#reply to that one angry anon

[cookierunconfessionblog]

https://www.tumblr.com/cookierunconfessionblog/741277503198527488/i-need-everyone-on-this-account-to-stop-acting?source=share

Let me preface this by saying I am not mad in any way. I'm just stating my opinion. If it matters any, I am an adult.

You cannot tell someone how they should feel. If they feel sad? Great! Happy? Also great! No one is saying to stop being critical of Cookie Run. It's the point that we love Cookie Run and want it to continue. No company is perfect. I repeat: no company is perfect.

"They don't give a shit about you, they're taking advantage of how popular this game is to make a million side games and then do noting"

If they don't give a shit then, then how come they make those developers' commentary videos? Like for the Beast-Yeast and Golden Cheese updates. There was a poll where users were able to give feedback to the developers I believe.

Also, companies do the same thing. Pokemon is a great example, it blew up when it first came out, look at how many side games they have.

"... time after time they get into controversy after controversy.."

Sounds like pretty much any other company. Here I can name a few: Blizzard, EA, and even Nintendo. All 3 have been involved in terrible controversies involving treatment of their staff and the consumers. Don't believe me? You can find various articles about each of those companies.

"it's way better if you just make your own idea of cookie run and make your own plot and rewrite it the lore has gone downhill and I can tell they're writing it as they go"

The first part I agree with. However, in my opinion, the lore is fine. They have a "bible" they use to go off for the plot, so. Of course things are going to be added/changed as time goes on, though I wonder about the opening cutscene of Cookie Run Kingdom.

ㅤ

[randomnameless]

Which is stupider, Brave!Lysithea agreeing with Supreme Leader and thinking that getting rid of crests will automatically cause the concept of people with more power over society than others to disappear, or Brave!Marianne idolizing Momo despite presumably knowing full well how much of a monster he was?

B!Lys without a doubt !

B!Lys thinking crusts makes people nobles erases Judith, Holst and hell, even Marianne herself from Fodlan (Marianne is a noble because she was adopted by Edmund, not because she has a crest, hell, her crest is hidden!!).

B!Marianna can sort of exist in the post VW limbo where it is probable that post VW Claude never said a thing about the origins of the Relics and the identity of the Elites to his classmates (just as it is probably he told them, the game doesn't want you to think about those pesky "issues") - but B!Lys exists in a verse where she ignores members of her own faction so...

I wouldn't say it's stupid per se anon, but it's a case of FEH completely ignoring events from the games to create characters (re : Ayra training A!Mareeta) with the Fodlan speciality : the vast majority of the FE16 characters (not their Nopes versions!) cannot have definite personality traits or connect two dots, because if the stars align a certain way, they can join Supreme Leader/ditch their country/family/friends for Billy's pretty eyes. Unlike the Lord who are from their, well, canon versions, B!Lys cannot say Supreme Leader's "reasoning" is nonsensical, because Lys can join Supreme Leader, let it be for Billy's pretty eyes, or because she is the only unit in the game to be able to look at her city being invaded and her friends having been massacred, and choose to side with the invaders to save her life (tfw Lys adopts more willingly the Almyran POV than Hilda, who rejects it in CF and dies fighting to protect her leader/friend).

[gloomwitchwrites]

LOVED the sit down fics. Please consider: US telling THEM to sit down. What are they going to do? Argue and sleep on the couch? (Love your works!! Always makes my day when I see a new one)

AHHHHHHHHH! ANON OMG! I love this. I giggled and kicked my feet the entire time I was working on these. I had so much fun jumping back into the Imagines Series after Kinktober with this prompt. While I'm still working through the 3.5k Spooky Bingo event, I am returning to my usual content.

For those curious, THIS is the fic that Anon is referring to.

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, suggestive themes, flirting, arguments, swearing

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“John. We have to talk about this.”

“We are talking.”

“No. We’re arguing. And you’re not listening.”

“Of course I’m listening, love.”

“Then what did I just say?” you ask, exasperated.

John opens his mouth and then pauses. He loses steam, the gears turning as he realizes he’s wrong. He takes a deep breath and then holds up his hands. “If I’m being honest, love—”

“Fuck. Sit down, John.”

Your tone is sharp, and John drops into a chair, completely silent, his gaze locked in on you.

“If you are not going to listen to me, then I’m ending this discussion. We can come back to this later. When we’re calm.”

John is always the steady one. He’s your rock, but for whatever reason, this one discussion has transformed into an argument.

There is silence after, and you have no idea what John thinks of your sudden authoritative demeanor. His face is blank, and then his mouth turns up into an amused smile.

“What?” you ask, suddenly flustered.

John relaxes into the chair, spreading his thighs wide in invitation. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re angry, love.”

“Don’t distract me, John,” you mutter, the irritation beginning to melt away.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"We're having this out," says Kyle, grabbing your upper arm. He tugs you against him, head tipping forward in an intimate gesture.

"I don't want to argue with you," you reply.

"And I'm not done." His tone is calm but firm. Whenever Kyle sets his mind to something, it can be difficult for him to change course.

"Well, I am." Kyle's hold on your upper arm tightens a bit. It's not painful, but he draws you closer. "Now, sit down."

"Wha—"

"Sit. Down."

Kyle draws back, startled. His hold loosens and descends to grasp your wrist as he sinks onto the sofa. You rarely assert yourself, but you're frustrated with him.

“I am done fighting about this. Either we find a compromise, or we end this discussion.” Kyle breathes deep, his gaze intense as you continue. “You can sleep out here if you won’t budge.”

“I sleep beside you,” replies Kyle.

“Then talk to me. Don’t push me around.”

Kyle’s hand on your wrist softens, his thumb gently caressing the inside of your palm. It makes you shiver, and Kyle pulls you closer. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, voice soothing.

"Can we talk now? No fighting?"

"No fighting," he agrees.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Irritation bubbles under your skin, creating a buzzing sensation that puts you on edge. You and Simon rarely fight but the two of you always circle back to the same issue.

“I’m sick of talking in circles. We have to figure this out.”

The corner of Simon’s mouth twitches. “I’ve already told you how I feel about it,” he says.

“I understand but we have to find a compromise.”

“I’m not willing to budge on this.”

“Simon—"

He pushes in, invading your space. “You’re the one that’s undecided.”

You hate being bossed around, and you hate it more when Simon flaunts his dominance during a disagreement.

“Sit down,” you growl.

Simon blinks, startled. “What?”

“Sit. Down.”

Simon’s gaze narrows, the middle of his brow creasing. But he sits, settling on the sofa.

“I understand how you feel but I need you to listen to how I’m feeling. This is a big decision, and I want us to talk through things. I’m not just going to bend over and take it.”

“But you like it when I bend you over.”

“Simon Riley!”

Simon smirks “Need to let out a little steam?”

“Yes,” you mutter, flustered. “But this conversation isn’t over.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

Arguments with Johnny almost always end in sex.

He’ll use his tongue, his fingers, and then eventually his dick until you’re blissfully fucked out of your head.

“You are not distracting me,” you say sharply as Johnny moves in, a sly smile on his face.

His hands settle on your waist, gripping tightly. You know if you don’t get a handle on this now, you’ll be face down in the bed with ass in the air in moments. It’s Johnny’s favorite position.

Placing your hands on Johnny’s chest, you give him a bit of a shove, creating space. “Sit down, Johnny.”

Johnny’s eyebrows rise suggestively. With a sauntering sway, Johnny sits on the edge of the bed. He’s shirtless and wearing grey sweatpants. They hang dangerously low on his hips.

You cover your eyes. “We need to have a conversation that doesn’t end in sex.”

“I don’t see the issue.”

“Of course you don’t,” you mutter.

“I like it when you boss me around.” You can feel his heat just before his arms slide around you.

“Oh my God,” you groan, pushing at his chest. “Sit down.”

Johnny teasingly nips at your neck. “Only if you sit in my lap.”

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

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@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@umno-yeah @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[azsazz]

Drown in Me

Garrick (Fourth Wing) x Virgin!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: well I absolutely love Garrick. I just know he is such a softie with his partner. Just imagine that you too hate each other but something change during a mission or something and in a two simple word,, you fucked ". And you're virgin and he is so gentle and after he is so sweet.. Ohh I love this man

Warnings: Angst, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, consensual sex.

Word Count: 4417

Notes: DOES NOT CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR ONYX STORM.

I hope whoever requested this actually ages ago is still around. Sorry it took me so long. I'm obsessed with the beginning, it was so much fun to write 💙

_________________________________________

Chradh lands in the middle of the flight field with a roar that shakes the walls of Basgiath.

It’s directed at you, you know it is.

There’s no ducking away from the golden, narrowed gaze of the brown scorpiontail, nor his equally pissed rider. You swear Chradh is glaring at you, and he huffs a breath that reeks of sulfur.

Uisge, your green daggertail growls low in his throat. He stands tall behind you and equal parts of you want to preen and run, because standing between two dragons is never a good idea.

The Section Leader is not pleased, Uisge notes, and yeah, you already knew that.

Tell me something I don’t know, you retort, but lift your chin as you watch Chradh’s rider dismount with a grace you can only wish to emulate someday.

Your breath sticks in your throat at the sight of Garrick, despite the anger written clear on his face. He runs a hand through his now dry, wind-blown black hair, and you’d laugh at the way it sticks straight up if yours wasn’t still plastered to your skull after the unexpected dip you took during flight lessons today.

The Section Leader is not a strong swimmer. You wince. Yeah, that was found out during flight lessons today, too.

You’re frozen beneath that harsh look Garrick pins you with as soon as his boots hit the ground, his hazel eyes glowing with fire. He’s more than angry, he’s fucking fuming, and your boots squelch as you shift your weight to your other foot. You wince as the water from the soles of your boots floods your feet again. You hope you don’t look like a drowned rat.

More like a tiny, water-logged sheep, Uisge adds unhelpfully. Your shoulders fall in defeat. But a tiny sheep with sharp teeth. Head up, little one.

And well, a sheep with sharp teeth is better than a sheep with no teeth at all, so you raise your chin and patiently await your punishment.

Chradh pounds his strong wings, lifting from the ground, his annoyance with you and Uisge clearly over with. You’re sure the two male dragons are speaking through their mind connection, but you’re thankful that Garrick’s dragon is leaving the scene, even if everything that happens here will be seen through your section leader’s eyes.

It’s better not to have the audience for the reaming out you know you’re going to receive.

Much to your chagrin, Uisge follows.

Wait. Where are you going? We should be bearing punishment together! You can’t leave the sheep to face the wolf, you argue, because Garrick most definitely looks like a wolf right now.

I eat sheep and wolves for breakfast, Uisge replies. Is he insinuating that he’d like to eat you? You’re sure you wouldn’t taste good. And neither of them is secretly trying to fuck the other.

You gape, swinging your gaze to your dragon, but Uisge’s back is to you as he flies toward the vale, his daggertail sweeping in the wind.

Garrick approaches, the hilts of twin swords glow in the sun as it beams across the flight field. He could kill you in more ways than one with those weapons, and others, too, according to the neatly aligned patches that trail down the right arm of his flight jacket. Your jacket is bare, with the exception of the lousy wing and year patches you carefully sewed on. You’ve been awaiting receiving your signet patch, and maybe after what happened in training today, Garrick will get on that for you.

A distant roar has you realizing that you shouldn’t be lingering in the flight field lest the next wing prepare for training, so you spin on your heel and start for the courtyard.

Garrick catches up to you quickly, his strides longer than yours. His fingers are tucked into fists at his sides and there’s a low warning growl in his throat that tells you he’s not pleased with the way you walked away from him.

“What the fuck was that back there?” He questions, and you can hear him struggling to keep the anger from eking into his voice. Too late for that, you can hear his frustration clear as day.

Your boots squeak with each step you take and your damp leathers are beginning to chafe against your skin. Being in the blistering sun isn’t helping in the slightest, and you really wish your room was closer to the flight field right now.

And yeah, perhaps slipping off of Uisge’s back during flight maneuvers wasn’t your smartest decision, but you needed a bigger body of water than the bathtub to work on channeling your signet, and this was the only way you were going to get that done.

You didn’t expect Garrick to dive after you.

“I already told you; I slipped.”

“And I already told you,” Garrick scowls, and it twists the pink scar on his jaw in a way that makes you want to trace it. “I don’t believe you.”

You set your jaw as you make your way up the stone stairs, trying not to cringe when every step fills your boots with water. You release your tense shoulders and attempt to drain the liquid from your clothing with a flick of your hand, but all you can manage to do is propel the water from your leathers into your boots.

It’s infuriating.

“You haven’t fallen off Uisge once during flight training, and all of a sudden, a few weeks after your water wielding signet appears, you go tumbling off into a lake?” He asks it like you think he’s stupid. You think he’s far from stupid.

I don’t, Uisge says, and you force your walls up with all of your might.

He’s been watching you?

You mutter, “I didn’t think you’d follow me.”

“It looked like you really fell off! You were under the water for longer than you should’ve!” Garrick says, and you frown. You couldn’t have been under the surface of the water for more than a few seconds. “What the hell was I supposed to do? Let you drown?”

He was much closer to drowning than you were, little one, Uisge’s voice creeps through your mind and you have to force the smile threatening to split your lips away.

“Uisge knows what I’m capable of,” you argue, but it falls flat at the outright disbelief on Garrick’s face.

“He knows what you’re capable of?” He scoffs, then tacks on a dry, mocking laugh. “You can barely even power an ink pen, for Amari’s sake.”

That’s because you’ve been focusing all of your energy on training your signet. Much more important that being able to power a stupid ink pen, in your opinion.

You stay silent so long that you’re on your floor before you know it. With an angered flick of your wrist, your locks click and your door opens an inch. You want to growl in frustration, that door should’ve swung open and stuck in the wall with the anger you attempted to force into it.

You’ll get there, little one, Uisge’s voice trickles through your walls. There really is no getting rid of him.

Leave me alone, Uisge.

I do not take orders from you, he retorts, but you feel him draw away nonetheless.

“Look,” Garrick sighs, shutting the door behind you with lesser magic. It’s an easy move that you have yet to master. “I can’t lose one of my riders to their own stupidity. I won’t let you.”

As his words settle in, you’re all too aware that he’s standing in the middle of your room, only a few feet from you, and the door is closed.

