#please for the love of god he can’t just choose to be something he ISN’T!!!!!

[azriaann]

every time they refer to natsu as human i lose 10 years off my life

[goldfades]

HAUNTED BY YOU──FATHER MAYHEW

part two!!!!!!!!

─ summary | father mayhew is being tormented by dreams of a worshiper at the church, who appears both angelic and temptingly sinful in his visions. as the dreams grow more intense, he begins to wonder if they’re a sign from above or a test of his faith. when you confront him, father mayhew must choose between maintaining his distance or giving in to the passion that’s been haunting him

─ pairing | father charlie mayhew x fem!reader

─ warnings | nsfw under the cut! mdni! wet dreams (strong start! i know!), description of self-pleasuring, oral (m!receiving), heavy degradation,hair-pulling, just overall rough sex, orgasm denial

─ ev's notes | like everyone and their damn mom, i've fell under nicholas's damn curse and i just had to come back to tumblr for this very self-indulgent fic. this is just porn with a lot plot LMAOOO. BUTTTTT my requests are open if you wanna send anything in! (please do btw i'm obsessed w nicholas LMAO)

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

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Father Charlie had always believed in the purity of dreams.

They were, in his mind, the unfiltered whispers of God—or at least, they had been. Lately, those whispers had been replaced by something far more sinful, and the dreams that used to bring him peace now left him gasping for air, tangled in sheets soaked with guilt and lust.

It started a few weeks ago, innocently enough.

You—a devout presence in the church, never missing a Sunday mass—had always caught his eye, but only in the way a shepherd might glance over his flock. He admired the way they knelt at the altar, the reverence in your bowed head, the delicate movements as you lit a candle in prayer. He told himself it was only admiration. But then the dreams began.

At first, they were fleeting images: your hands, fingers brushing over rosary beads, your doe eyes glancing up at him, lingering just a moment too long. He could dismiss them as nothing more than his mind playing tricks on him, the remnants of a long day.

But the dreams grew more vivid, more demanding. He saw you standing in the chapel late at night, a halo of moonlight casting a soft glow over your features, and when you turned to him, your gaze held something more than devotion. Something in between desperation and lust, something that was pure filth.

Charlie would wake in the dead of night, his chest tight with guilt and desire. He’d slip out of bed and kneel before the small wooden cross in his room, praying for guidance, praying for strength. But no matter how many Hail Marys he whispered into the darkness, the dreams persisted.

And now, they were getting worse.

Tonight, the dream came again, but this time, it was sharper—too real. You stood before him, just as you did every Sunday, but there was no congregation. Just the two of you, alone in the quiet sanctity of the church. He could hear your breathing, could feel the weight of your presence as they stepped closer, your fingers grazing over his. He swallowed hard, his throat tightening as they looked up at him with eyes that seemed to hold the weight of eternity.

"Father," you whispered, your voice soft but filled with something dangerous, something that made the blood in his veins run hot.

He wanted to look away, wanted to pull his hand back, but he couldn’t. Instead, he stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest as you moved closer, so close now that he could feel the warmth of your breath on his skin. You reached up, their fingers brushing lightly across his cheek, and he felt a shudder pass through him—half desire, half longing.

"Why do you run from this?" you asked, your voice a low murmur that echoed in the stillness of the church. "Why do you run from me?"

He swallowed thickly, words catching in his throat as he tried to speak. "This isn’t… I can’t…"

But before he could finish, you pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him with a touch so gentle it felt like a caress. "You don’t have to speak," you whispered. "You already know the answer."

With that, you kissed him—soft at first, almost testing, as if waiting for him to push you away.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he felt himself melting into the kiss, his resolve crumbling as you deepened it, your hands sliding over his chest, pushing aside the fabric of his cassock. The feel of their touch was electric, every nerve in his body alive with sensation as they explored his skin, your fingers leaving trails of fire wherever they roamed.

"Please..." he heard himself whisper, though he wasn’t sure if he was begging them to stop or to continue. His breath was ragged, his heart pounding in his chest as desire overwhelmed him

Your lips traveled down his neck, leaving a path of heat in their wake, and Charlie groaned despite himself, his hands moving of their own accord to grasp your hips, pulling them closer. You pressed against him, and he could feel the softness of your body against his, the intoxicating scent of your familiar perfume filling his senses.

He knew this was wrong. He knew he should stop, should pull away and regain control of himself, but he couldn’t. His mind was clouded with lust, his body betraying him completely as your hands continued their exploration, your touch driving him to the brink of madness.

"Let go," you whispered, your breath hot against his skin as you slid a hand lower, your touch eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him. The pleasure was overwhelming, surging through him like a wave as you stroked him, you movements slow and deliberate, coaxing him closer and closer to the edge.

Charlie’s grip on the altar tightened as he felt himself losing control, his body trembling with the force of his desire. He wanted more, needed more, and you seemed all too willing to give it to him, your lips pressing against his once again as your hand moved faster, pushing him closer and closer to release.

When it came, it was like an explosion of heat and pleasure, washing over him in waves that left him gasping for breath. He clung to you, his body shuddering with the intensity of it all, his mind spinning in a haze of ecstasy and guilt.

And then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over.

Charlie woke with a start, gasping for breath, his body tangled in sweat-soaked sheets. His heart raced, pounding violently in his chest as the remnants of the dream clung to him, vivid and inescapable. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to shake the images from his mind, but they lingered—soft touches, whispered words, the sensation of heat curling through him in ways it shouldn’t.

It had been more than a dream. It was more sinful, more explicit, and far too real. His skin still burned from where you had touched him, your hands roaming over his body with an intimacy that made his chest tighten with guilt. His throat was dry, aching, but not with thirst—no, with something far deeper and darker.

"God," he muttered, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. "Please..."

He shifted under the blankets, feeling the undeniable evidence of his arousal—a sickening reminder of what had transpired in the dream. Shame washed over him like a cold tide, dousing the warmth that had gripped him so fiercely only moments ago. He didn’t dare move, his entire being consumed by regret and disgust.

He couldn't believe he came from the mere thought of you. It was sickening—he felt like a teenager all over again. How could he have let this happen? How could his mind, his very body, betray him like this?

Your face flickered in his mind again—those eyes, filled with longing and desire, the way you had smiled at him, that wicked, knowing grin. It hadn’t been innocent, not in the least. You had touched him in ways he had never been touched in a while, ways he wasn’t supposed to experience again.

He threw back the covers, the cool air in the room hitting his overheated skin as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. His feet hit the floor with a soft thud, and for a moment, he simply sat there, head in his hands, struggling to regain some semblance of control.

A priest wasn’t supposed to feel this way. He wasn’t supposed to be consumed by desire, least of all for someone so... unattainable. Someone who had come to him for guidance, for spiritual comfort, not for whatever this had been.

He stood, shaking, the cold of the room biting into him. He needed to calm himself, to pray, to wash away the evidence of his sin.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t forget the dream. Couldn’t forget the way it had felt—the warmth, the pleasure, the ache of it all.

Father Charlie whispered a desperate prayer under his breath as he padded to the bathroom. As the water ran cold over his skin, he prayed again for strength—for a release from this burden that had taken hold of him.

But deep down, the fear gnawed at him: what if this wasn’t the last time? What if he wasn't strong enough to resist?

He shivered at the thought.

──

Father Charlie stood by the doorway of the church hall, his gaze sweeping over the room. The sounds of children’s laughter and the murmur of conversations filled the air as parents and volunteers mingled. It was a typical event—one that should’ve had his attention focused on the joyful chaos before him

But his focus was elsewhere.

You sat at a table on the far side of the room, your attention seemingly on the children around you, but there was an unmistakable shift in the air between the two of you. His eyes kept being drawn back to you, despite his efforts to look elsewhere, to find something—anything—that might distract him from the growing heat in his chest and the tightness in his pants.

Then, you slipped the bright red lollipop between your lips, the movement slow, deliberate, and utterly intoxicating. It was a seemingly innocent gesture, one that any onlooker might dismiss, but Charlie saw it for what it was—a silent taunt, a temptation that you knew he couldn’t tear his gaze from.

His throat tightened as he watched you, your eyes flicking up to meet his, a playful glint dancing behind them. You held his gaze as you swirled the candy in your mouth, the exaggerated motion sending a jolt of excitement and heat straight through him. It was subtle enough to avoid drawing attention from anyone else, but the intent behind it was clear.

You were tempting him. And he knew it.

Charlie clenched his jaw, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the back of a nearby chair. He felt torn between his duty—his responsibility to maintain control, to be the figure of moral guidance he was supposed to be—and the way his body reacted to you, the way desire simmered just beneath his skin.

You smirked around the lollipop, letting it slip slowly from your mouth before you spoke to the child beside you, your voice light and innocent. But your eyes remained locked on his for a beat longer, the unspoken tension hanging in the air.

Father Charlie turned away quickly, trying to suppress the fire burning through him. He felt as though he were in a battle with himself—a war between the man he was and the desires that he struggled to keep buried. His mind raced with guilt, knowing that this tension—this attraction—was something he should never indulge.

But when he glanced back at you, and saw the way your plump lips wrapped around the candy once more, his breath caught in his throat. The world around him—the event, the children, the laughter—seemed to blur into the background as you continued to play this dangerous game.

Every gesture, every glance, felt like a carefully orchestrated tease, one that made it impossible for him to look away, even though he knew he should.

Charlie’s heart pounded in his chest, the temptation pulling at him stronger than it had ever been before. He couldn’t let this go on, he told himself. He needed to leave, to step away before he lost control entirely.

But no matter how hard he tried to convince himself to walk away, the sight of you sitting there, sucking on that lollipop with a mischievous glint in your eye, held him captive.

He let out a sigh, feeling his pants tighten once more. He glanced down, there was a noticeable bulge poking out.

With a sharp inhale, he tore his gaze away from you and pushed himself toward the nearest exit, keeping his movements as natural as he could manage. His skin burned with shame as he walked, the feeling of his pants tightening only making his predicament worse. He kept his head low, praying no one would stop him on his way out.

Or worse, see the issue at hand.

The corridor leading to the church bathrooms was mercifully empty, the laughter and conversations fading behind him as he moved quickly toward the door marked Men. His steps were hurried, and by the time he reached the bathroom, his breath was ragged.

Charlie shoved the door open and stepped inside, locking it behind him. He leaned against the sink, gripping the edges tightly as he tried to collect himself. His reflection in the mirror showed a man torn between the roles he was meant to fulfill and the raw human desire threatening to break through.

The bulge in his pants hadn’t lessened, and the sight of it brought another wave of heat crashing over him. He squeezed his eyes shut, as if that would block out the image of you, teasing and playful, with that lollipop in your mouth.

The temptation was too much, and he hated himself for it.

He couldn't think about you. He couldn't allow himself to dwell on the way your lips had moved, or the sly glint in your eyes, or the overwhelming desire that had burned in the pit of his stomach. He needed to focus. To rid himself of this unbearable need before it consumed him entirely.

With shaking hands, Charlie fumbled at his belt, a silent prayer escaping his lips, though he doubted any words of faith could cleanse the guilt twisting inside him now. He fought to keep his mind blank, but the image of you kept resurfacing—your teasing smile, your suggestive glances, the way your mouth had played with that lollipop as if you knew exactly what it was doing to him.

His breath hitched as he unzipped his pants, his mind waging a losing battle against his body's demands. This wasn’t what he wanted—not really—but the heat, the tension, the pressure… it was all too much. He felt helpless, lost in a battle he had no hope of winning.

He cursed under his breath as his hand moved over the fabric, the friction both a release and a deepening source of guilt. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to keep silent, though the shame only made his body more desperate for relief. It wasn’t just physical; it was emotional, a chaotic mix of guilt, desire, and the thrill of crossing a line he had vowed never to approach.

His thoughts flickered back to the church hall, imagining you sitting there, your eyes still locked on his, your lips still playing that dangerous game. But instead of the lollipop, it was his cock instead. You were looking up at him with those doe eyes, the ones he could never get enough of.

This was wrong—so terribly wrong—but in this moment, nothing else seemed to matter.

A strangled sigh escaped him as the tension inside built toward its inevitable conclusion. His movements became more frantic, his mind clouded with both desire and self-loathing. He fought to suppress the groan rising in his throat, his body betraying him as he sought the release he knew would come all too quickly.

But before he could cum, he heard a knock. His eyes snapped open, his body shaking. But his movements didn't falter.

"Taken!" He groaned out, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"Father, it's me."

Charlie froze, his entire body going rigid at the sound of your voice. The very voice that had been the cause of his torment—the one that filled his thoughts during long, sleepless nights, and echoed in his mind during moments of prayer. Hearing it now, so close, made his stomach lurch with guilt and panic.

His hands were still trembling, his sticky arousal refusing to dissipate even as the cold wave of reality crashed down on him. He bit down on his lip, heart racing, his mind screaming at him to pull himself together. But the fact that you were standing just beyond the door, oblivious to the storm you'd stirred within him, made it impossible for him to think straight.

"Father?" your voice called again, this time with a soft, almost innocent lilt that twisted the knife deeper.

He swallowed hard, forcing his breathing to steady, though the heat in his chest hadn’t faded. His hand hovered over his zipper, shaking with the shame of what he had been doing just moments before. His body still ached with unresolved tension, but he pushed it down, trying to ignore the unbearable need that still pulsed through him.

"Yes?" His voice cracked as he finally spoke, hoarse and raw. He cleared his throat, trying to sound composed. "I... I’m a little busy at the moment."

There was a brief pause from the other side of the door, and he could almost imagine the look on your face—the innocent expression you always wore, one that belied the way you had been teasing him, testing him for weeks. You had to know what you were doing. There was no other explanation for it.

"Sorry, Father," you replied, your voice apologetic, but with that familiar hint of playfulness that made his pulse quicken. "I just... I wanted to talk to you. Is everything alright? You sounded a bit... off. You just ran off, and I was worried."

Worried? You knew damn well what you were doing.

His heart hammered in his chest. He wasn’t sure how to respond, especially when he could still feel the tightness in his pants, the shameful evidence of his struggle with temptation. He couldn’t let you see him like this. Not after what he had almost done. No, not almost—what he had done.

"I’m fine," he replied, the words rushing out too quickly. "Just—just give me a moment, please."

There was silence on the other side, and Father Charlie closed his eyes, cursing himself under his breath. He knew he needed to calm down, to suppress the lingering arousal that still throbbed through him, but it was nearly impossible with you standing just beyond the door, your voice echoing in his mind, a constant reminder of the desires he could no longer ignore.

