me. "Even gagged you find a way to give me attitude.. unbelievable" I let out a small laugh before slipping inside her juicy pussy.

I lifted her leg up and gently started thrusting. Her head fell back against the wall and she closed her eyes. Y/N didn't get to sit like that for long because I pulled her head back up with the belt. "Eyes on me princess." My thrusts got faster and I forced her to keep looking at me.

I was a mess. She looked so beautiful like this. I took the belt off and urgently attached my lips to hers while speeding up my thrusts some more. I reached down and started circling her clit. "Ya ever-gonna mouth off- again princess?" I said through pauses for breaths. "mmmm fuck, probably!!"

I pinched her clit. "Ow! fuck, no! I won't ever mouth off ever again daddy!" She squeezed her eyes shut as my pace quickened and I suddenly got sloppy. "Almost there princess..c'mon.." I grunt. "Oh fuck- don't stop daddy! please please please...right there" She squealed and came on my dick, nearly sending me over the edge.

"Where do ya want it princess?" My breath hitched. "In-inside.." I smirked. "Fuck..yea take my cum princess..fuck- just for you..oh shit.." I released inside of her just like she wanted. She was still recovering as my liquid shot into her.

"Sorry for mouthing off Jay, I learned my lesson, even though, no one came down here." She giggled and I chuckled. "Next time your ass is on display princess. But I am glad I fucked your little tantrum away."

[curiositydooropened]

Halloween • A Ranged Special

A woman dies of mysterious circumstances and you and your partner are called to a tiny Midwest town on Halloween.

Pairing: special agent!Steve Harrington x special agent!Reader

Wordcount: 3759

Warnings: This is a special based on this fic.*This blurb contains canon typical violence, including violence toward both main characters, mentions of suicide, all characters in peril, jump scares, zombies, etc. Please read at your own discretion.

This blog is 18+ only. I do not give permission for any of my fics to be duplicated, reposted, or put into AI. Thank you!

Navigation • Masterlist

---

Moodboard • Episode 00: Prologue

A paper Dracula hung in the doorway, spinning on fishing line that was paper clipped into ceiling tiles. Crepe streamers dangled from its cape. 

A friendly little bell chimed your entrance, and although you’d managed to duck beneath the streamers, Steve walked directly into it like a moonlit spider’s web, and with a grunt, he batted it from the ceiling and into the ficus pot nearby.

“Steve,” you scolded, trying to muffle your laughter between your molars at the look of disdain etched in his brow.

“I hate Halloween,” he punched the vampire’s face into the soil for good measure before following you through the vestibule and to the open lobby of the little 24-hour diner. 

Cakes and pies with glistening tops rotated in a spinner to the left of the till. Bats and ghosts were hung from a coat rack and more ceiling tiles.

You waited near a hostess stand for a young woman to arrive, watching with baited breath as she gave your partner the ole up-down and lash-bat before ushering you off to your table.

He ordered two coffees and handed you an oversized vinyl menu, flicking a bat-shaped sequin from the tabletop.

“You’re such a Scrooge.” You chided, peering over stock-images of pancake stacks and sausage links.

“That’s Christmas and bah-humbug,” he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair.

You glanced at him over your menu, hair perfectly coifed, bruise from last week’s scuffle yellowing at his jaw. “You not eating?”

He shrugged and glanced around the room.

You followed his gaze to a couple of truck drivers hunched over cups of coffee. Three old men shared a table in the back corner, laughing heartily with food in their beards. A mother was cutting up her pancakes for a little girl in face paint and cat ears. Your shoulders relaxed when Steve’s did. Safe.

The waitress returned with two steaming cups of coffee, staring directly into Steve’s eyes as she took your order, dark curls flowing from a hair tie at the back of her neck. “Are you really a secret agent, or is this a costume?”

Steve leaned forward in his chair, reaching into the inner pocket of his trench coat. “Wanna see my badge?” 

You slid the menu between their line of sight, and Steve cocked a brow your direction, the slightest smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“The sheriff is supposed to be here any minute,” you informed him when she walked away, peeling the lid from a creamer container to stir into your cup. Anything to distract from the heat in your face and neck.

“Henderson says hi, by the way,” Steve said, coffee mug in both hands, pink lips bowing to blow the steam from the surface.

“Huh?” You began to shuffle off your trench coat.

“Dustin Henderson, the friend of mine you met a few months ago. I was with him when Owens called about this case. He wanted me to tell you hi.” Steve explained, taking soft sips of his coffee.

You smiled, remembering the young man with the curly hair and delightful penchant for spy-craft. “Tell him ‘hi’ back.”

“Boo!” A man appeared from around the corner, nearly startled the coffee from Steve’s mouth. You recognized the Sheriff’s uniform, but did find yourself a little unnerved by the hyper-realistic zombie makeup and gashes the man had tacky glued to his face. “Or should I say ‘braaaaains’?”

Steve’s hand went to the handle of his weapon under his jacket, and you pushed your chair back to stand and greet you brunch guest. 

“You must be Sheriff Bouchart,” you introduced yourself and Steve with an extended hand.

“Oh please, call me Tim,” he cackled and ushered you back to your seat while he pulled up a chair from a nearby table and sat in it the wrong-way-around. “I just love Halloween. Don’t you just love Halloween?”

You bit back a smile as you watched Steve squirm in his seat and hummed your agreement. You’d helped Sadie decorate their front porch the night before, fresh carved jack-o-lanterns and corn stalks. Jeff was going to dress as a scarecrow and sit limply on a bench with a bowl of candy in his lap, waiting to scare passersby. You ached a little at the thought.

“So, what can I do you for, Agents?”

You looked from the Sheriff to Steve and back. “We’re here about the… murder.”

“Murder?” The Sheriff frowned.

You nodded and pulled a small notebook from your jacket pocket. “Cheryl Leahy?”

Tim shook his head, the bright smile falling from his bloodied face. “Oh that, tragic thing, really, but coroner agrees it was a suicide.”

“She made an emergency phone call about a monster with rows and rows of teeth,” Steve said, arms crossed and brow furrowed.

“She did,” Tim nodded.

“And you found her with several puncture wounds the size of small bite marks?” You tried to confirm.

Tim nodded. “So we thought, but upon further selection, we noticed it was glass. Poor woman threw herself out the front window of her home.”

Steve shot you a perturbed look, fingernails tapping the ceramic mug in front of him.

“Any sign of a break-in? Maybe she could have been pushed?” You asked.

“Nope. Doors were unlocked, but this is the Midwest, no one locks their doors. They weren’t any signs of a struggle either, other than the broken window,” Tim clarified, thanking the waitress with a hand on her arm as she dropped off another cup of coffee and your pancake stack. Then he reached across the table to pull out four sugar packets and unload them into his drink.

Steve looked like he might be sick.

“Listen, kids,” Tim picked up the spoon from your napkin and began to stir his drink. “Cheryl Leahy, God rest her soul, was a troubled woman. She’d gone a bit off the deep end in the last couple of months, and this wasn’t exactly a surprise.”

“What do you mean?” Steve pulled his coffee from the table, as though the sweetener might jump into his own cup. 

“I mean, she left her husband, quit her job, became a hermit.”

“Does anyone know why?” You asked, taking a bite of delicious, buttery pancake.

Tim shrugged, leaned in to offer the next bit of information just above a whisper. “Rumor has it she was seeing a woman.”

“Have you looked into this woman?” Steve asked.

Tim shook his head. “We couldn’t find any proof of an affair or even of another woman. You know how the rumor mills work in these small towns. I think the ladies at the credit union just needed something to talk about at the water cooler.” He turned to offer you a wink.