“I wasn’t going to die, Garrick. I knew what I was doing,” you answer, shrugging out of your flight jacket. Although it is no longer water-laden, the temperature in the room has risen, and you need out. You hang it on the back of your chair, missing the way that Garrick’s hazel eyes drink in the sight of the rest of your flight uniform. Today, you chose something thin and lightweight so you aren’t weighed down by the water you knew you were going to practice in. “I promise. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I do, though,” Garrick swallows, and you watch the way his throat bobs. Fuck, he can’t believe he’s doing this, but here the fuck he is, about to confess what’s been haunting him for weeks. You.

“Why?” You surprise him by saying. You cross your arms over your chest, not realizing that the move pushes your breasts higher. In your haze of annoyance, you fail to catch the way his eyes dip down for a peek. “I don’t see you jumping off dragons after any of the other riders!”

“That’s because I don’t have to worry about them,” he argues, taking a step closer. You’re a defiant little thing, so you move closer, too, which leaves your crossed forearms brushing his chest.

“You don’t have to worry about me!”

“I do!” He all but roars. You rock back on your heels in surprise but catch yourself.

Garrick runs a nervous hand through his hair. He’s no longer meeting your gaze, instead staring out the window over your shoulder. Something’s wrong. Something he clearly doesn’t want to tell you.

“Why?” You whisper.

“What?” He croaks; throat raw.

You glare up at him. You wish he would look at you. “Why do you have to worry about me?”

“I—” he trails off, helplessly, and you can see the way he’s talking himself out of admitting what’s on his mind. Maybe he’s even talking to Chradh.

“You what, Garrick?” You prod, an icy bite to your tone. “You think I’m weak?”

“No,” he answers vehemently. His gaze zeroes in on yours and he looks at you like he can’t believe you even said that.

“Then what is it?” You demand. “If it’s not because I’m the weakest link, then why are you worried about me?”

“Because,” Garrick roars, crowing in on you. You fall back but he keeps pushing forward, until your spine slams into the wall and there’s nowhere else for you to go.

Your arms fall as you brace yourself against the wall. Garrick’s chest heaves, and you swear you can feel the rapid beat of his heart from how close you stand. His front is plastered to yours, and there’s a flutter in your stomach that swirls at the fire in his eyes.

“Because I can’t get you out of my fucking head,” he admits, tone taking on a soft edge that converges right between your thighs. Your gaze flickers from one hazel eye to the other, confused at his sudden revelation. “Doesn’t matter where you are, what time of the day it is, you’re always on my mind.” He lifts a hand and gently brushes a strand of wet hair back that clings stubbornly to your cheek. The heat of his skin is searing, just like his words. “It’s like you’re a second Chradh,” he laughs drily, “Though you’re much prettier than him.”

You’re pretty sure that this isn’t real life. That your section leader didn’t just admit the very same thing you’ve been feeling for him since the first moment you laid eyes on him. It must be real, because you’re here, pinned to the wall by his big, strong body, and he’s looking at you like you might just reject him.

And you don’t know what the fuck to do. Sure, you’ve kissed people before, but you’ve never done anything more. You know for a fact that Garrick is well-practiced, with those broad shoulders and handsome face, his deep, dark hair and bright eyes that could surely turn anyone into a puddle.

The words stick in your throat. You don’t know what to say, where to start, and the longer you’re silent in front of him, the more apprehension creeps into his eyes. He shifts uneasily, and you wrack your mind for a response.

Ugh, just kiss him already, Uisge’s voice pops into your head.

Not now, Uisge, you bite, and then you heed your nosey dragon’s advice, and kiss Garrick.

You can tell he’s caught off guard by the way his body stills against yours. Still, you push onward, making it known that you’ve wanted him just as long as he’s wanted you by dragging your palms up his chest, reveling in every ripple of muscle you can feel through his flight jacket.

By the time your hands lock at the nape of his neck, Garrick’s hands are on your hips and his mouth moves against yours.

He lifts you into his arms, pinning you against the wall. Your legs wrap around his waist and he rolls his hips into yours as his tongue traces the seams of your lips. You gasp and Garrick slides his tongue into your mouth like he’s done it a million times. He brushes against yours tentatively, and when you don’t shy away from him, he advances.

One of his large hands slides up your waist, finding its way beneath the thin fabric of your shirt, exploring the smooth skin of your sides.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to kiss you,” Garrick mutters against the nape of your neck before sucking a harsh mark there. Your head thumps against the wall and your back arches into his body at the feeling of being claimed. It feels like threshing all over again, but this is better. Sorry Uisge.

Other than a rumble of protest down the bond, your stubborn daggertail doesn’t interrupt.

“How long?” you gasp when his lips find the spot that makes you melt into him. Your fingers scrabble against his flight jacket, nails scratching the thick fabric. Garrick growls in frustration, pulling back just far enough to drop his swords, unzip himself, and tear the fabric form his back. His black shirt follows, exposing those beautiful broad shoulders of his. You can’t help but trail your fingers across his pectorals and down his chest, admiring every inch of his body. Zihnal must be with you right now, because you’ve never felt luckier than you do right now.

“Since the day you chose Uisge,” he pants, helping you discard your own shirt. Your bra quickly follows, and Garrick’s hazel eyes latch onto your body like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen. Your nipples pucker under his heady gaze and he loses his train of thought in favor of bending down to suck a pert bud into his mouth, reveling in the way that you gasp and wriggle as he circles his tongue around the hard nub.

Threshing. He’s liked you since threshing, when you chose Uisge. You think it’s an odd way to phrase what happened that day, but in Garrick’s eyes, that’s exactly what it was. You, stubborn thing that you are, staring down the green daggertail with that look in your eye, the same one you always give him. The same one that makes his cock ache.

“Garrick,” you gasp, arching into him. He’s not close enough, not with your trousers still acting as a barrier from where he ruts his thick cock into you. Your fingers claw at the waistband of his pants. “Off.”

Garrick peels you from the wall, trailing his mouth back up to meet yours in a kiss that steals your breath. He’s very good at this, gentle, too, as he lies you on your bed and he works your pants loose from your hips.

“Fuck me,” he breathes when you’re fully exposed. A flush of red crawls up your body from your toes to your cheeks under that scrutinizing gaze of his. “Look at you.”

The sudden urge to cover yourself flares to life. You’re nervous, even more so when he drops his trousers and his cock bobs, heavy and swollen. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, all rippling muscle and perfect cock, his eyes only for you.

“Garrick,” you whisper, unable to keep the fear from your tone. While his cock is pretty, it looks like it’s big enough to rip you in half. You scramble away from him as he places a knee on the bed, feeling guilty at the confusion on his face. “I’ve never…” you trail off, cheeks burning red.

His uncertainty melts into understanding. “That’s okay, we don’t have to if you don’t—”

“No,” you protest, almost too quickly. Your voice has taken on a desperate volume, and you lower it before continuing. “I want to have sex with you, I really do,” you swallow, eyes dipping to his cock. It’s glistening at the tip. “I just wanted you to know, in case…” you trail off. In case he doesn’t fuck virgins.

The furrow between his brows creeps back. “I want you,” he presses, holding your eyes so that you know exactly how much this moment means to him. “If you want me, I want you. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

You nod, almost dazed. Even though he’s told you this already, the words send a current of excitement zipping down your body where it converges between your thighs.

You want him too.

“Come here, then, Garrick.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Garrick kneels at the foot of the bed. He hooks his fingers around your ankles and carefully drags you closer to him, hazel eyes heady with lust. The effortless way that he tugs you to him has your pussy fluttering with need, a movement that he tracks.

When you near him, he slips from the bed, sliding to his knees. Carefully, Garrick tucks your legs over each of his shoulders, and you can feel each exhale he makes brushing your core. You bite your lip so you don’t release an impatient whine, but for Amari’s sake, you’ve never needed something so badly in your life.

“Is this okay?” he asks, tracing soothing circles into the meat of your thighs with his thumbs. He peppers kisses across the sensitive skin, grinning wildly when your hips buck beneath his mouth.

“Yes,” you moan, circling your hips as if to chase his lips. You want him on you now, licking you and teasing you and making you come on his tongue. “Please, Garrick, I—oh!”

You moan loud and wanton as the tip of his tongue flicks across your clit in an explorative swipe. Garrick locks that sound away in the back of his mind and dips down for another taste, scooping your slick up with his tongue. He’s going to enjoy the fuck out of drawing all these noises from you.

You’re fucking wet. The wettest pussy he’s ever had. You writhe against his tongue, panting and moaning at the different ways he uses his tongue. True to your stubborn nature, it isn’t long before your fingers are locked into his hair, guiding him while you chase your pleasure.

“That’s it, baby,” he says as he switches from tongue fucking you to sucking harshly at your clit. He nips at the joint of your hip when you keen in frustration. You even go so far as to lift your head from the mattress to glare down at him. His eyes fucking glow in response and he holds your needy gaze. “Take what you need.”

There’s a smart retort on the tip of your tongue but it melts into a moan of pleasure when his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks. Garrick adds his tongue into the mix, flicking it across your clit like he’s flipping through a never-ending deck of cards. When he adds a finger, your pleasure grows. When he adds a second, your orgasm crashes down around you in pure bliss. He doesn’t stop his attention on your clit until you’re a whining mess and trying to shove him off for a moment of reprieve.

“You did so good for me,” he murmurs across your skin, lips brushing your navel, your breasts as he climbs onto the bed. Your hands relax, melting down his shoulders, tracing the rebellion relic. “Do you need to stop, or can I put my cock in you?” He asks gently, with a firm kiss to your lips.

“Cock,” you echo, still lost in the throes of your orgasm. You’ll be damned if you miss that chance to have him wholly. “Need your cock.”

“That’s my girl,” Garrick whispers, and you preen.

He guides you into a better position, a pillow beneath your hips. His hand is warm on your calf as he directs you to hook your legs around his taut waist. You peer down at his cock, red and leaking and you’re more than ready for him. You’re a mess for him.

Your breath catches in your chest as he guides his tip in. His words are soothing, gentle as he runs his cock through your slick for easier entry. “That’s it, just like that. It might hurt at first, but I promise I’ll take care of you.” He says, and how the fuck can you not melt for him with those pretty words?

Each inch he presses into you punches the air from your lungs. Your body tightens as you stretch around his girth. His cock is hot, branding your insides.

Garrick senses your discomfort and pauses. The halt makes you whine. “How are you doing?”

“Need you closer,” you admit, screwing your eyes shut. You lift your hands and Garrick carefully lowers himself, trying not to lose his head and fuck all the way into you until his hips meet yours. He’s so gentle, so caring, and your heart swells because of it.

He presses his forehead to yours, thumbing a soft pattern against your cheek. “Relax,” he coaxes softly. Your eyes pop open, meeting those lovely hazel ones. “I can stop anytime you want.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” you answer, slowly unlocking your limbs. You didn’t realize that you were digging your nails into the meat of his shoulders, and you carefully retract your claws. “I want you to keep going.”

It takes agonizing minutes until his pelvis rests against yours. Garrick’s reassuring praises helped keep you calm, even made you wetter for him with that wicked tongue of his. He distracted you with kisses and promises, lingering touches and admissions.

Gods, you feel so full. You didn’t think that you’d be able to take him all the way yet here you are with his cock fully sheathed inside of you. It feels right. He feels like home.

On your own time, you give a tentative roll of your hips. Garrick bites his lip to contain the moan that creeps up his throat, but you do nothing to hide yours. Yes, you get why sex is amazing, and you’re about to find out what sex with Garrick is like.

“If you keep squeezing my cock like that, I’m going to meet Malek sooner than intended,” Garrick pants, but fuck if he doesn’t love the way you’re squirming on his cock, drunk off of the sheer size of him.

“Move,” you gasp, fingers tightening on the back of his biceps. “I need you to move, Garrick.”

He heeds your direction like the good rider he is.

He starts out slow, letting you get used to his size. He kisses the furrow between your brow, rocking in and out until it disappears and you’re whimpering for him to move faster. You’re soaking his cock, which makes it all too easy to maneuver quicker, shifting his hips until you’re crying out and your nails are locked into his skin of his back again, raking down his spine.

He doesn’t even care if you leave red traces down his back. He’d rather be reminded of this moment than the scar that’s forever marred into his skin.

“Yes,” you hiss, arching into him. Garrick sucks a mark into the plush skin of your breast before sucking your nipple into his mouth. “Yes yes yes!” He’s ravaging you in every way, feels like he’s using his air wielding to steal the air from your lungs. You know that your lack of breath is simply just from being in his presence, his dashing good looks have always managed to take your breath away.

Garrick is attentive, tracing every part of your body he can reach. He draws a map in his mind, committing exactly what places and noises correspond. He would stay buried in you for fucking days if he could, but the harder you let him fuck into you has his gut coiling, that familiar heat buzzing down his spine.

He slides a hand between your bodies and finds your clit like he’s been fucking you for way longer than one night. You tug his head down in a desperate kiss, whimpering in pleasure into his mouth as his finger draws tight circles around your sensitive nub, chasing you toward that edge that still feels foreign yet so familiar at the same time.

“Come for me,” Garrick whispers, and you have no choice but to listen to your section leader.

You topple over the edge of oblivion. It’s similar to the feeling you experienced earlier, when you let yourself slip from Uisge’s back. A freefall, yet it’s so much more than that. It’s strong arms crashing down with you, a cock between your legs that’s hitting all the right spots. It’s soft words of encouragement from a man you’d never thought you’d get to see this much of. Hazel eyes that you’re falling into.

Garrick comes shortly after you, when he’s sure that you’ve experienced the best first orgasm of your life with him. There will be no one who will treat you like this, he’s vowed to ruin sex with any other man for you. But he’s ready to stick around if you are, as long as you don’t go jumping from your dragon with a death wish without letting him know first.

“That was…” you trail off in bliss. There’s a satisfied smile on your face, one that makes Garrick preen. Your eyes are shut and the lazy way you stroke his hair makes him fall harder, melt further into your body. “Thank you.”

“No,” he counters gently, brushing your hair from your face. It’s damp for an entirely different reason than the lake now, stuck to your skin with sweat. “Thank you,” he says, and leans down for one more intoxicating kiss.

[xo100]

hii i have this idea. yn and lando dont know each other yet. yn is driving back from work crashes into lando and his mclaren (small accident nothing big) and lando is mad until he sees her and love at first sight haha and offers to help her with insurance and tries to get her number and shes just confused and doesnt know who he is.

Thank youu in advance.