"Okay, Father," you said after a long pause, your tone gentle, yet still laced with that underlying tease. "I’ll wait for you outside."

As soon as you spoke, he let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, his body slumping against the sink in a mixture of frustration and shame. He could still feel the tension coiled tightly in his core, but he had to ignore it now—had to push it down and find some semblance of control before he faced you.

Charlie adjusted his clothes quickly, forcing himself to focus on anything but the ache that still pulsed through him. He wiped the sweat from his brow, straightened his collar, and took a long, deep breath.

The door was still locked, but knowing you were just outside filled him with dread and anticipation in equal measure. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could withstand the temptation you had placed in front of him, but for now, he had to pretend. He had to keep up the façade of control, even as the cracks in his resolve grew deeper by the day

With one final glance in the mirror, Father Charlie steeled himself and turned the lock, pulling the door open to face the very source of his downfall.

And there you were, standing just a few feet away, your eyes wide and innocent—though he knew better than to believe it was all innocence. You were a temptation he could barely resist, and every interaction only pulled him further into the darkness he'd been desperately trying to avoid.

"Is everything alright, Father?" you asked, tilting your head slightly, that sweet, familiar smile on your lips. But your eyes—those teasing eyes—held a glimmer that set his heart racing once more.

"Y-yes," he stammered, his throat tight, doing everything in his power to keep his voice steady. "Everything’s fine."

But as you looked up at him, your gaze lingering just a moment too long, Father Charlie knew this battle was far from over.

Your eyes glanced down at his pants, his bulge evident. Your eyebrows rose as you blinked up at him, the same teasing smile on your plump lips. "You don't look fine, Father."

The way you said his title almost made his knees buckle. He couldn't handle it, not anymore. "What do you think?" He snapped.

Your teasing smile widened, clearly pleased by the crack in Father Charlie's composure. His words, harsh and unsteady, only seemed to encourage you. You took a small step closer, the space between you shrinking as the tension in the air thickened, palpable and dangerous.

"What do I think?" you repeated, your voice soft and sweet, but laced with a knowing edge that sent another jolt through him. "I think you’ve been struggling, Father. I can see it in your eyes… feel it in the way you look at me."

He clenched his jaw, fists balling at his sides. Every instinct screamed for him to shut this down, to end the conversation and walk away before he did something he could never take back. But the heat burning in his chest, the tightness in his pants, and the way you gazed up at him with those teasing, taunting eyes made it impossible for him to think clearly.

His breath hitched, his throat tightening as he tried to keep his voice level, to maintain the last threads of control he still had. "You... need to leave," he muttered through gritted teeth, though the command sounded more like a plea. He took a step back, trying to put distance between you, but his back hit the wall, trapping him in a corner.

You didn’t follow him, but your eyes stayed locked on his, your lips parting ever so slightly as you spoke again. "Do you want me to leave, Father?" you asked, your voice dripping with temptation, your tone making it clear you knew the answer before he could even speak.

He opened his mouth to respond, to say yes, to do what he knew was right, but the words wouldn’t come. His body betrayed him, still trembling with the aftermath of the temptation he had barely controlled just moments ago. The guilt twisted deeper in his chest, but with you standing there, so close, so dangerous, he couldn’t bring himself to push you away.

You took another small step forward, your eyes flicking down once more to the bulge straining against his pants. "You don’t look like you want me to go," you murmured, your voice low and intimate.

The way you said it, so confidently, so calmly, broke something inside him. His breathing quickened, the shame mixing with desire in a way that left him dizzy and unable to think straight. His hands itched to reach out, to grab you, to pull you closer, but he forced them to stay at his sides, his knuckles white from the effort of holding back.

"Fuck," he got out before he finally grabbed your wrist. "You know exactly what you're doing, don't you?"

You didn't respond, just stared back at him with a smirk. "What you mean—"

"Shh, shut up. Just shut up," Father Charlie got out as his grip on your wrist tighten. He looked around the empty corridors and pulled you into the bathroom, practically pushing you into it. He slammed the door behind him, locking it.

The slam of the door echoed through the small bathroom, the sound sharp and final. Father Charlie stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he fought to keep a grip on himself. The small, dimly lit space felt suffocating, the walls closing in as the tension between you thickened, charged with unspoken desire.

You leaned back against the sink, your expression still playful, teasing, as if you held all the power in this twisted game. And maybe you did. You watched him, your smirk never fading, as his eyes darkened with lust, the lines between what was right and what he wanted blurring faster than he could stop them.

"Father," you whispered, your voice lilting, almost mocking as it dripped with the weight of temptation. "We really shouldn't—"

"I told you to shut up," he growled, cutting you off. His voice was rough, raw with the conflict tearing him apart. But his body betrayed him, his hands trembling as he reached out, fingers wrapping around your arm with a grip that was both desperate and unsteady.

For weeks, he had tried to deny it—to push down the thoughts, the fantasies, the overwhelming pull of desire you had stirred within him. But now, standing here with you, the air thick with temptation, he felt like a man on the edge of a cliff, teetering between control and the abyss.

"Do you think this is a game?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous, though you could hear the tremor beneath it. He stepped closer, towering over you, his body radiating heat. "Do you think I don’t know what you’ve been doing? The looks, the way you talk to me, the way you… tease me?"

You met his gaze, unflinching, your smile widening. "Maybe it is a game," you said softly, tilting your head, eyes dancing with mischief. "But you’re the one who's playing along."

His grip tightened, his breath hitching as your words sank in. He hated how true they were. Every time he had looked at you, every moment his mind had wandered to the things he shouldn't have been thinking—he had been playing into this. And now, he was standing on the edge of a line he couldn’t afford to cross.

But he had already crossed it, hadn't he?

"Shut up," he whispered again, though this time his voice was weaker, the command laced with more desperation than authority. His free hand pressed against the wall beside you, his body leaning in closer, so close he could feel the heat radiating from your skin.

You tilted your chin up, eyes gleaming as you watched him struggle, as if you were daring him to let go of the last shreds of control he clung to. And maybe, just maybe, he wanted you to push him over the edge.

"Or what?" you whispered back, the challenge clear in your tone.

Father Charlie’s jaw clenched, his entire body tense as he wrestled with himself, his grip on you tightening. His breath was hot and ragged, his heart pounding in his chest as he stared down at you. For a moment, it seemed like he might pull back, that he might step away, regain the control that had been slipping through his fingers.

But then he kissed you.

It was sudden, rough, and filled with the weeks of pent-up desire he had been fighting so hard to contain. His lips crashed against yours, his hands pulling you closer, as if giving in to the temptation that had been haunting him was the only way to make the ache go away.

The kiss was hungry, desperate, and you could feel the conflict in every movement—how he both wanted this and hated himself for wanting it.

You moaned into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer. His hands slid up and down your back before suddenly finding your hair, pulling it back from the kiss.

"You're a whore," he gritted out as he gripped your hair impossibly rougher. "A whore in disguise, aren't you? You feign innocence but you're the most sinful in this Church."

Father Charlie's words were harsh, laced with anger and lust, but the grip in your hair sent a different message—desire and desperation. His brown eyes, dark and conflicted, bore into yours as he pulled you even closer, his breath hot against your skin. His control was slipping, unraveling faster with every second, and he knew it.

You smiled up at him, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. "If I'm sinful, Father, then what does that make you?" you asked softly, your voice teasing, daring him to continue.

He clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing at your words, a low growl escaping his throat as he yanked your head back, exposing your neck. "It makes me weak," he muttered, his lips ghosting over your skin. "Weak because of you. Because of the way you tempt me."

His mouth hovered just inches from your neck, his breath warm, his body pressed against yours, every movement charged with the weight of the forbidden. His hands, still tangled in your hair, trembled with a mixture of restraint and hunger.

"You're what’s wrong with me," he whispered, his voice hoarse, as if he were trying to convince himself of the words as much as he was trying to convince you. "You’ve dragged me down to your level. Made me forget everything I stand for. Everything I’m supposed to be."

But even as he spoke, his lips brushed your neck, leaving a trail of heated, fleeting kisses along your skin. His body moved on instinct, driven by the desire he could no longer deny.

Father Charlie's lips pressed harder against your neck, his breath ragged as his restraint dissolved. His words, filled with self-loathing, contradicted the urgency of his touch. Each kiss grew more desperate, more reckless, as if he were trying to bury the shame and guilt in the taste of your skin. His grip in your hair tightened, pulling you closer, and the tension between you ignited into something explosive, something neither of you could stop now.

His free hand roamed down your body, fingertips pressing into your waist, his touch both rough and reverent, like he was grappling with the weight of his own desire. Every brush of his hand, every kiss, was a betrayal of the man he had once been. But the way your body responded, the way you leaned into him, only fueled the fire burning inside him.

"God help me," he whispered against your collarbone, the words barely audible, as if he were speaking them to himself more than to you. But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

You let out a soft moan, your hands tangling in his hair, encouraging him to continue, to give in completely. His resolve crumbled further with every sound you made, every movement of your body against his. The line between right and wrong, between control and surrender, had long since vanished.

Charlie pulled back for a moment, his eyes wild, filled with a mix of anger, lust, and confusion. His chest heaved as he looked at you, torn between pushing you away and pulling you even closer.

"I hate you for this," he rasped, though the heat in his eyes betrayed the truth. "But I can’t stop. I can’t stop wanting you."

You smiled, a knowing, satisfied smile, as your hand slid down his chest. "Then don’t stop," you whispered, your voice dripping with seduction, coaxing him deeper into the darkness.

That was all it took. With a frustrated growl, he crashed his lips against yours again, harder this time, as if punishing both of you for the sinful desire you had ignited. His hands roamed freely now, no longer held back by hesitation or fear. There was only the raw, uncontrollable need consuming him.

Whatever consequences lay ahead, whatever guilt or shame waited for him on the other side of this moment, Father Charlie couldn’t bring himself to care. Not anymore.

Charlie yanked your hair back again, then stared into your eyes. Without warning, he pushed you to your knees roughly. "How about you do something useful for once, huh?" He muttered breathlessly.

You blinked back up at him, your hands finding their place on his hips. You moved slow and deliberate, which angered Charlie more. Charlie’s eyes darkened as he looked down at you, his grip on your hair tightening, pulling at your scalp just enough to make you gasp. The frustration in his gaze was palpable—fueled by your deliberate slowness, by the way you reveled in the power you had over him.

“You think this is funny?” he growled, his breath ragged as he watched you, his fingers digging into your scalp. His frustration was obvious, but beneath that anger was a raw, unquenchable desire. He hated how much control you had over him, how easily you made him lose himself.

You smiled up at him, slow and teasing, your fingers trailing over his hips, letting him feel the barest touch of your hands. “Maybe it is,” you whispered, eyes gleaming with mischief, enjoying every second of his torment. "At least, to me it is."

You could feel the tension radiating from him, the barely contained hunger in his every movement. Slowly, teasingly, you ran your hands lower, grazing over the bulge straining against his pants, earning a sharp intake of breath from him.

Charlie’s hand tightened in your hair as a low growl escaped his throat. “You think you’re so fucking clever,” he rasped, his voice low and dangerous, his grip on you firm as he stared down with a mix of lust and anger. “But you’re going to regret this.”

Your smirk widened, and without breaking eye contact, you undid his belt, letting it fall to the floor with a soft clink. His breath hitched as you slowly unzipped his pants, the anticipation thick between you, hanging in the air like a loaded weapon.

“Prove it,” you challenged, your voice a soft murmur as you looked up at him, daring him to follow through on his words.

For a moment, Charlie stood there, his chest heaving, torn between the overwhelming desire that had consumed him and the guilt gnawing at the edges of his mind. But the pull of temptation was too strong—too powerful to resist any longer.

With a grunt of frustration, he grabbed the back of your neck, forcing you forward as he freed himself. “I don’t care what happens after this,” he growled, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with lust and anger. “Right now, you’re mine. And you're gonna do what I fucking tell you.”

You barely had time to respond before he pushed your mouth onto his cock, rough and demanding, his hand guiding you with a forceful grip. The suddenness of it made your breath catch, but you quickly adjusted, falling into a rhythm as he set the pace, his body trembling with the intensity of his need.

You wrapped your lips around him, moaning. His cock was dripping with pre-cum, and your saliva made it messier—but neither of you cared. The bathroom was filled with the sounds of his ragged breathing, punctuated by the occasional low moan as you worked him with sloppy, measured motions. His hips thrust forward, pushing deeper, his control rapidly slipping away as he surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure.

Your mouth was so warm and inviting, he couldn't stop. This was what heaven felt like, he swore—there was nothing better than this feeling, the feeling of your sinful mouth.

Charlie’s hand tightened in your hair, pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your scalp as he lost himself in the moment, all thoughts of guilt or consequences forgotten. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely more than a growl as his head fell back, eyes fluttering shut. “You… you’re such a fucking tease.”

He pushed you until you were gagging around his cock, much to his dismay. "Take it, whore. This is what you wanted, right? For me to use you?"

Your eyes were watering and your jaw felt like it was going to break, but his mean words egged you on. You hummed around him, a wicked smile curling at the edges of your lips as you kept gliding up and down his cock.

But just as he was on the edge, just as the tension in his body built to an unbearable peak, he suddenly yanked you off him, breathless and furious, eyes blazing as he stared down at you.

“Get up,” he commanded, his voice low and guttural, barely holding onto the last threads of control. “Turn around, whore.”

You barely had any time to react before he turned you around to face the mirror. He bent you over the sink as you let out a whimper, before his hands found your hair again and yanked it up.

"Look at you," he murmured as he forced you to look at yourself.

Your hair was a mess, your mascara running down your doe eyes and your sticky cheeks and chin. You caught your breath as you glanced back to meet his eyes through the mirror.

He bent you completely over the sink and landed a sharp slap on your behind. You let out a yelp, shutting your eyes at the stinging feeling. "Fuck,"

"What? Is it too much now, baby?" Charlie spoke, his voice dripping with mockery. His lips were curved into a smirk as he tutted. "This is what you wanted, right?"

He didn't give you time to respond before leading the tip of cock to your folds. You felt his heavy tip on your sloppy entrance, practically begging to get fucked. He hadn't even gotten the chance to touch you properly and you were already soaked.

He hummed at the warm feeling before pushing inside. He let out a huff of air, his head falling back in pure ecstasy. "Oh, yeah," was all he could get out. Your hands found the edge of the sink, gripping it tightly as you let out a desperate moan.

Charlie pushed himself all the way in, bottoming you out within a few quick seconds. He didn't even let you adjust to his size before he began slamming you into roughly, the edge of the sink burying into your stomach.