You faked a smile.

Steve’s fist clenched on the tabletop. “Well, we’re going to need access to the crime scene.”

Tim sipped his coffee and smacked his lips, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “No can do, buddy. Crime scene’s cleared. New window’s being installed today. Like I said, it’s been ruled as a suicide. Nothing to see there.”

“We understand,” you said, mouthful of sticky sweet pancake to cut Steve off before he said anything rash. You swallowed. “Unfortunately, we have to report something to our boss. I’m sure you understand.”

“Sure, sure,” Tim nodded. “You’re more than welcome to canvas her neighbors. See if maybe they saw something? Other than the poor lady’s body in her driveway.”

—

Mist crawled from the lake’s surface and swirled at your feet. Lamplight cast you both in long silhouettes as you walked, heads disappearing into the fog. 

You stifled a yawn with your hand. 

“Knew I should’ve stopped you from eating those pancakes,” Steve tutted, kicking dead leaves from the toes of his shoes.

You’d spent the day canvasing. You left Steve at the stoop and walked door-to-door after the first homeowner nearly got decked in the face for wearing a Freddy Krueger mask and holding a candy bucket. Nobody knew anything about Cheryl Leahy, nor had they seen or heard anything unusual the night of her death.

“Why did Owens send us here?” You groaned, pawing at tired eyes. Your shoulders and feet felt heavy, each step a slog. 

A blood-curdling scream was better than a cup of coffee.

Steve took off first, the clack of his soles against pavement before he was up a lawn, reaching into his trench coat. You were hot on his tail, heart pumping.

Your partner stopped short, and you nearly barreled into his broad back until you peered around him to see a bunch of kids cackling, pretending to stab one another with a plastic knife. They were dressed as various cartoon characters and carried empty pillow cases and pumpkin-shaped-buckets.

With a snort, you grabbed Steve’s shoulder and led him back down the hill and to the paved path.

“I hate Halloween,” he repeated his sentiment from earlier through gritted teeth.

“Why?” You smiled, kicking at the fog as you stepped.

“Because,” Steve said, that frown burrowing itself between his brows, “there are real monsters in this world they should be afraid of.”

“Have you ever had fun?” You asked behind a yawn, laughing when his eyes snapped to yours. “Even once in your life?”

“I have fun,” he argued.

“Shooting monsters in the face doesn’t count,” you countered.

“Believe me, that is not fun,” he sighed.

You tried not to let the sadness sink in, choosing instead to barrel forward, back around the cul-de-sac where you’d parked your rental. “Alright then, what do you and Dustin do when you hang out?”

“That isn’t fun either,” he rolled his eyes.

“Okay, your… other friends then,” you ventured, hating the way your stomach sank at the thought of him having other company. You thought of Michelle from that party months ago, and wondered if he’d ever reached out.

Sadie hadn’t mentioned anything. She just kept pestering you about whether or not you’d tied him down: figuratively and literally.

Steve’s face fell in a way you hadn’t anticipated but recognized as a shut down of your line of questioning. He shook his head and looked far up the path into the mist. Robin.

You swallowed. You knew better than to push further, but you ached to slip your hand into his and tell him it was okay, that he was safe with you.

You felt his elbow bump into yours. “We should get you something to eat.”

You smiled up at him. “Don’t think I didn’t hear your stomach two houses ago, Harrington.”

You swatted at him to push him away, but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you in tighter, his trench coat and chest all-encompassing as a stampede of children skipped past you both, chanting.

“Trick-or-Treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat!”

His chest radiated warmth, and when you looked up, his throat and cheeks were pinched pink. You watched his mouth as his chest rose and fall beneath your palm, and his Adam’s apple bobbed in a swallow.

You felt his stomach growl before you heard it, and you bit back a smile as you patted his middle. “Let’s get you something good to eat.”

—

The same Dracula was restrung in the doorway, and the hostess’s sign had been flipped to have you seat yourself at the same table as that morning. Vinyl menus now displayed mashed potatoes and chicken club sandwiches. A car drove by, casting Steve in the headlights for a moment across the table, engrossed in his dinner selections.

You tried not to think of Sadie’s pesterings, or wonder what Steve would look like all face-painted up like a scarecrow, hair stuffed into a straw hat. 

The same waitress from earlier approached with a tongue pressed to her top row of teeth. “You’re back.”

Steve flashed you a daring smile and leaned back in his seat. “You didn’t get Halloween off?”

“Jehovah’s Witness,” she explained, tapping her pen cap to the pad in her hand. “I’m off at midnight, though.”

“I’ll have a cheeseburger,” you cleared your throat, folding your menu over Steve’s. “Fries and a coke.”

“That sounds great. I’ll have the same,” Steve flashed her a thousand-watt smile, handing over the menus. 

You hated the green monster that clawed at your insides.

“So what brings you to town, G-man?” The woman asked, idling with a nylon-covered knee a little too close to Steve’s.

“Did you ever spend anytime with Cheryl Leahy? Serve her here, maybe?” You asked, leaning across the table to catch her gaze.

Recognition flashed across the woman’s face, and she pursed her lips. “You mean the crazy lesbian lady from the credit union? Thought she killed herself.”

“She did,” Steve shot you a look. “Her family just wanted us to tick all the boxes.”

“Right,” the girl nodded slowly, glancing between the two of you before the smile slid back onto her lips. She tapped her pen cap twice to Steve’s knee and promised to be right back.

“They wouldn’t send us on a false lead, would they?” You asked when the waitress’s hips swung out of earshot.

Steve’s eyes widened, and he glanced around the empty diner before leaning into you. “Say that again.”

You swallowed, the ominous feeling you felt around house six settling back between your shoulders. “Well, it did sound like our thing, but it’s looking like maybe it’s not our thing, and I’m just wondering if this is,” you lowered your voice, “some sort of distraction.”

“Distraction from what?”

You shrugged, played with the sticky wrapper holding your silverware inside your napkin. “Les Joplin, George Humbolt, the Garcias.”

When you looked up, Steve’s face was inches from yours, eyes carefully watching every change in your expression. You hoped you could convey your worry, that you’d been thinking about this for the last few months, through every small town and every patch of rotting Earth.

“Two cokes,” your waitress interrupted, placing sticky sweet soda between you. The bubbles fizzed against their straw.

You thanked her and ignored the ripple of butterflies at the smile Steve gave her.

“The last three people we saved are still alive,” he said through his teeth, glancing back up at the waitress as she sauntered away.

You swallowed and nodded, stirring your drink before taking a sip. The bubbles tickled at your nostrils and it went down ice-cold.

“Think they’re onto us being onto them?”

You shrugged. “Could be.”

“Do you think I put Henderson in danger?”

You watched the panic fill his eyes. “Steve.”

The bell chimed and a gust of wind rolled in, sweeping leaves into the lobby. Pies and cakes continued to spin in your periphery.

Your shoulders felt heavy with burden, with the weight of the world, and your eyelids too. You reached a hand across to Steve, and he spoke your name like sound waves through a soupy atmosphere. 

“Who sent you?” The waitress appeared, large bottle in her hand, although even she was sideways, off-kilter. “Was it Brenner?”

You fell from your seat, heavier than gravity would allow, and you watched as the bats and Draculas began to spin, crepe paper circles blurring your vision until everything went black.

—

Your brain felt fuzzy inside your skull, your mouth was bone dry, and the light was too bright behind your eyelids. You scrambled to remember your whereabouts, squinting against the harsh glow, and as you slipped back into consciousness, you became painfully aware of the rope around your wrists and ankles.