A Minor Collision, A Major Connection - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 2796

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

The Friday afternoon sky was draped in golden hues as Y/N tiredly made her way back home after a long, grueling day at work. The office had been a madhouse—endless meetings, deadlines creeping up, and not enough coffee to power through it all. The only thing keeping her going was the thought of collapsing onto her couch and losing herself in a Netflix binge.

Her car, a reliable little sedan, buzzed softly as she cruised down the quiet city streets. She sighed, tuning out the low hum of traffic around her. It was just another day, nothing special. That is, until—

BANG!

Y/N’s heart lurched as her car jerked to the side. She slammed on the brakes, gripping the steering wheel tightly. Her mind raced through what just happened. Did she hit something? Or worse… someone?

Her pulse spiked as she fumbled to unbuckle her seatbelt and threw open the door. But when she stepped out to inspect the damage, the first thing she saw wasn’t a crumpled bumper or a mangled fender. No, it was a sleek, dark blue sports car, glossy and absurdly out of place against the backdrop of regular vehicles. Her little sedan had smacked into the rear of it.

“Great,” she muttered, pushing a hand through her hair. Her car had bumped into what was probably one of the most expensive cars in the city, if not the country.

And standing beside it, inspecting the minor damage with a furrowed brow and an expression that was a blend of frustration and disbelief, was none other than Lando Norris. Though Y/N had no clue who he was. To her, he was just some annoyed guy standing next to his ruined car.

“What were you even doing?!” the man exclaimed, turning towards her with his arms outstretched in exasperation. His voice held a British lilt, his tone more incredulous than angry.

Y/N froze. “I—I didn’t see you! You came out of nowhere!”

“Out of nowhere?” he echoed, shaking his head as he knelt to inspect his McLaren’s bumper. There was a tiny dent, barely noticeable, but to him, it was as if the whole car had been wrecked. He took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm himself.

Y/N bit her lip, anxiety creeping up her spine. Her mind was a mess—how much was this going to cost her? Could insurance even cover damages on a car that expensive? This whole situation was unreal.

But then something strange happened.

The man, still crouched by the car, lifted his head to look at her properly for the first time. His eyes met hers, and his expression softened. He blinked, standing slowly as if he was trying to process something. His initial frustration seemed to melt away, replaced by a bemused sort of interest.

“Uh… Are you okay?” he asked, his tone much gentler now, his earlier irritation completely gone.

Y/N blinked. Wasn’t he supposed to be mad at her? She had just hit his expensive car, after all. Why was he suddenly acting so… concerned?

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, folding her arms across her chest. “I’m just… sorry about your car.”

Lando, however, waved her apology away like it was nothing. “Don’t worry about the car. It’s really not that bad.”

Y/N gave him a skeptical look. “Really? Because it looks like I did a number on it.”

He glanced back at the car, then at her, before letting out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, well, it’s just a car. What matters is that you’re alright.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. This guy was acting way too nice for someone whose luxury car had just been rear-ended. She couldn’t help but feel like there was something off about his sudden shift in mood.

“Okay…” she trailed off awkwardly, unsure of how to respond. “But still, we should probably exchange insurance info. I don’t know how much this is going to cost to fix.”

Lando’s expression brightened at the mention of exchanging information, and for a split second, Y/N swore she saw a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Yeah, sure, insurance,” he replied, reaching for his phone, “but honestly, it’s not that big of a deal. I can handle it on my own. Maybe we can just forget about it? I could… help you out.”

Y/N’s confusion deepened. Help her out? Wasn’t it her fault in the first place? Why was he acting like this was no big deal? And why was he looking at her like that, like he was trying to keep her there longer than necessary?

Lando shifted his weight, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I don’t mean to sound weird, but… do you, uh, live around here?”

“Why?” Y/N asked cautiously, narrowing her eyes at him.

Lando chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. He suddenly felt like a nervous schoolboy, which was ridiculous because he was Lando Norris, F1 driver and world-class athlete, yet here he was fumbling over his words.

“Well, I just thought maybe we could grab a coffee or something. You know, after we sort all this out.”

Y/N blinked at him, utterly bewildered. “Wait. You want to get coffee? With me? After I just hit your car?”

Lando shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Yeah. Why not? Accidents happen. And… I guess I think you’re kind of cute.”

Her eyes widened. Was this guy for real? She’d just crashed into his sports car and now he was trying to flirt with her?

“Uh… I don’t even know your name,” she said slowly, still trying to wrap her head around the situation.

He grinned, sticking out his hand. “I’m Lando. Lando Norris.”

She stared at his outstretched hand for a moment before taking it hesitantly. “Y/N. And, um… nice to meet you?”

Lando’s smile widened, his earlier frustration completely forgotten as he focused entirely on her. “Nice to meet you too, Y/N. So, about that coffee…”

“I’m sorry, are you seriously asking me out right now?” she asked, a slight laugh escaping her lips. “After I hit your car?”

Lando shrugged again, that mischievous glint back in his eyes. “What can I say? I’m a pretty forgiving guy.”

Y/N shook her head, still half-expecting this whole thing to be some sort of bizarre dream. “Okay, but… you didn’t even get my insurance information yet. Isn’t that why we’re still standing here?”

Lando waved a dismissive hand. “Like I said, it’s really no big deal. I’ll take care of it. Just… let me get your number, and we’ll figure it out from there.”

Now she was really suspicious. “My number?”

He grinned sheepishly. “For the insurance, of course.”

Y/N stared at him, trying to figure out if he was messing with her or if he was actually being serious. She wasn’t sure what was stranger—the fact that he was acting like the accident was nothing or the fact that he seemed more interested in getting her number than fixing his expensive car.

But there was something about him, something oddly charming, even though the whole situation was insane. Maybe it was his easygoing nature or the way he didn’t seem to care about the damage at all. Or maybe it was the way he kept looking at her, like she was the most interesting person he’d met all day.

With a sigh, she reached for her phone. “Fine. But I’m giving you my number strictly for insurance purposes.”

Lando’s grin grew wider, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Strictly insurance purposes. Got it.”

As she handed him her number, Y/N couldn’t help but shake her head in disbelief. What had started as a minor accident was quickly turning into the weirdest encounter of her life.

“Alright,” she said, putting her phone away, “I’ve gotta go. But, um, thanks for not being too mad about the car.”

Lando chuckled, leaning casually against his McLaren. “Like I said, it’s just a car. But you… well, you’re worth more than any car.”

Y/N stared at him, unsure whether to laugh or be weirded out by the line. “Uh, okay. Well… take care.”

As she got back into her car, Lando watched her with a grin still on his face. Maybe the accident wasn’t so bad after all. After all, he’d managed to meet someone who had caught his attention in a way no one else had.

And as Y/N drove away, still shaking her head at the absurdity of it all, she couldn’t help but wonder just what she’d gotten herself into.

-

The weekend had finally arrived, and despite the awkward car crash, Y/N had managed to put it out of her mind. She wasn’t expecting to hear from Lando again. After all, rich guys like him probably had people to take care of things like insurance claims. She figured she’d given him her number for nothing more than a courtesy exchange.

That was, until her phone buzzed the next morning.

She glanced at the screen, eyebrows shooting up at the unknown number. Hesitating for a second, she finally opened the message.

Lando: Hey, it’s Lando. The guy whose car you hit? Not sure if you remember me, but I’ve got some paperwork for insurance and stuff. Thought we could meet up and go over it?

Y/N rolled her eyes, half-amused. It was still weird to her that someone so nonchalant about the accident was bothering to text her. She tapped out a quick response.

Y/N: Yeah, I remember. Where and when?

He replied almost immediately.

Lando: How about that coffee I mentioned? There’s a café in the city, small, chill. We can talk there?

Coffee again? He really wasn’t subtle. Y/N bit her lip, debating. She didn’t have anything to do that afternoon anyway, and she supposed she owed him at least a meeting about the insurance.

So, reluctantly, she agreed.

-

The café Lando had suggested was tucked away on a quiet street corner, its large windows letting in the warm afternoon sun. Y/N pushed open the door, immediately greeted by the rich scent of roasted coffee beans. She scanned the room, expecting Lando to be hidden away somewhere.

Instead, she saw him immediately.

Sitting casually at a table near the window, dressed in a simple hoodie and jeans, he waved when he saw her. His face lit up with a boyish grin that made him seem far less intimidating than the guy she’d crashed into just days before.

“Hey,” he greeted as she approached, standing to pull out a chair for her. “You made it.”

“Yeah, well, I figured we should get this insurance stuff sorted,” she replied, sitting down. She couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lingered on her just a bit longer than necessary.

Lando chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, the insurance thing…”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, folding her arms over her chest. “You did bring the paperwork, right? That’s why we’re here?”

He looked slightly sheepish, then reached into his bag and pulled out a few documents. “Of course. Got everything right here.”

She eyed him suspiciously, but nodded. “Okay, good. Let’s get it over with.”

Lando handed her the papers, but as she scanned them, he leaned back in his chair, watching her with an amused expression. He wasn’t saying anything, but Y/N could practically feel his eyes on her.

Finally, she looked up. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Just… you’re very focused. Kind of cute.”

Y/N groaned, shaking her head. “Are you seriously flirting with me right now? This is the second time you’ve done that.”

Lando shrugged, his grin widening. “Can’t help it. You kind of walked into my life by crashing into my car. Feels like fate, doesn’t it?”

She rolled her eyes. “Or just bad driving.”

“Or that,” he agreed with a laugh.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his easygoing attitude. There was something about him that made it hard to stay annoyed. He had this infectious charm, the kind that made you forget about everything else. She didn’t know much about him, other than his name and the fact that he clearly had a lot of money, but there was something undeniably likable about him.

Still, she wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily.

“So, Lando,” she began, setting the papers down, “what exactly do you do? Because you’ve got a really fancy car, and you act like a guy who’s used to getting what he wants.”

His grin didn’t falter. “You don’t know?”

She shook her head. “No clue. Should I?”

Lando leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Well, I’m a Formula 1 driver. Kind of a big deal in motorsport.”

Y/N stared at him for a moment, processing his words. Then she blinked, completely unfazed. “Okay, so… you’re like a racecar driver?”

He laughed at how nonchalantly she said it. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Huh.” She sat back in her chair, crossing her arms. “That explains the car.”

“Explains a lot of things,” he teased, his eyes twinkling. “Still, I’m surprised you didn’t recognize me. It’s kind of refreshing, actually.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

“Most people know who I am,” he admitted. “It’s nice to meet someone who doesn’t immediately treat me like I’m… you know, famous.”

“Well, lucky for you, I don’t follow racing,” she said with a small smile. “I’m just trying to figure out why a guy like you is wasting time flirting with a girl who wrecked his car.”

Lando leaned forward, his playful expression softening slightly. “Because maybe I like that girl who wrecked my car.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the sudden sincerity in his tone. She wasn’t sure what to make of this whole situation. The flirty banter was one thing, but now it felt like there was something more behind his words. Something genuine.

“I don’t get it,” Y/N said, shaking her head. “We’ve barely talked. You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough,” Lando replied, his gaze locking with hers. “And I want to get to know more.”

Y/N swallowed, feeling a strange mix of nerves and curiosity. This wasn’t what she’d expected when she agreed to meet him. She thought it would be a quick, awkward conversation about insurance, not… this.

“Lando, I don’t even know if I want to date someone right now,” she admitted, unsure of what else to say.

He nodded, his expression serious. “That’s fair. I’m not asking for anything big. Just… let me take you out sometime. No pressure. If you don’t like it, we’ll call it even, and you never have to see me again.”

Y/N hesitated, searching his face for any sign that he was messing with her. But all she saw was sincerity. He wasn’t being pushy or demanding, just… hopeful.

After a long pause, she finally sighed. “Fine. One date. But if you turn out to be some crazy celebrity playboy, I’m out.”

Lando’s grin returned, brighter than ever. “Deal.”

-

A week later, Y/N found herself walking into a small, intimate restaurant Lando had chosen for their first date. She was nervous, still unsure about the whole thing, but when she saw him waiting at the entrance with that same goofy grin, her nerves eased a little.

The night went better than she could’ve imagined. Lando wasn’t just some cocky racecar driver—he was funny, down-to-earth, and surprisingly sweet. He asked about her job, her hobbies, her favorite books, and genuinely seemed interested in everything she said. By the end of the night, Y/N realized she was actually having fun.

As they left the restaurant, Lando walked her to her car, the same little sedan that had started this whole mess. He turned to her, hands in his pockets, a slightly shy smile on his face.

“So,” he began, “how was it? Am I still in your good books, or are you planning to never see me again?”

Y/N smiled, shaking her head. “You’re still in the good books.”

“Good to know,” Lando replied, relief evident in his voice. “I guess that means I can ask for another date?”

Y/N bit her lip, pretending to think about it. “Yeah, I guess you can.”

Lando’s grin was contagious, and before Y/N knew it, she was smiling too.

And just like that, a minor collision had turned into something unexpected. Something more.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

[sweetfictionalworld]

Mine

Pairing: The Front Man /Hwang In-ho x Female Reader x The Masked Officer

Requested by anon: Reader being with the frontman, and the black guard just like to tease her and get the Frontman angry. Little did he know that the frontman was watching everything and put them both in their place.

Warnings: Nsfw, Smut, Oral Sex, Fingering, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Unprotected Sex, Cumshots.

"Mask off."

You obeyed the Officer's command, holding your gaze to the floor as the handsome man approached you.

"How many times have you been here now, y/n?"

"Five, Sir."

"You know, I've always wondered why a pretty, little thing like you ended up here of all places."

"Does it really matter?" you asked and looked up at him defiantly.

The Officer chuckled and stepped closer to you, running his finger down your jawline. You could feel your heart racing at the closeness of his body and the gentle touch of his finger.

"I guess not. But I know why you keep returning. Is the Front Man really that good of a fuck that you continue killing people just to get his dick?"

Your eyes widened and your face heat up. How could he possibly know this?

"I-It's not like that," you whispered and lowered your head.

The Officer's eyes widened in realization and he smiled mockingly. "Oh, I see. You love him. I'm sorry to say it, sweetheart, but he will never love you back. That man's heart is cold as stone."

"And yours isn't?" you asked, looking up at him again. You known for a long time now, that he wanted you. He was always flirting with you, calling you to his office for no apparent reason, just to tease you. And you would be lying to say that he didn't have an affect on you, he was a handsome and attractive man for sure. And a part of you wanted to make the Front Man jealous, to find out if he really cared about you or not.