His thrusts were sharp and relentless, he wasn't letting up anytime soon. You felt like you were on a different planet, the feeling of his cock was dizzying as your eyes rolled back into your head.

"O-oh, fuck!" You cried out as your head fell forward.

Charlie gripped your hips even tighter as he groaned with each slam of his own hips, his head falling back. Your cunt tighten around his cock, and he felt your release coming. One of his hands reached up to grip your head roughly.

"Don't you dare cum, not yet," He got out breathlessly as you tried your best to nod. "Do not cum."

You squeezed, holding off your orgasm as you were told. You didn't know if you could—but you knew the consequences would be dire, Charlie wasn't playing around anymore.

A few harsh slams and he was cumming deep inside you, his moans echoing in the small bathroom. He rode out his high, his grip in your hair not easing one bit. "Fucking take it,"

You whimpered as you tried to hold off your orgasm, tears falling from your eyes as you gripped the sink. Without warning, he slipped out of you.

Your eyes opened and you turned around to face him. "Charlie—"

He cut you off swiftly as he pulled his pants up. "You don't deserve it,"

"Deserve it?" You practically cried out. "I just let you fuck me and you're not gonna let me cum?"

Father Charlie just shrugged. "Whores don't get to cum."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[teamatsumu]

all eyes on you. (seijoh 4 x reader)

warnings: pure smut, not even an iota of plot, swearing, fem!reader, voyeurism, fingering, masturbation, implied group sex, slight degradation

word count: 1k

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead

“H-Hajime,” Your voice trembles and breaks, body arched and wound up tight. Your nails dig into his forearms enough to leave marks, but you’re not sure he minds, considering his fingers only speed up inside you and he moans deliciously in your ear.

Iwaizumi has your back against his chest, and your legs hooked over his. He spreads his legs, simultaneously spreading yours, his unoccupied arm wrapped tight around your waist to hold you in place and keep you nice and open for the three pairs of hungry eyes that are trained on your naked, sweaty body.

“Touch her clit,” Hanamaki whispers, his hand working over his own exposed cock. He is leaning back on the couch before you, looking more bored than anything, but his eyes are sizzling with heat, unblinking, and his hand on his cock is urgent. Your breath stutters, and you’re not sure if it’s because of his words or because Iwaizumi chooses that moment to curl his fingers inside you.

“Don’t tell me how to please my girlfriend.” Iwaizumi grunts back, free hand reaching up to cup at your breast almost possessively. Nevertheless, his fingers slide out of you with a wet squelch and reach up to toy at your engorged clit. Your legs jerk and you gasp at the change in sensations.

“Don’t get snarky, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa’s voice does not match the playfulness of his words. It is husky and low, and he too is playing with his erection. The head is deep pink and weeping with precum, proudly showing just how aroused he is. How can he not be? With the show Iwaizumi is using you to put on.

“She loves it so much, see? Look how pretty she looks.” Oikawa continues, voice turning softer now, more teasing. It almost doesn’t feel like a compliment. Like he is demeaning you, but it only turns you on even more. You can’t believe this is something you enjoy, the jeering way he was talking about you. Iwaizumi never did that. You whine, eyebrows creasing.

“She likes that.” Matsukawa somehow sounds just as sharp and teasing as Oikawa. He has been quiet this whole time, only watching. He hadn’t even undressed, choosing to instead stick his hand in his pants and slowly stroke over himself. Deep down, you longed to see his cock too, knowing because of the jokes the boys made over the years that he was more than well endowed. But you are too shy to voice your desire. You are already doing something you couldn’t have imagined in a million years.

“You assholes are lucky you’re even watching this.” Iwaizumi quipped. “Don’t be ungrateful.”

He keeps his fingers moving on your clit, unwinding his other arm from around you to fill up your empty hole again. You gasp and arch again, one arm reaching back to grip tight on his hair while the other continues clawing at his skin.

“Tell me how you feel, baby.” He coos, knowing you are getting closer.

“Tell us how you feel.” Oikawa interjects, grinning when Iwaizumi shoots him a glare. His hand speeds up, anticipating your release and wanting to reach his high at the same time.

“I-” You weep, tears escaping your eyes to coat your cheeks instead. “I- Hajime!”

“Sshh, I’ve got you.” Hajime kisses the skin just below your ear, a spot that he knows is sensitive. “You’re doing so good, baby. God, you’re so fucking beautiful. Everyone’s looking at you. You’re so sexy.”

“You are, Y/N-chan.” Oikawa speaks again. “Can’t believe I’ve never seen you like this before. Been missing out.”

“Wish it was me,” Hanamaki chimed in. “Wonder what your pretty pussy would feel like on my cock.”

“Watch it.” Iwaizumi warned, but you moaned loudly, clamping down hard on his fingers. Matsukawa snickered.

“You’ve got a whore on your hands, Iwa.” He commented. “She fucking loves the thought of it. Isn’t that right?”

He leans forward, hand moving faster and faster inside his jeans. His words shock you, he is so crass. But it sends a current zipping down your torso, settling like heat in the pit of your stomach. Iwaizumi rubbed hard against your clit, curling his fingers against your spot.

“You want their cocks?” Iwaizumi groans into the shell of your ear, picking up on how aroused you are getting. “You little slut. You’re not satisfied by just me. You’re not even satisfied by them watching. You need them to fuck you.”

You wail as you come, body winding tight as electricity runs up your spine and clutches tight at your lungs. You try to close your legs, to stop Hajime’s hands as they continue to abuse your sloppy pussy. He doesn’t let you, though. His legs hold yours in place as he watches your body writhe. There are groans and curses, as one man after another cums after you, reaching their limit at the sight of your undulating torso, your curled toes, your jaw slacked and your tears still flowing.

Iwaizumi finally pulls his fingers out, running his drenched hand over your sensitive cunt. You jump and whine, trying to push him away, but your weakened limbs are no match for him. He brings his hand down, spanking your pussy and making you yelp.

“Behave,” Iwaizumi nibbles at your earlobe. “Be nice. We have guests.”

Your eyes finally find your audience, their flushed cheeks and hazy eyes. You immediately notice the white that coats their cocks, their hands, some traveling up their bare fronts. You flush at the sight, and you feel something in your core stir again.

Iwaizumi pats your thigh, closing his legs and encouraging you to move. He manhandles you to face him, bringing your focus down to his still rock hard cock. Your breath hitches at the little smirk on his face.

“C’mon, baby. Take care of me. And if these idiots wanna keep watching, they’re welcome to.”

No one moves from the couch, straightening to eye the show you will put on next.

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

You know how in the movie, Miles mom gets angry when he says, ‘whatever’ can you do that with latina!wife for Miguel?

𝐘𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Wife!Reader

Summary: Miguel hasn't had a proper night's rest in days, and quite frankly you missed him. Too bad he's too swamped with work to notice.

Warnings: None! Just a silly lil fic.

⚝

You know those days where you’re just teetering on the edge? It could be for absolutely no reason at all, or maybe a collection of things, all you knew was that it just makes every action you take frustrating.

Well, that was you today.

Granted it wasn’t for no reason. Yesterday, Miguel had promised to come back home for dinner and sleep in his own bed, because for the last few days he had been swamped with work and mission reports. You understood the work he did was important, truly, but you missed him. That, and he was a chronic overworker who would only stop when he collapsed from exhaustion, and you were not going to let it get to that point.

It was getting tiring having to beg him to come back to rest, even for a moment. Spider powers or not, everyone needs a break.

“Uh oh…” you hear Lyla say as you march into the monitoring room, but you continue to press onward.

“Miguel!” you call up to him, but he doesn’t even bother turning around to face you, rummaging through papers and swiping through screens.

“Querida, is there something you need?” he asks nonchalantly like nothing was wrong.

“Yes! There is, actually. What happened to coming home yesterday, hm~?” you say, irritation rising in your voice.

“Oh…is it already the next day?” he asks, still not looking toward you. “I’m sorry, vida mía. I guess I got carried away, I’ll try to be back later alright?” he says, trying to placate you.

“You can’t keep going on like this Miguel, it’s not healthy. One evening of a break won’t hurt. Hell, I’ll even help you out with paperwork, and Lyla can too. So come home tonight, alright? For me, please?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he says without thinking, only half listening to you.

“Excuse me?” you say, your voice stone cold and immediately Miguel stiffens, slowly turning toward you with a sheepish look on his face.

“Vida mía,” he says, his expression apologetic as his platform begins to lower to the floor. You don’t have the patience to wait for it though, choosing to swing up with your webs and meet him at his level.

“Miguel O'Hara, who do you think you’re talking to?" you say lowly. "I’m not one of your subordinates, I am your wife,” Your hands are planted on your hips as you look up at him annoyedly.

“I know, I know,” he says hurriedly, “I’m sorry. I said it without thinking.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough. We’re going home, now,” you say, grabbing his hand and leaving no room for argument. “Lyla, have Jess take over for the rest of today, alright?”

“Aye, aye, captain!” she says, snickering at the interaction between the two of you.

“Querida, there’s still so much work I have to do,” he says, resisting your pull but you continue to drag you along.

“Should have thought of that before you said ‘whatever’ to me, Miguel,” you say, but sigh. “I’m only trying to look out for you, is that so bad?”

He pauses, studying your worried expression that was because of him. It caused a wave of guilt to wash over him after he disregarded your care for work instead.

“I know…alright, let’s go home sweetheart,” he says, finally relenting as he presses a kiss to your forehead. Immediately you light up, grasping his hand tighter.

“I’ll make your favourite today, and we can take a bath later if you’d like?” you suggest.

“I would love that, tesoro.”

A/N: Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid, @remuslupinwifee, @phobia0325, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @raweggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex, @chimpkinnuggies, @rqdior, @banana--belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @phobia0325, @honeii-puff, @ieatmunson

[magics-neptunes-things]

The Dork And The Nerd

Hello there!

I didn't post anything with Leah since like for ever, so there it is!

Please enjoy :)

TW : None I think, or please let me know :)

Looking around the room, you readjust the camera one last time before starting your stream. It’s your job, even if some people are still saying that it isn’t a real job and stupid things like that.

You were winning your life easily with it, living your dream. You always loved playing video games, you started alone because it wasn’t what your little sisters were loving to do. When you discovered online games it was a life changing for you. You started streaming when you were 18 years old, which was seven years ago now. It was hard at first to be honest, being a woman in this man world.

But you find some friends in popular streamers who took you under their wings and help you to be where you are now.

You have several thousand people who follow you to each of your live, four night each week. You still have some shit to deal with, like harassers, but you took a manager who is the one reading your mail. He takes on him to choose your different partnership and sometimes answer to the people sending you strange things.

You are openly gay, but that doesn’t make stop some of men to send you disturbing pictures. Thanks god it’s your agent who see them, but you are aware of it. Just like your girlfriend, though.

You start your stream like usual, saying hello to your followers and talking a little bit about actuality or what you did today. You have a white kitten, who you called Purrito, who is almost as famous as you are. He keeps coming when you are playing, sometimes lying on your hand, or trying to catch the mouse of your computer. You already have a lot of bloopers because of him, but you can’t be mad with him.

Lately, your passion for video games seems to have catch the attention of your girlfriend. She always was looking at you when you are streaming, when she can. You usually do it during the evening so she’s back from training or games.

When Leah asked you to learn to her how to play video games, at first you thought she was messing with you. But she was really serious and ask you one more time. And who are you to refuse something to your girlfriend?

At first it was just to have fun, but you soon have an idea, and you used your best puppy eyes to get your girlfriend agreed with it. You wanted to make her play with you, but without her showing her face in your screen.

You never talked about Leah being your girlfriend, even if you are together for two years now. The public know that you are in a relationship, you sometimes mention your girlfriend live. They just don’t know who she is.

You met Leah at a ceremony and Katie who is a fan of your job took Leah when she went to met you. You were happy to met Katie, but you find yourself thunderstruck by Leah. You don’t remember if you were really coherent that night, but Leah followed you back almost immediately when you did it on Instagram.

You waited the next Arsenal games to sent her a message, congratulating her for her performance. You even take a picture of you in the stand with your father (who really was surprised when you ask him to go with you to a women football game). Leah answered you that next time you come you have to tell her, so she could give you a better seat.

You didn’t know if she was serious or not, but she then asked you the next game in London if you are coming and she find you a seat in the friends and family area. After the game she offers you to go for a drink. You then had other dates, and the rest is history.

You got together one month before she did her ACL and even if it was a hard time, you both get stronger. You let Lia Wälti take the lead in Leah’s recovery, but you were always around to help too. When Lia return to her home, you were the one staying with Leah at night. And you kept taking her in her rehab and cooking for her.

The day Leah started to run again, you were at the training to watch her. This is the day where she officially asked you to move in with her now that she could do things alone again. Unless cooking maybe, but that’s another question.

You accepted of course and the blonde happily transformed one of her guest room in your studio of stream.

It’s where you are now, Leah peacefully setting on your living room, ready to go live with you.

“Oh, it looks like our guest is here” you smile when you see that Leah is connected too. “Hi Baby!”

You only said to your viewers that it was your girlfriend, without saying anything else. You are aware that maybe someone will recognize Leah’s voice, but it would be fun anyway.

“Hi Love” she answers.

You make a reminder of the game you were going to play, for her first live Leah chose a car games, Trackmania. It wasn’t your favorite game, but you were so happy that she said yes to you that you would have accept a Tetris game.

“How are you?” you ask her, while making the game ready.

“I’m fine. Happy to play with you tonight.”

“I am happy too” you smile before looking at the camera. “Let’s have her a good evening guys so she will accept to do it more often yeah?”

You hear Leah chuckle, and you can’t help but smile. You already are seeing comments saying that you look whipped, what makes you roll your eyes. It seems to you that Leah’s voice is a little different from what it is in reality, but maybe your mind is playing trick.

You play several runs with Leah, before switching to another game after talking with your chat who recommend to you to make Leah try an adventure RPG. When you look at the clock again, it’s past midnight.

“Oh wow I didn’t realize that it was already so late” you exclaimed yourself. “We are going to stop here guys, I’m sorry. Maybe next time we will try Minecraft or something else, I’ll let you know. I hope you had as fun as I had Babe.”

“It was really fun. Thank you for inviting me.”

You can hear Leah smile and you can’t wait to go to the living room for a cuddle and kiss session. When you played together until know, you were able to show each other or tease the other with kisses.

“You will be invited for more times” you smirk.

Leah left and you take the time to thanks your viewers a little more longer before logging off. You stretch, finishing your bottle of water before going to find Leah. You run on the stairs and Leah already knew you were coming before you jump on the couch next to her.