You strained against them and pulled yourself from laying to seated to find yourself in the auditorium of an old theater. Paint peeled from decorative lighting around the expanse and down from this balcony to the lower level.

On the stage, a huge white projector screen showed the mist of a classic monster movie.

You called out for Steve, but your mouth had been tied too, cloth between your teeth in a gag.

You tugged on your restraints for just a moment of more panic before remembering your training. Deep breaths in and out. 

You observed your surroundings, looked for exits, on either side of the floor level, and then one across the mezzanine from where you sat. You laid back down to peer under the seats for any sign of your partner. 

A few chairs creaked near the exit, almost imperceptible, and you froze, closing your eyes, stilling your breathing like you might pass for being asleep. Then footsteps, the clack of soles against the steps.

You risked a peak to find Steve, who crouched across the aisle from you, finger to his lips.

You nodded and waited with bated breath until a familiar voice startled you. “Oh good. You’re awake. You think now you’re willing to talk?”

You stared at Steve, and he maintained his posture, reassuring you he had it covered if you just played along.

You looked back up at the waitress and nodded fervently.

The waitress barked a cold laugh and approached from the row behind Steve, uniform discarded for something less conspicuous. Her long curls had been released and now fell at her shoulders. “Or maybe I ought to play with you a little bit more.”

She snapped her fingers and Steve stood from his crouch.

You cursed under your breath. Of course she was enhanced.

Feeling the ground around you for a loose screw, you used your thumbnail to loosen it from its hold to use to begin to cut the ropes at your wrist.

Steve wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in close, bending to press his lips against hers. She moaned, tangling her fingers in his thick hair.

You tried your damndest to focus on the screw until they began to move, slowly backing him to the balcony’s edge.

You cried out for him, but it was too late.

With one powerful shove, you watched your partner plummet to the auditorium floor. Scrambling to your knees to peer over the side, you saw his mangled remains, blood seeping down the incline toward the orchestra pit.

You screamed and ripped your wrists from their restraints.

Standing, you managed to swing your arms at her with the intention to push her over the side with him. Only, she wasn’t there, not really. You wafted through the air until you lost your balance, and you felt gravity cascading you up and over to meet your partner’s fate.

With a sharp tug, your arm was ripped from it’s socket.

“I’ve got you,” Steve said, gripping your wrist, teeth grit.

You glanced to the floor to find it empty, nothing but air beneath your dangling feet.

On the giant screen behind you, a monster’s silhouette was framed in shadow, tens of feet high.

“Give me your hand,” Steve yelled.

With a cry of agony, you swung your other hand to grasp his and allow him to hoist you upward.

Safely back on the mezzanine, Steve made to quickly untie your bonds, large hand replacing the gag on your cheek. “Are you alright?”

His voice was hoarse, blood caked the side of his temple.

You swallowed, nodded. “Are you?”

He shrugged and looked around for any sign of her. “I think she’s enhanced.”

“She can make you see things,” you confirmed.

“Great,” he sighed, hand brushing your hair from your cheek, warm and comforting. You knew she couldn’t manufacture this, not the care or the devotion. “Can you walk?”

“My legs are fine,” you stated, gritting your teeth through the sting in your shoulder.

Steve shook his head. “I’ll put it back in the car. Stay close to me.” He grabbed your hand to assist you in standing, and didn’t release it as you made your way up the balcony aisle and through the exit doors.

—

Flashes illuminating the mist and trees surrounding the little theater. Blood that spilled from her wounds. She coughed and sputtered, face covered in shards of glass.

Tim Bouchart handed you the handcuffs from his belt, and you clipped them around her wrists to restrain her to the gurney, flesh and blood and bone.

“You sure you’re okay there, Agent?” Tim asked, face quite mundane without the zombie makeup.

“I’m fine,” you breathed through the ache. The emergency response team insisted on a hospital visit, but you’d rather not spend your Halloween night watching droves of other people in skeleton costumes puke up their dinner.

Steve finished giving the ambulance drivers their specific directions and shook Tim’s hand. “Sheriff, thank you for all your help. We’ll be in touch.”

“I’m sure you will,” Tim managed an exhausted smile before stumbling back into his cruiser. “Happy Halloween.”

You stifled a yawn behind your hand.

Steve scoffed beside you, cut on his head covered with a butterfly bandage.

You nodded. “I think I hate Halloween.”

—

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Dismissed,” Owens smiled, blue eyes sparkling. He clapped his hands together and held his office door open for you and Steve to exit.

In silence, you exited through his receptionist’s office and into the hallway, glancing both directions before making your way into the elevator. Steve whistled as he pressed the button for the lobby.

“Have any fun weekend plans?” He asked, ceasing his whistle.

You frowned back at him, small-talk so not his forte. “Going to Sadie’s to help with Thanksgiving plans,” you said. “You’re invited, by the way.”

He bristled at that, didn’t respond.

The elevator dinged, doors sliding open to reveal a large group of people waiting. The two of you shuffled around them and to the revolving glass door.

Crisp autumn air hit your face, and you sighed, watching leaves tumble down the sidewalk.

“So listen,” Steve stopped you with a hand to your forearm. “Henderson’s coming over tonight to watch movies. He wanted me to invite you.”

You pushed down anything that kicked in your stomach, tilted your face to catch the sunlight just over his head. “Do you want me there?”

He pursed his lips to avoid the smirk toying at the corner of them. “Not really. I know it’ll just be the two of you talking over the whole thing.”

You hummed. “Is that what you like to do for fun? Watch movies?”

He eyed you for a moment longer, weighing whether or not to tell you the truth, before he nodded. 

This time it was you disguising your smirk. “What movies are you watching tonight?”

“Halloween,” he said. This time, his lips split into a knee-weakening grin.

---

[A/N: In my mind, this entire chapter is in B&W. Like my two favorite episodes of Supernatural and X-Files. I missed you guys. Happy Halloween! xoxo]

[y-vna]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤ👻ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⚰️ㅤ ㅤㅤ𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 : 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘-𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 ㅤ ㅤㅤ🧹ㅤ ㅤㅤ🐈‍⬛

Welcome to the second ever official y-vent (y-vna's own twist on events hehe), celebrating almost 3.5k followers and our approaching 1 year anniversary of this blog!

Disclaimers/tws: some gorey images & mentions of most likely death/anything to kind of do with that since it's a dark Halloween oriented event. If you might be uncomfortable with such, please dm me about it, be cautious joining, or don't join!

Also event has quite heavy inspo from events made by @fairytopea and @sugarish (a lot by Vivi actually, and I swear I didn't mean for it to become so similar in the end, I hope that doesnt bother anyone) kind of unintentionally, my ideas just happen to be kind of unconsciously influenced a lot by them since I enjoy their creativity. If there's any issues concerning credits to original owners, please dm me.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝘔𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘸, 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘥��𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴' 𝘱𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘺 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 5 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 the ugliest emotions known to mankind, that our Halloween tales can't exist without.

　

steps

Comment your favorite Halloween movie + "boo!" under this memorial (post) to enter 🪦

Reblog & tag 3+ of your favorite ghouls (moots)! 👻

Send an ask to @s-pirits with one of the five options the spirits provided you that resonates most with your soul (rage, paranoia, grief, envy, or apathy). Please add a 🎃 emoji to your ask if you do not want a story included in your answer 🌔

The spirit will offer a unique story under the "read more" cut regarding your choice as it reads into the depths of your soul. There will also be a image along with the answer that you are not required to use, but can if you wish to! 🐈‍⬛

Be creative and have fun making your moodboards! Don't forget to tag me ( @y-vna ) in your entry and use the hashtag #Spirit of Halloween : The Event

rules

more than three of the same images on a moodboard of another entry can be considered copying, depending on the situation if the images are generic, idol pics, or ones provided by me.

deadline is going to be 28th of October. Do not panic if it isn't enough time, the extended last chance for submission will probably close 1st of November, since I was definitely not be posting winners until maybe a few days to a week after the first deadline.