The Officer smiled at your question. "You're probably right. In a place like this, who has the time to care about someone? But, it can't stop one from having a little fun."

He palmed your face and you held your breath as he lowered his face to yours, his lips nearly touching yours...

"Officer, back away."

You gasped at the Front Man's voice, the Officer only let go off your face and looked at his captain with a wide smirk, not caring about the fact that his helmet was off in front of his superior officer.

"Sorry, Captain. We were just...having a little conversation."

The Front Man walked up to the two of you, placing himself behind you with his hand on your shoulder.

"I do not share my belongings, Officer. And this one belongs to me."

A pang of heat rushed through your belly at his words.

"Oh? Are you sure that's what she thinks too? That she belongs to you?"

"I know so. Because she does everything I demand of her," the Front Man replied. "Now, sit down, Officer."

The Officer glared at the Front Man but did what he ordered, knowing what the consequences would be if he disobeyed.

"Y/n. Take your clothes off."

A wave of heat rushed through your core at his words and you bit down on your lip as you glanced up at the Officer and saw the spark of interest in his eyes where he sat in his armchair with his legs crossed. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to calm your nerves. What choice did you have but to obey? And did you really want to disobey him? Opening your eyes, you held your gaze on the floor as you took of your mask and started undressing with trembling fingers, too self-conscious to meet the Officer's eyes.

In-ho smirked where he stood behind you, his dick twitching at the sight of your naked, tempting form.

You shot a glance upwards at the Officer, arousal spiking through your at the sight of his lust-filled eyes staring at your naked body.

"On your knees, y/n."

Cheeks flushed, you obeyed his command and dropped down to the floor.

In-ho smirked and lifted your chin, his voice dark and husky as he spoke again.

"Open that pretty mouth of yours."

You obeyed again, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue as the Front Man zipped down his slacks and took out his cock.

The Front Man tapped the head of his cock against your tongue. You flicked your tongue across the slit of the head, earning a breathy growl from the Front Man. Encouraged by his noises, you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. Slowly, you started bobbing your head, sliding your lips up and down his length. With each bob, you took more and more of him into your mouth until you started to gag.

"See what a good girl she is?" In-ho smirked and looked up at the Officer who kept staring at the sight in front of him. "She does everything I tell her to do. Even here. In front of you."

The Front Man grunted and grabbed your head, pressing you down on his cock and bucked his hips against your face. You choked and spluttered as his length pushed down your throat. The Front Man growled and released the grip on your head, allowing you to breathe. Gasping for air, you stared up at him and glanced over at the officer. A pang of heat rushed through your belly when you saw the cock in his hand, his brown eyes focused on you as he stroke himself.

The Front Man wrapped his hand around your throat and forced you to look at him. You gasped and stared up at the masked man.

"See how much he enjoys seeing your mouth wrapped around my cock? I bet he's gonna love seeing me ravage you."

"Please...," you whimpered, squeezing your thighs together to lighten the throbbing arousal.

"What's that?" The Front Man snickered and lowered his hand down between your legs, slipping his long finger through your wet folds and into your soaked pussy. You gasped and grabbed his arm, moaning with pleasure at finally having something inside your aching core. In-ho growled at the sensation of your spongy flesh gripping his finger and the sloppy noises your pussy was making as he moved his finger inside you.

"You're absolutely drenched. You want me inside you, little one?"

"Y-Yes, Sir...please...," you mewled, nearly sobbing as you desperately rode his finger.

The Front Man chuckled and removed his fingers, leaving you feeling empty and greedy for more. Your blurry mind was abruptly woken by his cock plunging into you from behind. Back arching and eyes widening, you looked at him over your shoulder, at the erotic sight of him crouching above you and pounding his cock into your gaping, soppy count. You caught something in the corner of your eyes and suddenly remembered the Officer was there. The sight he was giving you sent another wave of pleasure through your belly. He was still stroking himself, his pace faster now, matching the pace of The Front Man's hips. His mouth was half open, his chest heaving rapidly with breathy moans as he watched The Front Man fucking you from behind.

All of these impressions flooding your body and mind were too overwhelming, and you couldn’t control your body anymore as another gush of pleasure swept through your body. Throwing your head back, you pressed your ass back against The Front Man's hips, rutting against him erratically as your orgasm rolled like waves through your body.

In-ho growled and threw his head back at the feeling of your fluttering, clenching walls gripping his cock. He slammed into you one last time, his cock swelling and throbbing as spurts of his thick cum released into your cunt. Your eyes landed on the Officer just as he came, and a fountain of white semen erupted from his cock and painted the floor. You mewled softly at the sight, your pussy gently clenching around the Front Man's cock still lodged inside you as your body relaxed in post-orgasmic bliss. Then, you felt The Front Man's fingers in your hair and you gasped as he yanked your head back, forcing you to look at the Officer.

"This pussy will never be yours, Officer," The Front Man snarled. "You understand that? It belongs to me and I can fuck it whenever and wherever I want. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir," the Officer swallowed nervously and quickly put himself back into his jumpsuit.

"Good. Now, come along, little one. I'm not finished with you."

Face flushed with embarrassment, you stood up and scrambled your clothes together, following the The Front Man with your head bowed, already feeling the burn of his paddle on your ass.

[bloodfiendarling]

𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓾𝓹

— ( do note this ask was sent before my rules post was out but ill let it pass bcz it doesnt break any rules )

ah hello ! !! this is the first time im writing for jingyuan sama ..! hopefully its to your liking anon .. <:D tho i did self indulge a lil much on this ... hopefully you still like it x_x

also , yes .! i love ryona . i dig it a lot .. please dont b scared to req anything with dark themes .. i will be cheering you on !

pair — reader x jing yuan

wc — ~1k

contains — sub bottom char, dom top reader, established relationship, gn reader, possessive reader, jealousy, (false) cheating suspicions, reader is kinda fucked up in the head, size difference (smaller reader), thigh humping, dry humping, reader is pretty forceful

you couldn’t stand it.

the way he would ignore you sometimes, when you two just wouldn’t be able to have some pda for the sake of his reputation. it pissed you off.

you want to love him! show him off, maybe. hug him, kiss him, hold his hand.. all in public. but you can’t — because he has a reputation to uphold here. and what made you more mad is the fact you’d hear your own colleagues talk about him. how they want to get with him.

what pissed you off the most about today, though? you heard someone spreading rumors. dating rumors. not between you and jing yuan, no. (you would’ve appreciated that, really) it was between him and some other woman — one that he’s been working with for a good while.

you clicked your tongue, entering his office. even just from your face it was obvious you were in a horrible mood.

“oh?” he started, with that usual lazy smile of his — “my dear, something on your mind?”

he shifted in his seat, adjusting himself so you could sit yourself beside him — which, you do — letting out a tired sigh. “rumours about you again, love.” you respond.

“mm, it’s the one with that woman, i assume?”

you click your tongue again. just hearing anything related to her set you off — c’mon, now.. it’s not like they’re actually together.. your dearest would never, ever betray you in such a way.

but you see the way that woman was — how she was smiling and all. laughing those rumors off, all while clearly enjoying the attention she got. it disgusts you. it worsens your mood more and more as you thought about it.

the general could sense your frustration — almost as if he read your mind. his expression softened a little bit, this time looking at you. watching you biting on your nail, whilst the other hand was balled into a fist, resting on your thigh.

“hey,” you looked back at him. the frustration was clear in your eyes. even you, yourself didn’t get it. what were you so angry about…? you can’t help but take it out on him. “you love me, right, jing yuan?”

“of course I do.” he replies — it’s short. it’s obvious. but in your messed up little head, it felt like nothing but a lie.

“prove it.”

“wha–?”

“prove it, i said.” you lean into him, a hand against his stomach. the gold part of his belt felt cool against your palm. for a second, it gives you shivers.

“here..?” the general’s voice was filled with uncertainty. “the door is still unlo–”

“that doesn’t matter.” you interrupt, “they’re not allowed to come in, right? locked or not. just tell them to leave if someone knocks. simple.”

jing yuan gulped down, eyeing the door once more before giving in — fumbling with his belt. slowly but surely getting that corset-like piece of armor loose and discarding it completely.

he’s so obedient whenever you were mad…

“c’mere.” you pat on your thigh, inviting him to sit on it — he does, obeying you. you were upset, he didn’t want your mood to go even lower. though, due to jing yuan being bigger than you, he was quite hesitant on putting his entire weight — he knows he’s quite heavy.. but you insist he sits down properly.

he felt shy all of a sudden — putting his hands on your shoulders, nuzzling his face into your neck. you didn’t know if this shyness was a result of the position, or the fact the door was very much unlocked — maybe both.

you had a hand on his lower back, as if inviting for the white-haired general — your free hand decided to run through his hair. it’s so soft… how could you not?

jing yuan lets out a whimper, hips moving on his own. slowly but surely running them up and down your thigh. his own legs shaking. you slip your hand into the side of his pants — feeling around his waist. he jolts at your cold hands, letting out a small gasp. those hands of yours continue to trace through his body, feeling his breath grow a little faster. feeling all over his back, his hips, his waist, him. just him.

you wanted to escalate this, though, you heard something. something he feared. a knock at the door.

“jing yuan, sir?”

a voice is heard, calling to the general. you could clearly hear his breath hitch. “a– ah.. who—nnh–!”

those hands of yours continued to tease him. featherlight touches all over his body, teasing him by slipping your hands into his pants every now and then — watching your darling general explain why the person couldn’t come in — stuttering on his words, trying to reason with them..

you felt mean today. you were in a shitty mood, after all.

he lets out a sigh of release when they finally decide to go — whoever that was leaving his office alone for another time. finally, he gets to calm down.

“i love you.” you whisper into his ear suddenly, “you love me too, right? you wouldn’t go for that woman, right? right?”

why did you doubt him, even?

you don’t know, nor did you care. all you wanted to hear was an ‘i love you, too’ from the general.. your general.

his weight was kind of crushing you.. but you didn’t mind it much. you pressed a kiss onto his neck, sucking into it to form a hickey. then another… and another. it didn’t take too long for his entire neck to be covered by them. you loved it.. marking him up as yours (as if wasn’t already..)

“m’gonna–” his grinding was growing a bit more desperate — damn, already?

“go on. show me how much you love me.” — those words made him whimper, closing his eyes. you pulled on his hair, yanking his head so jing yuan was looking at you — grabbing his face with one of your hands and inviting him into a messy kiss — tongue being forcefully shoved into his mouth.

“i love you, i love you, i love you.. mmMH—!” he said between eager gasps, feeling his orgasm washing over him. you could, too — that warm feeling on your thigh.

he wraps his big arms around you, moans being muffled by the kiss. he just couldn’t get enough, can he? he wouldn’t even care anymore if someone came in and saw him this way. neither did you. at least they’d know you were his.

“i love you, darling. please ruin me..”

hsr masterlist ♥︎

[maxlarens]

Hi! Can i request friends for lovers with lando saying "i can't seem to take neither my eyes, nor my mind off of you, [name]." ✨🫶 thank you

usually i am so Consumed by the idea of the ✨Tension✨ of friends to lovers that i never do a confession scene but here is me making good on that finally. i hope u liked this anon!!!! sorry it took a while.

In hindsight, you think you should have woken up that morning and known. Known via some cosmic force that today was going to be it— the day you’d been waiting basically a decade for, the day you don't think you'll forget as long as you live—

Instead, you wake up bolt upright at three in the morning, heart beating frantic in your chest, to five missed calls from your best friend.

"What?", you groan, angry, into the phone, then, realising he's calling you at three in the morning, a more concerned note seeps into your tone, "Lan, is that you? You alright?"

"I locked myself out," is the gravelly reply.

"You locked yourself out?"

"I— yes," he hisses down the line, "I forgot my keys okay."

You snort, say, "You're a silly billy," without thinking anything of it.

You'll attribute it to sleep deprivation later, but you'll also find that Lando thinks nothing further of it, too used to you throwing affectionate nicknames his way—

"Shuddup," he mumbles.

You think he's drunk, at least tipsy. He'd said something offhandedly on your FaceTime call yesterday about going out with a few friends you don't know. Besides, there's a slur to his words, a tiredness.

"Come up already," you tell him.

"'M right outside."

You hum in confirmation that you've heard him, put your phone back on the nightstand and slip out from under the covers. You're wearing a sweatshirt that's three sizes too big it might be Lando's and pink fuzzy socks, you feel goosebumps rise on your legs as you pad to the front door. You lean heavily against the wall, closing your eyes as you unlock the padlock and swing it open for your friend.

Lando stumbles in. You twist around to look at him. He's not as drunk as you thought he might be. Sleepy though. You can tell by the squint of his eyes, how they're red rimmed and the mess of his hair. Run through too many times with his hand.

"You want your spare key?", you question as Lando turns on his heel, finding you at the sound of your voice.

He frowns, looking at you like you've grown two heads. Crease forming between his eyebrows.

"Nuh," he shakes his head, then reaches forward to take your wrist, hauling you back through the apartment, "Let's go sleep."

You shrug, acquiescing as he leads you to your bedroom. If you hadn't just been woken up from a dead sleep you might have felt a little weird about it. Paid attention to the stirring feeling low in your gut. Instead, you slip into bed and pull the covers back for Lando without a care in the world.

It's not that weird, you think as he kicks off his shoes and rummages around on your hanging rail for a shirt big enough for him. He finds one that you're sure was originally his. You look away as he changes, shucking out of the short sleeve button up you'd helped him pick out, peeling off chinos you'd also picked out. There's a pair of his gym shorts laying around somewhere, you know it— but he doesn't bother to look for them. Just pulls the t-shirt on over his bare tan chest and climbs in next to you.

You've done this before. Many times. And the two of you make a deliberate point of not being weird about, even though it's been a point of contention in every relationship either of you have had to date. And you don't know what it is tonight this morning, but his presence next to you is making your chest tight. Something skitters up your spine as he slots into your space.

As casual as ever he slings an arm over your waist, tugs you closer to him and presses the line of his nose into the back of your neck. Briefly, he reaches to swipe your hair out of the way, mumbling something about it tickling him.

There's something set ablaze in your stomach.

"G'night, babe," he mutters, breath fanning your ear.

God. You have to suppress a shiver. The babe thing isn't even anything different, he calls you that often enough mostly when he's had something to drink, there's just something about it right now. When you're sleep-woozy and he's just undressed in front of you. Maybe you had a weird dream about him again and you can't remember it, even if your subconscious does.