She laughs when you attack her with kisses all over her face, finishing on her lips.

“Did you really have fun?” you ask, looking at her with attention.

She nods, playing with your hair. She’s smiling and every time you look at her, you wonder how in the world you get so lucky. She’s perfect.

“I did” she smiles at you. “I’m not saying that I want to do that all the night every night, but it was great.”

“Mh I maybe have another idea for us to have fun all night” you smirk.

The tone of your voice is very obvious and if Leah had one doubt, she just has to look the way you are looking at her. Your fingers run on her tight and you kiss her one more time, before sucking slightly at her neck.

Leah gulp and just hums, tilting her head on the side for you to have a better access. You know what you are doing, after more than two years, you know Leah’s body and reactions like the back of your hand.

“Let’s go to bed” Leah decides several seconds after, taking your hand before dragging you in your bedroom on the first floor.

********

“It was a great session.”

You smile at Leah who came to your studio after you played together again. You were still sitting when she entered the room, and she passed her hand around your shoulder from behind to kiss your cheek.

“It was” you smile before turning your chair to face Leah.

She sits on your lap, and you pass your arms around her. It wasn’t the second time that you are playing together while you are streaming, today you chose Fifa and it was very fun. You made the pact not to play with Arsenal or England, but it was still very funny. Leah is a very bad looser, so you play several games in the same team too.

“People are starting to have some suspicion though” Leah says.

She was right, you saw on social media some things about your girlfriend being Leah. But it wasn’t the only name coming.

“Yeah, they said I will make a great couple with some of your teammates too” you shrug, before counting on your fingers “They are talking about Sabrina, Alessia, Kyra and Lia.”

Leah frown, not really liking the picture who comes in her mind.

“Nah. You’re mine.” she answers possessively.

“Do you want to tell people?”

Leah looks at you, thinking for several seconds before answering. This is lasting for some weeks now and you know that you can’t stay hidden forever. You attract the attention of the world by playing together.

“Not now. It’s fun like this, don’t you think?”

“It is” you confirm with a smile.

Leah has the habit to be coupled with every teammate and you are sometimes shipped with other streamers. You like to stream with other of them, certain being your friends too. There is nothing much, but that doesn’t stop people to imagine that you are dating one of them.

But you have to admit too that your stream with Leah attracts more people than usual, and you are a little scared that people will assume that you’re using your girlfriend for the views.

Your face being very close to Leah, she seems to realize very quickly that something is on your mind.

“What’s the matter?” she asks.

“Nothing” you say at first, before sighing. “Well, I mean… I already have some viewers saying that I’m using my girlfriend to gain more viewers, so I was wondering how they would react when they realize it’s you.”

You shrug to show her that it’s not really important, you don’t want to think you are worried about something so little.

“If someone say that you know what my answer will be?” Leah asks with a serious face.

“No” you mumble.

“I will tell them that we are together for two years, that you have been the best girlfriend in the world since. I will tell them how affectionate, caring, sweet, funny, clever and passionate you are.”

You can’t help but smile and feel your cheek being a little red at that statement. Leah smirks and kisses your cheek.

“And I’ll add that if you use me, it’s only in the bedroom and the way you do is actually very talented and also very private.”

You laugh this time, hitting her on the arm. Leah seems very happy about her joke, her eyes shinning with malice. She’s so beautiful. You bite her jaw before whispering.

“You’re such a dork.”

“The Nerd and the Dork, it would be a great book title” she smirks.

“You’re not totally wrong.”

********

“You’re cheating!”

You can’t help but laugh at Leah. You are playing once again against your girlfriend, during a live. You are playing at Mario Kart and you just won the race for the third time in a row. She’s fuming and even if you can’t see her, the noise coming from downstairs are letting you know that she’s actually kicking the ground right now.

“I’m not, Baby I swear. You can’t cheat in this game.”

“Yes, you are!”

You roll your eyes, not answering anything. You are of course very aware about of much your girlfriend hates to lose. You are at the first place while Leah is third, which is really good for someone who isn’t playing video games daily like you. But not for the great Leah Williamson.

“Someone in the comment is saying that I will sleep on the couch. I won’t Babe, right?”

“I’m not sure about it for now” Leah grumbles. “Or maybe I’ll go sleep to the trai…”

You cough suddenly and Leah stops talking, realizing what she was just about to say. You really hope that no one would understand what she was going to say. Or at least another end of sentence, not “training ground”.

“Alright, next game” you say right after.

“I’m gonna crush you.”

She doesn’t and when you join her in the kitchen after, she seems really embarrassed. You ignore the different messages asking what Leah wanted to say and the answer some of them gave. You saw that some people where right and you know that the research will start again.

“I’m so sorry” she says, coming for you while you’re entering the room. “I was fuming because I was losing, and I forgot for some seconds that it wasn’t only you and me.”

You smile, easily passing your arms around her to give her a hug. She cuddles against you when you kiss her temple.

“It’s ok, don’t worry. Plus, you are the most famous between the both of us, you will be the most annoyed by all that.”

“Why would I be annoyed?”

Leah back up her head a little bit, just to be able to have a better look at your face. You arch an eyebrow before answering.

“Because you always told me you want privacy.”

It was in the early hours of your relationship, and you never said anything against it. You understood Leah’s needs, at this time you weren’t as famous as you are right now. She wanted to be known for her skills, her job in football or her implications in different charities. And the point was very easy for you to be understood. Your friends are families know obviously about you two, it would be strange and difficult to hide a relationship when you live together. Plus because of her answer last time you talked about it, you were really sure that it was what she want.

“I told you that at first, but now I wouldn’t mind if people start to know about us.”

She shrugs like it’s nothing, but your mind just blown. You were used to the idea of people stay in the ignorance about your relationship and the love you have for this woman. As long as you have her, why would you complain?

“Do you… Really?” you frown.

“Yeah, I mean if you don’t want to be out…”

“No, I do. I just thought that you would like to stay private for like forever?”

“I love you. I want the world to know how happy you make me. But in several weeks. I want to play with your fans a little more.”

“Sounds good to me” you smirk. “And I love you too.”

********

For the next weeks, you chose one day of the week to play and stream with Leah. Between those days, you were careful to post some things on social media, giving little clues to your followers about the identity of your girlfriend. You never posted something with Leah or even with a part of her hand or hair. It was more subtle than that.

Until one day, where you were peacefully streaming while Leah went out with her friends. You usually go with her, but today it was more an unexpected drink, so you already have something planned on your channel. You have an entire trust in Leah, and you know that nothing would ever happen with anyone. If you go with her almost every time, it’s only to have a great time with her.

Plus, tonight she’s out with Katie, Caitlin, Steph, her boyfriend, and Kyra, so there are really no risks.

You usually wait for Leah to text you that she was coming home to cut your stream, so you have the time to finish what you are doing and say goodbye to your viewers. Tonight though, either you didn’t see her message, or she forgot to send it to you.

Still, there is suddenly a stunning blonde who enters your studio, showing herself in the camera at the same time. You are so surprised that you only can look at her on the screen of your camera.

“Hello Hot stuff! You won’t believe what I just learned about Kyra! Did you k- … Oh shit.”

That’s the moment she realizes. It was almost comical to be honest, the enthusiastic tone with which she began her sentence, the moment of silence and the last words spoken in a low voice.

You only have like two seconds to decide if you want to cut the stream and never talk about it again, or if it’s time to be honest with everyone. You chose a third way and turn to the camera.

“Well it’s time for me to say goodbye. See you tomorrow at eight. Thanks for being here!”

You wave and cut the stream and the camera before turning in Leah’s direction. She seems amused but she has at the same time the same look on the face of a teenager caught doing something wrong.

“Funny way to outing things, this clip will be viral” you comment with a small smile.

“I’m sorry?”

Leah can’t hide her smile and you can’t either. You can be mad at her for something like that. You let Leah comes to sit on your lap, kissing her softly when she’s settled. She taste like tequila.

“How was your night?”

“Great. But I missed you.”

She hides her face in your neck, and you feel the goosebumps forming when her breath stroke your skin.

“Did you have fun?”

She hums, start to kiss your neck and you know that the discussion you were supposed to have right now is delayed for now. You will have a lot of time to talk about it later. Your phones are way too busy receiving tons notifications to be able to do anything with it right now anyway.

********

YourInstagram and LeahWilliamson

liked by liawalti, leahwilliamson, alessia, bethmead and 199,937 others

YourInstagram Two years and a half with this dork. I love you ❤️🤍

comments have been limited

leahwilliamson I love you more my Nerd ❤️🤍  

[irndad]

hi im back! okey so def can see spencer still wanting to hug and snuggle with you even when fighting or mad at each other. he even gets genuinely ??? confused ??? when you try to sleep on the couch instead of in bed at night. he holds you and either reader or him is like "i know we are snuggling right now but i am still super pissed off at you." lol i can just see it. he may be petty when mad but he wont stop trying to touch you bc its a biological need of his and no argument is more important than needing you 🥺

enjoy this I did it very fast!!!! ily

He knows he’s not easy to be with sometimes. She would never say it, but it’s true. He doesn’t always get the jokes, sometimes pushes things too far and without even knowing it the ground gets pulled out from under him. 

And sleep- Sleep is so complicated. The memory of the first time she slept in his bed is etched into a place he could never erase. Spencer had always had trouble sleeping, either fear or alertness plaguing him into the late hours of the night. He used to lie awake, the kind of exhausted that feels like it’s seeping out of your bones, while constantly facts he’d unwittingly memorized about how sleep deprivation can cause brain damage. 

But then she’d come into his life. All soft words and gentle disposition, and there really is something magic about the way that everything just dissipates when her warm, soft body curves into his own. He’s slept well almost every night since. 

Except today, she isn’t coming to bed. 

It’s his fault, and he knows it. He wasn’t being fair. She hadn’t seen him for two weeks (and he hadn’t slept nearly enough without the weight of her form beside him since the last time he saw her) and she’d said that she wanted to be prioritized more. 

“I haven’t seen you in weeks, Spence!”

His head was killing him. Was it actually possible, for a headache to kill you? Her voice is audibly upset, and it’s alarming how he could be the cause of it. 

“Please,” he had said through labored effort, “Can we talk about this later?” 

“When would you like to talk about it? Because I don’t ever know if you’re leaving-“

“Do you even know what it is that I do?  That it’s not a choice for me to go? I have to do this. I can’t pick and choose and honestly, I don’t want to. If you don’t get that, we’re not doing what I thought we were doing.”

It sounds foreign, his own voice. And it’s after he’s said it that the sick taste reaches his throat because oh, that means the end. Her lovely face is unreadable for a brief moment, before something like grief splays over her expression.

It’s silent for a beat, and Spencer wishes he could swallow the words back up, rewind his life like a battered VHS tape where he’s not so stupid to mess up the one thing that’s ever brought him peace.

“You’re not yourself, Spencer. I’m gonna give you a minute.”

A minute, it turns out, is hours in the living room. She hadn’t left, thank fucking god, but she hadn’t come back. Of course she hadn’t. She wasn’t the one who needed to apologize. 

He’s just so tired. 

He thinks of her so-sweet voice, the curve of cheek- the junction of her neck and shoulder, and how much he would like to have her pressed against him. He pads out into the living room like a nervous puppy, and sees her sleeping on the olive green couch she had picked out. Her hair was splayed across the arm of the sofa, and her head laid on a throw pillow, their fuzziest blanket draped across her form. 

His first thought is how low he’s dropped, that he’s jealous of a blanket. 

His second his that she is not coming to bed. He sits beside her gingerly, and the scent of her body wash lingers in the air. 

“Are you planning on coming to bed?”

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” He can tell she wants to sound cold, but the truth is much worse; she sounds guarded. 

“I always want you to.” It’s the most honest thing he’s said today, and it’s just not fair, how much he revolves around her. How he has waited 14 days, 13 hours and 34 minutes to hold her again and managed to ruin it within the first 20 minutes of having seen her again. He grabs her hand, soft and pliant against his in a way that almost makes his heart leap. “Please? Come to bed?”

Her gaze softens, the warmth and light that guides him back in her eyes, and he hopes his relief isn’t too visible. It’s then that she drinks him in. It feels too revealing like she can see right through him. His clothes are old. He’d rushed off the jet to see her, and the half moon circles under his eyes only lend to the unimpressive picture of himself. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she breathes, touching the side of his face. He instantly leans into it, the contact more than he’d be willing to give up to save his dignity. “Come here.”

She wraps her arms around him, and he pulls her into his lap, squeezing her tight to his chest, like she might disappear. 

“I’m still mad at you,” she says, looking at him with such affection it betrays her words.

“That’s okay,” he says into her collarbone, “As long as I still have you.”

[guksfairy]

✧WC: 1.5k

✧Notes: Idol Jungkook, Kpop Choreographer OC, exes, kinda happy ending?, SLIGHTLY inspired by All Night by ASTRO (stream) but it’s not sad :)), most likely a one shot

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

Koo💗: It’s laughable how you pretend you don’t care about me

The first message was sent at 11 PM.

Koo:💗: opn pls

You stare at the message illuminating your face in the darkness of your room. It was 3:18 in the morning when your phone pinged with a message from Jungkook who you had broken up with just a week prior to this. With a light scoff you decide to not even respond to it let alone let him know you read it. You lock your phone and place it on your nightstand and cover your body once more in an attempt to go back to sleep.

Just as you are about to slip back into your sweet dreams you’re interrupted by loud banging coming from the front door.

Oh god.

“Y/N!!” he’s going to wake up your neighbors. Quickly throwing on a hoodie over your silk loose night shirt you do a little run to the front door.

“Baby please let me in! The key isn’t working,” his words are slurred and his hair is a mess when you open the door. Your home is illuminated from the hallway lights and a grin from Jungkook who doesn’t hesitate to hug you the moment his eyes land on yours.

“The key won’t go in the keyhole,” he slurs tucking his head into your neck basically putting his entire weight on you.

You can’t turn him away. He’s clearly drunk in the middle of the night. Besides, it’s not like you ended on the most horrible terms. You had simply pointed out he was too busy with his work and no longer gave you the attention you desired in this relationship. He was clearly against it but he too decided it was better for the both of you. Since then you haven’t bothered to text him too busy with friends, family, and most importantly work.

You let out a grunt and push him away without fully letting him go. “Jungkook go sit on the couch,” you point to an area he’s well familiar with. Having dated for 2 years after all but he whines and shakes his head. “No no I want to be with you,” he attempts to go back into your embrace but you stop him and repeat your instructions.

“Jungkook go sit on the couch. I’m going to prepare you a tea,” He holds your gaze allowing you to notice the tears forming in the corners of his doe eyes. “You don’t love me anymore,” Shit. What do you say to that?

You do still love him but would it be confusing to say the truth and confuse drunk Jungkook. He’s already proving to be enough work so you try to avoid answering.

“Jungkook I care about you which is why I’m going to make you a warm tea so you feel better later,” you say.

“So you don’t love me?” his tone is childish with a whine. Something that always made you give in to whatever he wanted to do. Like when he wanted to go to the arcade with you but you had to focus on something works related happening very soon. He convinced you with his cute doe eyes and tone.

You avoid his question once more before pushing the front door shut and turning on your living room lights walking him to the couch he bought you. He helped you move into this apartment 1 year ago and had a good laugh when he realized you barely had any furniture so he settled on buying it for you. You wanted to resist but he was very persistent so in the end you just let him. He let you choose which one and the following week it had arrived.

Letting him fall slowly on the soft surface you grab the throw blanket beside him and throw it over his body. You walk to your kitchen and grab the pot, filling it with water, and placing it on the stove.

“Baby I’m really tired. Let’s go to bed?” his voice is loud from the living room but you ignore it. You can’t have this conversation right now. He’s drunk.

As your grubbing the mug you hear his phone go off and him answering.

“Jin hyungggg,” his cheery tone seems to confuse the older because Jungkook’s response was, “Nothing I’m fine,” with his slurred speech not helping his case.

“No hyung I’m with my girlfriend,” his eyes seem to slowly close giving into exhaustion before he’s handing the phone over to you.

“Hello?”

“Y/N?” his voice is shaky.

“Who else?” unless he was already with someone else who else would but you would he be with.

“Sorry I’m just out of it I think. Do you want Joon and I to go pick up the kid?” they seem to have already entered their car because the background goes quiet waiting for your response.

“I think you guys should just go home. It’s late and it’s not like I don’t know how to handle him,” you look at him noticing he’s only half conscious when your statement makes him smile.

“Are you sure? We don’t want to have him be a bother to you. You know with the whole…” you sigh before you tell them it’s fine and hang up placing the phone next to Jungkook realizing his screen has not changed. It’s still the picture he took of you on your trip to Japan for your first 100 days of dating. Your smile grows slightly before his phone turns off and you turn your heel back to the kitchen.

Resuming your act of serving his tea you grab his usual mug and pour his favorite tea into his favorite mug blowing on it and making your way back into the living room.

He’s snoring at this point but you don’t want his hangover to be too bad. He knows how to handle his liquor well but the hangovers were always present in the mornings. Never too bad but always there.

“Jungkook,” no response, “Jungkook,” earns you a minor hum from him, “Koo,” and that does it. His eyes open, not fully, and he moves a bit.

“Jungkook you should drink your tea,” you point to the mug previously set on your coffee table, also bought by him, in the hopes he grabs it and takes a sip but instead he looks at you nonchalantly and closes his eyes once more.

“Jungkook~” you shake him gently before he opens his eyes once more.

“Just drink this then you can sleep,” you say.

“I think we should just head to bed now, baby. I’m tired,” he says causing you to let out a deep sigh.

“Jungkook please,” he grunts but sits up as best as he can and takes ahold of the red and black mug and flinches when the liquid touches his tongue.

“Ow! It’s hot baby,” his eyes shut tight but you give no response. Instead you head back to your room and open your closet door picking the extra blankets and pillows before dragging them back to him.

“Do you want me to set this up for you?” You ask him. Watching him take another small sip, he looks up at you with his eyebrows furrowed when his sight lands on the bedding.

“Baby are you upset with me? Why can’t I sleep in your bed tonight?” You could be upfront but again are faced with the same dilema.

“I just-I’m not feeling too well. I don’t want you to catch anything,” your response seems to put his nerves at ease.

“I don’t mind it though you know that. Remember that time you had the flu and I came over and then I later got sick? I don’t mind it,” his argument only gets, “Jungkook that’s because we kissed while I was sick,” you place the items on the couch.

“I think we did more than kiss baby,” his teases cause you to softly hit his arm.

“You can set it up yourself,” making your way back into your bedroom his voice it heard again.

“Sweet dreams my love!”

“Goodnight!” You close your door not trusting yourself to deny him back in your bed. To sleep. Obviously. Nothing more.

With a heavy sigh you look at your clock reading 3:39 AM.

You still love and care for Jungkook but with his schedule and yours it just wasn’t right. He was busy with practice and performances while you were basically in the dance practice room constantly trying to perfect and teach dances for idols. Your work schedules constantly overlapped so when you got even the slightest amount of time with him you never took it for granted. Which is why the morning of when you turn and see Jungkook peacefully asleep in your bed you don’t care. You don’t push him off. You don’t get up. You forget about your breakup and allow yourself this. You let him hold you tightly like it’s the last because it very well may be.

[mingtinysworld]

Hiiii!!!!!! Could you please do something with the ateez members reacting to you being able to rap?? Like you memorized lose yourself by Eminem as a kid and they see you slay it at karaoke? Love your work!!!🥰🥰🥰🥰

A/n: Hi!! Love this idea hahaha. So glad ateez isn’t actually listening to me rap, cuz I would just humiliate myself lol. I tried to make this as non repetitive as possible, I hope you like it! (Also i literally don’t know anything about rap music so bear with me.)

Ateez OT8 reaction to you rapping

Hongjoong

You, Seonghwa, Yeosang and Hongjoong decided to go to karaoke and sing your hearts outs. After 3 shots and 6 songs later, Mackelmore's "Can't hold us" comes on. You stand up abruptly, ready for your moment to shine. You snatch the microphone away from Yeosang and start spitting fire. You're so in the zone that you don't notice Hongjoong's eyes comically bugging out of his head. He blinks slowly and a big smile comes onto his face. Once you're done with the song, Hongjoong spins you around to face him.

"Holy shit babe, we gotta get you in that studio asap."

Seonghwa

"I bet you can't do my verse in bouncy."

Seonghwa challenged you, therefore you had to prove him wrong. You crack your neck, your knuckles and your back dramatically, and flip your hair against his face. He laughs at your antics and sits back to enjoy the show. You absolutely devour his verse, and turn around to give him a smug raise of your eyebrow. "How was that huh?" Seonghwa is stunned and just starts slow clapping for you while you curtsy.

Yunho

Yunho jumps up and down in excitement as you get ready to blow him away. He requested you to do "Lose yourself" by Eminem, and while you're confident in your skills, you worry about Yunho's reaction. You take a deep breath and do the whole song with so much swagger and confidence that Yunho can't keep his happy whoops and cheers in. He turns into your personal hype man and claps with pride once you finish being a rap goddess.

“Again again again!!!”

Yeosang

"Baby i've never heard you rap before, pleaseeeee please rap for me." Yeosang has been begging you to rap for ages now. Whether it's for making fun of you or to genuinely appreciate your skills, you agree anyways. You pick one of your favorites, "Rap god" by Eminem. As soon as you start, Yeosang's mouth drops open. He makes eye contact with the other guys and just stares at your jumping form in awe. After you're done he picks you up with one arm and holds you like a trophy.

"Presenting to you, the rapper of this generation."

San

You requested “Not like us” by Kendrick Lamar and you were so prepared. San had never heard you rap before, so he sat down and observed you in interest. Through the first verse, San is already thoroughly impressed. You’re so into the music you don’t look at him until you’re done. You turn around and see that he’s got tears in eyes. “San are you crying?!”

“Sorry babe, my girlfriend is just so talented I couldn’t hold it in.”

Mingi

You choose his verse in “To the beat” for karaoke, excited to show Mingi. You grab Seonghwa for moral support and you both jump up and down with excitement while spitting bars. Meanwhile, Mingi grabs one of the rings on his own finger and goes down on one knee right behind you. When you’re done and turn around, you yelp in surprise. “Mingi oh my god what are you doing?”

“You thought you could rap like that and not become my wife??”

Wooyoung

“PLEASE PLEASE DO HUMBLE PLEASE.” Wooyoung begs you to do “humble” by Kendrick Lamar and you can’t help but accept it. As the first word comes out of your mouth, Wooyoung loses it. He screams and runs to the hallway yelling “THATS MY GIRLFRIEND EVERYONE.” While you just laugh and continue rapping. (Oh to have Wooyoung be your hypeman bf)

Jongho

“Ok Jongho, I’m gonna rap for you now hehe. Get ready.” Get ready he does indeed. He sits back comfortably and watches intently as you put on “Matz” by Seonghwa and Hongjoong. You get to the really fast part of Hongjoong’s verse and Jongho can’t help the surprise that goes through him. He never knew that you could rap like this. He watches you get so immersed in the song and can’t help falling in love with you even more. When you’re done he motions you to go over to him. He pats his thigh once and you obey, settling across his lap.

“You are full of so many talents my baby.”

[lexisecretaccx]

Good little Girl - Matt Sturniolo

(Fem reader x Matt Sturniolo, smutty, use of nicknames, suggestive, kissing, oral fem!receiving, Dom!Matt, idk)

Summary: reader and Matt just hooked up but he doesn’t want it to be just a one time thing and she learns a secret about him…

I stand off the bed and start to get back into my outfit, my mini skirt and tight shirt. “What are you doing?” He groans as he leans up on his elbows. I turn to him now standing just in my underwear, “I’m leaving, isn’t that what you do on a one night stand?” I ask continuing to pull up my skirt, he gets out of bed and walks towards me.

He grabs my hand that is pulling up my skirt and pulls into his chest, “I don’t want you to leave.” He spoke hardly and spun me around to face him, his hands trail down my shoulders, arms and onto my waist.

“But why..” his hand comes up and tugs on my bottom lip, he pulls me in closer, “please.. be a good girl.” He spoke softly in a tone that caused butterflies to erupt in my stomach.

“Okay.” I say quietly, and step out of the skirt I was previously putting on. He keeps my hand held and pulls me back to the bed “I can’t do it again, it was amazing but I’m all fucked out right now..” I breathe out as we sit on the bed, “no.. I want to lay with you.” He spoke as he pulled me on top of him to straddle him, his hand comes up the the side of my face.

“Did you think I only wanted to fuck you and never see you again?” He asks me his hands rest on my hips, I shrug. “You have security guards in your house and you live in a mansion.. I thought you’d only want a one night stand.” I say and I lay down on top of him, getting into a comfortable.

“Im sorry I gave you that impression, I’m not all bad.” His hand finds place on the back of my head. “What do you do.. for work? Because at the party you had a bodyguard looking guy next to you.” I ask as I pull the covers over me and him.

He sighs, “I can’t tell you that sweetheart.” I move off of him and look at him, “why not?” I say in an annoyed tone. “Fine.. but please be a good girl and listen to what I say, don’t be scared.” He sits up before pulling my face in and gently kissing my lips, “okay.” I nod.

“I’m not a good person, I hurt people.. not you of course but people who deserve it.” He breathes in, studying my face for my response. “What do you mean? You seem like a good guy to me.” I tilt my head at him. He chuckles, “I’m a good guy to you.. I wouldn’t hurt you but other people deserve it.” I watch his composure shift to that of nervousness.

“What other people?” I continue to question him. “People who owe me things.. and people who hurt my loved ones.” He studied my face for any sense of fear, instead my eyes widen in excitement.

“So you’re like a loan shark?” I speak excitedly, loving the rush of hooking up with someone with such authority. “Not exactly sweetheart,” he breathes in, “I have many aspects to my job but that’s not a major one.” He leaned into my ear to whisper something. “I’m Matthew.. Sturniolo.” That last name rang through my ears.

Sturniolo.. as in the Mafia bosses, people who run the town from behind the scenes, picking and plucking anyone they choose. There’s three of them, their names always kept hidden but as I recall from news arcticles they’re brothers.

“I hooked up with a Mafia guy?” I whisper the last part of the sentence, he nods and I stand up. “Oh my god, does that mean I’m your property now?” I say in panic but a still a slight hint of excitement, he’s a gorgeous man with a protected house and a stable sense of income, on the plus side if anyone fucks with me he will kill them.

I need to not think about what I could gain from being with him, that’s selfish. I lean against the wall, placing my hand in my hair, trying to figure out what I’ve just learnt about my ‘one night stand’ “No of course not, I don’t own you. Not unless..” he walks up to me and lifts my chin with his large hand, “you want me to?” He pulls my mouth in and our lips connect softly.

I hum into the kiss, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck, something about him just makes me melt.. he’s got this appeal, maybe it’s the nicknames or the fact he’s a mafia boss but I’m drawn to him.

He lifts me up from my thighs and holds me, this only deepens the kiss before I pull away to speak “I want you to own me, I want you to use me.. I think I just want you.” I whisper, lust filling my senses. “Be careful what you wish for darling.” He spoke as he threw me down onto the bed, causing me to yelp.

“Can you be my good little girl and do what I say?” He leans down smirking, I nod quickly. “Words.” He spoke. “Yes I will..” I reply, filled with excitement and my stamina feels refuelled just from his kiss and touch.

He removes my panties and unclasps my bra, before removing his underwear too, revealing the large cock that I, not long ago, had inside of me. This time I feel even more sexually attracted to him due to his power.

“Such a pretty pussy.” He spoke as he dipped down between my legs, before I could reply he started swirling his tongue around my already wet entrance. I moan out loudly, his tongue slips inside of my hole causing me to arch my back. “Fuck..” I squeal before looking down at him, staring up at me with a seductive look in his eyes.

He sucks on my clit softly, elicting whimpers and curses from my lips. I already feel myself clench due to the pleasure, “fuck I’m gonna cum..” I breathe out between moans.

He hums before dipping his tongue into my entrance again, his nose hitting my swollen bulb just right. My back arches further and I tangle my hands in his hair. My thighs close around his head as I feel my climax reaching closer. “F-fuck.” I scream out as I feel my arousal leaking out of my entrance onto his slightly bearded face.

He forces my thighs open, which are still shaking and lifts his head, my juices around his lips. “Taste yourself..” he swipes some arousal from off his lips, onto his fingers and pushes the fingers into my mouth. I swirl my tongue around his fingers before he removes them from my mouth. “Good girl.” He praises.

He pulls me closer to him before lining his tip up with my sensitive entrance, before giving me a chance to breathe he pushes into me harshly. I grip onto the sheets as he pounds into me roughly, maintaining eye contact. He pushes his forehead to mine, staring deeply into my eyes as he fucks into me. I bite my lip due to pleasure and a weird mix of pain, a good pain.

My core fuzzes again as he repeatedly hits my g-spot with his large member. “Fuck you feel so good around my cock.” He groans, I can’t reply as my eyes roll back into my head and the pleasure grows as I feel myself clench around him, causing his hips to jut forward. “Cum for me darling.” He breathes out, his forehead still pressed against mine.

His pupils dilate even further as both of our orgasms reach closer. “Fuck.” I yell out as I come undone, him following shortly, releasing his cum inside of me, as I had previously mentioned I was on the pill the first time we fucked.

He removes his cock from inside of my hole, leaving me feeling slightly empty. “I’m tired.” I whine. “Let’s sleep then.” He cleans me up and moves me under the blankets before sliding in next to me. “So what am I to you now then? I don’t wanna be a fuck doll or anything.” I lean into him.

“No of course you’re not a fuck doll.” He laughs before pulling me to face him and look him in the eyes.

“You’re my good little girl.” He smirks, “shut up.” I turn around pouting, “let me take you to dinner, I’ll show you what you are to me then.” He leans on my arm and brushes the hair out my face.

“Okay,” I sigh and smile slightly, “why me?” I ask and confusion fills his face. “Why did you pick me?” I ask again, he wraps his arms around me, “I could tell you were a genuine person. You were the only one at the party who wasn’t intimidated by me, you seemed innocent.” He smirks, “I was wrong about that.. you’re not so innocent.”

“I wasn’t intimidated because I didn’t know you were the mafia guy, I don’t even remember why I was invited to the party.” I shrug and nuzzle my head in to his chest, “I wanted you to come.” He whispers and I turn my head to face him quickly, “what?” I ask.

“I saw you, at the restaurant.. you were waiting a table and that big guy tried to intimidate you into giving him a discount and you argued back.. you weren’t scared of him, so I told my men to give you an invite to the party so I could get to know you better.” He looks at the ceiling above him, his arm still around me.

“The guy was tryna use his size to intimidate me.. I knew he wasn’t gonna do anything,” I say and he looks at me to show he’s listening. “You definitely got to know me a lot better..” I chuckle, looking at us laying in the bed naked together.

“I just felt like I needed you, that man was one of my rivals.. he verbally abuses women and I hate it so seeing one of them fight back made me drawn to you.” He stroked the side of my face, “you have me now.” I smile.

He smirks back at me and nods, “let’s sleep.. I’ll show you around in the morning.” He spoke quietly as he turns down the light, “okay.” I breath out on his bare chest.

I start to doze off before I get woken up slightly by him, “I’m so proud of how well you took my dick.” He whispered in my ear.

“Such a good girl.” He coos in my ear, stroking my hair before we both fall back to sleep.

A/n: I wanted to write more one shots since I haven’t in a while! This was fun and refreshing to write. I love papi Matt. Mafia Matt though 😍😏 ALSO IM ALMOST AT 500 FOLLOWERS TY YALL ILYYYYYY❤️

Taglist: @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @sturniologurl4l2008 @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @sturniolosmind @fratbrochrisgf @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @stingerayyy2 @freshsturns @riasturns @sturniololvrrr @maryx2xx @whicked-hazlatwhore

[austinswife]

ALWAYS YOUR SECOND CHOICE - ‘Buck’ Cleven

SYNOPSIS — In the final days before Gale "Buck" Cleven leaves for war, you can no longer ignore the ex-girlfriend who has been a constant presence in his life—always pulling him away, always his priority. After months of feeling like a second choice, you finally confront him about his divided loyalty. But the truth that unfolds is even more painful than you imagined, leaving you questioning whether your love is enough to hold on to.

WARNING(S) — Themes of betrayal, jealousy, and insecurity, heated, emotionally charged dialogue, emotional turmoil, heartbreak, unresolved tension, possible relationship breakdown.

fia’s note: rewatched ‘masters of the air’ and felt like maybe i should write somehing angst so please don’t hate me. possible of part 2 (not sure)

𝜗𝜚 ALL FEEDBACKS, IDEAS SUGGESTION — TO AUSTINSWIFE

You stood by the window, arms crossed tightly against your chest, watching as the last light of the day faded into a dusky orange. Buck was late again. Of course, he was. She had called earlier—again and you already knew where he was. You didn’t even have to ask. You’d been through this before, too many times to count.

The door creaked open behind you, and you turned to see Buck stepping into the room, wiping his hands on his jeans. He froze the moment he saw the look on your face—like he knew what was coming but wasn’t ready to face it.

“Y/N…” His voice was careful, too careful.

“You’re late,” you said flatly, your voice devoid of emotion, though your heart pounded in your chest. You were holding on by a thread, and you knew it.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he said, tossing his keys on the table. “She just—”

“She just what, Buck?” you snapped, cutting him off before he could even finish the sentence. “Needed your help? Needed to talk? Needed you?” The words dripped with bitterness, the anger you’d been bottling up for months finally spilling over. “Because, God forbid, Marge ever doesn’t need you.”

He sighed, the familiar look of frustration crossing his face. “Y/N, come on. This isn’t fair. She’s going through a rough time. You know that.”

“And when is she not going through a rough time?” you shot back, stepping closer, eyes blazing. “Every time something goes wrong in her life, you’re the first person she calls. You’re always there for her, but when it comes to me? You’re never here, Buck. You’re always running to her.”

“It’s not like that—” he started, but you weren’t done.

“Then what is it like?” Your voice cracked, the emotion breaking through despite your best efforts to hold it back. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like she’s the one who really matters to you.”

Buck’s eyes hardened, his own frustration building. “That’s not true, Y/N. You know it’s not like that.”

“Then explain it to me!” you shouted, taking a step closer, your fists clenched at your sides. “Explain why every time she calls, you drop everything and run to her! Explain why I’ve spent the last few months feeling like I’m competing with someone who isn’t even supposed to be part of our lives anymore!”

He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came. The silence stretched on, his hesitation speaking louder than anything he could have said.

“See?” you said, your voice quieter now, broken. “You can’t. You can’t explain it because deep down, you know I’m right.”

He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head in frustration. “Y/N, you don’t get it. She’s my friend. She needs me right now. It’s not about choosing her over you.”

“But that’s exactly what you’re doing,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Every single time, you choose her.”

His eyes met yours, something unreadable flickering across his face. “It’s not a choice. She’s in trouble. I’m just trying to help her.”

“And what about me?” you asked, your voice small, the pain in your chest making it hard to breathe. “What about what I need? You say you’re trying to help her, but what does that make me? Am I just supposed to sit here and wait until you’re done saving her?”

“Y/N—” His voice was softer now, more pleading, but you didn’t want to hear it.

“Why are you always running to her, Buck?” The question hung in the air, raw and vulnerable, the one you’d been too afraid to ask until now. “Why is it always her?”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Because she needs my help, Y/N. I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart shattering at his words. You felt the anger swell in your chest again, but this time it was mixed with something deeper—something closer to despair.

“No, Buck,” you said, shaking your head as tears filled your eyes. “You’re fucking wrong. It’s not about helping her. It’s because she’s always been your first priority. It’s always been her, hasn’t it?”

His face softened, his eyes filled with regret. “No, Y/N, that’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” you demanded, stepping closer, tears finally spilling over as your voice broke. “Because it sure as hell feels like it. I’ve spent this entire relationship feeling like I’m second to her. And you’ve done nothing to prove me wrong.”

He shook his head, stepping forward as if to reach for you, but you stepped back. “I love you,” he said, his voice desperate now, pleading. “You’re the one I’m with. You’re the one I want to come home to.”

“Then why does it feel like I’m always waiting for you to choose me?” you cried, the weight of all the pain and insecurity crashing down on you.

“I’ve tried, Buck. I’ve tried to be understanding. I’ve tried to give you space, but it’s never enough, is it? Because no matter what I do, I’m never going to be her.”

His face twisted with guilt, his eyes glassy. “Y/N, it’s not like that. She’s just… she was a part of my life for a long time, and I can’t just—”

“Just what?” you interrupted, your voice rising with a mix of anger and heartache. “You can’t let her go? You can’t put us first?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words never came. Instead, he just stood there, helpless, as you poured out the truth you’d been holding onto for far too long.

You took a step back, shaking your head, your voice quivering. "When I was in the hospital, Buck—when I was so sick, have you been there for me?"

He flinched at your words, and you saw the guilt flash across his face, but he didn’t say anything. He couldn’t.

"Okay, you told me you couldn’t come because you couldn’t skip a day at the base. I told myself I could understand that. I could understand that," you continued, your voice choking on the emotion you had held back for too long. "But when she… when she told you she needed your help, you left everything behind in an instant."

Your voice broke as the tears spilled freely down your face, your heart splitting wide open.

"It hurts so much, Buck. It hurts too much for me to handle. I can’t keep doing this, always wondering where I stand. I don’t even know if I’ll ever heal from this, because the more I love you, the more it hurts."

“Y/N…” His voice was thick with emotion now, but it wasn’t enough. His words weren’t enough.

You looked at him, your heart aching with every beat. “I deserve better than this, Buck,” you whispered, your voice barely audible now. “I deserve to be someone’s first choice, not their backup plan.”

“You are my first choice,” he said, his voice cracking. “Y/N, please—”

“No,” you said firmly, wiping at your tears with trembling hands. “If I were your first choice, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. If I were your first choice, you wouldn’t be running to her every time she snaps her fingers.”

Buck looked at you, his eyes pleading, but you could see the conflict in him, the way he wanted to be there for you but couldn’t bring himself to let her go. It was written all over his face.

The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating, until finally, you shook your head, the decision made for you.

“I can’t do this anymore, Buck,” you whispered, your voice barely audible now. “I can’t keep fighting for a place in your life when already taken.”

His face crumpled, and for a moment, you thought he might fight for you. But he didn’t. He just stood there, torn between two worlds, unable to choose.

You took a shaky breath, the finality of your decision settling in. But even as your heart shattered, you couldn’t help but care for him. That’s how it had always been. No matter how much he hurt you, you loved him. You couldn’t turn that off. Not now, not ever.

“I hope you come back safe, Buck, truly” you whispered, your voice breaking with the weight of unshed tears. “I hope you survive the war, and that you come back whole.” You hesitated, your throat tight.

“But I won’t be here waiting for you.”

His breath hitched, his eyes wide with shock and pain. “Y/N, don’t—”

“I have to,” you interrupted softly. “Because I deserve to be someone’s first choice, Buck. I deserve to be more than just someone you run to when she’s not calling.”

The tears fell freely now, but you didn’t wipe them away. You let them fall as you gave him one last, lingering look—the man you loved, the man you couldn’t stay with.

With one final, heartbreaking step, you turned and walked out the door, leaving behind the love you thought you had and the life you had to let go of.

[bookshelf-dust]

the bad shit

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 1,192

warnings: swearing, possible allusions to depression, brief mention of death, a tiny finger injury, comfort

a/n: my brain does not seem to be in a writing mood right now, but i did manage to crank this out. i do enjoy making billy cry, so there’s that. i hope it’s alright! please let me know what you think. i’d really appreciate it. <33

————

Billy’s been fidgety since he woke. 

You hear the soft thud of his boots, muffled against the carpet of your bedroom floor. He makes his way towards you and kisses your forehead, knowing you’re probably too sleepy for a real kiss this early.

He doesn’t tell you how badly he needs one—that his hands are shaking with it. Though he doesn’t need to tell you. 

You’d heard his alarm clock go off, felt him stay in bed longer than usual, glimpsed him rubbing his face on the way to the bathroom. He hadn’t wanted to get up. Not one bit. 

And even though you can feel sleep calling you, feel the way it presses at your eyes, the way the warmth of the bed pulls you in—you sit up. 

Billy’s closer to the door now, but he hears you shuffle, and he’s quick to move back to you. 

“You need to sleep, baby.”

But your hands are already on his cheeks, and then you’re kissing him, shutting him up and telling him you’re right here. And you’ll be right here when he gets home from work. You’ll be a phone call away if he needs you during his shift. 

“I’ll walk you out,” you say, and your tone informs him that there’s no room for arguments.

You hook your fingers in his belt loops as you push off the bed, hoping that this will keep your half-asleep form from slamming into the wall. 

You kiss Billy again on the stoop, even if he is berating you for being barefoot in the cold. You watch him walk to the car, catch the way his fingers fumble with the keys, the way he doesn’t even have it in him to slam the door shut. 

He waves at you from behind the steering wheel.

“I love you,” you mouth, blowing a kiss. He’s quick to catch it in his hand, gesturing so that he’s tucking it away in his pocket for later. He responds just as he always does, but you can tell he’s still sleepy. 

That he’s tired. 

————

You aren’t home when Billy gets back to the house. There’s a note on the counter in your sweet scrawl, telling him that you ran out to pick up dinner. Eating at all had completely slipped his mind. 

Billy’s just having a day. He’d wanted to stay home but couldn’t, and not only has he been fidgety, unable to focus for want of home, of you, but his thoughts are getting the better of him. They’re suffocating. Telling him he’s not good enough for you, that he’s a waste of time—of your time. That he should’ve died like he was supposed to in that fucking mall. 

And he knows it isn’t true. He knows that you loved him before any of that, when he was just being an asshole, when he was just pissed that he’d had to move. And you love him now, even when he has bad days like this. 

But his head. His mind. It tells him otherwise. It fights and it claws and it screams at him. And today he is losing that fight, letting his mind yell and tear at him. 

Billy tries to distract himself and wash the dishes, but he only gets so far before he drops something and almost breaks it, before he cuts his finger on a knife he put in the damn sink. After that he tries to find a band-aid but spills all of them on the floor, and the first one he opens gets stuck on the wrapper and he can’t use it. 

Once he does secure the pink bandage around his pinky, he goes to clean up his mess and hits his head on the counter. He tries to change clothes and trips, gets his belt loop stuck on a drawer handle. 

“God fucking dammit.”

After that one he gives up and throws himself on the kitchen floor, choosing a beer with a pull tab rather than a cap for fear he might actually hurt himself and bleed out.

He hears the sound of you locking your car, the door squeaking when you open it, and he knows he should’ve gotten up to help you, but he just couldn’t. He starts to cry. 

“Billy? Where’s my baby?” 

The sound of your voice causes him to hiccup, and you’re on the floor in front of him in a matter of seconds. 

He’s covering his face with his hands, and you know then that the day must’ve gotten the better of him. 

“Hey, let me see you. It’s okay, honey, I’m right here.”

Billy looks up at you, lashes clumped together with tears, nose red and lips all swollen. He looks so frustrated with himself, so beat, that you ache for him. 

He wishes he was stronger. That he wasn’t breaking down in the middle of the kitchen, but you told him once that it’s okay to have bad days. That you're always going to be there on the worst ones. 

He puts the beer down the moment you hold your arms out, crawling into your lap and burying his face in your chest. You don’t care that he’s heavy or that you’re not entirely sure you’re getting any air in your lungs. You care that he’s letting go and that he’s showing you this vulnerable part of himself. 

Billy cries, he weeps, against you for what seems like forever. But you don’t mind. You only want him to feel better. You rub his back, play with his hair, anything to soothe him just that little bit. 

When he’s finished, when he’s caught his breath, he pulls away. His cheeks are pink and you’re sure he’s berating himself for having just sobbed like that. He’s sitting on his knees, fingers scratching at the freckled skin of his arms. He looks young like this. Lost.

“Was it just a bad day? Or is it the bad shit?” 

That is Billy code for I’m spiraling and I need help. For I’m having a hard time and I can’t do it alone. I don’t know how to say it. 

You established that little code pretty early on in your relationship, knowing it would be helpful in getting Billy to talk about his feelings with you. 

“The bad shit,” he tells you. 

“It’s not true,” you say. “Whatever your head is telling you today, it’s not true. Not today, not ever. You gotta say it for me, okay?”

He gives you the barest shake of his head before he pauses and tries to steel himself so that he can do it. He doesn’t want to let you down. 

“It’s not true.”

You grin at him. “Right. And you’re a badass. And we’re gonna eat dinner, and then we’re gonna talk it out, and then we will lay down. And maybe I’ll scratch your back for you.”

Billy nods. He hates that his breath catches at that, that the offer brings him pure, unadulterated joy. 

“Okay.”

He can do that. He knows he can offer that much. 

Because he is a badass. And he can try for you. For himself. 

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

tagging: @clovermunson

[adnauseum11]

Misfire (John Price x Reader)

A little snippet of a scene came to me and made me laugh. John Price having a crush on a long time friend and finally working up the nerve to ask her out. Kinda.

less than 1k words

John Price x fem! reader

SFW

feedback welcome

I know almost nothing of CoD other than fanfic so go easy on me

I wouldn't know how to write shy and retiring if my life depended on it.

You’ve known John forever. Like, forever, forever. The friend group he originated from disintegrated years ago, but the two of you remained thick as thieves. He’s moved in and out of the country, and you’ve changed careers a few times, but through it all he’s been a reliable shoulder to lean on. He’s the first person you call when you need help moving for the millionth time, and he, good man that he is, turns up with beer and willing hands as soon as he’s available. If he grumbles about your proclivity for changing apartments so often you know it comes from a place of concerned affection. If anything, he’s pleased you’re closer to his bachelor pad now, negating the need to drive across town twice on game nights. God forbid you ride a bus for twenty-five minutes when he could deliver you to your doorstep in fifteen. He's retired from the Army, and still takes safety a little too seriously for your tastes. You indulge him though, because who actively chooses the bus when other, more pleasant options are available?

When he asks you to dinner, you agree without even blinking. You reason there must be a rugby game on or something he wants to see. You don’t even ask where to meet him, assuming, correctly, that he will pick you up. So, you are caught off guard when he turns up in your entrance way wearing a button-down shirt, suit jacket and dress pants. He too, is caught off guard. You look down at your outfit in unison. Bootcut jeans, well-worn Blundstone boots and a ratty but beloved faded t-shirt that cheerfully proclaims “IDAHO? No, you da ho” across the chest in cursive script. 

“Uh… what are you wearing?” He asks, cautiously.

“Me? What are YOU wearing?” Totally confused now, you can’t help but feel a little saucy about being put on your back foot.

“I asked you to dinner, didn’t I?”

John’s accent gets stronger when he’s caught up in strong emotions. That really should have been your first clue. But this is John. John. 

“Yeah, why are you all dressed up for beers? What game is on tonight anyways?” 

You throw him a look like he’s gone slow on the uptake as you reach for your coat. When you turn to look at him with your purse strap slung over your shoulder, he’s looking as confused as you feel. 

“Game? Love, who said anything about beers?”

“Wait, we aren’t going for beers?” Disappointment creeps into your voice and you can see you have managed to flummox the normally unflappable John. 

“Bleedin’ Jesus, I mean, we can have beers if ye want, sure. I just uh…” 

He lets the sentence hang, clearly uncertain.  

“You what?” You prompt, vaguely concerned at his out of character behaviour. 

“I made reservations at Stella del Mare.” He admits in a rush.

“You did what? This isn’t… beers? Is this… are we on a date?” The slow realization finally takes hold and a spiral of panic begins to descend through your body. “They won’t let me in like this!”

“Uh, no. No. They sure won’t.”

He agrees easily with the second half of your statement while staring at your chest and dodging the first. You narrow your eyes at him. This isn’t your first rodeo with John’s evasiveness. 

“How much time do I have?”

“Including travel time, or…?”

“John. If this is how you start all your first dates, I can see why you don’t have many second ones.”

“’Bout 15 minutes love.”

He answers seriously, properly chastised. 

You whip your purse over your head and slap it against his wide chest, catching him off guard. He holds it in place while you sling your coat off and dash upstairs again. 

He’s still in the same position when you return back down the steps, having swapped jeans for a black skirt and your (hilarious but wildly) inappropriate t-shirt for a silk, V-neck emerald blouse with cap sleeves. You’ve pulled your hair back into a simple bun and slicked on a light layer of neutral makeup and a deep red lip. John’s eyebrows climb as he catches a glimpse of you but he waits until you’re picking up your coat again before he speaks. 

“Listen, you look beautiful. I – “

“Can it, I’m still annoyed at you for the moment.” 

You take the purse out of his hands and slide the strap over your shoulder, smacking his big bicep playfully as you push him out the door and into the night. You resolve to question him thoroughly about his poor communication skills at dinner as you lock up. Wasn’t he in charge of people in the army? Christ. 

[itsangelll]

LOVE LOVE UR WRITING could I please get a fic of 2010 Tom smut of where he’s like a teacher and the reader is in college? Love your writing 🤭

A/n: of course enjoy!! <3 TOOK ME AGES TO WRITE always wanted a teacher Tom smut I can’t lie.

Nothing to say now? ★

2010 era!!

reader is 19!!

warnings:smut swearing reader is rebellious (at the start) angst?

MDNI!!

You were a rebellious kid, parents kicked you out at a young age partying every night staying at your friends houses, with the some money you saved up you started college because you wanted a career at least to get you somewhere. But it wasn’t going so well you couldn’t care about grades, you talked back with teachers always having the last word. Getting into fights you almost had to leave college but you just shrugged it off.

It was a new day and you walked into music class but there was not your usual teacher. He had deep brown dark eyes had black braids over his shoulders and a bandana his lip piercing shimmering in the light, “So who’s this asshole?” You said while walking over to your desk. “This asshole is your new music teacher for the semester call me Mr. Kaulitz or Tom you choose” He said not wasting any time. (I’d call him that any day.)

After a while you started to get pretty bored so you decided to go out get some fresh air maybe light a cigarette? you walked up out of your seat, just to leave the classroom “And where do you think you’re going?” he spoke while writing the last thing on the whiteboard.

You rolled your eyes and turned around meeting his sharp gaze “Um getting some fresh air isn’t it obvious” crossing your arms together leaning against the doorframe, “you didn’t ask to lea-“ he got interrupted “Yeah yeah kiss my ass” you left the room not caring what was gonna happen.

You were probably gonna get another talk with the principal or whatever but did you care? Not at all you were sick of college and wanted to leave as quick as you could but still wanting to achieve something, 10 minutes or so later you came back the class was silent.

You sat back down in your seat eventually Tom came over his tall figure towering over the desk. “So you wanna tell me why you left class without my permission” he spoke calm but firm “Because I wanted fresh air this class is boring anyways.”

Your voice was raised a bit cause you were getting sick of him pushing you, this went on for a few minutes you were starting to get really pissed off, and so was Tom “Fuck sake can you stop getting up all in my business you aren’t my parents!!.” You yelled out not breaking eye contact.

Tom’s facial features was now tense he leaned down and whispered “Look sweetheart I’m getting sick of this are you gonna shut that pretty mouth of yours or do I have to shut it for you?” His voice was rough you were dead silent you didn’t know how to react no one has said that to you ever. He leaned back up looking down at you his eyes were filled with some sort of emotion you couldn’t describe?

-time skip

After a while class was finally over thank god you were packing your stuff up about to leave Tom stopped you. “Sorry you’re gonna have to stay for a while” he spoke his gaze directly on you looking you up and down you groaned and tried leaving pushing past him.

That was no use Tom grabbed you and pushed you against the wall “Are you always this fucking problematic in every class” He spat out You were quiet, you were hitting him trying to get out of his grasp but he already had a tight grip on your waist.

His other hand lifted your chin up to meet his eyes, you felt like you were about to collapse Tom’s gaze was mesmerising he smirked his tongue grazed over his lip piercing, next minute Toms lips crashed with yours his cold metal piercing pressing against your mouth which got you even more weak his lips were soft but very rough at the same time. His hands snaked their way down to your sides having a firm grip you whined giving his tongue access. (I didn’t know what to say. 🙏)

Your tongue was battling his trying to gain dominance Tom won of course no matter how much you wanted to stop you couldn’t it was too good, after a bit he pulled back your plump cherry red lips coated from his salvia. You couldn’t believe what just happened, But was Tom finished of teaching you a lesson? oh no.

“On the desk” He demanded you sat up on the desk he came over towering over you his hand rested on your thigh, while his lips travelled down your neck leaving some marks in their wake but not enough to be seen his hand moved up towards your inner thigh “May I?” Tom whispered his voice was so gentle so soothing (help my soul atp) you nodded his hand moved upwards till he reached your underwear, lightly using his thumb to press over your clothed clit.

Your lips were pursed trying not to make a sound your hips grinded against his hand wanting him to do more “wait Schatz I’ll give you what you want soon” Tom murmured out leaving a kiss on your cheek. Slowly he removed your underwear letting it fall down to your ankles he was in a daze, your pretty pink cunt was glistening “So pretty” his voice tangled with lust.

Tom moved your legs apart giving him more access he kneeled down and dipped his head between your legs without any warning his tongue develd deep into your cunt, “Fuck Tom!” You arched your back squirming a bit his grip on your thighs was that hard they were bound to leave marks tomorrow.

He lapped back and forth between your folds going harder each time, his lips moved up to attack on your sensitive clit. He sucked harshly against your clit causing a loud moan to escape your lips your thighs were about to suffocate him but did he care? no.

Tom’s hand moved up to kneed your breast your nipple getting hard underneath his touch. He wouldn’t stop his attack his tongue felt great against your cunt, “You taste s’good schatz” he mumbled vibrating against your clit. You couldn’t answer moans were escaping your mouth your knot in your stomach was begging for release at this point.

“S-shit Tom I’m close” you whined out your legs starting to shake “cum for me liebe” with those words your orgasm rode out cumming all over his tongue. Tom groaned he lapped at your folds one last time collecting any remaining juices. He stood up and pressed a kiss to your lips you grimaced tasting yourself Tom pulled away, helping you get yourself back together.

You packed your things but then Tom asked “So now are you gonna listen to me during my lesson?” He asked slightly amused his tongue moving across his bottom lip you looked back at him smiling and shrugged “I’ll think about it.” But one thing was true you were now gonna enjoy your music class.

@bunniesthoughts @jadedchar @memzyyy @madzandmore

A/n:this was a lot but I did pretty good :) but I hope you guys enjoyed keep sending me requests cause there amazing I’ll try and post more mwah bye cuties <33

[deerlino]

Can i please request an arcade date fic w han? Or a nap date fic w han? Like whichever one you choose can you make it with a lot of hugs and face kisses? If you choose the arcade one can you like make it like a double date w like chan and his gf and like make it so each couple is competing w each other or girls v guys?????

ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR ( HJS. )

Han Jisung x Fem!Reader

Sypnosis: You and your boyfriend Jisung hit the arcade for a double date with your friends Chan and his girlfriend. It’s game after game with the loser buying dinner. (746 words)

Content: Fluff, Established Relationship, Arcade (Double) Date, Competitive Spirit, Crack, Humor, Teasing & Banter, Kisses, Hugs, Dinner Date, Pet Names

Warnings: Strong Language (Cussing)

Author’s notes: I’m obsessed with arcade fics, so thanks for the request, anon! <3 I usually don't write fics with more than two characters (you can probably tell after reading this 😅), but it was fun to try something new! There’s more interaction between Jisung and the reader (Y/N) than between Chan and his girlfriend, but if you want Chan’s and his girlfriend’s POV for this night, I’d be happy to write it—just let me know! Hope you enjoy this fic! 🖤

You walk into the arcade with Jisung by your side, the neon lights reflecting off his bright smile. Chan and his girlfriend are already inside, waving enthusiastically. The air buzzes with excitement, laughter, and the constant clattering of game machines.

“Finally! We thought you guys got lost or something,” Chan jokes, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“Please, we were just fashionably late,” Jisung retorts, his arm snug around your waist. “Ready to lose?”

“Oh, it’s on,” Chan grins. “Losers buy dinner, right?”

You nod, feeling the competitive fire in your belly. “Prepare your wallet, Chan.”

The first game is basketball hoops. You and Jisung face off against Chan and his girlfriend. Jisung winks at you, his confidence infectious. 

“Okay, babe, show ’em what you got,” Jisung encourages, squeezing your hand.

You take a deep breath and start shooting. The balls fly out of your hands in a blur, and you manage to sink a few good shots. Jisung, meanwhile, is a machine, sinking basket after basket with ease.

“Yes! That’s my girl!” he shouts, pulling you into a hug, his lips brushing against your temple.

Chan’s girlfriend isn’t too shabby either, and she and Chan are racking up points fast. It’s neck and neck, but in the end, Jisung’s steady aim pulls you both ahead.

“Ha! In your face!” Jisung crows, doing a little victory dance. You join in, laughing as he twirls you around.

“Alright, alright, you won this one,” Chan admits, feigning defeat. “Next game!”

You move on to the air hockey table. Chan insists on a rematch, and you can see the determination in his eyes. You and Jisung huddle close, strategizing.

“Just keep hitting it towards Chan’s left side,” Jisung whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “He’s terrible there.”

You nod, determined. The puck flies back and forth in a flurry of intense concentration. Each time you score, Jisung’s whoops fill the air, followed by a quick kiss on your cheek.

“You got this, babe! One more point!”

You give it your all and, with a final swift move, score the winning point. Jisung lifts you off the ground in a bear hug, peppering your face with kisses. 

“Attagirl, you got this!” he exclaims, grinning from ear to ear.

Chan throws his hands up in mock despair. “I can’t believe this. Next game!”

You move from game to game, the stakes growing higher with each round. Skee-ball, racing games, whack-a-mole. You and Jisung are in sync, teasing and cheering each other on, sharing quick hugs and kisses every chance you get.

At one point, during a particularly heated dance game, Jisung accidentally steps on your foot. He immediately stops, concern written all over his face.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, baby!” he apologizes, crouching down to inspect your foot. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Sungie,” you assure him, giggling at his overreaction. “Just don’t step on me again!”

He stands up, giving you a sheepish smile before pulling you into a hug. “Never. Let’s win this.”

And win you do. By the end of the night, the scoreboard is clear: you and Jisung have won more games than Chan and his girlfriend. Chan groans dramatically, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes.

“Fine, dinner’s on us,” he says, pulling out his wallet. “You guys are too good at this.”

“We’ll try to be gracious winners,” Jisung says, giving you a mischievous look before planting a kiss on your lips.

You all head to a nearby diner, collapsing into the booth in a fit of giggles and exhausted happiness. Jisung sits close to you, his hand never leaving yours. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear.

“I had so much fun tonight,” he murmurs. “We should do this more often.”

You smile, turning to kiss his cheek. “Definitely. But next time, we’re upping the stakes.”

Jisung laughs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “You’re on, babe.”

As you all dig into your food, the conversation flows easily, filled with teasing, laughter, and the warmth of good company. Jisung keeps sneaking kisses, his fingers laced with yours under the table.

By the end of the night, you can’t stop smiling. It’s been a perfect date, full of fun, love, and a healthy dose of competition. And as Jisung walks you home, his arm around your waist and his lips pressed to your forehead, you know there’s no one else you’d rather be with.

© deerlino (est. 150624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3

[actiniumwrites]

𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

synopsis: in which you find out the truth about lyney’s identity

characters: lyney x gn!reader

wc: 695

warnings: pure angst, established relationships, breakups, reader has a past with the fatui, mentions of physical harm and death, major spoilers for the 4.0 archon quest

notes: i am officially in writers block and want to die because of it. also, i know this idea is a little old since the quest came out a few weeks ago, but i still wanted to write something about his identity. also, yes, i would forgive lyney, but this blog has not seen pure angst in awhile so…🙂

“You were never going to tell me, were you?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as you finally break the silence. Your arms are crossed as you lean back against one of the brick walls of the Opera Epiclese. Lyney stands approximately three feet away from you.

He’s silent, unable to answer the burning question. It’s been on your mind all night ever since Furina had so proudly announced it to all of the court. Lyney was a part of the House of the Hearth. Part of the Fatui.

“I can’t lie to you,” he carefully picks his words, terrified of further upsetting you.

Cutting him off, you scoff and turn away from him further than you already had, “What? Like you haven’t been lying to me this entire time? Real funny.”

Lyney takes a single step closer to you.

You take one back.

“Please, I wasn’t lying to you. I just left out some parts of the truth, that’s all, I swear!”

“You are part of the Fatui, Lyney. The Fatui! How can I trust you when you’re part of an organization who hurts people, kills people, even,” you frown. Not a single part of you isn’t affected by the hurt you feel. He hears the way your voice is beginning to break too, like the truth of it all is finally beginning to set in.

His hands come together as he pleads, “I promise I’ve never hurt anyone, not ever! Not everyone and everything in the Fatui is evil.”

For the first time tonight, you turn toward him and look him in the eyes. Your arms become uncrossed as you feel anger fuel your every action, every thought, every feeling. Walking toward him step by step, you hold out a finger, digging it into his chest as you speak, “You don’t get to pick and choose when you’re a part of something dangerous, Lyney! I don’t care if you aren’t the one doing the killing or the hurting, you still help them. What about all those people I told you about? My friends and family who got hurt by the Fatui? Did that mean nothing to you?”

He watches as tears form in your eyes at the mention of them. Of course he remembered, how could he not? The day you confided in him about your past and all the misfortune that you were dealt by the Fatui was eternally engraved in his mind. The organization who had taken so much from you that you swore you would find a way to end it one day, even if it meant dying. You had laid everything out to him and the entire time he was on their side.

You take two more steps back from him, voice shaking as cave in on yourself, “No wonder you were so quiet that day. God, and here I was thinking you actually cared.”

“Please don’t say that,” he whispers, tempted to reach a hand out to you, but not willing to scare you off. For all he knows, this could be the last time he ever sees you, “I care about you so much it hurts me. I really was horrified by the things you told me, I promise you that. Understand that I’ve only ever been talking to you as just Lyney. Your Lyney.”

It takes everything in you not to run into his arms and forget all of this is even happening. Give into his pleading words and return to who you thought was the only person who had ever really loved you. You want to pinch your arm to wake yourself up from the cruel nightmare, but somewhere deep inside, part of you has already accepted the truth and the fact that there is no universe in which you could accept his true identity. And so you take one final look at him before you take your final step, allowing the tears to fall from your eyes as you bid him a permanent farewell.

Lyney would never forget the final words you spoke to him. Four words that managed to break both your hearts more than the truth had.

“You’re not my Lyney.”

[cococincau]

DRDT Fic Recs

As the month winds around to an end, and as I'm doing everything in my power not to write in my fic docs (read: sarcasm and a cry for help), I wanted to do something to share the wonderful works people have made for DRDT through writing.

This will be a long post so the fics and authors are all under read more. I decided to limit myself to sharing 2 fics maximum per author, otherwise I think I would hit word limit, but know that I absolutely encourage you to check their other works out too. I'll structure this post by starting with the fic title, the author, the blurb, and round it off with what I like about the fic/author overall. NSFW fics will be clearly labelled (please do not click on them if you're not of age), but for individual warnings, please check the tags and notes in the fic themselves. That responsibility falls on the reader's shoulders.

Finally, when you finish reading them, please do leave a kudo, some comments, bookmark the fic. I assure you: it'll absolutely make their day.

carnot cycle by rulanarinrush (G, Charwhit) Charles tries to talk to Whit about Whit's tendency to bury his feelings and not deal with them. post ch2 trial au.

Officer, this author right here is the reason I had to limit myself to 2 fics maximum. As I was scrolling through, trying to decide what fics to choose, I was in a dilemma. This Xanace fic is good, but so is this Areivid, and then there's the Verohus... Point being, rulanarinrush writes very, very good DRDT fics. If you want to find a specific ship in this fandom, they've probably written it. Their entire profile is full of high quality drabbles, fit for some fast reading while you admire just how much characterisation and analysis is stuffed into the fic.

Anyway, I ended up settling on carnot cycle as one to recommend. Charwhit is one of my favourite ships while I retain the opinion that Charles is so hard to write. This fic nails it, capturing that eerie atmosphere of wanting to help a friend but not knowing how to do so. You can see their mentalities incredibly well in this. This is the flavour of Charwhit that I love.

todestrieb by rulanarinrush (G, Creator Chose Not to Use Content Warnings, Verohu) Hu attempts to convince Veronika to stop egging people on. Negotiations break down.

Warning: while not NSFW, the fic does have a character be not-explicitly stated to have a boner near the ending.

Wow. If this fic isn't everything so appealing about Verohu. The veneer of civility, the very drastic ways their philosophies differ, the theming of the self. This is very much how I can see them interacting in canon, Hu trying to maintain peace in her own way, Veronika dismissing those attempts entirely. The way that the negotiations indeed break down. Simply put, that's so hot.

Still Traces by CopperPrawn (M, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Leviace + Xander) Ace knows he needs to die, but his body keeps acting on its own. He can’t control it. He can’t control anything. So he keeps on running, until the fog closes in.

While this is a fic that this is still in progress and I know that may put certain readers off, I cannot recommend this fic enough. A Silent Hill AU isn't something that comes to mind immediately to do for DRDT, but my god, I didn't know this is something I needed so intimately in my life until I read CopperPrawn's fic. The prose is so beautifully described, the characters are perfectly written, the tension is embedded so deep into the text. And the way the POVs are played with? Chef's kiss. Please check this fic out, literal dopamine.

[NSFW] Rail Runner by CopperPrawn (E, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Leviace) Life is a racetrack. It’s a never-ending circle where Ace repeats the same mistakes over and over and over again, unable to slow down, unable to stop. But at least there’s one person standing on the sidelines — and even though he isn’t cheering, the fact that he’s there is enough.

I was already a Leviace shipper when I read this fic, but if I wasn't, I think this fic would have converted me. By god, the dynamics between Levi and Ace here, absolutely entrancing. One thing CopperPrawn does so well is capturing the character voices. Dialogue instantly stands out, it feels both realistic and charming, but again, the prose is filled with characterisation. Third-person limited POV is the usual go-to by authors for fanfiction, but this author utilises it in a way that shows off every stylistic feature while giving us a very intimate look into Ace's psyche. And when it's used for NSFW? Honestly, some of the best sex scenes I've read in a good while.

i’m something very far removed and i keep going by 140 (T, Creator Chose Not to Use Content Warnings, Areden) It’s not going to be a pretty death. But it’s going to be hers. Or: Eden gets hanahaki over a girl long gone.

This is as much an Eden character study as it is an Areden relationship study. And it is so beautiful. Fitting for a hanahaki AU, the prose is flowery, but not anywhere close to that kind of purple prose criticism. No, it's compact and filled and brimming with this spot-on characterisation. Every word matters in this. It hits you with so much wham and tragicness that it makes you remember Eden's choice to be positive. The world is cruel, nothing is ever perfect, but even living in that reality, you can make your existence your own.

Exposure Therapy | DRDT AU by Tied_Ash (T, Creator Chose Not to Use Content Warnings, Verocharles) “Who was the one who comforted you during your panic attack?” Veronika asked softly. “Y… You were,” Charles answered. “...But-” “And who’s the one with more psychological experience?” “...You are.” "That's right." ——————— AKA: Veronika found out Charles has hemophobia instead of Whit.

Now this is a pairing that I've never really thought about before. And you know what? Tied_Ash has shown me the light. I've clearly been missing out. The bad end AU we didn't know we wanted but needed, oh my god please keep enabling Veronika as she enables everyone else, including making Charles process his phobia in increasingly worse ways! Also, the way this author writes dissociation, I love it.

from way up in the rafters by finestcigar (T, Creator Chose Not to Use Content Warnings, David & Teruko) David dreams of falling again that night. (In the wake of the second trial, two survivors have a talk.)

In my humble opinion as someone who's obsessed by David Chiem the man himself (/j), finestcigar has to be The David writer on AO3. I 110% recommend their other fics too, but this particular one stands out to me in the way that the two IDGAFs actually GAF, resulting in very disastrous ways of thinking for them. The author has a gift for prose. The final line of the fic? David's not the only one being haunted, I'm being haunted by the number of times I reread this fic on end.

[NSFW] Let Me Give Your Heart a Break by Pegasus143 (E, Huvid) After their icebreaker game, Hu invites David to her room.

Waiter, more Hu and David fics please! Huvid is a ship that I think really needs more recognition. The ambiguity between lies and truth, personas and the real self, genuine emotions and manipulation... the author bridges and blurs the lines between them perfectly. This applies for both Hu and David, they're getting something out of this interaction that they're not quite saying, how someone can say something that can mean something but be seen in a very different way. Voice kinks are not something I actively seek out often in fics, but you know what, I think after this I might just go look for them now.

i feel like, um, just leaving here by sEb_AsTiAn (T, Leviace + Arturo) Levi Fontana and the morning after. Is it even the morning? How long was he unconscious, recovering from near fatal injuries? How long has it been since… since he died?

There's currently a lot of room for speculation after Chapter 2's cliffhanger, and fics are such a great way to explore what could be. And really, it's fun to point out just how wrong Ace's mentality that no one will remember him is. Look no further than this fic, as Levi and Arturo grapple with the ways Ace have changed them, trying to sort out their emotions, with Levi struggling to understand his feelings about Ace while Arturo is forced to confront the possibility (and reality) of being able to save other people for once in his life. I loved their characterisation here, and until Chapter 3 releases, this is, in my mind, what happens between them.

Painting The Roses (Red) by yermie (Not Rated, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death) “Well, wasn’t that a thrill? Another murderer punished for their crimes!” MonoTV’s screen showed a winking emote with its tongue stuck out. “Anyway, enough crying over spilt— well, spilt blood. I thought I’d get in nice and early this time with your next motive.” — As the Second Class Trial concludes, a new motive is promptly offered to the students of Hope's Peak Academy - Blood Money.

I think most people have come across this fic already. Still, I need to recommend it. It's such a good case fic with what could possibly happen in Chapter 3 following the motive parallels with DR:THH. Blood money is honestly such an interesting concept and a creative execution of the motive, the entire fic had my eyes peeled for what would happen next. Given when it was written, I have to applaud the author for being able to discern characterisation so well that it still reads possible even after knowing what we do now after hiatus.

oscillating like the grandfather clock by Anonymous (T, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings, Whit & Eden + many other relationships) Time has a way of losing its meaning while retaining significance. Inspired by art from @/shira_ceres.

So, the timeloop theory. Love it or hate it, it's still such an intriguing possibility. This fic takes the concept, incorporates it in such a playful and enjoyable way through formatting and POVs and non-linear narratives, and absolutely hits the nail on the head of what's so appealing about it. Whit's and Eden's characterisation here paints so well the journey of how they got here from their past and into the killing game, and as you're watching splices of their life in progress, you feel so well the inherent tragedy of their lives. I am so endeared to Mastermind!Eden and Traitor!Whit now, it just fits so well.

What it means to be a good person by Anonymous (Not Rated, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings, Areivid) In this world, Eden is the one who takes the fall. Arei is left behind to figure out how to live without her only friend in the killing game.

I wouldn't be me if I didn't include at least one Areivid fic in here. My biases in ships and characters are very much showing throughout this entire list, but I tried my best to limit my Areivids because it would just be this ship otherwise. But, if I had to choose just one singular Areivid fic, it has to go to this one. Anonymous, whoever you are, I love this fic as much as I would my child. It's such a perfect exploration of what would happen if Eden was the one killed instead of Arei, how the world would move if the latter was still alive. The way she so keenly impacts the people around her, how she herself develops from this. It's a tragedy how Arei was killed little moments after she decided to change, it's a tragedy how Eden, so nice and soft and dedicated to seeing the good in the world around her, was snuffed out so easily. Life's a series of tragedies, and it's up to us to decide how we go on from there. This author's writing is so beautiful, I am drawn into the universe that they create.