Only one moodboard submission will count. You are allowed to post techincally as many as you would like, however you have to choose only one that will count in the final judging.

You may ask for another option if you are struggling with the one you pick. For example if you pick apathy (that one is gonna be hard I hope people can make that one work) and really can't work it out, you may have one more retry and send another ask to @s-pirits (make sure to specify you dont want the one you already got before).

Make sure to credit anybody who originally owns the resources you use! If you refuse to comply by adding credits when asked, you will be disqualified.

prizes

1st place : 2 custom moodboards, 90 reblogs, 2 custom divs, 1 edit

2nd place : 1 custom moodboard, 50 reblogs, 1 custom div

3rd place : 35 reblogs, 1 gif/div not fully customizable, shout-out

Send all questions or issues about this event to @s-pirits or to this blog's DMS idm which!

tags

@y-unrei @fairytopea @sugarish @heavenurl @wonjuii @tzulipss @chaeyve @yeoniis @aeraras @awwriri @loien @y2qi @soulari @bitchey @aestradairio @ciestial @c-heriis @eun-luv @flaireur @f-loqweres @floriseu @gyustarzzi2 @nikist-4-n @hyelita @fluiora @x-aravv @whosserina @p-oisn @purinkiss @n-americano @hourlyhoon @haerinism @aegsll @sukisng @sojuville @sxgarhan @imelis @yeossemble @sseulr1n @haenxn @jenfaery @chuwerii

[604to647]

The Rockford Portfolio

Detective Tim Rockford x fem!reader

Series Summary: A non-linear collection of fluffy (and sometimes a little smutty) one-shots about a gruff detective and a snap-happy reader 📸.

Marine Attraction (written for Jamie’s Ocean Challenge)

When a stakeout at the aquarium does not go as planned, Detective Tim Rockford must interview all the aquarium visitors, including you.

Husband Material

You come home drunk after a fun night out and Tim takes care of you.

Skittles

You catch Detective Tim Rockford in a compromising position.

Into the Night (Drabble)*

You wake to Tim leaving for work.

Paperwork

You keep Detective Tim Rockford company while he finishes up his paperwork.

Moodboard by @saradika Thank you!! 🥹

Third Time’s the Charm

After two failed attempts, Tim finally takes you on a first date.

At First Light*

Detective Rockford returns to you in the morning. (Follow-up to Into the Night)

Macarons

Tim thinks you're mad at him.

Hold On

You wear Detective Tim Rockford's leather holster.

Until Noon*

You make Tim go back to bed. (Can follow At First Light)

Commissioned art by @kittyoperas Thank you!! 🥹

*can be read together for a mini “Sleepy Trilogy”

Dance for Me (Mootboards and Minifics Celebration)

You and your friends go to a strip club for a fun girls’ night where, unbeknownst to you, Detective Rockford is undercover.

Sniffles

You’re sick and you don’t want to give Tim your germs.

Red Herring (Jamie’s Halloween Writing Challenge) new!

You make Detective Rockford a Halloween costume.

Spin-off AU (not part of the main collection above): The Detective and The Agent (Merge Mansion x The Mentalist crossover)

A/N: The only story that was written “in order” is the first, which inspired the series; it’s our meet cute and where reader’s nickname is revealed 😊 Where there is a photography element in the stories, the related photos in the moodboard are taken by yours truly; which is why the series title pic above includes two pics of me taking pictures 🤭 but reader is written as a physical blank slate (to the best of my ability 💕) - she’s not me, she’s you, boo 😘

Photography aesthetic dividers by @saradika-graphics 🙏🏻

[the-thing-in-the-dark]

🐛 Noa's 200 follower event 🐛

🍄 intro post 🍄

🥺 tysm to the 200 lovely people who decided to follow this shitty blog

send me as many asks as you want idc my inbox is literally covered in cobwebs at this point and i'm actually organised and have less work now so i'm bored

sorry i got a bit carried away with the backstory lol

You are exploring the forest and come to a clearing with many weird plants and animals. Echo, the Phantom Whisperling that's been following you around since you discovered it, chirps from under your hat, wondering why you stopped. You are an explorer and you are documenting many undiscovered flora and fauna of the Forgotten Woods. Certain plants an animals are hard to find. If this is your first time you can only find a limited number of plants - no animals. If you have explored before but not the Forgotten Woods, you can find all the plants - but only some of the animals. If you are a seasoned explorer and have been to the Forgotten Woods before, you can document all the plants and all the animals. Which plant or animal do you document first (if you can find it)?

🌱First timers (followers)🌱

🍄🌌: Phantom Glowcaps

I'll give you a really weird fun fact

🌿🌒: Moon shade Ferns

I'll drop some lore about the Forgotten Woods

🌙🕯️: Ebonfall Blooms

I'll give you a weird/creepy quote from me or one of my books

🐾Explored before (mutuals)🐾

���‍⬛🔮: Spectral Shadowcrow

I'll describe your blog in three words

🪻🪬: Gloomveil Blossoms

I'll make you a playlist that suits your blog's vibe (i don't hv spotify so keep that in mind)

🦊🌲: Forestflame Faerie

I'll make you a moodboard based on your blog/vibe

🫎Seasoned explorers (close mutuals or ik u irl)🫎

🦌🌫️ : Wraithglow Stag

I'll make your explorer persona as a DnD player

🐆🌧️ : Stormfeather Leopard

I'll write you a letter on why I love you + I'll give you a nickname

🦅🌪️ : Whirlwind Harpy

I'll drop some crazy/weird/funny lore about me. I don't have that much so the first three people who request this one will get it. (2/3)

💀Ask me anything (everyone) 💀

🦝 : Echo!!!

Ask me anything and I'll answer it

Remember mutuals can access anything in followers and close mutuals can access anything in mutuals and followers as well as their own sections. I stole the divider from canva and all the images from pinterest. This will end when it is not pinned.

tagging all my mutuals because it's been a week and this has like 8 notes

@moutainrusing @delusionaltogether @annabannnananana @shipspainfulships @whydontyourealize-viennawaits4u

@onlyinitforthefandoms @ashes-to-ashesxx @y-o-n-t-a @pastels-and-chaos @lilythefirst819x

@totalcharliespringsimp @moonysm @bartyjrsevan @thatdambreadcat @prongsbitch

@bleep-bloop-boo @ivysfandoms @pangothepangolin @mentally-unstable-childofhades @im-ur-sleep-paralysis-demon

@noahher @bonksyoucutely @yourlocalbadgerscales @last-great-all-american-bitch @moonyswarmsweaters

@mo0ns-and-stars @winnienora14 @undergroundglendower @lovemike0 @enbysiriusblack

@ros3kill3r @beauty-queen-official @reggiesswimteacher @the-marauders-are-ghosts @a-great-tragedy

@prideandfanfics18 @wastingawayinmyroom @cheekyboybeth @sunnysolace7 @gems-and-jewels

@hehenorahhehe @stars-on-my-bedroom-ceiling @zombie404 @hunterofartemis-12 @anything-for-my-moony-1971

@onlytenstarsinthesky @fiveguysshake @regulus-cannot-swim @ddanthedumbass @damsnackbar03

@reggiesswimminginstructor @williamgayers @fangirlghost-19 @blueandyellow7 @martukyymm

@im-on-crack-send-help @thearcher1003 @liggy-not-potter @queerthirsttrap @piedpiperlikesthings