You bite down on your tongue, answer, "Sleep tight, Lan."

He hums. You crack your neck to stop from letting out a noise that would be utterly indecent right now. Unaware, Lando puts his nose right back in the same spot. You lie there for a while, wired and buzzing, until you hear his breathing steady and deepen as he falls asleep. And even though you feel like every nerve ending in your body is on fire, sleep finds you too.

You wake up again, later, to the morning sun pouring in through your curtains. It lights up the empty space on the bed in front of you. Acreage of bed, pillow, not taken up by anyone.

Still, on your other side, Lando's in your personal space to a degree that you don't realise at first. You wake up disoriented, grappling to remember the events of early that morning. There’s still no cosmic thing telling you that you need to remember today. Commit every single second to memory as it happens. You try to roll over, feeling warmth at your back but not thinking anything of it until Lando gripes something unintelligible into your ear—

Okay. Memories return to you now.

You start to contextualise the skin on yours.

Lando's arm is still slung around your waist, but his hand has made it's way underneath your jumper. Fingers dig into the plush skin of your bare stomach, clutching like you'll slip out of his grasp if he's not careful. Somehow, the other arm has forced it's way under your pillow and you can feel the line of his body against your back, where he's gotten as close to you as he could manage. His legs tangle with yours, one of them spreading out into your space, strewn diagonally across the bed. His knee presses up into the meat of your thigh.

You try not to think how easily your bodies fit together.

You're still for a while. Drifting in and out of sleep. You're comfortable, above all else. You don't really want Lando to move. This certainly isn't the first time you've woken up like this, tangled up with each other, you're betting you'll be able to pass it off with a silly comment once Lando wakes up. You'll extract yourselves from each other and get on with your day like usual.

No big deal—

Lando wakes up half an hour or so later and acts like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He yawns loudly into your ear and rolls over without fanfare—

No big deal—

It's only when you're in the kitchen together— cooking bacon and eggs while Lando drinks coffee from your espresso machine— that the cracks start to show.

You glance at him sideways, watching as he gnaws at the inside of his mouth. His eyes slip off you, directing to the sizzling pan, “What’s up?”, you ask, “Something happen?”

He shakes his head, too quickly, “No. Nope— I—”

He tapers off his sentence, shaking his head. Nose scrunching momentarily. You raise an eyebrow but don’t think much of it. It’s Lando, he’ll tell you if it’s important. Plus, you’re kinda busy right now making sure the eggs don’t burn. A few minutes pass, you ask him to grab plates. He says okay and then drags out an,

“Um,” for so long that you’re a little concerned.

Something nervous flutters in your chest, you’re turning the heat on the burner down low before you know why. You’ve just been friends with Lando for so long, you know when there’s something heavy in his words, when there’s something on the tip of his tongue.

You turn to give him your full attention, your eyebrows furrowing as you look up at him.

“Plates, Lan?”

He’s staring at you. Like, staring at you. Like, slack-jawed, eyes glittering, staring. Like how the guy looks at the girl at the end of every rom-com ever. Like how Harry looks at Sally in every fucking scene of your favourite movie of all time. Like—

Shit. Do you have a massive fuck off pimple on your face? Have you turned blue? Are you being completely out of your mind delusional right now? Because there’s something suddenly wreaking havoc in your stomach. And you really do want to believe that Lando is looking at you in that way, and not just because you’ve got something embarrassing on your face—

“Lando,” you say, firmly, urgency to it, “Spit it out.”

He shakes his head.

You put a hand on his bicep, “Lando.”

It’s got to be that. It’s got to be—

God, your chest feels tight. Your skin feels like it’s on fire. He’s not even said anything yet!

It’s got to be—

He blinks. You think your sudden intensity has made him nervous because he rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck from side to side. A little groan escapes his lips.

“I just—” he sighs heavily, as if it’s too hard to force out; but he’s still looking at you, “What if, I was— ugh, no, nothing, it’s fine—”

“What if you were what?”, it’s out of your mouth before you can think. You think you know exactly what the end of his sentence is. You think perhaps you are too. A pause, then, being braver than you thought you could be, you add, “In love with me?”

He looks immediately as if you’ve sucker punched him right in the gut. Eyes wide and wet and red-rimmed, like kicked puppy, a pleading dog. There’s something scared, nervous, in the set of his shoulders as well. You watch them draw up to his chin as he tries to sink into them.

“Why would you say that?” His voice is downright panicked, “How did you know that?”

Your heart stops beating in your chest, drops into your stomach and falls right out your ass. You shake your head,

“I didn’t. I didn’t. I just guessed, Lan,” you realise your hand is still on his bicep, you squeeze, “Are you?”

“Am I?”, he looks slightly incredulous, baffled at what you’re saying like it’s supposed to be obvious that he is, “Jesus. Of course I am. I can’t– I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re there all the time. And y’know, I see you and you’re just,” he waves an arm between the two of you, gesturing up and down at your body, “You’re fucken’ gorgeous. And you don’t say a thing when we wake up together and I’m basically, on top of you—”

“You don’t say anything either,” you gripe, even though there’s something like joy clawing up your throat, “I thought it was normal.”

Lando tips his head back, groans something halfway filthy, “Normal. I didn’t let half my exes sleep over, and I turned around if they did sleep in my bed. And— fuck, y’know— my keys are actually in my pants pocket right now. I was out drinking and having fun and all I could think about was how much I missed you. How much I just wanted to like, crawl into bed with you.”

“You arsehole.”

“What?”

“You arsehole,” you repeat, “I would have let you in anyway. You didn’t have to lie.”

For a long minute, Lando gapes at you like a fish out of water. Briefly, you think maybe you’ve screwed it by being too mean. It’s never stopped you before, but you’ve also never been in this exact situation with Lando before, frighteningly enough—

One second you’re running through all the possible apologies you could give to make it better, to smooth it all over, and then the next Lando is kissing you—

Or, you feel his hand on your chin first, your mouth forming the first letter of shit, sorry Lan, and then suddenly his mouth is slanting across yours. He tastes a bit like morning breath and a lot like bitter coffee, but his mouth is wet and soft and your lips slot together so perfectly. You put a hand in his curls and find that it feels different to when you card your fingers through his hair.

God.

He’s got a hand on your waist and he’s digging his fingers into your jaw like you’re going to pull away from him without warning and never come back.

“Lan,” you say into his mouth, he pauses long enough for you to speak, lips hovering, nearly touching, “‘M not going anywhere.”

He shakes his head, slanting forward to kiss you again, “No, you’re not,” he pulls back again, pressing his forehead to yours, green-as-grass eyes boring into yours, “Please say you’re in love with me right now?”

Despite yourself, you raise an eyebrow, “Are you in love with me?”

He sighs something ragged out through his nose, kisses you again, says, “‘Course, I’m in love with you. How could I not be,” into your mouth.

You hum from the back of your throat, tongue slipping forward to press against his teeth, tangling against his, “Then of course I am, Lan,” you echo.

How could you not be?

u just know all of lando's gfs/situationships HATED the fuck out of her

[na0koz]

jinx getting jealous and makin u pay for it :P

nsfw!!! MDNI. cw: blood, knives, kinda dubcon i guess?, strap use

anon request! wouldn’t let me respond to it in a post. this is my first time writing proper smut sorry if it’s bad

toxic!jinx masterlist

today was one of the few days you weren’t planning on hanging out with jinx, but obviously you ended up doing just that. jinx was just checking up on you, watching you work from the very back corner of the cute little coffee shop you were studying in (sometimes she is baffled by the fact that you have never ever noticed her stalking you. she is in plain sight half the time) when someone from your class comes in and approaches you at your table.

you smile up at them, moving your bag so they can sit opposite you and the two of you start chatting. several minutes go by, your studies long forgotten as you get to know your classmate, someone who you hadn’t really spoken to much before. jinx on the other hand, hasn’t moved a muscle and has barely even blinked as she watches the interaction unfold before her, eyes flickering between the two of you before noticing your classmate pulling their phone out.

jinx damn near gets up out of her seat when she sees you take their phone and type what jinx assumes was your phone number. she finally moves, though only to start bouncing her leg up and down, waiting for an opportunity to question you. she’s bitten her lip so hard that it bleeds.

after what feels like an eternity, your classmate leaves. jinx already knows their name and perhaps even their address after somehow finding a list of everyone in your class and researching each of them. they will face their punishment in due course. as soon as the door closes behind them, jinx is up and stomping towards your table.

the sudden movement opposite you as she sits down causes you to look up again from your laptop and you exclaim upon seeing her. “oh! hey jinx.”

jinx doesn’t say anything in return, just licks the remaining half-dried blood from her lip.

“who was that?” she questions, leaning on her forearms over the table. she sounds annoyed, and you really really hope she isn’t as angry as she sounds.

“someone from my class. they just wanted to borrow some notes they had missed,” you explain as you gather your stuff up and put it in your bag. you know she’s gonna make you leave with her so you might as well prepare.

“hm. whatever, let’s go.”

you follow jinx out of the shop and she grabs your arm to pull you along beside her while she thinks of the quickest route back to either of your houses.

you end up at her house, the door locked behind you as you push your shoes off. jinx tugs your bag off your shoulder for you, dropping it to the floor with a thud before leading you to her room.

she starts yanking off your jacket, your clothes and finally your underwear. she sheds a couple of her own layers, but pauses when she’s just in her underwear and a tight cropped tank top. you can’t say you’re not turned on, and you brace yourself for the teasing that will likely follow when jinx forces your legs open.

in the time you imagine how she’s going to chide you for how wet you’re getting over literally nothing, she’s managed to get her strap on and pulls you onto your stomach, bending your knees for you so you’re face down, ass up on her bed. she continues wordlessly as she begins tying a turquoise rope around your wrists behind your back.

jinx lines up her dick with your already dripping hole and pushes in, making you whine into the mattress. still without a word, she starts fucking you, and hard.

you quickly build up to your orgasm, chanting jinx’s name like a prayer begging her to let you cum.

she replies with a simple “go on.” and you cum hard on her dick, a few tears escaping your eyes and soaking the sheets below.

tonight, it’s her goal to make sure you know she’s the only one who can give you what she can, as well as she can.

jinx coaxes a few more orgasms from you with her strap before she decides to opt for a new method to make you feel so good you cry.

she pulls your fucked out body into her lap and drags your arms behind her head so they looped around her neck, still bound together by the blue rope. she kicks her legs under yours to force them open and keep them that way. then, she shoves two of her fingers into your mouth.

instinctively, you start to suck, tongue curling around her slender fingers.

“mhm, that’s it. good girl.” jinx muses as she watches your lips puckering around her digits. it surprises you how much she can change when she’s fucking you, becoming dark and dominant over you.

she pulls her now wet fingers out of your mouth with a pop and traces them down the valley of your chest, along your stomach down to your pussy. she teases your clit and your puffy folds for a second before plunging her fingers into your sensitive hole. you cry out and squeeze your eyes shut, failing to notice jinx reaching behind her as she grasps for her assault knife. the one with the hot pink and turquoise handle she made herself.

as she curls her fingers inside of you, she gently prods your inner thigh with the knife and you twitch at the sudden pain. you open your eyes and look up at her, not being able to restrain the whimpers coming from your throat as jinx continues fingering you with her knife still poking you, threatening to pierce your skin.

“ji-… hurts..” you can barely get a word out from how tight the coil inside of you is.

she’s not letting you reach your orgasm on purpose. you hear her giggle at your whining through the haze of your pleasure.

“you gonna cum?” she sings at you. she’s just teasing your for her own pleasure now. freak.

“please…jinx. wanna cum so bad..” you plead with her.

“y’know no one else can make you cum like this, baby. no one else can do what i do.” she begins to drag the knife up to the space between your tits.

jinx doesn’t feel like drawing any blood from you today, but she doesn’t need to tell you that right now. she just needs to make you know that you’re hers. she owns you and she needs to punish you for making her jealous.

“tell me i’m the only one who can make you cum.” she presses down with the blade, hearing you moan even louder. she’s changed her mind now. she pulls the knife down a little, drops of blood blooming on your chest.

you’re writhing in her grip now. you’re so so close to cumming but she just won’t let you.

“go on. tell me.” jinx says bluntly before dipping her head down to lick the blood off you.

“yo-..! you’re the only one jinx! the only one who can make me cum! please- please let me..” you cry as your sentence dies on your tongue, brows furrowed and eyes shut.

she hums. “see, baby? wasn’t so hard.” she puts the knife down and finally fucking you just that little bit harder.

the band in your belly snaps and you cum so hard you see stars. your hot juices spurt out of your convulsing hole over jinx’s palm and her bedsheets. she licks the tears from your cheeks and strokes your hair with her free hand.

you relax against her, breathing heavily as she wipes the small wound she made with a cloth she had on her nightstand. she lets you calm down a little more before cleaning up your soaked pussy.

you think it’s probably best to ignore any texts from your classmate, and pretend you typed your number wrong. for their sake, not yours.

[beneathashadytree]

[ACCIDENTALLY] STOOD UP - TEXTING THE LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MEN

Warnings : general feelings of upset, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : angst to fluff <33

Additional notes : I dipped for a good bit I know, but things are all hellish on my end 😵‍💫 Anyways, thanks to an old anon for requesting this adorable one! To anyone else reading this, my requests are still closed!! These are just old requests I had in my inbox🫶🏽

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[midnite-c6]

Sequel to the thanos x namgyusgf!reader? 👀👀

hmmmm alot of ppl asked for pt. 2 of that one fic so heree, love u all anons!!

pt. 1 here <3 pt. 3 here ! <3

thanos (choi su-bong) x namgyusgf!reader pt. 2 warnings: 18+, cheating

already ⁠nsfw below!!-> (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

つ⁠｡⁠☆ ..after what felt like the most awakening time of your life, realizing how much you'd miss dick. you're thankful for your amazing friend, su-bong, there to make you feel full again. "you're so pathetic." su-bong blurted out, after hours of only sitting in his lap, escaping reality, that's what he chose to break the silence. "fuck off.." he chuckles, "mmm, of course i wouldn't call you that. your boyfriend did." you'd freeze for a moment, excuse me? he'd play the video he sent to nam-gyu a few hours ago, hearing your muffled moans against his cock, how you were gagging against him, it was only now you'd hear in the video:

"nam-gyu, this bitch is actually so fine, why are you ..fuck.. neglecting her, huhh?" why is it only now that you're hearing this? "i toldcha' bros before hoes, but never hoes who give good head." you could even see him pull on your hair harder as you cry from choking against his cock.

within your view was nam-gyu's reply,,

"that bitch is so fucking pathetic."

you were literally about to cry, they're both fucking jerks, "you sent that shit to him??" you've been caught, not even caught to be honest, he fucking outed you!! what are you gonna do now? you swear you were an angel ! "don't worry, i was just bragging about you, trust me, i'm sure he's learnt his lesson." you'd get off his lap immediately, slapping him across the face, and he immediately wraps his hand around your neck. "whatcha tryna do? learn your place, slut. you're the one who wanted it." "that's fuck- i -" you can't even defend or explain yourself. "you did that shit sober too." his stupid giggles were filling the private room, but you can't help but tear up, :(, he would sigh, patting your messy hair, "shhh, atleast it's with me, angel."

su-bong wipes your tears, "you're too fine to cry 'bout this.." leaning in to kiss you sweetly on the lips. "he deserves it remember? shiit if i was him i'd treat you so much better." you know that's not true. but the words were still nice to hear. he'd lean in to whisper in your ear, "if i was him i'd fuck you so much better. you already got the free trial, babe. c'mon tell me, am i better?" you'd calm down, quickly forgetting what he had done, "b.. better." he smiles, that was a good voice message to send to his bestfriend, your confirmation, your whiny voice. "you deserve the best, my bro can't handle 'allat." he kisses you again, "i love you, so much." was that true? it's not, obviously. "you deserve me." you slowly nodded, you were so dumb, but he was dumb aswell, so maybe two minds do think alike, the two of you deserve eachother !

bonus for the nam-gyu lovers..<3: you'd wake up alone, and mascara would already mess up your pretty face again, you'd shamefully walk back to your shared apartment with nam-gyu (though he wasn't home most of the time), but to your surprise, he'd be there, obviously.. he still lives there, fuck. he'd walk over to you, you could tell he was angry, at the peak of your relationship, he'd give that same look whenever you talk to other guys, you'd already press your hands together, "i'm. i'm sorry, i swear, i'm sorry, nam-gyu.." he tilts his head. "if you're gonna beg, fucking kneel." "i'm reallly sorry, nam-gyu..!" you didn't want to, it was so embarassing. "you're being shy now? you were having the time of your life sucking another guys dick, suddenly now you've got some shame?" obviously what other choice do you have? you'd already swallowed all your pride and ego by apologizing, and he'd happily do what su-bong did to you just a few hours ago, everytime su-bong would send a video he's pissed, so it's his turn now! "you can't fuck this bitch better than i do. got that, bro?" and the video contains you moaning out how nam-gyu's the only one who could make you feel that way! their text conversation is now filled with only your videos. 🫶🏻

i chose choi seunghyun pic bcuz um, there arent enough pre-squidgames scenes of thanos. like . they needa show them outside dem games cuz damn. i couldnt put a pic of jaewon bcuz like all of his pics are so wholesome and cute omfg 😭 . also, thanos is on namgyus team so sorry ure on ur own kid . hehe OH if u guys noticed im changing my layout now damn💔💔

[sh1-n0bu]

what punishment do you think suits for blade bcus he won't come home to me?

♡︎ 𝙥𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨 ♡︎

characters: sub!blade x gn!dom!reader

warnings: slapping, edging, squirting, mentions of handjob, bondage, degrading, dacryphilia, begging, mentions of cock slapping, masochist bladie, forced self praise and praise, slight fluff and angst if you squint, reader’s a bit mean but it’s deserved😤 also ig this is a bit of a self aware AU as well???? yeah, ig u guys could read it as a self aware AU if ur into it

notes: sorry for replying too fast anon. my period is making me horknee😔 this is more like a headcannon of what i think would be a perfect punishment for blade

DEGRADING

listen listen listen, i know this may sound a bit weird but blade hates being degraded when with you. there’s a reason why he gives off wet, pathetic, soggy cat that’s abandoned at the side of the street vibes and because of that, blade loves to be praised instead. especially since you're his lover, his darling, his sweetheart, his one and only and the only one he would do absolutely anything and everything for without even thinking. because of that, blade wants to be praised. he wants to be a good boy for you, he wants to be your sweet baby, not your dirty slut. he thinks you’re being so mean to him :((

SLAPPING

now this can be taken in many concepts. he could be begging on his knees in front of you, hands clinging to the fabrics of your clothes as hazy, teary red eyes stare at you. chewed on lips spurring out apologies after apologies like a broken record. you could slap him across the face to make him shut up, its fine since blade can handle it. besides he’s a bit of a masochist as well so he would definitely let out a whimper and rub his thighs together to get some relief on his poor hardened cock

but if it's in other places such as slapping his ass as a form of punishment, slapping his thighs until the skin is all red and sensitive or even his hard cock leaking pre all over his stomach — either way, blade would be turned into a brainless sweetheart in no time. tears falling from his eyes as he begs for you to just touch him!! touch him properly please? he’s a good boy. he’ll be a good boy, he even promises!

EDGING

blade loves being overstimulated. its one of his favorite kinks. whether it be cumming over and over and over by your hand stroking his angry cock, fingering his ass and creating filthy squelching sounds or into your mouth or hell, even riding your thighs! he loves to be close to you, after years of loneliness and isolation, blade craves intimacy. he craves that close contact, to feel the warmth of your bare skin touching his own. even better when he’s crying and sobbing from cumming into your hand for the nth time that night, blabbering drunken shit as he squirts again. but when its taken away???? when he’s so close to reaching his high and stumbling over the edge, when his hard cock is ready to paint your hands with his sticky liquid and you take it away from him????? getting your hand off of his cock and leaving him aching and whining, desperately chasing after your hand with sobbing pleas? blade thinks you’re being real mean to him :((( please just let him cum, let him cum even on the sheets if you want! he won’t soil your hand, he just wants to cum so bad and his poor cock hurts so much :((

BONDAGE

this one is almost all of the time paired with the edging one. as i've said before, blade craves intimacy, he loves being close to you physically. he loves you so fucking much, way too much to the point it hurts to even be away from you even for a little bit. there's a reason why blade chose to be close to you, a reason why he decided to open up his heart to someone else again to give another shot at life and because of that he loves you and trust you so much. you're literally the reason he realized perhaps living wouldn't be so bad after all because he has you by his side, he can go another day, another month, another year, another life-time if it means he would get to spend every waking and even sleeping moment beside you. blade loves to be physically close to you so when you take it away from him, when you tie his hands behind his back or even tie his wrists up to the bedframe, he's doing everything to break those stupid cuffs or ropes. he wants to feel you!! it doesn't even have to be in the sexual way, it can just be in a literal way. holding hands, his palm flat against your back, feeling your skin, being reminded of your warmth. but if you take it away, he's a mess. but don't worry everything is consensual of courses, and you always make sure to take care of him and the bruises afterwards. one of the most effective ways to punish him, me thinks

honorary mention: FORCED SELF PRAISE

it might come of as a bit off or out of place since i did mention that one of the suited punishments for blade would be degrading and praise is the absolute opposite for that but hEAR ME OUT!!!! blade is self conscious of his body. and i meant his scars specifically. he finds them hideous, like how can someone like you could ever find him pretty or gorgeous or all those words you praise him with? he finds it ridiculous. his body is nothing but just a meaningless weapon by now, covered with scars and phantom pains that don't go away and yet you find it so beautiful. you even make sure to make him understand that he is indeed beautiful as you place kisses on each and every last one of the scars that he bears

now this!!!! is where the forced self praise comes in. it doesn't even have to be sexual or as a form of punishment. you could just be doing your everyday ritual of praising the ever loving shit out of him with blade sitting all pretty with a cute red dusting his cheeks. he would always weakly try to refuse your praises, saying that he wasn't the most handsome man in the galaxy and that was why he was wanted and instead always offering logical answers. just accept the damn praise blade >:(((( this is where it comes in. you can softly coax him to say self assuring things. it can start out small like "i did a good job on the mission the other day", "i make a delicious pancake this morning", "i always how to make hot chocolate to cheer up my beloved" and it can range to the things that he insistently denies. make him say that he's pretty, that he's gorgeous, that his hair is long and elegant, that he's an amazing lover, how he was wanted across all galaxies because he was just so charming and dashing and amazi - okay, now his brain is way too fried with the compliments and in his desperation, he's shutting you up with a kiss. he's so adorable :333

[nottsangel]

Hear me out. Fred Weasley with the enemies to lovers trope is such a hit in the gut for me. The amount of tension, revenge thrown back and forth and let’s not mention the sexual tension involved!

When both of you are in denial of one another feelings, oh my god. It just escalates to the point where you two might just fuck it out and just forget it, trying to insult each other and see who can come out on top.

I can just imagine when Fred manages to switch positions with you after you had your fun, he holds your wrists tight with one hand above your head while he pounds into you so delicious. You’re trying so hard not to cry to satisfy his damn, big ego but he knows damn well. You could just tell by his devilish smirk plastered as he sneers down at you, degrading and mocking. 🤭

- 🍸 Anon.

babe did u see my reply to your other ask cus i still need your pronouns in order for me to add you to my emoji anons list ! <3

UGHHHHH THE TENSION !!!!!!!!! like the angry glances at you from across the room as he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. he constantly tries to tell himself how much he hates you, but at the same time he somehow keeps fantasising about you naked, under him and moaning his name.

and god the sex would be so fucking good. he finally can let out all his pent-up anger as his strong hands grip the skin of your hips so firmly, you’re certain it’s gonna leave bruises. and when you finally slip out a moan, he tries his hardest not to cum right there and then as he continues thrusting into you with your hands being held above your head and his cock filling you up so perfectly. “so bloody pathetic.”

all daydreams ੈ♡˳

[chelseeebe]

jinx

18+ mdni. no smut but eddie is a grade a asshole to poor reader. mentions of weed and alcohol throughout. eddie munson x fem reader.

a/n: first off, anon i am sooo sooooo sorry it has taken me this long to fulfill your request!! i absolutely loved this request and am absolutely honoured that you came to me for it<33 i hope i've done it justice and that you still care to read this:') side note, i've updated my masterlist as i have slacked a bit but everything should be on there now ^.^

love me some chelseeebe angst—imagine fuckboy!eddie plays at the hideout right like regularly. reader starts frequenting his show days bc she likes him obviously but he starts noticing something. every time she comes in, something goes wrong. either he messes up a chord or cant see to flirt properly therefore no one ends up warming his bed as of late or something of the sort

his immediate first thought is ‘she’s a jinx!!!’ bc what other explanation could there be in his boy brain??? so he asks her to stop coming in. she does and yet he continues to mess up bc all he can think abt is her.

itd be so sexy if u added a moment of realization/angry love confession where in the middle of him being like you’ve bewitched me or something!!! he realizes hes the one obsessed with her.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

the party hums on in the background, a small group gathered outside to rob eddie blind, smoking away his entire supply. 

robin giggles nonsensically into steve’s shoulder, too high for her own good. 

“if you’re gonna smoke all my shit, the least you can do is come watch us tomorrow,” eddie had been nagging his friends to come down the hideout for months. they’d gathered a solid crowd now, not much but it was a start. 

robin groans, nancy and jonathan shift in their seats, steve can barely muster enough energy to reply and argyle snores. hardly enthusiastic about his dreams. 

“i’ll come,” you offer, bright-eyed as you smile politely at him from the floor. 

a friend of a friend, someone robin met in class and had dutifully introduced to the group. he didn’t know you well, nor had he ever really cared to. 

“i don’t think you’d like it, sweetheart” eddie retorts, flattered that you’d try and spare his feelings but he didn’t need your pity. 

“why? you can’t be that bad,” chuckling quietly to yourself. 

his eyes narrow, scoffing, “we’re not,” misunderstanding, or maybe just not caring to humour you back, “come if you want,” he shrugs nonchalantly, not as if any of his friends had offered to attend. 

“okay,” nodding along, “i will.” 

“alright,” turning his attention back to the embering joint glued to argyles fingers. 

who cares if you come? eddie certainly doesn’t. 

-

sure enough, the same couple dozen old drunks fill the bar, their glossy, zombie-like eyes stare back at him from the floor. he’d complain but beggars can’t be choosers and all that. 

they’re partway through the second song when something reflects in his eye, a low-cut sequinned top that would definitely look better on the floor of his van. 

it’s only when his eyes travel up that he realises it’s you who’s wearing that shirt, already looking straight back at him. a newfound look about you, thick lines of black line your eyes, worlds apart from the mousy girl who’d invited herself last night. 

“and we’re-,” he sings, an abrupt case of dry mouth as the next line struggles to come out, “we’re.. uh,” the entire song erased from his memory within seconds. 

he steps back from the mic, blinking rapidly in an attempt to trigger his voice though all he can see is you and that ridiculous top. 

gareth’s head whips round, still strumming along before picking up eddie’s slack, continuing the lyrics on his own, not without a damning glare in eddie’s direction. 

holy fuck. 

he’s just, taken aback, that’s all. shocked that you’d even bother to come, less so put the effort in to actually look the part too. 

his eyes don’t leave the back wall for the rest of the gig, practically stumbling through all of the songs as his head threatens to wander. trailing back to you only as they finish, walking off stage to down the harshest whisky the bar would allow. 

you saunter over a couple minutes later, while eddie tries his hardest not to stare right down your shirt. he’s not certain that he won’t choke on his words if you speak to him. 

“you were really good tonight,” you assure, smiling softly as his band mate turns to gawp. 

“uh, yeah.. thanks,” eddie fumbles, gripping the neck of his beer bottle, “thanks for coming.” 

there’s an aura surrounding you, like a wretched spell you’d evoked in him, turning him to a bumbling fool. 

“i’m gonna head out..” gesturing to the door, “see you around,” waving your fingers coyly at him before disappearing. 

his eyes linger at the door, wondering if maybe you’ll turn around and come back. not that he wants that. just curious as to why you’d come out just to see him play. 

“now who the hell was that?” jeff ogles, receiving a swift elbow to the ribs from eddie and a loud oof as he clutches his side. 

“a friend of a friend,” brushing him off, “don’t be weird about it,” jumping the gun to squash any sorts of ideas festering in his mind. 

“you’re the only one being weird about it,” jeff retorts, grabbing his beer and shuffling off. 