@outromoony @garden-of-runar @obsessedwith15deadwizards @lilcri84b1 @cafffeineconnoisseur

@wishiknew224 @daydream-of-a-wallflower @swiftlybyler @throwbackgaylor @james-potter-yall

@chaserofstars11 @rudamaruda520 @marylily-my-beloved @thedvilsinthedetails @jamespotterbbg

@onlymelonlyy @ratsinpots @idk-what-to-put-here-123 @discoveredreality @mysticalthingphantom

@starchaserandsunseeker @notmybabies @vampiregirlsblog @byler-invested @androgynous-bhajipav

@miseryoforpheus @ghostofyourvampiregf @besthingiveverdone @rhettaisokay @rhysthedarkforestfey

@p3arlsgardenn @dakarihopsrealities @staringathesunbabe @pumpkin-gizzards @themortalityofundyingstars

@morninggloryrising @longtallglasses @deadchaoticcosmos @stranger-theory @ollieolioly

@gaysforbyler @greentealycheejelly @leodores @my-beloved-fandoms @imaddticedtobyler

@my-castles-crumbling @internal-organs58 @questionablebookmouse @the-lionsheart @normal-is-a-raging-psychopath

@starpupsys @supercitofus @willbyerslove @strawberrybyers @wakeupthemembersofbylernation

@justremuslupininamask @sweetronancer @willbyersoffical @e-reblogs @bylertruth3r

@fire-but-ashes-too

[lunarbuck]

Jane!! I'm so excited for you and your 1.5k followers! Thanks for letting me be part of the things. In an effort to help you pick back up with BFB!Bucky, do you think we can see some sexy times? Maybe early on when they're still keeping it a secret?

I'm sorry i've made you wait like over a year for anything from this AU 😭 I hope you enjoy this!!!

moodboard is for vibes only, not what reader looks like

Thinking This Through

pairing: bfb!buck x f!reader (any race)

wc: 1.7k

summary: A secret night with Bucky (from his POV)

warnings: secret relationship, fluff, pet names [pretty girl, baby, boo bear], oral (f receiving), smut (p in v), swearing

a/n: this part takes place before part 2 so it's technically out of order!! it's also in bucky's pov which was fun :)))

series masterlist | au playlist | my masterlist | 1.5k sleepover Title is a lyric from the 1975's song I'm in Love With You

I catch her eye from across the bar and find myself smirking into my beer. No matter where she is, no matter how many people are in the room, I always manage to find her. It’s like she fucking calls to me, a siren singing her beautiful song to lure me in.

Well fuck it, I don’t care if she’s a siren. I want her all to myself. 

Some girl slides up next to me, getting way too close for comfort, and batts her long eyelashes at me. “You wanna buy me a drink?” She asks, tossing her hair over her shoulder. I can tell she bleaches it too much; it looks fried. 

“Not really,” I reply, not caring to soften my tone for this girl. Maybe before I would’ve bought her one, maybe I would’ve entertained whatever this girl is trying to accomplish, but not anymore. Not since Becca’s gorgeous best friend turned my world upside down.

“You sure?” I feel the girl’s long, manicured fingers squeeze my arm, and I have to bite back the urge to tell her I’m taken. We’re not telling people yet. Neither of us are ready for the consequences of Becca finding out. 

“He’s sure,” Steve says, patting me on the back. The girl rolls her eyes as Steve shoos her away, but I don’t bother watching her leave. My eyes are back on the only girl I want to see tonight and every night.

She smiles at me brightly before her friend snags her attention again. Steve orders us another round as I text her. I want her with me tonight; I don’t care where we end up. I just want us together.

Bucky: You got plans after this, pretty girl?

Boo Bear: hm… i’m not sure yet

Bucky: Boo Bear? Really?

Boo Bear: i’m surprised it took you this long to notice

Bucky: anyways, i’ve decided you have plans we’re going home together in 20 minutes. 

Boo Bear: becca’s hanging out with ethan tonight, she said she won’t be home until after her class tomorrow morning

Bucky: perfect, see you in a few, boo bear

I try not to smile too hard at my phone, especially with Steve standing right next to me. He’s caught me practically kicking my feet while I text her way too many times. It’s becoming a problem at this point. 

Steve and I shoot the shit for a bit, and I pay my tab, shooting off another text to my girl, letting her know to meet me across the street. A few minutes later, I see her exit the crowded bar. She looks fucking fantastic, good enough to eat. Her jeans are tight in all the right places, and her top shows off enough skin to make my mouth water.

I never get over how perfect she looks, no matter what she wears or where we are. I don’t know how I held off for so long; I’m addicted now. 

“Hey, boo bear,” I whisper once she’s close enough. I tug her close and breathe her in, pressing a kiss to her neck. 

“Hey, Buck.”

The second the door shuts behind us, I’m on her. I press her against the wall, loving how soft she is against my body. Her hands grip my shirt, nails gently scraping against my chest. I kiss her deeply, tasting her.

“You’re gonna kill me, Buck,” she whispers, nipping at my lip. I dip my head, kissing along the soft skin of her neck as my hands trace down her body. I hook my arms under her legs and pick her up, wrapping her legs around my waist. 

“You got it all wrong, pretty girl. You’re gonna be the death of me.” I walk us to the couch and sit, positioning her on my lap, and she immediately grinds her hips against me, drawing a groan out of me. 

I tug at the bottom of her shirt until she lifts her arms, letting me pull it over her head, and I bite back a moan at the sight of her in just her bra and tight jeans. My lips immediately attack her collarbone, biting and nipping a trail down to her perfect tits.

She watches me, lips parted, as my hands find their way to her back, undoing the clasp on her bra. When I pull the garment away, she shivers, and I practically come in my goddamn pants. 

“I love when you look at me like that,” she whispers, fingers tugging at my hair. I take one of her nipples in my mouth, running my tongue over the bud. She gasps, gripping me tighter. 

While I tease her with my mouth, my left hand traces her skin, the metal cool against her heated body, and my right finds the button on her jeans.

“Pants. Off, Now,” I tell her.

“Ooh, Caveman Bucky is coming out to play,” she teases, standing on shaky legs to strip her jeans off. I shift until I’m sitting on the edge of the couch, my eyes level with her belly, and gaze up at her. 

She’d never believe her if I told her, but she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. 

I run my fingers along the band of her panties; she’s ticklish there, before I tug them down her legs. “You’re wearing too many clothes, Buck,” she tells me, reaching for my shirt. I let her pull it off of me, my jeans following soon after, and before I know it, I have her pressed into the couch with my head between her legs. 

I love the way she grips my hair, showing me exactly what she wants while I eat her out. My hips grind against the couch, seeking any sort of friction I can find. I work her up with my tongue and fingers, desperate to feel her come.

Her face twists up, and she makes these beautiful breathy sounds, and I know she’s close. “Come on, baby, come for me,” I practically grunt, circling her clit the way she likes.

She comes with my name on her lips, and I can’t help but smile, knowing I’m the one that gets to do this to her, the one that gets to have her like this. I shift off the couch and pick her up, carrying her to her room. 

I settle her onto the bed, kiss her until she’s breathless one more time, and run out into the main room to grab our clothes. We can never be too careful. Once I’m back, I pounce on her. I’m starving when it comes to my girl. I can never get enough.

“Please, Bucky,” she whines when I settle myself between her legs. She can feel how much I want her, how badly I’m aching for her, but I need her to beg a little more.

“Come on, baby,” I whisper. She knows what I want her to say.

“Fuck, Bucky, please fuck me.” I grin and sit up, watching her writhe on the bed. I fucking love her like this.