“i’m not being weird,” eddie calls from behind, “i’m not!” 

okay maybe he was being a little weird. 

who cares? 

definitely not eddie. 

-

this week, he feels more prepared to see you nodding along in the crowd, robin had joined you albeit looking less than impressed. 

eddie’s killing it, at least he thinks. avoiding looking anywhere in your direction, keeping his gaze on the stumbling drunk at the back instead. 

but the thoughts of you can’t help but creep into his mind, were you enjoying it? do you think he’s bad? why does he even care so much? 

his hand slides down the neck of the guitar, playing the wrong chord entirely, his fingers curating a mind of their own. 

fuck fuck fuck. 

why does this keep happening? 

gareth glares at him again, he had never been so frustrated with his idiot bandmate in his life. sure eddie liked to dick around in rehearsal but never on stage. 

if eddie ever wanted a career in music, he needed to get a monumental grip on himself. weird girls he barely knew should not have the capacity to ruin his career. 

after they clamber off stage, eddie makes a point of not going over to the two of you. no, you can come to him. 

though he wishes you’d just be a little faster at it if he’s honest. too busy squished into a booth with one of the younger regulars to care about him. 

heat rises in his chest, searing his cheeks a bright rouge, “-who is that?” gareth interrupts, bumping into his arm. 

“who’s who?” eddie coughs, clearing his throat as his eyes snap back. 

“that girl you’ve been staring at,” peering across the room to get a glimpse. 

“i’m not staring at anyone,” abruptly turning his head in the opposite direction, proving to himself that he wasn’t staring, not really. 

“you’re a liar,” gareth calls him on his bullshit immediately, “go talk to her! she’s hot,” scooting his friend along. 

“no she’s not,” you looked good tonight, he’d give you that, “can everyone please just stop being weird about this? first jeff- now you? honestly, i don’t get it,” working himself into a frenzy over what really was nothing. 

gareth’s eyes widen, scoffing at his melodramatic performance, “alright man.. calm down,” shaking his head in mild disgust. 

eddie was totally calm, you know, apart from his heart pounding in his chest. 

nothing major. 

-

filthy, downright pornographic sounds fill his cramped van, certain that it was rocking side to side with the utter obscenity happening in the back. 

chloe sits atop of his lap, tongues dancing around one another as she glides her hips back and forth. she was a regular, slightly older than eddie, at least he thinks, they’d made eyes a few times but only tonight had he gathered the courage to go and speak to her. 

any other time, eddie would be rock solid, pinning her down and fucking her into the dusty floor. today, it’s just not happening. 

his mind elsewhere, too preoccupied with nonsense to appreciate the opportunity at hand. 

he's thinking about you and the fact you’d left the bar without ever coming over to him tonight. what the fuck was that about? 

had he done something wrong? 

he breaks apart from her mouth, heaving into the tiny gap between them, “i don’t know what’s going on..” he chuckles awkwardly, looking down at his useless dick, “normally something happens by now..” 

she frowns, deep-set, showing her age more than before, “oh.” 

he reaches down, furiously palming his cock through his jeans. 

nothing. not even a twitch. 

he wants to curl up and die. never in his three years of actually getting laid has this ever happened. eddie got hard at the drop of a pin, he’d only have to think about boobs and his jeans would shift. 

so why the fuck wasn’t it working tonight?

“i’m gonna go,” chloe scowls, clambering over his legs, gathering her bag while not even attempting to hide her disappointment. 

eddie shoots up, pathetically crawling after her, desperate not to let her go. 

“it’s not me!” he screams out, watching helplessly as she crawls out of the van, “it’s you!”

no. 

“wait no! shit, that’s not what i meant,” peeking out of the van to find the empty parking lot, zero women to be found, “fuck sake.” 

left to wallow in his self-pity, alone, in the back of his dirty van. 

just as he deserved. 

if this was some karmic intervention, telling him to be a better person, he certainly wasn’t paying it any attention. 

-

another party meant another night of eddie trying to understand why the hell you had such an effect on him. 

it’s not even like you’re doing anything particularly riveting, sat with your drink in hand, nodding along to robin’s story. 

he can’t stand it. 

you have to go. 

maybe not like that, but he had to put some distance between you. there’s no way he could keep his sanity while you were still a constant in his life. 

eddie sidles over, feeling like the smartest guy in the room. he could do this, separate himself from you and your clutches and go back to playing as he once did. 

you smile upon him appearing, sickly and sweet. it makes his heart thump in the weirdest way. 

“oh.. hey,” playing this entirely nonchalantly, “i just thought i’d let you know that we’re not playing next week,” lying through his teeth, guilt ridden but really, it was necessary if he wanted to play a gig without fucking up the entire time. 

“oh,” sounding somewhat disappointed, “okay.. how come?” 

shit. 

he can’t think of a single valid reason as to why they wouldn’t be playing. 

“jeff’s sick.. real bad,” feeling even more guilty for lying about his friends health, wondering if he’s cursing jeff as you did him, “might even be a couple weeks off at this point.”

eddie was a terrible person. 

but so were you. 

bewitching him under some spell, forcing him to play terribly and embarrass himself in front of women 

you’ve jinxed him. a bad omen cursing him to play like a fucking amateur. that’s the only logical explanation his pea brain can conjure up anyway. 

that meant you had to stay away from the shows, from him preferably. 

he couldn’t understand why you have this effect on him, why your mere presence has him becoming a floundering fool. you don’t intimidate him, not even close. 

it’s almost as if he cares too much about what you think, to the extent that he overthinks it so hard that he fucks up. 

a curse that could only be broken with some distance between you. that way he could focus on the show instead of you and your doe eyes reflecting off of the stage lights. 

that’s what he’s praying for anyway. 

-

eddie despises wednesday’s. itching to get his classes over and done with so he can get his small taste of stardom on that tiny hideout stage. 

at some point over the last few weeks of you being an omnipotent presence in his life, he’d grown accustomed to crossing paths with you before the gig. 

crossing campus with your chin tucked down, arms wrapped tight around your books. typically only sharing a smile or a short nod. 

but this week you saunter over, resembling a frightened deer even more than usual. 

he pulls his headphone from his ear, anticipating whatever nonsensical, vaguely cute thing you were going to say. 

“hey,” he nods, a coy smile. 

even now you have his palms sweating, overthinking whether he should’ve said hi or hello instead. 

“you didn’t have to lie to me,” you start, brows furrowed, “it’s fine if you don’t want me to go to your gigs anymore, i don’t care,” a disappointed frown plaguing your normally cheerful face. “i thought i liked you eddie, really- but i don’t know anymore.. you’re not a good person.” 

you turn to walk off before he can even compute your words. 

oh shit. 

“wait!” he calls but it’s useless, “i didn’t- i wasn’t- fuck.”

it was unthinkably cruel, he didn’t think you’d ever find out. and maybe that was his problem, assuming you didn’t care enough to find out. 

guilt addles his chest, weighing heavy on his heart. for good reason too. 

eddie was an asshole. a true, grade-a asshole that wayne would positively despise him for. 

wait wait wait. 

you liked him? 

you liked him?

absolutely not. no way. that wasn’t what this was about.

or it’s not supposed to be. 

no, this was some adolescent feud, a confusing, one-sided, friendship that he couldn’t get a grip on. 

you didn’t like him. girls like you weren’t supposed to. 

-

it’s not at all surprising that he plays like absolute shit tonight too. 

guilt ridden for forcing your hand, for making you look at him like that. as if he were the worst person to walk the earth. 

shit, maybe he was. 

kind hearted people didn’t lie and deceive. no, kind hearted people came to gigs they obviously didn’t give a shit about. kind hearted people feigned interest in boring spiel about weed strains and whatever the fuck else eddie jabbered on about at parties. 

you, you were kind. kinder than he deserved. 

gareth slaps him harshly on the back the second they’re back behind the curtain, a scornful yet pitying scowl on his face, “look man,” he begins, “i dunno what’s going on with you but i don’t know how much longer they’re gonna let us play here if you keep playing like that.”

eddie sighs, because he knows this. he’s well aware that his performances have been lacklustre for weeks now. he just doesn’t really understand why. 

at first he thought it was just because you were there, a distance friend who would feed back to his friends about how good, or bad, he was. 

but that wasn’t it. 

you were there, and then you weren’t. and he still played like shit. 

somewhere entangled deep within his wretched heart, he thinks that maybe he just wanted to impress you. 

a nice girl, cares about her studies way more than he does, pretty too and you didn’t look at him like he was just some out of touch stoner with crazy dreams of his band getting big. 

you were polite, listening to his wacky stories and dreams of playing for thousands, in fact, you encouraged them, more than his friends ever had for sure. 

eddie’s not sure if, or how, he’ll ever be able to make amends for how he’s treated you. 

-

he’s making himself sick with worry. guilt wracking his brain. 

you don’t turn up that night, obviously. 

eddie’s eyes mindlessly search the crowd for any hint of you. his fingers failing to correspond with the rest of band, always playing a beat behind. 

you had infected him, ruined his once masterful skill to just a shell of what it once was. 

he doesn’t lay opportunity for the boys to speak to him again, rushing out of the bar as soon as his guitar is back in her case. 

there’s only one place he can think about going. 

a few months back, you’d hosted robin’s birthday party there and eddie had disgraced your bathroom with a girl he can’t even remember now. 

his fist bangs on the door, hoping the light in the upstairs window was you and not one of your roommates he’d have to shamefully apologise to. 

the orange light cascades over your face, peeking out from the barely cracked door with a frown that would scare any man off. 

“what’re you doing?” you spit, looking backwards in hopes he hadn’t woken the entire house up. 

“listen,” he sighs, “i’m real sorry about.. you know, lying to you,” his shoulders slumped over themselves, “but i just- i can’t fucking play when you’re there, can’t play when you’re not,” sounding utterly pathetic, begging for you to cure him from this sudden sickness. “i don’t know what to do anymore,” dragging his hand over his face. 

rightfully earning his spot as the worlds biggest fucking loser, stood on your doorstep begging for an answer. 

when he opens his eyes enough to look at you, you’re scowling back at him. nothing like how he had planned this situation in his head. 

he’d hoped that miraculously you’d understand, accept his apology and somehow still feel the same as you had. 

because that was it, really. 

too terrified to face the fact that he liked you too. 

somewhere in his heart of hearts he’d known it from the start. that’s why his heart fluttered when you’d volunteered to come or why he’d struggled to even touch anyone else. 

“what do you want me to say?” shrugging, “i won’t come back, that’s fine,” he wishes you’d just follow the script he’d curated for you. 

eddie doesn’t want you to stop coming, he never had. it’s killing him that you even believed that, twisting the knife in his chest further and further the more your bottom lip juts out and your eyes water. 

“actually, maybe it’s best if we don’t talk anymore,” you suggest, throwing him completely off kilter. 

woah. 

that wasn’t at all what he wanted nor was he trying to say. he just couldn’t gather the actual words he needed to express that to you. 

petrified that he’d admit to his feelings and you’d just turn around and laugh, how could someone like you ever like such a cruel man? 

“wait no, that’s not what i meant-,” bargaining with you for a little time to explain himself, though you definitely didn’t owe him any.

“-thanks for coming eddie, i’ll see you around,” flashing him a crestfallen smile before abruptly closing the door in his face. 

-

public humiliation was truly the only way eddie could think to make it up to you. 

well that and maybe a little big nudge from robin. 

he’d rather stupidly asked about you on saturday night, confused why you weren’t there alongside robin, who had very quickly got him in check. 

“why do you think dumbass?” she snapped, snarling her teeth at him, “you were an asshole and now she’s doesn’t want to come anymore,” her glare powerful and harsh, "i'd say you were lucky she didn't punch you in the face."

he’d deserve it. 

it had taken weeks of convincing to get you anywhere near the hideout again. not to mention the hundreds in free weed he’d had to bribe robin with to get her to help. 

you stand in a dark corner, hands folded against your chest, puzzled and irritated by robin’s incessant begging to get you here. 

“there’s someone here that i wanna apologise to,” his eyes don’t find you as easy this time, after weeks of missing your presence, he’s not used to you actually being in the crowd again, “if you know us, you know i can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, uh..” they find you, the lump only growing in his throat, “i’m sorry,” tunnel vision blocking out every other body in the room, “i’m really, really sorry.”

you blink, staring back at him like a deer caught in headlights. it makes him a little bit nauseous to recall how dreadfully he’d treated you, how you deserved absolutely none of it. 

your gaze lowers, and eddie can’t decide how to take it. he wouldn’t blame you if you decided to never forgive him, but he also couldn’t take it if you didn’t. 

his voice cracks a little as he speaks, “this is.. uh, we’re corroded coffin,” stepping back from the mic to gather his thoughts before the drum comes crashing in. 

-

eddie plays the best he’s potentially ever played. 

a force overcoming him to prove that he truly wasn’t as much as a loser as he’s shown himself to be.  

usually, he couldn’t wait to be off that stage and to the bar but today he’s dreading it. 

knowing that you’re somewhere out there waiting for an explanation. 

or maybe you weren’t. he wouldn’t blame you if you’d decided to leave soon after he’d embarrassed himself with that shitty apology. 

gareth runs up behind him, using his shoulders to launch himself into the air, “holy shit! that was amazing!” the boy presses a slobbery kiss to his cheek before continuing, “whatever the hell you did, keep doing it because that was insane!” running off past eddie to grab his weekly complimentary beer. 

a sudden sickness fills his stomach, slyly hoping that he could slip out of here before anyone else noticed him. 

you stand across the bar, waiting to catch his eye with your lips curled only ever-so-slightly. 

eddie’s limbs go stiff, still entranced by your jinx. by you.

your eyes trail away to the door as his follow, shuffling your way through the bustling crowd. 

his legs carry him without a second thought, out into the cool night as his eyes frantically search for you. 

he finds you perched against the crumbling stone wall a few feet from the entrance, just far enough away from the prying eyes of the smoking patrons. 

“i didn’t think you’d ever come back here,” is all he can say, feet trailing along the gravel. 

the streetlight glistens orange from your eyes, staring up at him from your perch, “i didn’t want to,” your smile only growing as he nears, “robin made me.” 

“oh,” it wasn’t as if he didn’t know that or that he didn’t orchestrated the entire thing, it just felt odd to hear it from your mouth. 