“You want me to fuck your pretty pussy?” I ask her, running my thumb over her sensitive clit. 

“Please, please, please,” she chants, giving in to the feeling. 

“Your wish is my command, baby.” I line my cock up with her and slowly press in, gritting my teeth at how tight she is. Once I’m fully inside her, I don’t move slow; I don’t give her much of a warning before I set a quick, deep pace.

I kiss her all over, needing to feel her everywhere. Her hands grip my back, scratching her nails against my skin, and I love that I’ll probably have marks tomorrow. Steve’ll probably give me shit, but I can’t wait. 

I lose myself in fucking her, in pouring myself into the beautiful girl below me. She’s blissed out, loving the pleasure I give her. I press deeply inside of her, making her moan. She clenches around me, and I know she’s close again.

I help her turn over, lifting her hips into the air. She settles her upper body onto the mattress, and I have to groan at how perfect she looks like this. Gripping her hips, I press back into her and fuck her, my dick hitting deeper inside her in this position. 

She’s a bumbling mess, moaning incoherently, and a sense of pride bubbles up in me. I know I won’t last much longer, so I reach around and find her clit again, bringing her back up to her peak.

“Come on, pretty girl.” She presses her hips against me, begging me to keep going. “I know you wanna come again; you wanna come all over my dick, don’t you?” She nods even though her face is pressed into the mattress.

“Yes, Bucky.”

“Then come for me, baby. I wanna see you come on my cock.” I fuck her harder, picking up the pace on her clit, and a few moments later, she comes hard, sending me over the edge right along with her. 

Together, we collapse onto the bed, and I pull her close, needing the skin to skin contact. I know I need to get up and grab a towel so I can clean her up, but right now, this is where I need to be. I need to be wrapped up in my girl.

As we’re catching our breath, I hear the front door click open, and the familiar sound of my sister’s voice rings loudly through the apartment. I roll my eyes as I stand, looking for my boxers. I look over at my girl and see her frantically searching for her phone. When she grabs it, she shows me a text from Becca saying that since Ethan’s roommate is home, they’re coming back here.

I stifle a laugh; we always have shit luck with this stuff. We settle back into bed and wait for Becca and Ethan to find their way into Becca’s room, but in the meantime, I enjoy cuddling with my beautiful girl.

I want to go public. I want to tell Becca. I hate all this secret stuff, even though it’s fun sometimes. Hopefully, she feels the same. I press a kiss to her forehead as she scrolls through her various social media apps and make sure she knows just how much I like being here with her.

please message me to be added to a taglist. must be 18+

general tags: @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @emi11ie @paulasocean @silverfire475 @lovingchoices14 @nekoannie-chan @late-to-the-party-81 @chibijusstuff @midnightramyeoncravings @wickidlady @buckyb-stan @adoreyouusugar

everything bucky tags: @peaches1958 @prettylittlepluviophile @writerwrites @w0nderw0mansw0rld @hawsx3 @meetmeatyourworst @harrysthiccthighss @goldylions @late-to-the-party-81 @luxeavenger @cloudyfeelin @searchf0rtheskyline @keliiiiiiii @urmom4130

series tags: @peaches1958 @prettylittlepluviophile @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @enchantedbarnes @writerwrites @beefybuckrrito @thatblackravenclaw @cloudyfeel @broco8 @searchf0rtheskyline @itsashleektchm @emmabarnes

[scotfraweek]

It’s here guys! The long awaited list for ScotFra Week! Thank you to those of you who voted on the poll/form

I hope you guys like the list I created. I had to really think this through and really decide how I wanted to organize the Themes/Prompts in a way that would not only make sense but that would be interesting and bring out your creative and imaginative ideas to the event.

Now without any further ado, here they are

🌹Day 1 - October 20

Soulmates / Reincarnation

“Maybe we make it in another universe/life”

“Have we met before?”

High School Sweethearts

Differences Attract

❤️Day 2 - October 21

Humanverse VS Fantasy

“We can build something new, for us.”

“Have you ever wondered, of what could’ve been?”

Long-Distance Relationship

🌹Day 3 - October 22

A/B/O or Pirates/Merfolk

“I was here first!”

“Is this what you want?”

Unplanned Pregnancy

Jealousy

❤️Day 4 - October 23

✨F R E E D A Y✨

Anniversary

🌹Day 5 - October 24

Horror / Supernatural (In honor of Halloween)

“Why is there so much blood?!”

“So everything you said was a lie?”

There was only one bed

Serial Killer/ Haunted House

❤️Day 6 - October 25

Artist/Fan or Detectives

“There was a slight miscommunication”

“You’ve never done this before, have you?”

Love = Weakness

Rivalry

🌹 Last Day - October 26

Angst/Hurt or Post Apocalypse

“Do you remember when…?”

“I trusted you!”

Character Death/Still Alive

The End of the World

🌹 Of course if you guys would like, you can mix and match. If a prompt from a different day fits your idea for one of the Themes, you are more than welcome to use it. You also can use more than one prompt if you wish as well!

❤️ Art, fics/one-shots and moodboards are all welcomed. Anything that you can use to express your imagination and creativity

✨How to submit your works✨

Just tag the account @scotfraweek as well as the #/ScotFraWeek2024 with your submission/post

✨R U L E S✨

Yes, there are rules guys… please follow them

I will not tolerate any bashing of other Hetalia Characters even if it is for the sake of your idea. Please be respectful of the other characters, I don’t want any fan-wars bc someone’s blorbo was bashed

Try to keep politics and actual life events to a minimum, no need for there to also be any actual hate/fighting during the event amongst participants.

I will say this only once, please to not use other artist’s/writer’s work to enter the event. All work must be solely yours. If someone calls you out for plagiarism, I will NOT be defending you, you’re on your own for that

Please, please, PLEASE, and I can NOT stress this enough, but absolutely no AI can be used for your submissions. Once again, all works must be unique and original. If your work requires AI, then it is NOT original. I will not reblog your work if i get the slightest hint of AI work, and believe me, I can tell

Please keep comments on other participants work friendly. Respect the other participant’s submissions for the event. If you do not like someone’s work for whatever reason — Block the user. I will not stand for any hate/bullying in other people’s post because their work did not meet your expectations. This also goes for spectators who will not be submitting work of their own.

Finally, have fun! This event is about showing love and creativity for the french bastard and his ginger himbo hubby. Bring out your creativity and your best suit!

Late submissions will still be accepted up to 3 days after the event is over!

‼️If you feel like another participant’s work is breaking the rules or is offensive towards you or anyone else, be sure to let me know so proper actions will be taken

📫The account’s inbox will be open for any questions or even ideas that you have in regards of the event!

💔I genuinely do apologize, I had truly intended to have this out a few days ago, but … things happen. I hope you are not too mad or upset with me

🤍 Can’t wait to see all your guy’s works next month, see you then!

@hetaliacalendar if you wouldn’t mind reblogging for a little signal boost pls 😭

[homocidalpotat]

100 followers milestone!

First off, I want to thank everyone who has got me to this number! I really appreciate every one of you and I'm glad I have created a blog that not only I enjoy, but all of you can too :3

As a celebration of my 100+ beloved followers, I'm making an ask game! I will separate it into two sections- followers and mutuals. If you follow me, you can send me an ask with some of the options in the follower section. If you're a mutual of mine, you can send me an ask from both sections. You can send me as many asks as you want.

I've themed it on European forests, with followers getting object and plant themes and mutuals getting animals.

Followers

Tree bark: I will give you a compliment

Fly agaric: Just get to know me a little bit! You can ask what my favourite colour is or something, tame questions like that

Pinecone: Assign me to a disney character

Maple leaf: I will pick a sweet treat to virtually give you that I think you'd like

Chicken of the woods: I will tell you whatever I'm thinking of at the time I respond to your ask

Tree sap: Recommend a fandom for me to get stuck into

Oak leaf: I will assign a totally random, off-the-top-of-my-head historical figure to you

Moss: I will tell you something reassuring

Pine needle: Give me some constructive criticism on anything

Mutuals

Red-crested woodpecker: We can chat/shout/hc/etc about a shared interest

Great tit: I will tell you an embarrassing story

Fox: Ask me a random question about me (if I don't feel comfortable asking, you can always ask me a different question)

Rabbit: I will send you a picture of Toby or one of my rabbits (Snuggles and Peter)

Squirrel: I will give you a random fact

Song thrush: I will assign a song to you that I think you will like/will fit your vibe. This might end up as me recommending a random song from my playlist...

Roe deer: I will make you a moodboard

Barn owl: I will show you a picture of something cool in my hoarde of stuff

Badger: Play a word game with me (20 questions, word association, etc)

Hedgehog: Give me a headcanon about me

Frog: I will give you a headcanon about you

BONUS FOR MUTUALS I INTERACT WITH A LOT

Nymph: I will plan out a day spent with you! (Or longer, you can specify) (e.g. we go to the mall and then we go to KFC or something)

(Credit to @strangergraphics and @saradika-graphics for the dividers)

Tagging my mutuals: @almosthumanjessi @animal-lover-forever @anglptera @anything-for-my-moony-1971 @bleep-bloop-boo @calypso10191 @chaoticgremlin-1 @cheekyboybeth (btw, thanks for helping me with setting this up, mum!) @dandelionflowery @dracosleftarsecheek @green-001 @here-am-i-sitting-in-a-tin-can @i-eat-so-much-grass @klondyke-the-bear @legaltrashgoblin @lemmeeatacrylicpaint @littlegayduck @maryland-officially @monarchofthequeerpotatoes @mushroom-music @nanochittle @names-confuse-me (love u ducky x) @nyx-taylors-version @onceinalifetimexperiencebuttwice @osmoticneuron @potato276 @ravenwordss @saintperseus @savj2003 @schistostegapennata @sentientballofpeas @silentprincessofhyrule @someone-kill-the-ej @that-dam-heartstopper-fan @touslin @thecrazyalchemist @theetherealraphael @unstableunicornsofasgard @uhmmmmaixllezhere @yourlocalbadgerscales @2xhbergggg @26mayflowers

LINK TO MAIN INTRO POST HERE!!!!

[no-brain-just-akutagawa]

heya i'm getting into bsd again and realized that you're the only bsd blog i follow 😭 would it be possible for you to recommend some good blogs? i assume you'd know a few, but sorry if this comes off as pushy or weird

Hiii! Thank you for the ask, I’m genuinely sorry for taking like a million years to answer it. It’s a really awesome ask, so don’t worry, it wasn’t pushy or weird! I know it may have seem as though I didn’t like it since it took me good 2 months to get to it, but I really appreciate it and I was simply busy with real life stuff. Feel free to always ask me about cool blogs to follow, I’m more than happy to give my mutuals and other creators a shout out!

I listed some of my personal favourite blogs alphabetically to make it a bit more organized haha

For the tagged creators: I provided little descriptions for some of the creators listed here, but if I accidentally messed something up, just let me know and I’ll change it. Also don’t worry if you’re on the list without a description, it just means I didn’t know how to put my appreciation into words.

@akutagawah – edits

@awkwardbsd – general bsd posting

@bapplebeess – fanart

@bemysillygoose – fanart

@canetteto – fanart

@carrotkicks – fanart. Has an analog horror series and different storylines, so if you’re interested in exploring different stories through fanart, this is your person

@choccatto – fanart

@creantzy – fanart. The creator of a really cool fan comic called The Path to Freedom and the Bernadette 2023 animatic (as a member of the fyolai nation, I absolutely adore their content)

@credensjustitiam – fanart

@dailynakaharachuuya – fanart

@dazaistabletop – general bsd posting

@deadmitochondria – memes. The only inactive blog on this list, but it’s worth it

@death-in-a-handbasket – fanart

@destructive-delight – fanart. If you like angst and horror vibes, you’ll absolutely LOVE it here

@dsskkrt-jpeg – fanart. The creator of the Nowhere to Run animatic (and overall a fyolai icon)

@emilylovescookies – fanart

@featherphoenixart – fanart

@flower-of-darkness – THE analysis queen

@fyodors-fancy-teacup – fanart

@greendy2l – fanart

@hant-huyant – fanart (though not really active on tumblr I think)

@hoshiumiumi – fanart

@imsofrancey – fanart

@inkantigen – fanart

@itotypes – fanart and fics. The creator of Mors Omni Vincit on ao3 (the pirate!au)

@iwritenarrativesandstuff – analyses

@kaus-quietis – my jojo sis. She did an incredible analysis of Fedya that’s a must read!!! She used to post fanart, but is now focusing on her studies (let’s gooooo)

@koiblossom5 – hilarious incorrect quotes.

@kokoasci – fanart

@kyouka-supremacy – general bsd posting. The president of sskk nation (not officially, but c’mon she deserves this title)

@marshukitty – fanart

@miammey – fanart and fics on ao3. One of the only people I’ve seen who does art of the Hunting Dogs, so if you’re interested in THD, Miam is a must follow

@mochimochips – fanart. One of the only artists who consistently make fanarts of Verlaine and Rimbaud (and that’s very rare in the fandom!)

@mr-vanhellis – fanart

@nnakahara – moodboards. Our favourite historian ♡

@nixnephilii – fanart. The creator of Fyo!Atsushi au, which nevel fails to make me gasp, because it’s incredible

@originalartblog – fanart. The creator of Goosamu (who is Dazai as a goose and is VERY dear to my heart), and a few other AUs

@phonyrams – fanart

@platykool – fanart. Some of my absolute favourite fanarts of Sigma! (and doa and bsd overall, but I really wanted to highlight Sigma)

@pleucas – fanart

@pompompurin1028 – fics. Some of the best, most in-character fics I’ve ever read. If you like Dazai, you’ll ADORE her fics.

@popopretty – an absolute MVP of this fandom. Translations, summaries and trivia

@rampopurin – analysis and general bsd posting. The science side of bsd fandom (if you wanna learn about space and science through bsd go follow!)

@rinqueraa – fanart

@sandyy-boo – fanart

@sensitiveheartless – fanart and fics. So many awesome AUs and comics (they’re listed in Senhart’s pinned post, so they’re really easy to find)

@slothfail – fanart

@tatooou-art – fanart

@tecchous-thicc-buttocks – incorrect quotes

@tunamayuuu – fanarts. The creator of kny!au

uwu-m1lk – fanart

wrenkos – fanart

PS. if any of you guys want to add more creators to the list, feel free to do so in the reblogs!

[seungkw1]

office hours – bsk {TEASER}

full fic out now!!

♡ pairing: boo seungkwan x afab!reader ♡ theme: college au, nonidol!au ♡ teaser wc: 0.8k ♡ warnings: none for the teaser but there will be smut in the full thing :) ♡ a/n: this whole thing is a highly self-indulgent fic so if reader is down horrendous for bsk… u know why

‧₊˚✩彡 moodboard by @myhimbomingi ‧₊˚✩彡

You fucking hate Tuesdays. 

There’s nothing actually wrong with your Tuesday schedule - on the contrary it’s probably the best day of the week in terms of lectures and extracurriculars. Your first class of the day, Developmental Psychology, doesn’t start til 11am, so you get to sleep in - always a win in your book. Afterwards you have an hour and a half break, usually spent by eating lunch in the student center and then a visit to the campus library to get some studying done. Then your 2pm Discussion for your Intro to Fiction class, followed by yoga at the gym - and since your work-study job at the Cognitive Research Lab doesn’t have you scheduled for Tuesdays, you get to go home right after. All in all, a pretty laid-back day in your hectic college life.

Except for that stupid 2pm Discussion. 

As a Psychology major you didn’t anticipate having to take any Literature courses, but you needed to fill an elective and Intro to Fiction had a reputation for being a fun, low-stakes course. It also fit conveniently into your Fall Semester schedule, so you signed up. Professor Mendoza turned out to be super nice and never gives any bullshit extra homework, and the assigned books have been surprisingly enjoyable. No, none of that is the problem. 

The problem is the hot TA you’ve inadvertently fallen in love with. 

Your first encounter with Seungkwan had been a bit embarrassing - the first week of the semester you somehow went to the completely wrong building, and even with speed walking you arrived to Discussion about 5 minutes late. You tried to sneak in quietly but the loud, creaky door hinge had other plans. Twenty-some pairs of eyes turned to stare at the idiot latecomer, but the pair you locked onto were the soft brown ones surrounded by long dark eyelashes, belonging to the blazer-wearing grad student standing at the front of the classroom. 

You would’ve been embarrassed in this situation anyway, but the unexpected eye contact made your stomach drop and your face turn hot. You stood there for a few moments too long, before muttering a feeble “sorry” under your breath as you made your way to the only empty seat in the room - which of course was located at the very front, immediately before the TA. You quickly took your seat and pulled out a notebook (not even the right one, but you were too frazzled to notice). The TA, whose name you missed due to being late, resumed his lecture. You started writing down everything he was saying - definitely not necessary, but you were doing your best to focus without looking up. 

Your face eventually stopped burning up, but this classroom was particularly warm and stuffy. You set down your pen and took your cardigan off, hanging it over the back of the chair. Mindlessly looking up, you look at the TA for the first time since sitting down. He too had discarded his outerwear - the muted brown herringbone blazer now laying aside on the teacher’s desk upon which he was leaning. His dark brown shoes matched his dark brown pants - which weren’t tight but certainly hugged his thighs nicely, but you tried not to think about that - and he was currently rolling up the sleeves of his medium gray button down - and you definitely tried not to think about that. You put your head back down and focused on your note-taking, transcribing everything without actually processing any of what he said. This was all very strange for you - sure some of your past TAs had been nice looking, but why was this particular one making you this flustered? 

The clock ticked on at an unbearably slow pace. You took your notes and paid no attention, not joining in on the conversation even once. You just have to make it through the hour, you kept telling yourself. But the hour seemed to never end. 

You snap out of it as the TA finally wraps up the class. 

“Don’t forget to read through chapter 5,” he reminds everyone. You realize you don’t even know which book you’re supposed to be reading, but it’s too late to ask now - you’ve looked like enough of a fool today already. Quickly packing your bag, you try to make your escape but as you are heading toward the door the TA calls out to you. Shit.  

“I just need to get your name - for attendance,” he tells you as you turn back around. 

“Oh… yeah,” you reply. You silently curse yourself for how stupid you sound. You tell him your name and he makes note of your attendance in his notes. You try to escape again but not before he sticks his hand out to you. 

“Seungkwan,” he introduces himself. You make the mistake of looking into those big round doe eyes again. He was even more beautiful up close. SHIT. 

You shake his hand, trying to do so as quickly as possible, but he has a very strong grip. 

“Nice to have you in class,” he says warmly. 

“Nicetomeetyoutoo!” you reply, taking your hand back and turning to dart out the door before he can get another word in. 

You don’t look back, so you don’t see how his eyes are glued to you as you hurriedly exit the classroom. 

{to be continued...}

—

likes & reblogs much appreciated ♡

[y-ves]

⠀⠀. (>。<)　　 parallel　　 🌟　 　⁺　　 ✧

🪐 　∿ universe ₊˚

by @y-ves

ENTER : universe #1

   ⊹    ⠀(ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)     intro

this event is a thank you for 2k fllws 💌 I am incredibly grateful for everything :)

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻

ENTER : universe #2

   ⊹    ⠀(ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)     abt

in this event ! i want you to reimagine what idols would be like if they were in different groups ! how taeyeon would have been in red velvet , how mark lee in monstax ~ you get the idea !

the catch is , you only get to imagine mingyu and jaemin ( and maybe my other bg ults )

k girl blogs , if you are strictly a girls only blog and have something against male idols for some reason please mention it so that i can give you a female idol . do keep in mind that I will give 100% preference bg moodboards only

ENTER : universe #3

   ⊹    ⠀(ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)     how 2 play

send an ask to @yujinszn with your fav kpop song !

i will assign you either mingyu/jaemin or a bg idol and a release by a kpop group

eg : if u get ( mingyu & peak a boo by red velvet ) then you have to make a moodboard imagining how mingyu would have been in that era !

so basically , how an idol would have been in a different groups era :)

ENTER : universe #4

   ⊹    ⠀(ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)     things to remember

reblog this post and tag 5 mb accs

must tag me in moodboard

use : #parallel!universe

deadline is 8th Nov !

ENTER : universe #5

   ⊹    ⠀(ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)     bonus points ?

if you use song lyrics in locs ( + 2 )

you edit your own gifs ( + 8 )

you edit your own icons ( + 8 )

you use your own dividers OR locs ( + 2 )

this is to promote originality ! whatever criteria you meet , please mention in comments of YOUR mb

example : jaemin in maverick by the boyz

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻

EXIT : universe #227

   ⊹    ⠀(ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)     outro

incase anything is too difficult please let me know and I'll allow some changes for you ! 🌟 thank you so much again :) i hope you enjoy this event 💟

[mac-lilly]

Ghostwriter moodboard for Juke Jeudi

I feel like I already posted this snippet but anyway ...

Shaking her head, Julie grabs the jam jar and closes the door. There’s no such thing as ghosts.

She turns, and suddenly, he’s there again, not in the fridge anymore. He’s so close – their noses are almost touching.

Julie freezes. Her grip on the jar slackens. It slips out of her hands and hits the ground, glass splintering into pieces. Jam spills over the floor. It seeps into the cracks between the boards.

Julie doesn’t notice. Neither does he. A big grin stretches his face. His eyes twinkle with mischief.

“Boo!”

Julie screams.

So does he.

Julie leaps back.

So does he – except there’s no fridge behind him to catch him. There’s just a window. He stumbles, and Julie’s breath hitches in her throat. She should warn him. She should rush to his help. But she can’t move. Horrified, she can only watch as he tumbles right through the windowpane.

“Oh fuck!” She finally snaps out of her shock and dashes to the window. Her heart’s pounding in her chest. Her fingers dig into the wood of the window as she peers outside. But the angle is all wrong. She can’t see the pavement. She’s about to open the window, fingers already fumbling with the latch, when a voice interrupts her.

“Don’t bother.” Julie whirls around. He’s in her kitchen again, sitting on her counter. “I’m dead. And I can’t leave this place anyway. Believe me, I tried.” His easy smile is gone now. He’s frowning at her. “You hear me.”

Julie just stares.

“And you see me?”

Julie continues to stare.

Nope, that’s not happening. Uh-uh. Ghosts, let alone cute ghosts, don’t exist. That’s crazy.

She must have mumbled that last bit aloud because the ghost’s face suddenly lights up. “We’re all a little crazy.” He winks at her.