“i’m glad i came,” you clarify, allowing him to finally release the breath held tight in his chest. 

eddie dares to move closer, sitting back on the brick just inches away, “yeah?” 

you nod, the great big smile he’d forced away making a return at last, “yeah.” 

suddenly the air feels thick, it was easier apologising on stage, those people didn’t know him, they didn’t care. but now, sat here in front of you, it feels like he’s swallowing knives. 

“i’m really sorry for making you feel that way,” though it sounds meaningless now the damage was done, “i don’t know if you still care about me at all, but i- um,” his throat runs dry, clamping his eyes shut. it felt easier that way, somehow, “i think the reason why i was such.. an asshole,” the light flickers through his eyelids again, deciding that you at least deserved to see him, “fuck,” he exclaims, staring back at your confused expression. 

“it’s okay,” soothing even now, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” a twinge of sadness running through your tone. 

“no, no i do,” eddie persists. he’d fumbled once, he couldn’t do it again. “shit man,” he sighs, “i’m trying to tell you that i like you too, or maybe not too, i know i was an ass and i don’t deserve your forgiveness-,” your lips cuts him off mid-mumble, surging forward to press them against his blathering ones. 

he has to blink a couple times, taking in whatever the fuck was happening to him. 

you pull back, disappointed that his brain had been to fuzzy to focus on kissing you back. too preoccupied with trying not to explode and paint you in red. 

“really eddie.. it’s okay,” returning to your usual reserved self while his brain still struggles to compute. 

“can we do that again?” he asks politely, keeping the bubbling excitement to a minimum. 

you laugh, a real, throaty laugh, something he hadn’t heard in weeks, “only if you promise to stop talking,” leaning in once more, the rigid wall suddenly feeling like it was about to collapse from underneath him. 

your soft, cherry-tinted lips press against his forehead a second time, allowing him to gather his brain from a pile of mush on the floor just enough to actually kiss you back. a tender hand reaching out to caress his stubbly cheek, sending shockwaves through his limbs. 

you’re interrupted again by a loud whoop from behind, robin clapping wildly as she emerges from the bar, “now you two have kissed and made up, can we go home now?” 

[yawnderu]

If Simon and bimbo!reader ever had a big fight (not petty disagreements), what would they fight about? How do both handle serious fights and making up?

ahhhh :((( anon when I catch you. It'd likely be at the beginning of the relationship, before she knows about his job and he always leaves for weeks without telling her much about it

>Simon and bimbo!reader fight and make up.

“I just don't understand why you do this to me... just tell me.” Your voice is as pleading as it is demanding, eyebrows furrowed and face scrunched up in a mix of frustration and sadness.

“I can't—” He's interrupted by a small scoff coming out of you, your arms crossed as you look away and take a deep breath. He's never seen you like this before, never so... frustrated and angry. Anxiety starts to fill his soul within seconds, stuck between wanting to keep you away from his job, and wanting to reassure you.

“Do you just.... have a second family or something? Is that what it is?” The accusation makes his own face scrunch up in a mix of mild disgust and confusion. Was his unwavering loyalty to you not obvious? He never even looks at other women at all, his eyes are for you only.

“I don't.” It's all he can say to defend himself. How does he go about telling you he kills people for a living? Sure, he's protecting the world and serving the Queen, but would you look at him differently when you find out the same hands that are so gentle with you will forever be tainted with another's blood?

“Then what is it, Simon?” You never call him Simon. Even when you first met, you've always called him Si. He lets out a small sigh, shaking his head. He doesn't want to be around to fight, he just wants it all to be okay like before— yet he also understands why you're acting that way after months of being kept in the dark.

“I'll be back later.” He turns around to leave the shared flat, only being stopped by another scoff.

“Fine. Leave like you always do.” It was a low blow, you can tell that much by the way his muscles visibly tense up, bulging out of his black shirt. He shakes his head, the hand on the doorknob trembling slightly. He loves you more than anything, but can he really handle seeing the expression on your face when he tells you why he's away?

“'M in the military.” He finally turns around, walking back to you and holding your hand, sitting down on the couch and pulling you on his lap, one of his hands running down the length of your hair.

“SAS. I'll show you my contracts if you don't believe me.” He's willing to do anything to make you believe him. Each silent second only increases his anxiety, barely managing to look down at you just to see the gears shifting in your brain, putting two and two together.

“.... Is that why you always stink when you come back?” There's enough mirth in your tone to let him know you're joking, barely managing to hide the smile tugging at your lips.

“Y'sniff me like a fuckin' police dog when I'm back, love. You like it.” No matter how much you roll your eyes in fake annoyance and pretend you don't like it, you both know the truth. You cuddle up closer to him, resting comfortably on his burly body.

“Y'wear the cool uniforms, Si?” Your voice is softer, almost shy to even ask the question. He knows you like masked men— he's heard you rant about Pyramid Head and Ghostface enough times already. He hums softly in reply, nodding his head.

“Sometimes. Cool mask and all, you'd like it.” He's just teasing you at this point, trying to hold back a smile when he feels you rapidly shifting in his arms just to get closer to his face, unable to hide your excitement.

“Yeah? Can I see?” Your giddiness is almost contagious, making a deep chuckle finally escape his lips. You're not looking at him like he's a monster, you're simply excited about the idea of him wearing a mask. Maybe letting you see Ghost isn't a bad idea.

“Hmm...” He drags out, looking away and pretending to think about it just to tease you. The smack to his arm is enough to make him grin at you, stealing a kiss before adjusting you on his lap, finally allowing his body to fully relax.

“Yeah, I'll show you.”

Bimbo!Reader Masterlist

[churipu]

hihi i love ur works sm and i was wondering if i can request where the reader has an argument w the jjk men?? preferably w nanamin + any other characters :3 thank you in advance ^___^

BAD BLOOD — ARGUMENTS WITH JJK MEN !

featuring. nanami kento, choso, megumi fushiguro x reader

warnings. cursing, yelling, slight angst (ends in fluff dw).

note. hi anon, thank you for loving my works, it means a lot to me. and i love this request, i've been feeling like crap for the whole day so this is just what i needed! i hope you like this one <;33 and for anons who have sent in request, i'm writing them down and keeping them in my drafts for daily posts, so don't worry about it!

NANAMI KENTO. i feel like arguments with nanami will be very soft but angry. nanami is a gentle person, and he just hates the thoughts of saying something hurtful to you — but do keep in mind that he won't always be very soft, he could be loud at times. but most of your arguments with him are soft spoken, the both of you exchanging thoughts and troubles.

for the past few days, nanami has been extremely overworked and so you're walking on eggshells around him. he gets sensitive, and the slightest bit of inconvenience angered him. yes, you get it — he's tired from his work, you could totally understand that. he's a busy man after all.

"kento, don't you want to take a break..? you've been working non-stop, you'll get sick," you eyed him, poking around your food.

nanami sat across from you, his eyes glued to a paper, and honestly, it was getting a little sickening. all you wanted to do was to talk to him, but you felt as if you were selfish if you asked the man to prioritize you over his work — so you stayed silent, for almost a week the two of you haven't exactly been conversing right, or talking unless it was an exchange of "hi"s and "bye"s. but that was about it.

"i need to get this done, wait a moment."

that phrase sounded like a template by now, and you huffed, rolling your eyes, "i know, i'm just worried about you. you're not getting enough sleep, you're not eating well, and at this point, i'm just afraid that you'll dig your own gra—"

"i can take care of myself, thank you. you don't have to worry about me, i know what i'm doing."

you can't help but to furrow your brows at his cold reply, a little offended when all you seemed to be doing was care for him. the least he could do was thank you for it, "god, you don't have to be such an ass about it. forgive me for caring then."

at this point, your words only added fuel to the already big fire. nanami stared at you, the exhaustion in his eyes are apparent, and his lips pursed into a thin line before he inhaled sharply, "you're being a child, i just told you i can take care of myself. please, don't argue with me on this. i'm tired with all these paperwork, don't add more burden for my shoulders."

you clicked your tongue, standing up, not wanting to engage on this particular conversation anymore, "well forgive me for caring and for being a burden. enjoy your dinner," was all you spat out at him before going to the living room — plopping your body down the couch.

arguments with him usually ends up with the both of you apologizing to each other, but this particular argument seemed to not just go the way how it usually does. a couple of hours later, none of you talked. you assumed that the male finished his dinner, and you saw him walk by you into your shared room.

the two of you refused to talk to each other, or even as little as making an eye contact. you figured that you'd just spend the night in the living room where the TV could keep you company, so you stormed inside your shared room where nanami was on the bed, eyes still on his beloved papers.

he said nothing, nor did he spare a glance at you. so you become a guest in your own bedroom and grabbed your pillow, it wasn't that chilly outside so you didn't grab the only blanket laying on the bed (you actually left it there for him to use, the ac could be pretty cold at times).

and he never came out, not until you fell asleep with the TV still on. nanami hadn't even slept, he'd gotten his work done hours ago — but still he couldn't sleep. not without you by his side.

the clock strikes fifteen minutes past three in the morning, and nanami pushed himself up from the bed — feeling the void beside him, even with the blanket; he felt cold. opening the door softly, he trudged out of the room, the sight of you all curled up on top of the couch, vivid lights shining from the TV still managing to light up the whole living room despite the lights being off.

he squats down in front of you, brushing your h/c hair out of your face and it made you turn in your sleep. although not enough to wake you up completely, nanami one of his arm under your upper back, and one under your legs. carrying you inside the room with soft steps before laying you down, not forgetting to tuck you under the blanket and leaving trails of butterfly kisses on your face.

he could finally sleep.

with the sun rays greeting you through the creases of your still covered window, you squirmed. groaning out.

"y/n?"

upon hearing nanami's voice, your eyes flutter open. of course — it was a surprise for you to wake up on the bed when you fell asleep on the couch, "did you carry me here?"

nanami nods, he was leaning onto the bed post, "i'm sorry. what i said to you was wrong," he softly said.

the anger you felt the other night was gone by now, and you were just glad that nanami was willing to talk to you. you shook your head with a small smile, "it was part of my fault too, you were working — i shouldn't have pestered you too much."

nanami wasted no time in pulling you towards him, "you were worried for me. never apologize for that."

like i said, arguments with nanami will always end pretty quickly (the two of you are mature enough to talk it out), oh and also? he spoils you the entire day after an argument so — have fun!

CHOSO. i feel like choso would be confused a lot during arguments with you, on one side i could see him being brazen with his words, and on the other side i could see him being careful with them. no in between, he's definitely scared of saying the wrong things to you — and you getting hurt emotionally, hurts him as well. so at times he just tries to end it quickly by saying sorry.

god, he hates seeing you sad. at the end of the day, if he did say things the wrong way (even if it was to defend himself when he's not wrong), choso will apologize to you for how he said his words (and you'll apologize for your mistake). but choso has his share of apologizing because of his mistake too.

"cho, are you listening to me? gosh, you never pay attention to what i'm saying, are you taking this seriously?" choso looks up at you with his brows furrowed, definitely frustrated by everything that was happening around him right now.

first of all, he expected today to be a very special day. he hasn't seen you for the past couple of days because you've been so busy with work, and he was so excited when you told him you'd be having a couple of days to rest. he couldn't wait to meet you and go out on dates with you.

but clearly, his expectations were shoved down the drain because here you both were — arguing over your work hours choso had brought up a few minutes prior. and all he said was that he wished that the both of you would have more time to spend together, which irked you.

it had been a rough week with work where you had to write and write and write on countless paperwork (which you couldn't really complain on because you signed up for the job). and you weren't afraid to admit that you were in the wrong this time, when all choso wanted was time with you. here you were, getting all riled up because he wished that he had more time with you, and if the roles were switched; you were pretty damn sure you'd say the same thing to him.

"'m sorry for bringing that up. can we go out now..? i don't wanna fight w' you." choso mumbled out, averting his gaze to the side.

his tone ripped you away from your anger and you sighed, pulling him into your embrace, "cho, 'm sorry. i shouldn't have taken my anger out on you just because i've had a rough week."

choso returned your embrace mutely, a small smile dawning upon his lips. he was just glad the argument was cut short. all he wanted to do now was to go out of this slump and make you the happiest person ever — even just for a moment, a couple of days before you eventually have to return back to work.

"cho, say something."

choso pulls away from your touch, "i forgive you. let's go out? missed you. so much."

for the rest of the day, you and choso had the most fun in a week. also, choso fell into a pond in the park because he wasn't looking at the road — and also, you might've called your boss to extend your rest day (by saying you weren't feeling well) so you could have more time to spend with your boyfriend.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. i feel like megumi's the type of boyfriend who tries to stay out of arguments with you, if he was entangled in one where he isn't in the wrong — and you tell him to do something, he'd just kind of do it without any complaints. tell him to shut up? he shuts up. tell him to go away? he'll leave. tell him to leave you alone? he'll leave you alone (for a couple of hours).

but when he feels like things aren't ceasing, he'd try his best to negotiate with you and try to find out what the core of the problem is between the both of you. let's be real, megumi is a realistic type of person, he'd never admit that he's wrong when he isn't just to solve things the fast way, even to you; his own partner.

"y/n. how many times do i have to tell you that it's not that i'm bored of you alright? i've been busy. i'm not bored of you."

okay, you didn't expect one question to lead to this argument. all you asked him was a simple yes or no question: "are you bored of me?" and you didn't throw the question for no apparent reason, the reason behind that question itself was megumi's change of behavior the past two weeks.

he'd been extremely distant, and cold. whenever you asked him about it, he just tells you that he's tired. which you could totally understand since he is pretty busy, like uncle ben said: "with great power comes great responsibility."

being a jujutsu sorcerer is a big responsibility. you could understand where it was coming from, but when it happens again and again, you can't help but to overthink about it. overthink about how megumi might be bored of you and the whole relationship.

"megumi, i...okay— i'm sorry for asking about this. i was just worried." you tell him, not wanting to argue any longer about this whole thing, "i'm sorry, you must be stressed out with school and stuff."

megumi furrowed his brows, inhaling sharply, "no, no.. i'm sorry for lashing out. let's talk about this. i don't want you to get the wrong idea."

megumi explained everything from a to z, about how he was still so in love with you and he had been distant because of his power and what comes with it. it was pretty cute to listen to him talk, the constant flush on his face whenever he talks about you, and the stress in his voice when he talks about his power was apparent.

poor boy just needed a break.

"megumi, let's take a nap. you look like you need it."

"...i do."

argument ended. relationship stronger. and you both get to nap together, absolute win-win.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !