#stuffs face into pillow. i’ll shut up now. maybe. >_<< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[ectoplasmer]

posting about marriage again please forgive me but i had a fleeting thought/image in my brain about ryou wearing one of those ruffle collar suits and wwwgdbfcvn CRIES

[lnfours]

focal point ☆ chapter 4 | l.n

summary: as taylor swift once said: 'in a world of boys, he's a gentleman'.

warnings: art student!reader, best friend/college student!oscar, college student!lando, slight enemies to lovers!au, slight grumpy x sunshine, unedited, some filler stuff this chapter, a hint of fluff here and there, and are we finally getting somewhere with this??? idk????

message from jordan: happy new year, everyone! i hope you all had a fun and safe holiday season, and i hope this year is kinder to you than previous ones <3 thank you for being so patient with me on getting something out for you guys. i'm struggling a bit with writer's block, but hopefully i can push through and some more writing done by the end of this week :) again, thank you for being so patient. sending you all my love, always <33

series masterlist | listen to the playlist

the sunlight pouring into your bedroom windows made you open your eyes. however, you immediately regretted it. a pounding sensation filling your head the minute your eyes met the light. you let out a groan, your hand coming up to your temples as you buried yourself back into your pillows. 

“here,” a voice said from next to you, “take this.”

your eyes flew open again, lando’s figure coming into frame as he held out the bottle of advil and a glass of water towards you. you blinked at him as he softly smiled, nodding back towards the medicine bottle. 

“thanks,” you mumbled, looking around the room for any signs of what could’ve happened last night. you swallowed the pills down with the glass of water that he had in his other hand. he took the glass back from you, leaning off the foot of the bed to place it on your desk. 

“did we…?” you trailed off, sitting up. you had on a pair of pajama pants and an unfamiliar hoodie, a pair of clothes you don’t remember changing into. 

he shook his head, a soft smile on his face, “no,”

“thank god,” you sighed, placing your pounding head on your knees.

“did have to carry you out of the party though,” he said, “lily’s the one who got you changed. hoodie is mine, though. you were shivering on the walk back here last night. i slept on the floor, don’t worry.”

you looked over at the floor next to the bed, now noticing the folded up blanket and pillow on the carpet. you ignored how your heart tightened in your chest as his gesture, maybe he was a gentleman.

“i don’t even remember having that much to drink,” you said, “was it really that bad?”

“the guys convinced you to play a few rounds of beer pong,” he chuckled softly, “you suck, by the way.”

you let out a soft laugh, “yeah, need to work on my skills, i guess.”

“yeah, you can say that,” he laughed softly, “you hungry? there’s this really great spot off campus if you want something to eat.”

you nodded, “yeah, just let me change and brush my teeth and stuff.”

he nodded, biting his lip a bit to hold back the smile threatening to break out on his face, “yeah, sure! i’ll uhm.. wait for you out here.”

he jabbed his thumb over his shoulder towards the door as you nodded. when he closed the bedroom door behind him, you couldn’t help the smile on your face. you weren’t sure what had flipped, but suddenly he was making you giddy like a high school girl with a crush. and honestly, you weren’t sure if you were that mad about it. 

you moved as quickly as your hungover state let you, throwing on a pair of jeans and shoes before brushing your teeth quickly and grabbing your things. 

you walked out to the living room, spotting him on the couch as he scrolled on his phone. you smiled when he looked up at you, putting his phone in the pocket of his hoodie as he stood up. 

“ready?

you nodded, the two of you walking out of the apartment and towards the parking lot where he kept his car. you watched as he unlocked the doors, opening the passenger side door for you. you thanked him, smiling softly before he shut the door gently behind you. he jogged around to his side before getting in. 

“here,” he said, handing you his phone, “play whatever music you want.”

you held his phone in your hand, “do you want me to put in your passcode or do you..?”

“oh, it’s 4444.” he said, backing out of the parking space as you snickered. he looked over at you with a soft laugh as you shook your head, scrolling through his spotify.

“what?”

“your passcode is a bunch of 4s?”

he shrugged, “it’s easy to remember,”

“also easy for someone to get into your phone.” you said and he shrugged, making a right out of the school campus. 

you shuffled one of his recently played playlists, humming along to the songs you knew. you watched the view of the town out the window, thankful that your headache had slowly started to go away. 

you didn’t notice, too wrapped up in the beauty of england to see the way he looked over at you occasionally. he smiled to himself, wondering if you knew how gorgeous you were when you were in your own world. he had seen it in you before, especially when you’d lose yourself talking about art or working on the project. something about you being so unaware of your beauty made his heart rate pick up. 

he pulled into the lot of the diner, finding a parking spot before putting the car in park. he made it a mission to open all the doors for you, making you softly laugh and thank him every time before the hostess led you to the booth seat in the corner of the small diner. 

you flipped through the menu, “how’d you find this place?”

“i’ve been coming here since my first year,” he said, “they have the best pancakes in my opinion. food’s definitely better than the cafeteria on campus.”

“anything’s better than that place,” you said, “not hard to beat.”

he nodded with a soft laugh, “very true.”

after ordering your food, you ended up finding yourselves in conversation, talking about anything and everything.

“are you heading back home for the holidays?” he asked, taking a bite of his food as you shrugged your shoulders.

“probably not,” you said, “let’s just say things with my family haven’t always been…” “picture perfect?” he asked, finishing the sentence for you.

“yeah,” you said, “i normally just head back home with lily for the holidays, but with her new secret man, i don’t want to intrude if she’s planning on bringing him.”

“still haven’t met him yet?”

you shook your head, “surprisingly no. i don’t want to push her, but i really wanna know who the guy is.”

he nodded, “yeah, i’m in the same boat. oscar’s been talking about this girl, but i haven’t seen her around.”

“yeah, i texted him the other day and he said he had plans with her,” you said, “haven’t had our usual study sessions in a while.”

“hold on,” he said, “you don’t think…”

you furrowed your eyebrows, confused at what he was getting at until it clicked. you looked at him with wide eyes, “oh, god. i don’t know.”

“surely she’d say something to you, right?”

“i’d think so,” you shrugged, “unless she wasn’t sure it was going to be a serious thing, then i’m not sure.”

“i’ll try to get more out of him the next time i see him,” he said, finishing off the last few bites of his breakfast, “now i’m curious.”

you nodded, finishing your food as well, “me too,”

the waitress came back with the check, you fishing your wallet from your bag, but he was quicker in getting his card out. 

you sent him a look as he smiled at the girl, thanking her before his eyes landed back on you. his smile only got wider at the look you were sending him, “what?”

“how much do i owe you?”

he shook his head, “don’t worry about it.”

“lando-”

“nope, it was my idea,” he chuckled back at you, “you can get it next time if you really want to.”

next time?

you sighed softly before giving into him, watching as he signed his name on the receipt, “i guess i can live with that. thank you, by the way.”

he nodded, the two of you making your way out of the small diner, “anytime.”

“probably a long shot and you totally don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you said, walking towards his car, “but did you wanna watch a movie or something when we get back?”

he smiled as he opened the car door for you, “yeah, sure,”

you sent him another smile as you got in the car, feeling the same giddy feeling you felt earlier. 

whatever this feeling was, you really didn’t want it to go away.

[izzih22]

Pregnant azzi and them being cutesy. Like Paige finding out, protective P, and o feel like she’d be very hormonal 😭

Baby on Board

Notes: Pazzi as moms since you guys are obsessed 😂

Paige wasn’t expecting anything unusual when she walked into their apartment after practice, hair still damp from her post-training shower and half-eaten protein bar in hand. But the second she opened the door, she froze. Azzi was standing in the middle of the living room, holding a tiny white onesie with the words “Player 3 Loading…” written on it.

Paige blinked. Once. Twice. “Wait… is this—” she started, pointing at the onesie like it might suddenly explain itself.

Azzi nodded, eyes a little glassy, smile trembling. “I took three tests. I’m pregnant, Paige.”

Silence.

Then the protein bar hit the floor with a thud.

“YOU’RE WHAT?” Paige practically launched herself across the room, nearly tripping over their coffee table in the process. “Oh my god, Az. Are you okay? Are you sure? Are we sure? Is there a tiny you in there?!”

Azzi giggled, then teared up—hormones already coming in strong. “Yes. I’m sure. And yeah, it’s really happening. We’re gonna be moms.”

Paige stared at her for a moment, eyes wide with a mix of awe and panic and so much love it almost knocked her sideways. Then she dropped to her knees, pressed her face gently to Azzi’s stomach, and whispered, “Hey, little one. It’s your mommy Paige. I’m kind of a big deal, and your other mom is the best person in the whole world. So you’re doing great already.”

Azzi sniffled. “Paige, you’re gonna make me cry again.”

“I didn’t even say anything sad!” Paige shot up, panicked. “Oh my god. Am I not allowed to say stuff? Are you gonna cry if I breathe too loud? What do I do? Do I need to get you snacks? Blankets? A pillow throne?”

Azzi was full-on crying now—but smiling through it. “I love you so much, but you’re being so dramatic.”

Paige scooped her up bridal style without a second thought. “Hormones are no joke, Az. I read that somewhere. I also read that stress is bad, so from now on, you don’t do anything. Just sit. Be cute. Bake the baby. I’ve got everything else.”

“Paige—”

“Shhh.” Paige gently lowered her onto the couch, then tucked every pillow they owned around her. “No more standing. Or thinking. You’re off duty. Doctor’s orders.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “You’re not a doctor.”

“I could’ve been if I wasn’t such a baller,” Paige said, already heading to the kitchen. “Now tell me what weird food combo you’re craving, and I’ll go hunt it down like a love-struck raccoon.”

Azzi laughed, wiping her eyes. “I want a mango smoothie. And pickles. And like… cinnamon toast?”

Paige blinked. “Okay. That’s gross. But I love you, so I’m gonna do it.”

She returned a few minutes later, arms full of snacks, a mango smoothie, and a heating pad. She sat beside Azzi, curled into her, and rested a protective hand on her stomach.

“We dreamed about this, didn’t we?” Paige whispered, her voice quieter now. “Back when we were just dumb kids who had no idea how we’d get here.”

Azzi nodded, snuggling into her shoulder. “Yeah. And now we’re here.”

��And you’re gonna have the most beautiful baby the world’s ever seen,” Paige whispered. “Because they’re gonna be a little you.”

Azzi’s eyes fluttered shut, safe and warm in Paige’s arms.

“And maybe just a little me too,” Paige added, grinning. “Y’know, for chaos.”

Azzi sighed. “God help us.”

[squinch-depraved]

hiii friends i'm back here's around 7k words (i think??) for y'all this one goes out to my homie 🐏 anon i love u 🐏 anon

CW: dubcon/cnc, bdsm, facefucking, breeding kink

looking out of the hotel window made you no less uneasy. you sat there for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, staring out at the city. japan was beautiful, just like your boss had said it would be, but you were far from home, and he had whisked you away on this trip so suddenly that you didn’t have time to pack much. you were unusually tired, having only been taken on trips by schlatt in the u.s., so the massive time difference and, to be honest, this extra workload he was expecting you to shoulder, were leaving you stressed and irritable.

you snapped when someone knocked on the solid hotel door, yelling at them to “shut the fuck up!” when they continued knocking impatiently while you made your way to open it. your face flushed a deep red when you saw schlatt standing there, holding a suitcase.

“that’s a dangerous thing to be yelling at someone you don’t know in a foreign country,” he teased. “what if i was, like the cleaning lady, or something?”

“yeah, well… you’re not,” you replied, rubbing your eyes. “what d’you need?”

he holds out the suitcase. “brought you stuff. not much, just some basics. i’ll take you shopping tomorrow.”

you raised a brow at his words. “why take me shopping?”

he didn't speak until you took the suitcase from him. “’cause i feel bad for not letting you pack your shit.”

you nodded and gestured for him to come in. “can you help? i can't figure out how to close the blinds.”

he hesitated before following you in, letting the door fall shut behind him as he walked further into the lavish room he had booked for you. it was more expensive than the rooms the rest of the staff he brought with him got, but you didn't need to know that.

watching as you gestured broadly at the giant window, he chuckled and pulled a remote off the wall. he showed you which buttons to press to make a large shade come down from the ceiling and tried not to mock you when you huffed, annoyed. it was darker in the room now, the lights of the city no longer helping the dim lights on the walls to illuminate your room. you flicked on the lamps on either side of your bed and turned to face your employer once more.

“thanks,” you said, able to see his face more easily. he nodded as if he was unsure of what to say and started heading towards the door.

“i’ll be by to pick you up at 9,” he spoke. “we’ll get you some stuff and, uh… yeah, it’ll be. it’ll be fun.” he sounded like he was trying to convince himself, and you smiled softly at how sweet he sounded before catching a glimpse of the current time from the alarm clock on your nightstand. it was already almost 2 in the morning, and that gave you five, maybe six hours to sleep, and then you had to wake up and get ready. luckily you had forgotten all your stuff and had nothing to actually take forever getting ready with.

“bye, schlatt,” you called as he waved his hand and shut the heavy door behind him. once he was gone, you flopped face first onto the bed and screamed, trying your best to ignore whatever feelings were bubbling up in the pit of your stomach. after letting out your frustrations into a pillow, you stood up to unpack the mysterious suitcase.

unzipping it revealed a few t-shirts in various sizes, all old schlatt merch, a pair of luxury sweatpants that you didn’t even want to attempt to guess the price of, a few pairs of the softest socks you had ever felt, a toothbrush and toothpaste, some deodorant, shower supplies, a hairbrush and enough hair ties to last you a year, and a pair of slippers. a hoodie that you were sure was schlatt’s, due to its massive size and it smelling of him, was laid neatly on the bottom, as if whoever packed this was trying to hide it. you picked it up and brought it to your face, inhaling deeply and moaning into it softly. a small, pink, tissue wrapped package fell out of the hoodie when you unfolded it to slip it on.

puzzled, you set the hoodie down and carefully grabbed the parcel, undoing the delicate sticker keeping it sealed. when you fully unwrapped it, you were faced with several different pairs of lacy black panties, a few pairs of each different style so you could wear whatever you found comfortable. your stomach flipped at the thought of your boss carefully picking out all these pairs for you, and the notion of him picturing all of these on you while he shopped was something you would go over and over in your mind forever. but you pushed the thoughts away when you remembered he probably had people do this for him. he was a busy man, you doubted he’d care enough about this to put it all together himself. you had already forgotten that he was the one to bring you the luggage, let alone him bringing it to you in the middle of the night.

you set to work unpacking your new stuff, placing your toiletries in the bathroom and stripping yourself of your dirty clothes that you had been in for far too long. once you were naked, you took a relaxing shower with the supplies schlatt had given you, dressing yourself in just a pair of panties and his hoodie when you were clean and dry. you didn’t remember crawling into bed and falling asleep, but you swore you never slept as good as you did that night.

schlatt knocked on your door for minutes, giving you what he thought was ample time to answer. once he pressed his ear to the door and heard your alarm still going off, though, he cursed under his breath and dug into his wallet for a key.

he vowed he wouldn’t use it. he only had it in case of an emergency, he told himself. he knew he was already pushing his luck with everything he had planned for you this trip, sneaking into your room might be too much. but he couldn’t stop himself, he needed to get you up and going for the day so the whole trip wouldn’t be too off schedule.

the sight he saw when he walked in left him breathless. you were spread out in the middle of the bed, his hoodie riding up on your stomach and exposing your bare tummy, lacy black panties hugging your hips perfectly. you were knocked out, evident by the alarm blaring next to you for who knows how long.

he sighed deeply and shook your arm until you woke up in a panic, kicking violently at the presumed threat until you realized it was just him. you babbled something incoherently until you looked at the clock and your face dropped; you sprung up to get dressed, apologizing profusely.

“i’m so sorry, schlatt!” you called through the closed bathroom door. he just sat on the bed, scrolling on his phone, until you came out. dressed in his hoodie still and the expensive sweatpants, you grabbed your essentials and nodded curtly. “i’m ready. let’s go,” you stated.

“wow, and only 30 minutes behind schedule,” he teased. you glared at him and he stood up, leading you out of the room, out of the hotel, and into the shopping districts.

being out in the city with him was actually really nice; you originally thought he was going to bring more staff along, but it appeared it was just the two of you for the day. you tried not to think about how, to people watching, it might look like the two of you were together. it was hard not to ruminate on it over and over in your mind, how, if the situation were just slightly different, maybe it could’ve been a date. the thought left a bitter taste in your mouth.

he stopped once the two of you reached a wide street lined with tall buildings, each a different, massive store. looking around and inspecting their signage didn’t help, you didn’t know what any of them sold.

“pick one,” he said simply.

you looked up at him, confused. “i don’t know what the fuck any of these are,” you whispered rather loudly.

a smile played at his lips, but his face remained stern. “that’s the point, toots,” he replied. “pick one and find out.”

you squinted at him, shaking your head slightly before looking at your many options. “that one, i guess?” you gestured broadly to one a short distance away.

schlatt shook his head. “lead me to it.”

you rolled your eyes and used this as an excuse to grab his hand, turning away and hiding your burning face from him as you dragged him towards the store.

you walked in hurriedly, him trailing behind you at a much easier pace due to his long legs. once you took in your surroundings, you found you were actually quite excited. it was a massive clothing outlet, floors upon floors of all different kinds of garments. holding tightly onto his hand, you only looked around for a few seconds before you beelined it to a display of outfits and began hunting for articles of clothing you wanted.

schlatt dropped your hand and walked away, leaving you alone for a bit while you browsed before coming back with a large basket. he held onto it while you picked through your options, holding it out to you whenever you found something you wanted. into the basket went anything he even thought you liked, and you quickly realized there was no spending limit like you had presumed. you were always eyeing him warily, ready for the piece you had just picked out to be the last. but he just kept telling you to keep going, and soon you had looked through the whole section. he simply waited for you to pick another area to explore and watched as you shopped, occasionally commenting on a top or pair of pants.

“that one’s cute,” he mumbled when you held up a shirt you liked. you nodded and slipped the hanger over your neck, allowing you to pretend to try it on. he tried not to think about the idea of you actually trying the clothes on, but the image of you stripping and redressing over and over remained in his mind.

hours flew by, and you ended up leaving with several huge bags stuffed full with an entire new wardrobe. the two of you joked around a bit as you exited the store, and you were surprised to find one of your coworkers waiting for you just outside the shop.

“give ‘em your stuff,” schlatt instructed. “they’re gonna take it to your room for you so we can keep shopping.”

you blinked a few times, confused, and handed off the bags. your coworker spoke to schlatt for a few minutes and then left you alone with him again. it was quiet for a bit before your boss broke the silence.

“time to pick another store,” he said.

you huffed in disbelief at his willingness to spend even more money on you and shook your head. “i don’t wanna play another guessing game; i got lucky with that last one. can you just point me to a makeup store and we can pretend that i found it?”

he chuckled and scanned the street you were on, eyes settling on a purple building towards the end of the road. “that one might be makeup,” he said, looking back at you.

“alright then, let’s do that one.” you took his hand once more and led him to the shop, repeating the process of putting anything you wanted into a basket and waiting for him to tell you to stop. he never did, in fact, he occasionally tossed in a product or two that he thought was nice.

after a bit, you turned around to find he was a short distance away, picking out stuff at the perfume counter for you. you smiled to yourself and walked over to him, smelling the ones he was trying to decide between.

“i like this one,” you stated, pointing to a bottle on the counter.

he nodded and turned to the attendant, conversing with her for a bit before taking a fancy looking box that she handed him, presumably with the scent you picked out inside. he set it gently into the nearly full basket and looked at you.

“anything else while we’re here?” he asked, glancing down at the pile of things resting in the tote he was carrying.

with a shake of your head, you responded, “no, this is already too much, schlatt.”

you weren’t looking at him, it was hard to meet his gaze, but you heard him scoff. “i’ll tell you when it’s too much, doll, don’t you worry about that.”

your cheeks flushed, how spoiled you felt by his kindness visible on your face. “i feel really bad. this is all so expensive.”

his hand landed on your shoulder in a soft, reassuring pat. “you deserve it. c’mon, lemme go pay and then i’ll take you to one more store.”

following him to through the store was rough, he walked fast and you almost lost him a few times. but you found him easily at the checkout counter due to how tall he was; his head stood out above all the aisles. you sidled up next to him as he swiped his card, wincing at the price visible on the screen. he flicked his dark eyes over to you- the ghost of a smile was playing at his lips as he took in how uncomfortable being treated like this made you.

and then you were back on the busy street, handing the bags to the same coworker and waving bye to them as they walked off in the direction of the hotel once more. checking your phone told you it was early afternoon at this point. and he still wanted to hit another store… was he going to waste an entire day on you?

“i’ll give you some options, toots,” he said gruffly after instructing you to put your phone away. the orders from him churned something deep in your stomach. “that blue one there, this one next door to us, or that one way over there. you see the one i’m talkin’ about?” he pointed to three stores and turned to you, awaiting your response.

you thought for a moment before choosing, and it ended up being a store full of things you didn’t necessarily need, but trinkets and gadgets you loved. your cart wasn’t as full at this store, but he still bought you anything you showed interest in and you walked out with even more bags. this time, no one was waiting for you, and schlatt took your hand before leading you to a small restaurant shoved in between two large buildings. you followed him, trusting he would keep you safe, but unsure of where you were going until he sat you down in a booth and ordered food for the both of you.

you talked for a long time, savoring your meal together and sharing sentiments and memories, and you didn’t notice until he had to step out to take a call that it was almost two hours later. something about him was so comforting, intoxicating, even. he just made you feel safe. you wished the dynamic between you two could be different. why did he have to be a good boss and not one of the creepy ones? you wished he would prey on you like you so desperately wanted him to.

he came back to find you staring at the leftover bites of food on your plate, instantly worried something had happened in the short time he was away from you. “what’s wrong? are you okay?” you tried not to let how hot he sounded when he was concerned about you affect your answer.

“yeah, no, i’m fine, schlatt,” you assured him once you blinked repeatedly a few times, trying to clear your thoughts of the filthy images of him. “just, still jet lagged. i’m really tired.”

your boss nodded and went to take care of the bill quickly, sharing a quick conversation with the workers before coming back to you and offering a hand to help you up. you grabbed your bags and took his hand, forgetting to let go once you were up and walking. he didn’t seem to mind.

the gentleman that he is, schlatt took you back to your hotel room and leaned against the wall as you fished your key out of your pockets. once you found it, he stood up straight and took a deep breath.

“take a good nap. i’ll be back to pick you up for dinner.”

you eyed him suspiciously, hand frozen, outreached to swipe your keycard. “why dinner? why more? what did i do to deserve this?” you grilled him.

schlatt put up his hands innocently. “i just feel bad for not letting you pack,” he lied again. “and you’re one of my best staff, why can’t i treat you?”

“because you don’t do this for anyone else,” you groaned. “i’m just worried the rest of ‘em are gonna look at me weird.”

he shook his head, trying not to smile. “i’ll fire whoever treats you differently. promise,” he extended his pinkie towards you.

“no, schlatt, that’s the problem!” you sighed. his face remained the same, little finger still reaching out to make a deal, and you folded. “whatever, i’m gonna go sleep, just… don’t fire anyone because of me.”

pensively, he nodded. “sleep good.”

you waited for him to leave, but he just leaned against the wall next to your door again. with a loud, defeated sigh, you let yourself in and closed the door behind you. now that you saw just how many full shopping bags sat on the table, you felt even worse. he had to have spent countless thousands on you. if only you could figure out what his true motivation was for doing all this…

you couldn’t help yourself from unpacking some of your new stuff, running your fingers over your new, expensive belongings. after a bit, you remembered that you needed to be sleeping, and you put your things back before tucking yourself into the plush, comfy bed. sleep took hold of you, and you rested for hours before waking to a phone call from schlatt.

“huh?” you said when you answered, still in the clutches of unconsciousness. his laugh woke you up, though.

“jesus, i was worried i’d have to come wake you up again,” he chuckled into his cell. “i’ll be there in about an hour, start getting ready.”

“how fancy do i need to dress?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes.

“wear that dress you picked out,” he replied. “the black one. i gotta go, i’ll be there soon, toots.” with that, he hung up, leaving you groggy and turned on from his orders. you ignored the feelings in your core and got up, changing into the dress he wanted and doing your makeup. the music you put on while you got ready did a good job of distracting you from how nervous you were, but once you had finished everything you needed to do, you perched on the edge of the bed and went over the day’s events in your mind. you had about ten minutes left until he was here to pick you up, and you counted down the seconds eagerly, unsure of if this evening would change the dynamic between the two of you.

you sprung up off the bed when he knocked at the door, grabbing a purse he had bought you earlier that you filled with your necessities for the night. opening the door revealed schlatt standing there, leaning against the frame again, dressed in a button down, slacks, and a blazer. you blinked a few times at how good he looked- you had never seen him dressed like this before and it was strange.

“what is this?” you asked quietly, taking in how nice the two of you were dressed. “this doesn’t feel like just a dinner.” you were wary of him, unsure of what his intentions were.

he rolled his eyes and scoffed, extending a hand out to invite you to join him. “will you just trust me? spent almost twelve thousand dollars on you today and you won’t even join me for dinner…” he scolded and shook his head.

eyes bulging, your jaw fell open. “twelve thousand??? schlatt, oh my god!!” you sounded horrified, and you spun around to look at all the bags again. “i can’t believe you would do that, i feel so awful.”

“makin’ you feel awful is not the goal, doll. now can you please just take my arm so i can treat you to the best dinner you’ve ever had?” he looked earnest enough, and you swallowed the lump in your throat before nodding and accepting his hand, determined to give him a shot.

“as long as you promise to buy me drinks,” you joked, letting the door fall shut behind you as he began to lead you down the hall to the elevator.

“i wouldn’t dream of letting you stay sober tonight,” he smiled.

you were just a bit beyond tipsy, laughing raucously at every joke schlatt was making. he had taken you to the fanciest steakhouse around, just a short walk from the hotel. the food was incredible, and the alcohol just kept coming. you suspected he slipped the staff some money earlier to get the two of you a secluded booth with an amazing view, but couldn’t prove it. all you knew was there was no one around and you could see the whole city from your seat across from him.

“i still don’t understand why you’re doing all of this for me,” you giggled, sipping your drink. “not complaining, not at all, i like being spoiled. but it’s confusing.” you were hiccupping every few words.

“you’re never gonna shut up about it, are you?” he asked, downing the last of his whiskey. “at least now you’re bein’ grateful for it. glad i could get you to admit you like being spoiled, though.”

“it wasn’t you that made me admit it, schlatt, it was the alcohol.” you leaned in close to whisper the last part and his eyes widened slightly when he smelled how strong your breath was.

“okay, toots, i believe you. i think it’s time to get you back to your room, hmm?” he sounded genuinely concerned, worried that he might have gotten you a bit too intoxicated. he couldn’t go through with his plan if you were all the way drunk, then you might not remember it in the morning- and he wanted you to remember what he was going to do to you.

“can i have dessert?”

a soft smile crossed his lips. “yeah, i’ll order us some dessert.” he flagged down some wait staff and talked with them for a bit before they left, returning a few minutes later with several different plates of different desserts.

you squealed, giddy from your sweet tooth, and sampled all of them, passing the best ones across the table with an, “ohhh, you gotta try this one!” or, “this one’s soooo good.” he nodded, taking small bites of whichever ones you passed to him. as you ate your treats, he took care of the bill, and once you had finished, the two of you were ready to go. he helped you up and out of the booth, and escorted you out of the restaurant and down the short trek to the hotel. it was dark out now, and the two of you slunk by everyone quickly. the pace he set was manageable, but only just so in the heels you were wearing.

once you two arrived at the hotel, you got on the elevator, giggling and joking with each other before stumbling out onto your floor. he walked you to your door and hesitated. you didn’t notice, though; you were just trying to find your room key in your purse. he spoke before you could, though.

“can i come in?” he asked. his voice sounded nervous.

you looked up at him, still digging in your purse. “for what?”

he sighed and pulled a keycard out of his pocket, swiping it and letting you both in. “you really wanna know why i bought you all that shit?” you entered first, him trailing behind you. there was a large, plain black bag sitting on your bed that wasn’t there when you left. you were tipsy, but you swore it was new.

“yeah, schlatt, i do.” you set your purse down on a table and turned around to face him. he was standing close to you, so close you had to look up to make eye contact. “what the fuck is all this about?”

he took a deep breath, hand coming up to rest on your waist. you flicked your eyes to where he was touching you, fireworks exploding under your skin, and looked back up at him. “i thought maybe if i spoiled you rotten you’d have a lot harder time saying no,” he spoke softly.

“saying no to what?” you questioned, raising one eyebrow at him. he walked closer to you and you backed up, him walking you to the bed until you were sitting on the edge and he was looking down at you. reaching into the black bag, he pulled out a bundle of rope and a piece of silk that you could only guess would go in your mouth to gag you. “schlatt?” you asked, voice trembling.

“i won’t hurt you, i promise. not unless you want me to,” he breathed, gently grabbing your chin. “do you want me to?”

you froze as he bent down to whisper the last question in your ear, goosebumps raising at the feeling of his breath against your neck. you couldn’t stop yourself. “yeah,” you gasped. “yeah, i do.” you felt him grin against your skin as he pressed an open mouth kiss to your throat, earning a whimper from you.

his massive hands were warm as they pawed at your dress, slipping behind you to undo the zipper. you shivered at the cool air as the garment fell from your shoulders, exposing the lacy black set you were wearing. it slid all the way off you and you kicked it away, reaching down to undo your shoes and pulling those off as well. you felt extremely vulnerable in front of him, most of your skin exposed as he pushed you down to lay on your back. he began kissing your collarbones, down to your chest, all the way down your stomach, and buried his face in your clothed heat. you moaned, face burning red, and bucked your hips up into his face.

schlatt snickered and pulled his face away, causing you to whimper at the sudden loss of kisses being planted on your clit. “this’s gonna be fun,” he mumbled, standing up and adjusting his pants. you couldn’t help but notice how tight they were. you started to speak as you sat up, but he shushed you and grabbed the piece of silk, gagging you with it and securing it around your mouth. he patted you on the head when he finished, mumbling an, “attagirl,” before grabbing the rope and positioning you with your hands behind your back.

you let out some muffled noises, confused, but obeyed. he tied your arms tightly, ensuring you were securely bound by the restraints before bringing the rope around your waist to the front and doing an intricate knot pattern, enveloping you in the cord like a harness.

schlatt paused after a while of tying, gently undoing your bra and removing it before drinking the sight of your bare chest in. he only savored the sight of you for a moment before resuming the knots.

once the rope came back around to your hips, he flicked his eyes up to look at yours and knelt down between your legs. you couldn’t have said anything even if you weren’t gagged, the visual of him pressing his face into your core again stole the air from your lungs. his dark, lust-filled eyes stared up at you, as if he was trying to memorize the sight of you.

luckily, he didn’t have to.

you whined when he pulled away, and yelped when he delivered a sharp smack to your face.

“shut the fuck up, doll,” he warned. “i promise you i’m gonna make you feel good. now lemme finish tyin’ you up.”

tears stung your eyes as you nodded silently, and you feared only for a fleeting second that you had put yourself in a bad situation. but then you were too horny to care.

he tugged your panties off with one rough motion, eyeing you suspiciously when you shivered from the feeling of cool air on your cunt, but nodded almost imperceptibly when you stayed still for him. he carefully finished binding you, leaving your legs able to be moved but tightening the restraints on your arms so that you had no choice but to be obedient.

when he was done, schlatt took a step back and admired his work for a bit before reaching into the black bag again. this time, he pulled out his old camcorder and a polaroid camera. your face immediately flushed with the realization that he planned to immortalize the image of you in this pathetic position forever. you imagined him returning to watch the footage over and over, stroking his cock and panting every time. the polaroids would go in his wallet, you fantasized.

“smile, toots!” broke you out of your trance. the camera flashed, and soon it spit out a photo of you sitting there on the edge of the bed. he shook it out a bit and chuckled quietly when it developed, staring at it possessively before showing it to you. “look at you, so pretty sittin’ there for me. let me get a few more, okay? just in case,” his voice was velvet, coating you in desire and anticipation. the replay of his rich timbre in your mind was the only thing that kept you satiated while he posed you, spreading your legs apart for the last few pictures so that your wet hole was on full display.

you made the mistake of not looking directly at the camera for the second picture, embarrassed to be seen like this, and schlatt tsked when he saw the image. his big hand reached out and smacked you once more, and this time, tears started falling. that only spurred him on, though.

“awh, yeah, doll, that’s a good idea. cry f’ me.” he smiled cruelly, raising the camera to his eye to take even more photos. “but keep your fuckin’ eyes right here.”

you felt more drops fall from your eyes, unsure of if they were genuine or just to appease him. regardless, he loved it. he nearly cackled at how ruined you were beginning to look, makeup now running down your face, hair mussed. it all added to the photos, which he was collecting quite the stack of.

once he felt he had enough, he fanned them all out in his hands and swept his eyes over them. after organizing them a bit, how so you couldn’t even begin to guess, he set them on the nightstand and walked over to set the camcorder up so that it would capture everything he was about to do to you.

you admired him from behind as he knelt down in front of the camera, adjusting it and hitting record when it was ready. as soon as he did, his demeanor changed; he moved more quickly, more impatiently, as he walked back towards you, grabbed you by the throat, and spat on you.

you shied away from him slightly but continued to gaze up at him lovingly. “you’re so fucking pitiful, y’know that?” he growled. “gotta hand it to ya though, twelve thousand is quite a price. well, i guess almost fourteen after dinner. god, you really can put it away, huh? not to mention the drinks,” he smirked down at you as your eyes widened and you looked away, embarrassed to have cost him that much. “let’s find out if you’re worth that much, huh, doll?”

schlatt reached into the black bag once again, and you wondered when would be the last time. this time his hand came out clutching a vibrator he had hooked up to his phone. you froze in shock as he reached towards you with it, processing too slowly to stop what he was going to do. he wasted no time pushing it deep inside you and pulling out his phone. you whimpered quietly while he fiddled with the app, the seconds drawing on and on until you couldn’t take it anymore. and just when you were about to do something, anything, he turned it on.

spasms rocked through you; the vibrations were so intense it felt like pleasure was curling around and enveloping every nerve ending in your body. you could’ve sworn you were burning, everything felt so white-hot. stars were all you could see as you tried to adjust to the feelings ringing out from deep inside you. eventually, you stabilized, and he guided your chin to make you look into his eyes, as if he was checking to make sure you were okay. you just blinked slowly, lust clouding both of your judgements.

when he decided you were fine, he set the vibrator to an intense rhythm and began unbuckling his belt, undoing his pants eagerly before pulling out his cock and pumping it in his hand. your eyes were wide and glued to his shaft, greedily following the movement, and you didn’t notice his other hand coming up to tear the piece of silk from your face. immediately he shoved his entire length down your throat, not giving you any time to babble whatever complaints you had. his bush was flush against your face, and you cried yet again from how rough he was face fucking you. he shifted positions after a bit, his hips only faltering in pace when he turned to check that the camera had a good view of your mouth being abused. he brought one leg up to rest on the bed, allowing him to get even deeper. he was alternating between tossing his head back in pleasure and holding it up to watch you.

you, however, were sobbing, helpless to stop the ravaging of your mouth, not to even mention the constant vibrations coming from the toy inside you. you had lost count of how many orgasms you had, completely giving in to him and the endless pleasure he was bringing you. he only stopped when your thighs started shaking and you squirted all over the bed.

“jesus, toots,” he laughed, still in your mouth. “the toy still in there?”

you nodded slightly.

“attagirl,” he mumbled. he pulled out and chuckled at your desperate, heaving gasps once you could breathe properly again. “i’m gonna fuck you now, doll, okay?”

you nodded eagerly, used to having to be quiet.

“i took the gag off for a reason, toots, and it wasn’t just to fuck your throat. let me hear your words.”

“yes, schlatt, please. please, god please i need you so bad. pl—” you begged before being cut off by him pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips. you moaned in surprise and kissed him back furiously before he pulled away.

“a simple ‘yes’ would’ve done,” he smiled. the wholesome moment didn’t last long, though, soon he was taking off the rest of his clothes so he was also nude and bending you onto your hands and knees. he groaned at the sight of your pussy, ass up in the air and ready and waiting for him. you bit your lip as you sat patiently, glancing at the camera and quickly looking away while you blushed at the idea of someone watching this in the future.

he plunged a finger in, teasing you and stretching you out a bit before fishing out the vibrator and turning it off, tossing it to the side. you relaxed a bit at the momentary lack of stimulation, but yelped when he smacked your ass. you felt him lining himself up with you and tried to calm the nerves buzzing in your stomach.

when he pushed in, you let out a quiet, drawn out moan. schlatt copied you, eyes trained on where you were damn near sucking him into you, entranced by the sight of his length slipping into your dripping folds.

“god, you're so tight,” he spoke through gritted teeth. he tried to let you adjust to his size for a moment, but after a few seconds, he said, “fuck it, i can't wait any longer.” with that, he began slamming in and out of you, hard, enough to make a loud smack every time his hips met your ass.

“takin’ me so well, doll,” he praised, slowing down slightly to adjust you and keep you propped up for the camera.

you just wailed, approaching another orgasm. the clench of your walls around him signaled to him what was about to happen, and he grinned as he brought his hand around to your clit to rub circles into it.

“schlatt!!!” you screamed, tears streaming down your face.

he grunted and smacked your ass again, repeatedly, watching the recoil of it every time. “god, you sound pretty when you scream my name like that,” he growled.

you called out his name again, and again, and again, over and over until your throat was raw as he pounded you. somehow, you forgot about the camera.

he didn't, though. when he was getting close, he pulled out and spun you around roughly, glancing to make sure you were still in frame before finishing himself off and spurting his cum all over your face and chest. you sat there, staring up at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes, until he was done and he walked off to grab the polaroid. he took a few shots of you covered in his seed before putting them back and dipping his finger in it, bringing it to your lips where you greedily licked it off him.

he scoffed, trying to hide how turned on he was by that, and positioned himself between your legs, sliding in again with ease. you moaned, the sound like music to his ears— he had never heard or seen anything as beautiful as you, the sight of your cum-covered tits bouncing as he rocked his hips was sure to stay with him for the rest of his life.

schlatt didn't mean to, but his hand found its way to your throat and clutched it tightly. he only realized what he was doing when you began squirming, then thrashing in an attempt to escape his grip. he released your neck and shook out his hand, blinking his eyes a few times as he dialed back in on how good you were feeling trapped under him.

he rolled his hips skillfully, fucking into you at a brutal pace as he made sure to hit the deepest parts of you he could. at this point, your legs were hooked over his shoulders, and he was insistent on bending them even further, until he had you in a mating press underneath him. you were singing on his cock, nonstop whorish noises spilling from your lips.

“god, you’re gonna milk me dry,” he laughed breathlessly as you came around his cock for what felt like the millionth time.

“fuuuck!” you screeched, eyes rolling back into your head. “schlatt, please,” you begged him— though what you wanted, he wasn’t sure of.

“doll, you keep beggin’ me like that and all you’re gonna get is my fat fuckin’ load deep in that pussy,” he warned. you somehow understood his threat in your post-orgasm haze and lit up at the possibility of being bred by him.

“please!! please, schlatt, i’ve been so good, please give it to me,” you rambled frantically, gaze fixed on his perfect visage. his brown hair was messy, and a few strands kept falling in front of his face as his dark eyes puzzled through why you would want that. eventually, he settled on giving you what you wanted, his thrusts slowing in pace but increasing in force as he got closer and closer before burying his cock to the hilt in you and painting your walls with an enormous amount of cum. you prayed none of it would spill out the whole time schlatt was collapsed onto your chest, breathing heavily.

he watched himself pull out of you and groaned at the sight of his sperm leaking from your cunt, quickly reaching to snap some pictures and eventually bringing the camcorder to capture your ruined makeup and fucked out state. when he was done, he shut the camera off and quickly went to work untying you.

“did so good f’me, ‘m so proud,” he murmured as he worked, gently rubbing the places on your skin where the rope hurt you. he placed a kiss to every one and continued to praise you.

you couldn’t say anything, too tired from being used like that, so you just let him take care of you and stared at him in adoration.

“d’ya want me to stay the night? can i?” he asked softly once he freed you from your restraints. “i was thinking i could help run you a bath or something…”

“please stay,” you rasped, clearing your throat. “i don’t want you to go.” the last sentence was quiet, but he still heard it, evident by the smile that crossed his lips.

“alright then, toots, you won’t be gettin’ rid of me for the rest of the trip.”

[eff4freddie]

Play With Me

Joel Miller x AFAB Reader

Explicit - Minors DNI

You've found some creative ways to find time for each other in the past, and now for the first night in a while you've got the house to yourself. You're going to spoil yourself.

(AU no outbreak)

Warnings: Absolutely did not expect this to turn into a three-part series but here we are, I love these two horny weirdos, phone sex, Facetime-assisted tomfoolery, bath time, oral (f receiving), fingering, P in V, little bit of relationship-y stuff, bit of fluff maybe also, praise kink, dirty talk, squirting, these two are fun

Words: 5.5k

Part 1: Play With It

Part 2: Play With Her

Weeks had gone by since what you both called the ‘Frankie thing’. You didn’t bring it up unless you wanted to get Joel hot under the collar, and your prize was to watch the red blush right up his neck to his earlobes every time. You fell back into your usual routine, your shifts at the hospital got longer, got later, the jobsite got busier, Joel came home more and more in the dark.

He’d still manage to find little ways to make you feel special, to make you ache for him. Whispering ‘did he taste as sweet as me?’ to you as he bent down to kiss you goodbye, or sliding his hand along the inside of your thigh as you bent to pick up your backpack for the day. Little notes left on your dresser, of love and of wanting and enough to tide you over ‘til your schedules aligned.

You missed him, of course you missed him. The mornings when you rolled over to find him still beside you, tucking yourself into his chest and humming happily to yourself as you felt your eyelids drift shut, those were the mornings that made it possible to bear waking up alone, his side of the bed gently cooling, the smell of his shampoo still lingering on his pillow.

You sighed. Tonight, for the first time in a while, you would have the house all to yourself. It was Friday, and Joel had gently reminded you the night before that he had a boys night planned with Tommy and a couple of the guys from the site, a way to blow off steam after the long nights dealing with shitty suppliers, with bad weather and rusting equipment. You were only disappointed for a moment, reminding him that Sarah was off for the night with a friend and that you would be all alone in that big house, baby. He’d blushed again, a dangerous thickening in his pants before he managed to set himself right again.

‘M’sorry, baby,’ he’d said, with genuine contrition on his face.

‘It’s ok, sweet man,’ you’d said, resting your hand on his cheek and gazing up at him warmly. ‘Maybe I’ll see what Frankie’s up to.’

His little bark of surprised laughter was enough to get you through your night shift, as was the sting of his palm on your bottom where he’d playfully spanked you into a giggling, entirely false, apology.

So it was you found yourself sidling your aching bones into an empty house, the quiet of it unsettling for its unfamiliarity. You waited in the doorway, hovering, almost expecting Sarah to jump out from behind a couch and surprise you, but you were met with only silence.

You decided you were going to make the most of it, even if you ached for Joel. You were going to have a bath, and you were going to order a pizza, and you were going to be needlessly, pointlessly indulgent, because you had earned it, and because there was no one around to catch you.

--

You held your glass of wine just over the waterline, your head resting on the shower tile. You had your phone on the counter beside you playing music softly, the silence still setting you on edge if you let yourself slip into it. You felt the ease of your muscles in the warmth of the water, the pizza settling heavy but welcome in your belly. You splayed your toes, playing with the bubbles on the surface of the water, and smiled to yourself when they popped against your skin. You wondered what Joel was up to, what dive bar Tommy’d dragged him to, and if he missed you, and then you reminded yourself you weren’t doing that tonight, that tonight was about what you wanted, and you thought about his cock instead.

And his arms, wrapped fast and safe around you, holding him to you. And the cords of his veins just beneath the surface of his skin, and how you could feel his pulse when you laved there with your tongue. You thought about the little high-pitched whines you could wring from him, palming your tits as you took him in your mouth. You gasped a little, the sense-memory sending a bolt of want into your cunt, and you settled yourself down into the water, your racing heart refracting in the water around you, the reverberating beat turning cavernous against the enamel of the bath.

As if you had conjured it, you heard the vibrations of your phone and you tried to flick the water from your hand before you reached for it.

He sounded tinny, an echo you couldn’t place behind his voice. ‘Hey, baby,’ he said, and you felt the tension melt from your shoulders.

‘Hi…’ you whispered, suddenly bashful, as if he could read your thoughts.

‘What you up to, Babygirl?’ he asked, and you could hear the grin. ‘Thought you were kiddin’ about getting Frankie over.’

You giggled, gently, into the warmth surrounding you. ‘Just me tonight, I promise,’ you assured.

‘Where are you, honey?’ he asked. ‘You in bed?’

‘Mmm-mmm,’ you hummed, waiting for a second to drop the bomb on him. ‘In the bath.’

You heard him moan a little, like you’d wounded him. ‘You all wet and soapy in there?’ he grunted, and you grinned before you caught yourself.

‘Where are you?’ you asked, suddenly worried Tommy could overhear.

‘Just outside the bar, was missin’ ya,’ he said, in that plainly Joel way that he could state something so simply, a want for you without any effort to mask it, enough that he could take your breath away.

‘You left your boys to talk to me?’

‘Keep thinkin’ bout you all alone in that big house.’

‘You been worrying what I might get up to?’ you teased.

‘Know exactly what you might get up to, an’ that’s the problem,’ he grumbled back, but you could hear the levity in it, could hear his dimple emerging proud on his cheek.

‘Was thinkin’ about what I might do if you were home, actually,’ you said, trying to match his matter-of-fact tone.

‘That right?’ he asked, and you smiled. You had him.

‘Mmhmm, thinking about the sounds you make when I’ve got you in my mouth.’ He groaned again, and you giggled. ‘Yeah, like that one, for example,’ you said.

‘God, it’s been too long, baby,’ he complained and you hummed in agreement. ‘You wanna…you wanna show me?’

‘Aren’t you out on the street somewhere?’ you asked.

‘I went back to my car to call ya, I’m just in a little street by the bar.’

‘Joel, people get arrested for that sorta thing.’

‘Ain’t no one around, baby, I promise,’ he said, and you could hear the whine in his voice, the neediness creeping in.

‘Is it dark enough?’ you asked, and you heard him sigh in victory.

‘Plenty dark, baby,’ he reassured. You hesitated for a moment longer, pushing your wet hair back off your face. You connected Facetime, holding the phone in front of you as you waited for him to appear.

You could see him fumbling, the phone slippery in his grip until he had it upright, trained on his face. You could just make it out, his skin pale in muted light coming in through the window, and you were surprised at just how dark it was. You couldn’t even really make out the street behind him.

You squinted. ‘You in there?’ he asked, and you saw the flash of his grin.

‘I see you, pretty lady,’ he said, and you realised the suds were covering less than you expected, the water levitating your breast just slightly, your nipples lengthening in the cool air and the heat of Joel’s gaze. You blushed a little, swishing some of the waning bubbles over yourself. You saw Joel pout in response.

‘This feels familiar,’ you said, and he grinned.

‘Know it does, but I don’t mind it,’ he said.

‘We make do,’ you agreed.

‘You wet for me, Babygirl?’ he asked, blunt again in that Joel way, and you gasped a little.

‘Well I’m in the bath…’ you teased, and he rolled his eyes.

‘Y’know what I meant,’ he responded.

‘No baby, I’m confused,’ you smiled, feigning ignorance, hoping to push him into saying something truly filth-

‘You achey and hot in that sweet little cunt’a yours?’ he asked, his voice gravel and dark as sin. You gasped, the pleasure of it shooting through to your core, your pussy suddenly pounding along with your heart.

‘Jesus,’ you uttered and you heard him chuckle.

‘Can see you blushin’ even from here,’ he said. The phone shifted a little, as if he was moving his grip, and you realised he was shuffling around to try and release himself from his pants. You leant forward, trying to see through the gloom.

‘Want to see me, baby?’ he asked, and you nodded your head, waiting as he angled the camera down. To your dismay you were met with almost total darkness.

‘I can’t…’ you started, frustration evident in your voice, and you heard him click his tongue.

‘Let me describe it for ya,’ he offered, and you nodded. ‘S’pulsin’, baby, can feel it throbbin’ in m’hand for you.’ Joel’s accent got thicker the more turned on he got. It was his tell, and you hadn’t told him you’d noticed it in fear that he would somehow rein it in.

‘Is it smooth?’ you asked. ‘Skin soft?’

‘Not as soft as that delicate skin you got on those precious l’il tits, baby,’ he said. ‘Can practically feel ‘em in m’mouth, your little nipple caught between m’teeth.’

You groaned, settling back, keeping the phone trained on your face as you let your eyes fall shut. Joel’s voice was enough to get you there, if you were honest. He could read you the shopping list and you’d come over all shaky-kneed and wanting in the middle of the grocery store.

‘Love teasing ‘em, one between m’fingers and suckin’ on the other. Love the way they swing and settle on m’cheeks when you start squirmin’ f’me.’

You could feel him, ghosts of his lips on your skin. He could play with your tits for hours, hefting them and watching them drop, rolling them in his palm, between his fingers, sucking and biting and easing the burn with his tongue. You sighed.

‘You touchin’ y’self, Babygirl?’ he asked, and you shook your head.

‘Not yet,’ you said, ‘imagining you here with me.’

‘Yeah, what you thinkin’ about exactly?’ he asked, and you could hear that he was breathless, that his voice carrying a subtle tremble.

‘When you eat my tits with your fingers inside me,’ you said, too turned on to mince your words. You heard his breath stutter, the unmistakable sound of skin sliding over skin.

‘What else, baby?’ he asked, and you closed your eyes again, letting the warmth of the bath water become his arms surrounding you, lifting you up, the wall behind you the warm, muscled planes of his chest.

‘Imagine you with one hand pinching my nipple, the other rolling my clit.’ You paused, gathering a breath. ‘Then you…you put your fingers…’ you trailed away, suddenly self-conscious, unable to see him but knowing he could see you plain as day.

‘Tell me, baby. S’ok to tell me what you want from me.’

‘You put your fingers in my cunt,’ you said, hearing his sharp breath as you slide your fingers down your belly, remembering after a moment to angle the phone to let him see. ‘Right here,’ you said, pulling your knees apart and lifting your hips a little, letting him see the pink of your folds, puffy and needy for him, leaking slick despite the water around you.

‘Oh, there she is,’ he whispered, and you whimpered, tracing your slick with your finger, turning light little glances on your clit.

‘Then you pump them,’ you went on, ‘you give me two until you stretch me out enough for a third.’

‘So tight, she’s so tight f’me,’ he agreed.

‘You stretch me out, though, make it so it’s good, so it’ll fit.’

‘Always, baby,’ he said, and you wished more than anything in that moment that you could see him, see the hunger in his eyes as his gaze settled at your core.

You whimpered, your frustration showing, and he sighed.

‘Wish I was there,’ he said, and you nodded, sullen. ‘What would I do if I was?’ he asked, needing to keep you talking, needing to hear the filth that could conjure for him, so fascinated by the contrast of your sweet, beautiful face and the true depths of your depravity. He loved every inch of it, loved what you could come up with when he had you so turned on you didn’t even know what you were saying.

‘You’d drain the bath,’ you said, and he tutted.

‘Cold, baby,’ he said, and you shook your head.

‘Mm-mm, because you’d be all over me,’ you said, as if this was obvious. ‘You’d be on your knees in front of me, and you’d hook my leg up over the edge of the bath and lift my hips up t’your mouth, and you’d eat my pussy until I squirted my come right down your throat.’

‘Sweet Baby Jesus,’ he muttered, his Southern truly showing now. ‘Drink you up, baby,’ he muttered.

‘Wanna see you,’ you groused. ‘Want you here with me.’

He swallowed, worried he was going to blow his cover. He could feel the tremor in his hands, the phone slippery in his sweaty palm.

‘What would I do t’ya after that?’ he asked, over a dry throat.

‘You’d pull me up and sling me over the counter, and you’d fuck up into me while you watched my face in the mirror,’ you said, glancing over at it as if you could conjure yourself there by sheer force of will.

He groaned, long and low. There you were, his filthy girl.

‘Baby…’ he gasped, not even sure what he was trying to tell you. You whined anyway, nodding your head at him, as you angled the phone to show him your fingers dancing fast over your clit now.

‘Come home, Joel,’ you groaned. ‘Don’t wanna come without your cock in me again.’

‘Again?’ he asked. ‘You been touchin’ y’self, baby?’

‘So much,’ you confessed, breathless. ‘So wet for you all day, can barely concentrate at work. Gotta…take care of it.’

He gasped. ‘She want it that bad?’ he asked, genuine surprise lacing his words.

‘I want you that bad,’ you replied, earnest. ‘Don’t you know, Joel?’

‘I didn’t…’ he said, feeling something swell bright and warm behind his chest. ‘I thought…I don’t know, thought you might be…after Frankie’n all, and these little phone things…’

Your hand stilled between your legs, focussing in again on what he was trying to communicate. He’d shifted his phone back to his face and you could see him examining you, like he was scanning for some kind of trick, for a lie.

‘Thought maybe I wasn’t…it wasn’t enough for ya, just when it’s…when it’s you and me.’

You let his words settle for a moment, as if you could make them make sense if you gave them enough time to marinate.

‘Baby, I love when it’s just us,’ you said, genuine confusion on your face. ‘I love the phone stuff, and the Frankie thing was…great, of course it was…but that’s just cherry on the top stuff, Baby. You’re the…the meal I want, any time, any day of the week.’

You could see him enough, just in the hint of light in the car window, that he had stopped moving too, was letting your words wash over him.

‘I worried I’d been…neglectin’ ya.’

‘You’re busy, Joel, and you have a lot of responsibilities on the jobsite. I know that, and I love that about you.’

‘Even if it takes me away from ya sometimes?’ he asked, and you could see it, then, that he was open to you in this moment, that he was somehow more your Joel than ever right now, this Joel that he only ever allowed you to see.

‘My sweet man,’ you said, wanting to reach into the screen and land a kiss on his brow. ‘I miss you, of course I do, but I ain’t mad about it when I can see it matters to you. That it makes you happy.’

He was quiet, gazing at you, like he couldn’t let himself believe it.

‘You wouldn’t want me not to work at the hospital, right?’ you prompted.

‘Course not, baby, you worked so hard f’that, and I’m prouda you.’

‘Right,’ you said. He considered this for a moment.

‘Ah, fuck,’ he said, huffing out a laugh. ‘M’a damn fool.’

You giggled, feeling the tension break.

‘My fool,’ you reminded him.

‘Stay there, Babygirl,’ he said suddenly, the phone shifting as he abruptly hung up. You blinked, double checking the phone to ensure that he definitely disconnected. You were about to call him back, thinking maybe the call dropped, before you heard the front door open and slam shut, heavy footfalls on the steps you knew instantly to be his.

‘Joel?’ you called in surprise as he pulled open the bathroom door, panting a little and his cheeks red. ‘Where…how did you…’

‘Was in the garage,’ he said, blushing slightly as he grabbed a towel and pulled you to stand.

‘You were…why?’

‘The phone thing, thought it’d be…y’know, hot like last time.’

‘I mean, it was. You were in the garage?’

‘Sshh, baby,’ he said, planting a kiss on your lips to quiet you as he wrapped you in the towel and pulled you from the bath, his hand sliding gently underneath to rest on your butt. ‘I was being’ dumb, but I’ll make it up t’ya.’

You barely had time to consider what he meant before he had you up over his shoulder, spanking you lightly as you squawked, your wet skin dampening his shirt. He carried you and dropped you heavy on the bed, his cock prominent and tenting in his pants as he gazed down at you, your towel having come loose in the commotion, your sweet little cunt peeping out from between your thighs as your legs fell open.

‘Such a sight, my beautiful girl,’ he said, allowing himself a moment to drink in the view before he got down on his knees on the carpet, ignoring the strain of the joint. ‘Been thinkin’ about this delicious pussy for days, for weeks, for m’whole life it feels like,’ he grumbled, and you gasped as he pulled your legs apart at the knees, slinging one over his shoulder and opening you up for him.

‘Drippin’ for me,’ he observed, running his nose over your slit, parting your folds with it as he puffed hot air across your gathering slick.

‘Baby,’ you whimpered, grasping for his hair with your hands. ‘Please, God, please…’

‘Sssh, I gotchya baby, I know,’ he comforted, holding you for just a moment longer in this torture, enjoying the way you were already squirming for him. You sighed as you felt his tongue finally lick a path up your folds, his nose still pressing gentle into your clit.

He lapped at you, pulsing need settling in his core as he considered himself having come home in this moment, having nestled in the warmth and sweet softness of your cunt, from which he never wished to depart. He felt the fluttering squeeze of your walls on his tongue, trying to pull him in, and he smiled, extending his tongue to fuck up inside you. Your slick overflowing from his mouth he savoured your sweet nectar, the grip of your thighs around his ears enough to tell him he was doing a good job.

You gasped as he moved, shifting to slide first one finger and then a second into your core. You felt yourself stretch even now, his thick fingers not even a fraction of the true heft of him, feeling the burn and the stretch and still the pulsing ache for his cock inside you, for him to properly split you, to mould you to him from the inside out. You keened as he suckled sweet and tight at your clit, his fingers scissoring now inside you, pushing at your walls as he hooked them towards your navel.

‘Oh, fuck…’ you muttered, clutching for him now, trying to draw him into you by the scalp. ‘Jesus, Joel, baby it’s so…’

‘Fuck,’ he mumbled, coming up for air for just a moment. ‘Those fuckin’ sounds you make, baby,’ he groaned, remembering how you moaned when Frankie slid his cock in your throat as he watched, remembering your sweet little gasps as he ate you, as Joel gripped himself and imagined it was him, imagined it was this moment, with you powerless from the pleasure he was wringing from you with his mouth, with his hands.

But you were shaking your head now, trying to push him away as he grunted, attempted to resist.

‘No, no…’ you were muttering, your head lolling from side to side.

‘Just give me this one, baby,’ he instructed.

‘Don’t wanna come yet,’ you complained, genuinely worried the pleasure would end you, grind the planet to a halt, make it fall off its axis and hurtle humanity into the tumbling dark. ‘Too good! Too good, Joel, oh God.’

Joel chuckled, only increasing the pace of his fingers inside you, preparing you for a third. ‘Just gimme this one, baby, and then y’can come on m’cock, promise,’ he swore, all earnest and feigned concern as if he wasn’t systematically taking you apart.

You could feel it, the twisting of the spring in your core, your abdomen tightening as you rolled your hips. You could feel the heat clawing up your chest, your cheeks burning, as he pushed his third finger hope. You heard yourself cry out, clawing at him, as he latched his mouth back to your clit, drawing it between his teeth and nibbling in a way that set every nerve ending ablaze.

You weren’t going to be able to stop it. He was going to make you come, and he wasn’t going to give you a choice. You felt the pleasure seize you, your body going rigid, overwrought as you felt tears slip onto your cheeks.

‘Joel!’ you gasped, one last attempt to implore him for mercy, before you felt the cord snap, the crash of your release as you fell over the edge, your eyes screwed shut as you rode his hand, your cunt caught in his beautiful, unforgiving mouth.

He watched you arc, your back rising from the bed as you rode out your pleasure, doing his best to keep his mouth on you as your hips rolled. He would never get tired of this, would work his fingers to the bone every day if it meant he could come home every night and tease these sounds from you, make you spasm for him, drink down your slick like it was the essence of life itself.

You hadn’t even really come down yet, your breath still in rapid gasps, your body still boneless beneath him, as he rolled you, pulling you by the hips onto all four and helping you lean your forehead to the mattress to steady you. Presenting your cunt to him this way, your folds blooming out from between the top of your thighs, your thighs stretched and your tits swaying beneath you. This was how he would keep you if he could, wet and gasping for him, splayed out and soon to be full of him, keep you leaking him on the bed of a daytime while he worked just to bring home sparking diamonds to lay in your upturned palms.

You were a fucking goddess like this, he thought. He wanted to show you.

You were dimly aware of his movements behind you, of his body reaching over you, his back on yours, as he slipped something cold and hard into your hand.

‘Look, baby,’ he said, as you lifted your head from the mattress to examine the phone he had given you. It was ringing. A Facetime call from him.

Without really understanding you answered, a sudden and lurid view of your cunt greeting you on the screen. You shifted, glancing down to see his phone, camera up, resting on the mattress between your knees.

‘Watch me stretch her, baby. Watch ‘er takin’ me,’ he grunted, and you shivered, eyes glued to the phone as his cock slid into frame. You jumped, a little giggle escaping you, as you felt it brush against your slit as you watched on the little screen.

‘Lookit how she’s drippin’,’ Joel praised from behind you, his hands settling on your hips as he leaned over your shoulder, watching his cock press firm against your folds. ‘Watch me slip inside ya,’ he preened, almost proud of his ingenuity and his irrevocably filthy mind.

He pushed forward, the tip slipping between your folds, the little pinch of resistance making you gasp before your pussy opened up to let him in. You watched on the screen as his cock pulsed, thrumming with the need for you, the throb of the shaft. You gasped, almost shocked by the intimacy of it.

‘Such a beautiful cock,’ you gasped, not even really hearing yourself, as Joel chuckled. He pressed forward again, easing himself in and letting you stretch. Your head flopped forward, the searing heat of him almost too much to bear, before you felt him gently grip your hair and raise your head again.

‘Uh-uh, baby, want you watchin’,’ he admonished and you whimpered, nodding your head.

‘I’ll be a…’ you groaned as your cunt clamped down on him, the fluttering waves of want temporarily stealing the words from you. ‘…be your good girl,’ you finished, and you heard Joel groan.

‘Yeah, you fuckin’ will be,’ he grit out, shoving the last few inches in to your greedy little cunt as it grasped him. ‘Be my good fuckin’ girl, watchin’ me fuck ya.’

You whimpered, nodding again, feeling his hand return to your hip as the other slipped underneath you to hold the heft of your tit in his palm, rolling the nipple between his fingertips and sending shivers of pleasure to your core.

On the screen you watched as your cunt swallowed him, your eyes widening at the realisation you had managed to take him all the way in, his balls settling heavy on your folds as he rocked his hips. You watched as he withdrew slightly, his shaft creamy with your slick and you groaned, feeling it clamp down on him, drawing him further into you, not willing to let him slide away.

Joel couldn’t look away, your puffy little cunt split open by his shaft, your slick gathering at your thighs and dripping, sliding over your skin towards the phone between your knees. He made a few experimental thrusts, testing the angle, making sure he wouldn’t move the phone out of the way, before he reared back and stuffed himself into you, feeling the power in it when you gasped, throwing your head back to stare, almost unseeing, at the ceiling above you.

‘Doin’ so good f’me,’ he grunted, leaning down to whisper into your ear, eyes still glued to the screen where he split you open. From this angle he could piston his hips and watch your butt jiggle from the front and your cunt swallow him whole from underneath. He wished he had a camera on your face, on your bouncing tits, wished he could see the fucked out look in your eyes as he fucked up into you, mercilessly chasing your high, and then his.

You were babbling, you were dimly aware, but you had lowered your head again to watch as he fucked you, to watch his rock-hard cock disappear inside you, and you couldn’t keep track of the words as they left your mouth.

‘Fuck, it’s so good,’ you whimpered.

‘So good t’me, baby,’ Joel replied, his breath coming in sharp pants as he felt the throb of his cock, the weight of it hard and throbbing, almost aching, as he sawed into you. ‘Missed this tight little pussy, missed this wet cunt.’

‘Missed…you…’ you whimpered between his harsh thrusts, gripping the phone in one hand and the sheets in the other. ‘Don’t stop, please Joel, don’t stop…’

‘I know baby, I know my sweet girl,’ he babbled, feeling his own release rushing towards him but determined you could get yours first. ‘Takin’ me so good.’

He slipped his hand from your hip and reached around, seeing his fingers appear on the screen as he made tight, fast circles on your clit. He watched as you shuddered, your hips rolling as you squeezed him, your fluttering walls gripping him tight and wet.

‘Look at that…’ he muttered to himself, transfixed by the flex of your cunt as it took his thrusts. He could see your slick, the creamy proof of your pleasure, spread over his shaft.

You cried out, overstimulated but still wanting more, afraid again that the towering wall of pleasure he was hurting towards would be too much, too intense, that it would shatter you somehow. Something was building, something essential and something different to anything you’d ever felt before, and it scared you enough to try to warn him.

‘Joel…’ you tried, words so hard to find behind the blinding frenzy he had you in.

‘You can take it, look how pretty you take it,’ he said as you cried out for him again.

‘It’s too much, I can’t…’ you pleaded.

To your utter devastation, the stroke of his cock stopped. You let out a whine, the sudden absence of his thrusts nearly enough to break you entirely. You heard him chuckle. ‘Y’sure about that, baby?’ he asked, and you shook your head ‘no’, your whole body taught and grasping.

‘No, no, no…’ you gritted out.

‘Want me to keep fuckin’ ya?’ he asked, pretending again that he wasn’t taunting you with his cock buried deep in your cunt.

‘Yes!’ you gasped, nodding your head so hard he worried you’d pull something. ‘Please, m’sorry, please….’ You cried, tears pooling again at your cheeks.

‘Ok, baby, just bein’ mean t’ya,’ he grinned. He resumed his thrusts, at the same brutal pace as before. You crashed, immediately, spasming hard around his cock as you gasped, shocked at the strength of it, the pleasure knocking every thought out of you brain as you spasmed, taking huge lung-fulls of air just to scream them out again.

‘Oh fuck, baby, oh my God…’ Joel gasped behind you, but you were too far gone to really hear him, to respond to him, as your hips rolled, as the heat of your cunt exploded around you, as the pleasure ricocheted up your nervous system and into your addled, overcome brain.

You gathered yourself just enough to raise your head, watching on the screen as Joel’s shaft throbbed, pumping wave after wave of come inside you, watching as it spilt from around his cock and out of your dripping cunt. Listened to his gasps, his throaty moans as his thrusts lost all rhythm, as he pumped you full of his spend, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he shot his load into your waiting cunt.

--

For a long moment, neither of you were able to move. Panting above you, his legs suddenly jelly, Joel only had the presence of mind enough to end the call before he took you by the hips and eased you down, gently to the mattress.

You hovered somewhere between wakefulness and unconsciousness, the gentle throb of your cunt receding as you caught your breath. You felt the bed shift underneath you as Joel moved but you couldn’t lift your head, barely flinching when you felt a warm washcloth dabbed gently at your entrance. You realised you were feeling cold, and you opened your eyes long enough to see the large wet patch underneath you.

‘Baby, did I…?’ you asked but he shushed you, his arms coming presently to pull you into his body as he lifted you up the bed, tucking you under the blankets and sliding in beside you.

You burrowed yourself into him, finding your place beneath his chin as he nestled you in beside him. You drifted, warm in his arms.

‘I like the phone thing,’ you said, the thought coming into your head and leaving your mouth almost simultaneously.

‘Mmm,’ Joel agreed, sleep pulling insistently at his sleeves.

‘Don’t need it, though,’ you affirmed, and you felt Joel nod his head above you. After the last hour he couldn’t remember why he thought you had.

‘Just need you,’ he mumbled, the warmth of your body against him making his muscles go slack.

You both drifted in the weightlessness before sleep.  

‘S’fun though,’ he muttered, to which you could only agree.

[theemporium]

Idk if anything could come from this but it always sticks out to me that it says that luke spends just as much time at cherry's place as his own. Maybe something about them having a domestic kinda day together in her apartment?? 🫶🫶

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

series masterlist

.

“M’gonna have to start charging rent soon.” 

Luke didn’t bother lifting his head from his current spot on the couch, his cheek squished against the throw pillow he had face-planted on a few minutes ago when he arrived. He just let out a noncommittal grunt before realising he should give a proper answer. 

“I can afford it,” he managed to mutter out. 

You let out a snort, shaking your head in amusement as you took in the way he was slumped over the couch. “Of course you can, hockey hot shot.”

“Why are you so far away?” Luke all but whined, lifting his head enough for you to see the frown on his face as he glanced at the distance between you and him. 

“Because I have a list of errands I need to get through,” you retorted, biting back your smile as his frown deepened.

“Five minutes? Please?” 

You sighed but your feet were already moving towards the boy, not getting the chance to do much more before Luke turned over and wound his arms around you with enough momentum to have you laying on top of him. 

“Ooft,” you groaned, laughing a little as you lifted your head. “Happy now?” 

“Mhm,” Luke nodded, his eyes a little hooded with sleep like he was seconds away from dozing off. “You’re a much better cuddle buddy than Jack.”

You hummed. “Is that why you’re here instead of your place?” 

“Maybe,” he murmured, his arms tightening around your waist. “Jack was also trying to rope me into golfing with some of the other guys.” 

“You didn’t wanna go?” You asked, one hand reaching up to push some curls out of his face before you could stop yourself. 

“Not really,” he admitted, his eyes falling shut and a content sigh leaving his lips. “Plus, I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Your lips twitched upwards. “You saw me two days ago.” 

Luke fought back his grin. “Yeah, exactly.” 

You rolled your eyes, not that he could see, before trying to get up. “Well, I desperately need to grocery shop and get some stuff from town so—”

“No,” Luke whined, his arms tightening around you. “You promised me five minutes.” 

“I have stuff to do, Luke.” 

“I’ll help you,” he promised, blinking his eyes open to look at you. “I’ll carry all the bags and not complain once. Just…lay here with me for five minutes.” 

You contemplated his offer. “And you’ll come to IKEA with me?”

“Yup.” 

“And you’ll build my new shelf for me?” You asked, a sweet smile on your lips that he knew better than to trust. But Luke didn’t have much self-preservation when it came to you.

“You can watch me struggle and everything,” he nodded. 

“Hmm, you got yourself a deal, Hughes,” you murmured before settling back down on his chest, your cheek pressed against the fabric of his Devils branded hoodie. 

“Only if we also get those yoghurts I like at the grocery store,” he added, his hands slipping under your hoodie.

You snorted. “Fine, deal.”

.

[metaphorfordeath]

Anti-Psychotic

A person living with schizophrenia finds that their delusions may have more basis in reality than they thought. Originally published in the Fall/Winter II issue of Diet Milk Magazine, available here. Content warnings for depiction of psychosis, violence, ableist language.

No one is watching me.

Julie has me write that down at our session. She never listens to me. She says, it can be comforting to realize that people don’t think of you as much as you think they do. I know this already. She asks, what evidence do you have that you are being watched? I say there isn’t any. Just a feeling. She writes something down, and asks about my meds again. 

So fucking patronizing. Of course I take them. I have taken mine like clockwork, every day, for five years. Maybe I missed a few days, but who doesn’t forget sometimes. My meds are cleat spikes jabbing into the earth. Helping me keep my footing. Making sure I don’t slip.

Last week I started getting the prickle again. Like fingers up my back. Someone standing behind me, breathing. I live alone. When I felt it, I wasn’t scared at first. These things happen sometimes. I’ve been around the block. The prickle and I are old friends, practically. When it finds me, I have ways to forget it. 

I drew the blinds, which helped a bit. I had a drink—nobody's perfect—but the prickle didn’t dull. So I peeked through the shades at the street below. Normal street stuff. The sun was setting, painting the world in shades of fire. Cars went by, all the usuals. Some kids were yelling in a driveway. A wasp tapped at my window, wiggling its feelers at me. No obvious source for the prickle. So, probably nothing. For the rest of the evening I puttered, read my book, ate some frozen nothing heated in the microwave, and took my meds. The prickle was temporary, I told myself as I lay down to sleep, the usual fog settling over me in a cool, clammy layer. No one was watching me. No one ever is.

That was a week ago. It’s only gotten worse since then. The prickle turned into a terrified stomach ache that kept me up for nights and nights. I called in sick to group, told Cheryl the caseworker that I have the flu. She sounded alarmed, but she’s only worried because of what happened to Devin.

Devin was like me: good at meds, good at therapy. We were friends, in a psycho kind of way. A few weeks ago, Devin started to get bad. Stopped showing up to group, didn’t even call. I haven’t seen him in a while, even when I went looking for him in his usual bad places. I miss him. I told Cheryl not to worry. I’m steady, just sick. I’ll see her again soon. 

I keep taking my meds, but they aren’t helping like they should. The fog I count on to sleep is thin, or missing. Something scrabbles at my skin from underneath, and I keep catching myself scratching little bits off of me. When I lay down, a low, neutral voice whispers nonsense at me through the pillow I clamp over my head. I can’t shower; that’s when the prickle gets stronger. Someone standing on the other side of the shower curtain, someone looking down at me through the water stain on the ceiling. I hiss and babble out loud just to hear myself talk, to shut up the voices that aren’t mine. I get sicker by the day.

By now I haven’t been outside in over a week, but my meds are ready to pick up. I don’t want to miss a dose, so I put on shoes and the big jacket that makes me feel safe, and I go outside. Birds leer at me from the tops of buildings. Walking in the opposite direction, an old lady frowns at me.

“Hmph, same to you,” she snaps.

My stomach lurches, but I don’t say anything, just keep walking. I hadn’t spoken. Had I? 

The drug store is brightly lit. It hurts to be inside. Too many things to look at. Faces on packaging look strange now. Confrontational. Interrogative. But at least they look like faces. When I look at anyone real, their features shift. Static snow eats at the air around their heads in a halo. It frightens me, so I keep my eyes on my shoes. The pharmacy tech who’s always there gets the packet for me, rings it up.

“Any questions about your medication?” he asks. I shake my head, pay with a card. He has glasses that give his face a sort of stability, so I look at it. His eyes are brown, beard gray, no hair on his head. He smiles at me. “Have a nice day, miss.”

“You too,” I mutter.

And then I go home, have to stop myself from running for safety. The walk is twenty minutes each way; harrowing, the passing cars huge and hungry, huffing and snorting at me. The prickle is more than a prickle by now. It feels like someone is pulling out the hairs on the back of my neck, one by one. My heart thuds against my ribs so hard that I’m afraid it will burst out, plop on the sidewalk and keep throbbing without me. The paper bag with my pills turns damp and tattered in my sweaty hand. 

And getting home doesn’t even help this time.

Julie says too much TV can be a trigger for me, but I start leaving it on all the time. Noise beats silence, any day. No empty spaces that need filling. I can’t watch sitcoms or anything fictional, so I tune it to the news. The news is always. Steady, real, factual. There’s a story about a body they found by the freeway. Pushed out of a moving car. No one knows or cares who it was. There’s a picture of the scene, taped up yellow and covered in those little numbers that say where a bit of evidence is. A tattered jacket lays in a ditch, dark with blood. 

I stand and race to the bathroom, cool porcelain against my hands, bile and nothing coming up as sweat pours down my back. My head pounds, edges of my vision sparkling. I can only see the jacket. Not dirty or bloody or ruined but the way it used to look. Devin’s jacket.

Something is horribly wrong. Men-in-black wrong. The-end-is-nigh wrong. 

The prickle wasn’t imagination. It was intuition. 

Someone got Devin. Who else did they get before him?

---

The next week, I force myself to go to group. I need to see faces. See who else is there, or not. Cheryl picks me up for these, since I don’t drive. I’m sicker than I can remember being, and try to remember to ask Julie about my dose on Tuesday. I sit silently in the passenger seat, feeling Cheryl’s eyes on me. Caseworkers all have the same eyes.

“Feeling alright today, X?” 

My name isn’t the name she calls me. You don’t need to know it.

“Fine,” I say, pinching my hands between my knees. They shake if I don’t. “Still getting over that flu.”

“Sorry to hear that,” she says. Her sedan has beige fabric seats. The passenger seat is dark, stained with sweat and whatever else from all the people she’s ferried around. A vanilla air freshener dangles from the rear view mirror.

Someone shouts in my ear, so close I feel a little blast of hot breath on my neck, and I flinch. Cheryl looks at me suddenly.

“Everything okay?”

She didn’t hear that. “Yeah. Sorry. Weird itch.”

“Hmm.” 

Group is fine. It’s usually fine. I don’t say much this time, just look around at everyone in their folding chairs. Their faces are wrong. It makes me nauseous to look, but I look anyway. I need to see who isn’t here.

There are no empty chairs, but there are fewer. One or two down from usual. All the other regulars are here, picking at their skin or looking at the clock or chewing their hair. I glance across the room and for a second I think I see Devin, sitting in his old coat. But when I look again, it’s just Tom. I almost hoped.

When it’s over, there’s bad coffee to drink. I suck on a red straw and let the bitter taste anchor me to my tongue. I inhabit my body, touch my fingers to the side of my face to know that it and my fingers exist. Sufficiently convinced of my realness, I go to Amber, our de facto leader.

She’s drinking water from a bottle with cucumber slices in it, cloudy with pulp and seeds. Ectoplasmic. It makes my stomach turn.

“Amber,” I say. My voice feels far away. She looks at me, expectant. “I missed last week. Have you seen Greg, or Mariah?”

“Oh, no, I haven’t. Greg was here last week, but I haven’t seen Mariah since like, last month. Why?”

“Just wondering.”

A crinkle appears between her eyebrows. I focus on that, since the rest of her features won’t stay put. “You’re worried because of what happened to Devin?”

“I think Devin is dead.” There is a sudden hush as other people in my vicinity overhear. “I saw his jacket. On the news.”

Cheryl appears beside me. “X, would you like to talk in the hallway?” 

She pulls me out before I can answer. “Have you been feeling alright?” she asks again. “Taking your medication?”

“Yes,” I say, a little forcefully. She clicks her tongue.

“Really? Because if you need to move up your next appointment, I can make some arrangements for you.”

Despite the fact that I do want to move my appointment up, her tone hits a button in my brain and my face turns red. “No,” I say. “I’ll wait until the next one. I’m fine. I just need to know what’s happening.” A rancid taste creeps up the back of my throat. “Where are people going?”

“Honey, everyone’s here that needs to be here.”

“No—that’s not right. I need to know.” 

I can tell from the way she moves that she thinks I’m getting agitated. She doesn’t understand what I’m saying. “People call in sick sometimes. You did, just last week. Mariah was having issues sticking with the program, so we’re working something out. No one’s gone.”

“Devin is gone. Devin is dead. He’s dead and no one knows it.”

Cheryl comes closer, her voice so low and venomous that it starts to meld with the others. “I’m going to give Dr. Bern a call and try to get you in with her sooner than Tuesday. If you can’t keep up with your regimen, we’ll have to consider another in-patient stay.”

Anger chokes me until my vision goes white. “Okay,” is all I can manage. I have some unsavory thoughts, which I won’t repeat to you now.

“Good,” says Cheryl, holding my leash. “Let’s get you home.”

I don’t sleep. I don’t even try. Someone is watching me. I think about Devin, the last time we spoke before he was gone. He got paranoid, too. He jabbered sometimes, when we would see each other. The same face, he said, with glass eyes. Looking at him. Following him. He said his pills were replaced, his furniture moved, nothing looked the same as he’d left it. No one listens to me, he said. I’m scared, he said. I’m scared of what will happen next.

“I’m scared, too,” I say to no one. A chorus laughs at me. 

---

“So,” says Julie. “Cheryl told me you’ve been having some trouble sticking to your medication.”

“I stick to it,” I say, and set the pill bottle on the desk in front of her. “Count them and tell me I’m not.”

She doesn’t move to count them. I’d hoped at least that she would humor me. “It sounds like some of your persecutory thoughts are returning. Tell me about what you’re worried about.”

“I saw on the news that they found someone’s body in a ditch off the interstate. They showed pictures. I think the body was Devin.”

“Devin from your group?” I nod. “We actually just heard from him last week. His brother answered when we called his phone. Devin is currently in a private rehabilitation clinic in Cincinnati. He’s alright, X.”

A numb feeling falls over me all at once, like a sheet. Something crawls up my thigh and disappears into a deep hole in my flesh. “Oh.”

“Amber talked to us, too. She said you asked her about Greg and Mariah’s absences this week?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I followed up on those for you, too. Greg had an accident at home and was in the emergency room during your meeting time this week. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to reach Mariah personally, but her father informed me over the phone that her family has pulled her out of the program. She won’t be returning.” Julie leans across her desk. “X, can you please look at me?”

I look at her. Her face is twisted, like a mask, papier mâché, drooping strips of plaster bandage. The static threatens to consume her, and me.

“I’m going to increase your dose to eighty milligrams. For now you can take two of what you have at the usual time, but I’m sending in a new prescription to the pharmacy.” She scrawls something on a pad at hand, and I take the opportunity to look away. “I’ll see you again this time next week, okay? And if anything’s the matter, you can call the nurse’s hotline. We’ll take care of you.” She hands me the script. 

“Thank you,” I say, and then someone brings me home. I am silent for the drive. Thinking.

Wasn’t Devin an only child?

I start doubling my dose. The fog doesn’t come. The prickle intensifies into ceaseless paranoia. I check the window locks three times a day to make sure, even though I live on the third floor. Chair under the doorknob, empty bottles stacked on it so I’ll hear if someone comes. I can’t stop thinking about Devin, and the others. Were they all really fine? Was this just a breakthrough-breakdown, pills ceasing their function and leaving me alone, spiraling? 

I hadn’t tried calling Devin in weeks. He didn’t pick up the first few times, and anyone in that state doesn’t usually want to talk anyhow. But Julie said someone answered when they called. Maybe they would answer for me.

The phone buzzes. Surging forward and receding, like a tide. Devin could be there on the other end. Getting better. Being cared for. I close my eyes and wait to hear his voicemail, or something else.

Click. “Hello?”

The voice startles me so much I can’t speak. A stranger.

“Hello?” says the phone. “Who is this?”

“Um,” I say suddenly, “Devin?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the voice says. “Devin isn’t here right now. May I ask who’s calling?”

“I’m—his friend. X,” I clarify. My voice is not of me. “Can I talk to him soon?”

“No, unfortunately he can’t talk. But I’ll let him know you called, he’ll be happy to hear people are checking up on him.”

“What’s—who are you?”

“I’m Eric, Devin’s brother. I’m taking good care of him, miss. Have a nice day.” 

The call ends. Something in my stomach shrivels. I run to the bathroom, but there’s nothing to bring up. I don’t know why that voice scared me so much. Why had I thought Devin was an only child? He hadn’t mentioned his family—maybe I’d just assumed, or forgotten if he’d said. Of course he had a brother. He was alright. They all were, now.

---

Days pass. Bugs make their homes in me. My medication runs out, the new pills ready for pickup. I’d rather die than set foot outside. But I need my stability. I steel myself to leave, and exit my apartment into the world. 

Everyone looks at me. They all want to hurt me. A car drives slowly past me and I try not to look at the people inside. My head hurts. It’s hard to see where I’m going, but I go.

The drug store is bigger than it was last time. Brighter. Angrier. People avoid me as I shuffle towards the pharmacy counter. The pharmacist who’s always there smiles at me again.

“Do you have any questions about your medication?”

I shake my head, fumbling for my card. He’s staring at me through his glasses.

“Do you need me to call someone for you?”

His voice makes me want to puke. I shake my head again, take the pills and make for the door. A crowd of voices shout at me as I stagger out into the air. I miss the way things were. My cleats don’t fit anymore. I tear the bag open, pop the lid off the bottle and shake a pill into my mouth, force it down dry and sticky and hope it does its job. My mouth is sweet where it lingered. It didn’t used to be so sweet.

There is a dull shock of understanding that blooms at the edge of my mind. The prickle rises on the back of my neck, and I look over my shoulder again. The pharmacist is looking at me from his position behind the counter. His face ringed in static. He waves at me. And I take off running.

There is no one I can call. No one who will listen. There are only doors that will slam in my face, white speckle tile and fluorescent lights and needles. He knows that. He knew it for Devin, too. He knew it for the rest of them. The wind in my face feels like fingers grasping at me, tugging at my hair, slowing me down. I race home, up the stairs and lock the door, brace it with furniture and then I sit on the floor and cry and cry. They’re laughing at me. Trading whispers. Look how stupid. Look how gullible. Go on and cry, crybaby. 

So I do. It’s all I have left.

The next time it’s group, I don’t come to the door. Cheryl calls me, but I don’t answer. There will be a wellness check if I don’t come. I want them to, now. When her calls finally stop piling up, I wait fifteen minutes, then step outside. I leave my door open, leave what I can to show that I am gone. I leave the pills out, and the script. Crush a few with my heel for good measure. I hope they can put the pieces together.

It’s dark, cool. It reminds me of the fog, makes me wish I could sleep. Eyes follow me through the evening. Headlights burn me as cars move past. I walk slowly in my big jacket, letting myself be watched. Letting the prickle come up my neck, creep over my scalp, trickle down over my face until it covers me in a thin layer and I prickle all over. The prickle and I are old friends. It tells me when to be afraid.

Then there are headlights at my back that don’t go away. The growl of an engine crashes into me. I stop walking, and someone gets out. I don’t turn to look. I can’t stand to look at faces anymore. Suddenly, I have a funny thought. Maybe I do have some questions about my medication, after all.

Something whistles through the air above my head, and the world disappears.

When I wake up later, I’m not sure if I have. There are stars. It smells like gasoline, copper and dirt. My jacket is gone. My mouth is gone, too. My hands. You’re caught, someone says in my ear, you let it happen. With my eyes, which I still have, I look across the floor. It hurts to look. There’s blood under me, sticky black. The prickle is gone. I discovered its source.

I’m alone for a long time. It’s hard to say how much. I realize that there’s a door behind me when it opens. Light falls across the floor, yellow tractor beam coming to take me away. I long to be weightless, but the earth won’t let me. Then the pharmacist who is always there puts his shoe against my face and turns me over. He doesn’t speak. He crouches down and looks into my eyes like he is trying to take something from me. Then he takes the tape off my mouth.

All I do at first is scream. It's all my body knows how to do. He sits and watches me. When I can see his mouth, it’s smiling, and I realize he likes it when I scream. So as soon as I can, I stop. Silence rushes back into the gaps, roaring in my ears.

“Good girl,” he says when I am quiet. His voice is a distorted growl, infrasound, rattling my eardrums. “Aren’t you such a good girl?”

I think about his throat in my teeth. I think about his blood on my face. For a moment it feels like I am lunging for him, jabbing thumbs into soft and fragile places. But he still has my hands, turning numb and purple at the small of my back. So I sit up as much as I can and spit at the floor near his feet. Faster than my eyes can track, he lurches forward. Fist in my hair, hauling me up to hip height.

He looks into my face with his glass eyes. His mouth is monstrous, all his white teeth sharp in a thicket of gray.

“I’ve been watching you,” he says. 

I know this already. There is nothing satisfying in the confirmation of it. 

He is not the man in black I always pictured. He could be anybody.

“Think of this as a favor I’m doing you.”

Then he hits me again. And other things.

When I’m alone, voices chatter in my ears. No one is coming, they say, you are alone. They will not find you. You and the ditch will be friends soon. So you amounted to this—better than nothing, we suppose. I shush them, rock myself against the cement floor and hum and think about grass, and birds. I try not to leave myself room to cry. I don’t want him to have the satisfaction.

A thousand years go by. Outside the room, there are voices. Not any of mine. His, and others. They start loud, and get quiet. His voice goes away completely. Doors open, distant, then closer. Light falls over my body again, and I feel the weightlessness. Real this time. My hands come back to me, but I can’t move them. There are faces, more than I’ve seen in a while. They scare me, but I can’t run, so I try not to look. Except at his. They take me past him, and I look. Through his glasses I see his eyes, still trying to take something from me. He has, by now. But not what he wanted.

I sleep for a long time, and when I wake up, the world is the way I remember it. My feet on the ground, cleats and all, not slipping. When I’m well enough they bring me to identify Devin’s body, since he didn’t really have a brother after all. They find Mariah’s, too. Greg really was in the emergency room, turns out. But there are others. Too many to think of.

Cheryl changes careers afterwards. Probably for the best. I find this out when she drives me to group the first time after I get out of the hospital. She doesn’t look at me much, but when she does, I can see her eyes are different. Not caseworker eyes anymore.

“Lauren is going to be taking over your case starting next week,” she says after a long silence. “So this will be the last time I see you.” I can tell she’s trying not to cry.

“Okay,” I say. 

She never apologizes. No one does. They all say they’re sorry for what happened to me, but that isn’t the same thing. People who don’t listen never think to apologize for it. They think they were listening all along.

Things are mostly the same as before, except I get my pills mailed to me now. And I think about Devin a lot. When I pour myself a drink, I pour one for him too and pretend he’s with me. I don’t have any pictures, so mostly I think about his voice. The last time we ever spoke, he told me, no one listens to me, X. 

What I said then was, I know the feeling, man.

But now I just tell him I’m sorry.

[sherriievalance]

SUMMARY: Waking up with Justin!

WARNINGS: Second person point of view, established relationship, light kissing, and fluff!

You slowly open your eyes, barely moving as you move your hand around for your phone, it still being somewhat dark outside. As you check the time it reads 6:30. You groan and shut your eyes, attempting to lay comfortably again.

Justin feels you move around, causing him to sit up, rubbing his eyes. “Why are you awake?” He groans, yawning in between his sentence.

You open your eyes again, shaking your head. “I don’t know, it’s six thirty though.” You mumble, laying your head back in your pillow.

Justin nods, lying back down as he wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you close to him.

You hum in response, feeling your body relax fully.

After thirty minutes of you two saying mumbled sentences to each other you decide to fully get up.

You attempt to slither out of Justin’s arms, failing as he tightens his grip.

“Justin,” You slightly whine, automatically giving up. “I need to get up, I have stuff to do.” You say clearer, lightly hitting Justin’s hands.

Justin quick shakes his head, “Like what? It’s still so early.” He huffs, a hint of annoyance in his voice as he yawns.

“It’s seven, it’s not ‘so early’ still. And I need to make breakfast and stuff.” You mumble, failing again as you tried to get out of his arms.

Justin yawns again, finally letting go of you. “What are you going to make?” He mumbles, finally sitting up right, his eyes flickering over you.

You shrug, getting up lazily and slow. “Maybe oatmeal.” You say, yawing as you stand up to stretch.

Justin tilts his head, “Oatmeal?” He laughs, shaking his head.

You roll your eyes, fixing up your side of the bed. “Well I don’t know what else to make, and oatmeal sounds really good right now.” You chirped, a small smile escaping your lips.

“Okay suit yourself, I’ll find something else.” Justin says, getting up also, immediately fixing his hair.

A comfortable silence falls between you two as you both fix the bed, the only sound is of the pillows being pat and the blanket being crinkled.

You make your way into the kitchen, Justin right behind you as he keeps his hands on your hips.

“Justin, let me make my food please.” You whine, leaning back into him as you tilt your head up at him.

Justin lets out a quiet huff, giving you a light kiss as he lets go. “You’re seriously making oatmeal?” He murmurs, leaning back on a kitchen counter as his eyes flicker over your body.

You nod, grabbing out the oats. “Yeah? What’s the problem with oatmeal?” You defend yourself, tilting your head.

Justin shrugs, rubbing his eyes. “Nothing..” He trails off, yawning. “It’s just that there’s so much more stuff you could make, like pancakes or something.” Justin laughs, shaking his head.

You roll your eyes, laughing a little with him. “Mhm pancakes? Oatmeal is actually healthy for you, and you’re a football player. You of all people should know healthiness.” You ramble, getting out the rest of the stuff from out the pantry.

Justin rolls his eyes also, “Well it’s a bye-week right now, so I don’t have to.” He replied, crossing his arms.

You nod, letting out a quiet hum as you start making your oatmeal, pouring in all the ingredients.

A silence falls between you guys again, until Justin slowly makes his way to you, leaning slightly over you to see what you’re doing.

Justin shakes his head, trapping you between both of the counter. “Still can’t believe you’re making oatmeal.” He whispered, his eyes flickering over your face and your concentration.

You look up to him for a few seconds, then looking back to your food. “Well it’s delicious, and it’s good for you.” You say simply, Justin’s body heat radiating off of him onto you.

Justin huffs, moving his hand to his hair as he fixes it again.

Your eyes gaze up to him doing so, seeing his hand get caught in the ends. “You should really get a haircut, even if it’s an inch shorter.” You hum, giggling a little as you turn around to get a better view.

Justin shakes his head, “Nah, I think I’m good for another month then I’ll cut it.” He quickly replied, sneakily moving his hands to your hips. “You know I’m still tired, we should go back to bed.” He quietly hums, slowly pulling you closer to him.

You look up at him, tilting your head as a smile escapes your lips. “You’re still tired?” You said, barely more than a few feet away from him.

Justin nods, bringing his arms around your waist. “Mhm.” He murmurs, his eyes flickering over your face.

i had a cute little idea and i really wanted to post it!! anyways hope you guys like it, i’m currently making a Joe and Paige fic

[hateblackies]

late night talks

"Loves dumb. People get too caught up in it. They forget who they are chasing that feeling," a young Gojo Satoru said, twirling a pen carelessly in his hand as he sat in his study chair, looking into your eyes through the reflection of the window. When he saw you weren’t replying, he continued.

“People die. What then? Chase after the void they left? Yeah, right," he scoffed. It perturbed you despite the gravity of the words he was saying, he seemed so brash.. so eager, and so careless.

"Love is natural," you said, holding a pillow close to your chest as you sat on his bedside. Satoru turned his chair, watching you snuggle up to the pillow. He rolled his eyes, then looked back in the direction of the window, with a pout that was meant as humor.

"What..?" you said quietly, your eyebrows furrowing, clutching the pillow harder. He turned his head over the headrest and smirked at you “You’re hugging that pillow as if it were your lifeline.”

He leaned back, propping himself up with his hands behind his head. “That thing isn’t going to love you back, you know...” he snickered. “Oh, shut up!” you said in annoyance, throwing the pillow at him from across the room now.

He caught it with one hand, his eyes narrowing. “Oh wow, you’re really mad, huh?” he teased. His lips tugged into a smirk, and he raised his eyebrows. “Someone’s jealous of a pillow?” he asked dramatically, now holding the pillow close to his chest himself.

As much as she wanted to leave his room, she couldn’t bring herself to. She stayed sat on his bed, arms now crossed. She was silent for some time. “If there was no love, we’d all be empty, soulless people,” she whispered beneath her breath. Satoru hated the gushiness.

“If there was no love, there would be no pain,” he countered, still staring at you with soft eyes and an amused look. Satoru wasn’t trying to start an argument at all; he just wanted to see how she would respond.

Her eyes widened. Her breath got stuck in her throat with his sharp words. “That’s.. not true.” He furrowed his eyebrows in curiosity at her response.

“How is it not? How could someone suffer the pains of loving someone so much you can’t see them leave-” He was caught off guard by being interrupted.

“I won’t leave,” she blurted out, suddenly clasping her hands over her mouth at her words, her face reddened. He tilted his head, confused and amused at your sudden outburst.

“Eh?” he said, smirking. He kept his gaze on you expectantly, and raised a brow. He was a dumb teenager. He didn’t understand girls.

She dug her head into her hands now looking down, not saying another word. He was silent for some time. Probably thinking about Pokémon, or something.. by now.

“Why… why aren’t you saying anything?” she said softly, eyes now peeking over her arms, observing him. “Hm? What am I supposed to say?” he asked, keeping a straight face.

She huffed. Maybe an ‘I won’t leave you either’? she thought, but heck, she knew he wouldn’t commit to that. “You’re trying to be a smart ass.” She said.

He laughed, this time genuinely. “Am I?” he said with a cocky undertone.“Besides. Did you seriously expect me to say something mushy like ‘I’ll be with you forever’ type of thing?”

“Especially not to you…” he said with a cheeky grin. His statement was half-true and half-sarcastic; It’s just what he did, but he was serious in a sense; he wasn’t the type of person who would just go around saying romantic stuff. He liked to show rather than say when it came to things like love. And besides, he wasn’t the type to be able to commit to such a thing. He was Gojo Satoru.

“Maybe.. I did.” She said softly, trying to hide her evident frustration in him as she propped herself off his bed, taking steps toward the door.

He stared at her in utter amusement. He crossed his legs and watched her walking toward the door. “Aww, Going already?” he said as he heard the door shut closed, He thought they were having a good time; her leaving was a little surprising to him, despite the way he’s acting. Oh well.

“hm. girls are weird.”

[cilliansmesoftly]

worst way

pairing: riley green x fem!reader

summary: riley needs you after a long month of tour and missing you

warnings: smut!, pining, yearning, breaking stuff, multiple rounds, etc.

wc: 4.4k

tonight was the night riley was coming home. after a month long of not seeing each other, well besides facetime. he couldn’t wait another minute. tour was long. and it isn’t even over, he just has a few weeks before he’s out on the road again and he intended to spend every minute of his time off with his girl. his y/n.

he could picture her now.. standing in the kitchen, or maybe even the living room, comfy clothes on with her favorite show playing on the television. she’d be chewing on her bottom lip, no doubt leaving cherry red imprints from the pressure, just itching to be back in his arms.

at least, he was itching to be back in hers. he didn’t know what had gotten into him. on the ride from the airport, his sweatpants had been doing no good hiding the excitement he was feeling. to shield from even more humiliation, he took his carry-on bag and held it in front of the growing need. his hands were sweaty and he kept pushing his hair back with his hands, a nervous habit he’d picked up since growing it out.

why was he so nervous?

it’s not like you haven’t been together for about a year now, and friends longer than that. but, god, he was feeling like a teenager going on a first date.

the ride was shorter than riley anticipated, and he could feel his heartbeat in his throat as he got out the truck and hauled his bags and guitar case up the steps to the farmhouse he got built a couple years back.

home never felt so good.

and he knew it would feel even better once he got y/n back in his grasp.

however, when he opened the front door, no television was on, no sounds were heard, and no beautiful woman was standing there waiting for him. he sighed, setting down his bags in the middle of the room and fishing his phone out of his pocket.

he clicked y/n’s contact and brought his phone up to his ear.

ring…. ring…

he was starting to get worried. did she meet someone while he was away? no, she’d never do that. maybe she’s out getting some groceries, because god knows what was left in the fridge from the time he left to now. right as his heart rate picked back up, he heard a click and then her gorgeous voice through the speakers.

“hey, baby.” she said softly. “what’s up?”

“hi, honey. well, i came home expecting you to tackle me to the ground and shower me with love and kisses like you normally do, but there’s not a soul here.” he walked to his bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. it was made, but he could tell where her pretty little head had been laying on his pillow.

“oh, shit. i’m so, so sorry. i went to pick up some food for us. you’re a little earlier than what i was planning for.” she sighed into the phone, he heard a car door shut and then an engine ignited. “i’m on my way back now, though. i’ll be home in, like, 10 minutes?”

“okay, baby. i can’t wait to see you.” riley had a small smile glued to his face, a blush coating his cheeks all the way down to his tanned chest. “be careful, i love you.”

“i love you, more. bye.” he could hear the shy grin in her voice and he could feel his heart clench at the sound.

he figured he could kill some time by taking a quick shower and washing off all the dirty airport germs off of him. so, he stood to his sore feet and grudged into the bathroom. he stripped himself of his sweatshirt, then his sneakers and sweatpants. he looked at himself in the mirror while the shower water ran. he’d worked out a lot during the times he wasn’t performing, just out of boredom and partly because he hated being in that cramped bus for 10, maybe even more, hours a day.

as he stepped into the shower, he let the water run down his face and back, washing off his worries and stress down the drain along with it. he was so happy to be home. so happy to have a break. and so happy he was about 7 minutes away from being with his best girl again.

y/n walked into the house with bags of takeout in her hands. she huffed as she tripped over riley’s bags in the room.

“riley?” she called through the house, setting the bags onto the counter. when she didn’t hear a response from anything but water running and humming, she knew exactly where to go. she tiptoed into the bathroom and started to take off her clothes. she could see riley’s silhouette through the white curtain hung up and even from that, her body ached for him. she quietly pulled back the curtain, he was facing away from her, so she slid her hands around his body. from his back to his torso, she ran her fingers all over the soft, tan skin. he jumped at first, but quickly turned around and gripped her cheeks in his hands.

“hi, baby.” she smiled up at him. he had shaved his beard into just a mustache and she could feel her stomach flutter at the dirty thoughts running through her mind. she pictured that mustache on her lips, kissing her wildly and so loving that her mouth would be bruised. she pictured that mustache kissing down her body, going between her legs and loving on her like she hadn’t felt in so long.

she was broken out of her fantasy by riley’s lips capturing hers in a searing kiss. the bathroom was filled with hot fog and was suffocating her lungs, but that kiss allowed her to take a deep breath that she hadn’t been able to catch since he’d left.

riley laughed as she squealed when he picked her up so her legs would wrap around his torso. his cock was already hard at the thought of having her right then. against the cold tiles of the shower. “my girl.” he breathed into her neck once they had broken the kiss. “you don’t know how much i missed you.”

“don’t i?” she was scratching the back of his head with one hand and clinging onto his back with the other. riley groaned into her skin as she pulled his hair gently. “take me to bed.”

he didn’t have to be told twice. he shut the water off and stepped out onto the cool floor. he laid y/n down gently on the bed and leaned back, captivated by the sight of her. her hair, a little wet from stray water droplets, was splayed behind her head onto the sheets. her body was tanned from the summer sun, no doubt taking advantage of the deck out back.

“see something you like? just take it.” she kicked her feet up to place them on his chest as she giggled. she admired his body, too. strong arms with veins running all the way down to his forearms and hands. tanned chest with a thin gold chain dangling from his neck. his body was work of god.

“don’t threaten me with a good time, honey.” riley grabbed her ankles and kissed each leg before leaning down against her. her skin against his felt like heaven. this was better than what he imagined. he pushed the hair against her forehead away, taking in every part, every detail of her face. it was an intimate moment, one that neither of them took for granted. it’s like they were falling back in love all over again.

“you seriously have no idea how much i missed you, riley green.” y/n sighed, brushing a hand through his hair. he grabbed her hand and kissed her palm, melting into her touch.

“how much did you miss me?” he was already panting, trembling even. y/n was so turned on she could barely stand it she kept trying to rub her legs together to ease some of the ache, but riley kept his hands on the inside of her thighs with a such a firm grip that she couldn’t move a muscle.

“enough to call you every night and listen to your voice. pretend it was your fingers all over me, making me wet, playing with me.” riley groaned, laying his head down on her chest. his wet hair was cold and it sent a shock through her, but it did wonders to cool down her blazing skin. “did you touch yourself to me?” she asked into his ear.

“‘course i did, baby. couldn’t go through a single day without you there with me. don’t matter if it was through a screen.” he kissed her chest, sucking a dark mark onto her skin. she moaned softly and it caused riley to ground his hips into hers, the head of his hard cock hitting her clit just right. “god, baby. gonna fuck you on every square inch of this house tonight.”

“please,” she whimpered, closing her legs tighter around his body, trying to bring him closer to her.

“we got all the time in the world.” he leaned back and cupped her cheek in his hand. she cuddled into his touch with a pout on her face. “let me take my time with you tonight, honey.”

she nodded softly, leaning up to catch his lips with hers. he slid his tongue over her lower lip, begging for entrance and when she granted it, he stifled a moan into her mouth. she tasted like strawberries and heaven. he couldn’t get enough of this girl. he moved his mouth down to her cheek, over her chin, down to her neck where he sucked another tattoo kiss onto her skin, left to be purple and bruised tomorrow. he brought his mouth to her nipple and she jumped at the sensation, she hadn’t been touched in so long. he licked around the bud before sucking it into his mouth and releasing it with a soft pop.

“you’re gonna be the death of me.” she whined into her hand. her hips were restlessly trying to gain friction from anything they could reach. riley sat down on his knees and hooked his arms around the back of her legs. she gasped as he dragged her to the edge of the bed. her thighs were trembling as he kissed the inside of them, breathing her in as he did. y/n felt the facial hair on his upper lip tickling her skin. he was driving her crazy. she hadn't seen this man in a month. he didn't do anything extravagant, he didn't bring home flowers, he didn't bring wine. he just wanted her.

she was broken out of her thoughts by the feeling of his tongue licking a straight line up her core. she gasped and her hips jumped off the bed. riley shook his head against her, his nose brushing her clit back and forth as he did so, and laid his muscled arm over her hips to hold her still.

"you're so sweet, honey." he moaned against her. the vibrations made her throw her head back against the mattress, eyes rolling to the back of her head. she bit her lip as he sucked her bundle of nerves into his mouth, his fingers finding their way to her entrance. he spread her arousal with his thick digits, licking off what was left. "mmm." he prodded at her entrance again, just barely entering before pulling them back out. he was teasing her and it was torture.

"riley, please." she breathed out, panting. she lifted her head up just so she could catch his gaze and that shit-eating grin he wore made her groan and throw herself back against the bed.

"please, what, sweetheart?" he smirked. he knew what she wanted, he just wanted to hear her say it.

"just fuck me, please." she whined. he smacked her thigh and she hissed.

"that's all you had to say." he smiled, kissing her clit and the inside of her thighs sweetly before leaning up and capturing her lips with his. y/n hummed into it, taking a grip of his hair and pulling slightly. he groaned, reaching down to stroke his cock a few times before lining it up with her pretty pussy. he looked back at her eyes, her mouth open and panting, her cheeks rosy and flustered. she was so beautiful. even when she wasn't trying to be. he was suddenly taken back to the first day they met. sophomore year of college and he thought she was the most breathtaking thing at jacksonville state.

"what's going on in that handsome head of yours." y/n huffed, pushing a stray hair behind his ear.

"i just love you." he shook his head, grabbing her hand and kissing her wrist. "so much."

"you have me for the rest of your life, riley. you are the most precious thing i have." she leaned up to kiss him, slow and passionate. "i love you."

he pushed into her, moaning loudly from how tightly she enveloped him. she sucked a breath in through her teeth, the stretch was delicious and what made it even sweeter was riley leaning his forehead down onto hers, locking those deep blue irises onto her e/c ones. he slowly started to thrust into her. the tamed patch of hair below his stomach was brushing against her bud of nerves and she bit her lip to contain the graphic noises begging, screaming, to be released. she could feel the imprint of him in her stomach and she grabbed his hand and placed it on the point so he could feel it. riley whimpered and thrust harder into her.

"god, yes." she yelled out, wrapping her ankles around his back to keep him close to her. her nails were raking down his back, no doubt leaving red marks in their wake. "harder."

riley quickly obliged, hiking her leg up around his waist further to hit an angle he hadn't before that had y/n moaning almost pornographically. "you have no idea how much i missed this pussy, sweetheart."

"you have no idea how much i missed this cock." she retorted, turning her head to the side so she could kiss his stubbly cheek. she pushed his head to her chest and he could hear her wild heartbeat. he could hear her whimpers right in his ear and he wished he had something to record this so he could cherish it forever. his hips picked up speed in their ruts against her. he felt like a mad-man. he was touch starved for too long and so, so wrapped up in her. she might as well be tattooed against his skull from how much he thinks about her.

his thrusts were so forceful, the framed picture above his bed frame was hitting the wall repeatedly and eventually just fell back behind the bed. they could hear the glass shattering, but they could care less. riley picked y/n up and turned her around so she was sitting on her hands and knees. she laid her head down onto the soft sheets, arching her back softly so her ass was in better view. he rubbed the soft skin soothingly before smacking it lightly. y/n giggled and then groaned when he pushed into her again. his had one leg on the floor and the other was propped up and bent. his hands were wrapped around both of her hips and he pulled her back against his cock. he was hitting so deep inside of her and y/n could feel the coil inside of her tightening even more. riley was no better than her, he could usually last a while, but, because of the prolonged distance, his tummy was fluttering and his cock was twitching relentlessly. his body was begging for a release.

"y/n." he whimpered, his pounding thrusts against her were getting sloppy and he reached around her to toy with her clit.

"oh, i know, baby. me too." she was breathless, her knuckles were white from gripping the sheets so hard and she was sure she would have bruises all over her backside tomorrow from how rough he was pushing into her. "cum inside of me. please, please." she begged. she wanted all of him, she was so close she had tears in her eyes.

"oh, my." he threw his head back before leaning down against her back. he kissed all over her neck, her shoulders. his fingers were still rubbing circles onto her clit and her body was collapsing beneath her. "i'm gonna cum, honey." he thrust a few more times, working her clit harshly. she was screaming his name, a thin sheen of sweat coating both of their bodies. the coil in her belly snapped quickly at one particularly hard thrust and she curled into herself while riley was milking her for everything she had. a few more thrusts and riley was completely undone. he released into her, pushing his cum into her further before laying down against her back. she turned her head so she could kiss his lips. "i love you. i love you." he muttered against her skin.

"i love you." she kissed the top of his head. riley leaned up and pulled out slowly, watching the mix of their climaxes leak from her core and onto the duvet. "i broke home takeout."

-

they sat at the island in the kitchen, ravishing their food like two starving cavemen. she got riley and her some burgers from his favorite spot in town. they laughed and shared fries with each other. they fed each other like an annoying couple they would've made fun of back in college.

"do you think we would've been friends in high school?" she wondered, taking a sip of her cold busch light. riley brought his lips to his drink, too. one thing he loved about her is that she actually enjoyed drinking beer, maybe even more than he did.

"absolutely not," he wiped his mouth with a napkin. "i was a little shit in high school."

"you were a little shit in college, too." she giggled, pushing his shoulder. they were just sitting in their underwear, but nothing had ever felt more comfortable. more like home.

"i was worse in high school. ask momma." he laughed. "got cops called on me one time for poppin' fireworks in my principal's yard."

"riley green!" her jaw-dropped. "and to think, the worst thing you did in college was get kicked out of a bar for fightin' a guy."

"he was hittin' on you. had to do somethin'." he shrugged, smiling while taking a bite of another fry.

"you didn't even like me like that back then... did you?" she side-eyed him suggestively.

"baby, i've liked you since we first met at the gym." he slipped his hand up her leg, rubbing her thigh with his calloused fingers. rough partly from years of playing guitar and partly from the hard work he's done in his life. "when you didn't know how to work the equipment, i was hooked on you."

"oh, ew!" she scrunched up her nose. "i was wearing stained sweatpants and an old lynyrd skynyrd shirt."

"hence my attraction." he breathed out a laugh, his fingertips still rubbing over her skin. she clutched her hand to his and brought it up to her lips, kissing his the pad of his fingers.

"why didn't you tell me?" she asked softly, placing his hand against her cheek. it was warm and she leaned into his touch.

"thought you were out of my league, to be honest." he rubbed his thumb across her cheekbone, tracing her freckles from the warm alabama sun. "i thought you were the prettiest thing i'd ever seen and i didn't wanna embarrass myself by askin' you out, so i figured being friends was a good way to keep you in my life."

she fell into a fit of giggles and riley scoffed with a smile on his face, pulling back from her. "yeah, laugh at my misery. it's fine." he went to stand, but she pulled him back down, trying to calm herself.

"no, it's not that! i swear!" she bit down on her lip to contain more laughter. "that first day," she took a breath. "i fell in love with you, too."

"pft, nah." he stood up, collecting their food wrappers and walked to the trash can to throw it away.

"pft, yeah!" she stood up, too. she watched as he washed his hands and he shook his head. "you don't believe me? you were starting quarterback and completely jacked, might i add. plus, you helped me with gym equipment without making me feel stupid. i texted mom about you that very night."

"you serious?" he braced his hands on either side of the sink and she couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the veins running down his arms, she licked her lips and looked back up at him, nodding. "alright," he threw his arms up in surrender. "i believe you."

"so that means we wasted.... what?" she started counting up the months.

"at least 10 months." he finished her thought for her and she brought her hands up to her face. she could've been with him from the very first moment they met, but they both thought too lowly of themselves to make a move.

"riley, that's awful." she groaned through her hands. he laughed and walked up to her, pulling her hands away from her face and wrapping them around his body. he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her lips sweetly.

"we got all of our lives to make up for that time, baby." he mumbled against her. she moved her hands up to wrap around the back of his neck. his fingertips tickled down her sides before picking her up and sitting her on the counter top. he laid her down gently and kissed down her neck, all the way to her navel. she brought him back up to her and captured his lips with her own, licking over his bottom lip. he opened his mouth further and their tongues danced together, even though they tasted like their dinner, they couldn't care less.

"make love to me." she whispered against his lips. he let his hands trail around her body before moving behind her back and unclasping her bra in one swift move. he bowed his head to kiss around her breasts, then down to her belly. he traced the hem of her panties, blue and lacy, his favorite. he pulled them down her legs, his fingers causing goosebumps to raise on her legs and follow the path he took down to her ankles. he threw the undergarments somewhere towards the living room and kissed his way back up to her lips. he kissed her lips and pulled his boxers down his thighs, letting them drop and pool around his feet. he grabbed the back of her thighs and slowly dragged her further to the edge of the counter. she leaned up to slowly stroke his cock. he leaned his head back in pleasure and she kissed the open space of his neck, licking around the stubbly skin. he lifted his head back up and kissed her sensually. this was a different kiss. it was passionate, but it was more like a promise. a promise of 'i'm yours'.

she lined his cock up with her entrance and he pushed into her slowly, laying her back down flat against the cool marble counter. his thrusts were slow, but rough. he left his branding kisses on her neck and chest. their moans were soft and intimate, a low, but intense sound of pure adoration and infatuation. y/n stretched her arms out behind her head, accidentally knocking off the decorative wooden bowl in the middle of the island. "sorry." she whispered.

"ain't worried 'bout nothing but you." he responded, his face tucked into her neck and his cock working wonders on her. she was already close. she was so full of love, so full of him. she wanted to cry, she loved him so much. and he was thinking the same because he whispered in her ear, "i love you."

"i love you so much, ri." she whined. she felt his cock twitch inside of her, but she wanted him to hold out. she wanted this feeling to last so much longer than it could. "don't cum yet." she breathed out, brushing through his hair with her fingers. "wanna feel you."

"yes ma'am." he kissed underneath the lobe of her ear and she shuddered, trying to prolong her peak. he slowed down even more and y/n could feel every vein, every curve of his cock. they felt like puzzle pieces, perfectly made for each other. the way he pulled out just to push roughly back in was driving her mad, it was getting harder to hold back. "cum for me, sweetheart. know you need to. can feel you squeezin' 'round me."

she whimpered softly and all he had to do was reach down to circle her clit and she was done for. her climax hit like no other had and she was clenching around him so tightly that riley came right after she did, kissing all over her face, her neck, and chest.

"we're makin' a mess of this house." she laughed as she looked at the mess of clothes around the floors, the bowl spilled out onto the hardwood, not to mention the fact that they had to pull the bed out from the wall sometime to clean the glass up from the picture frame.

"y'know i'm gonna have to write a song 'bout this." he chuckled and she rolled her eyes. "even though they're all about you already." he kissed her cheek and she blushed.

"let's keep it that way, baby." she kissed his lips then hopped down from the counter, brushing her body up against his. she leaned down to pick up her bra, pushing herself onto his pelvic bone with a grin on her face.

he grunted and she leaned back up, but he grabbed her arm before she could walk away. he caught her lips with his and picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder. she shrieked and kicked her legs, trying to get him to put her down. she was in a fit of laughter by the time he tossed her onto the couch. "i still want you in the worst way, darlin'. you ain't getting away from me for the rest of the night."

note:

hey everyone! i know this is different from what i usually post (aka austin butler ahaha) but i noticed on tiktok that riley green usually gets a lot of attention from all the clips of his concerts, but there's hardly any content of him on tumblr, wattpad, etc. so if you don't know who this is, he's a singer. i went to his concert recently and just completely fell back in love with him, so i wanted to write for him! if you enjoyed the idea, you can totally picture someone else for the role of riley. if you want more of riley, let me know! and do your research on him because this man is something else oooh lord

[chaosandcandies]

UNPLUGGED

CHAPTER Ⅶ: Dormageddon

trope: fem!9th skz member warnings: angst, drama, insecure oc, cyber bullying, slow burn pairings: hyunjinxfem!oc prev|next

The dorm was a warzone.

Jeongin darted across the living room, frantically gathering stray water bottles and shoving them into a recycling bag. Chan wiped down the kitchen counters like he was scrubbing out a crime scene. Minho vacuumed with murderous determination, dragging the machine across the floor as Seungmin and Han argued over whether or not the couch cushions needed to be thrown into the washing machine.

Hyunjin, barefoot and half-dead, silently wiped the windows with a haunted expression — like his soul had long since left his body.

They were cleaning like their lives depended on it.

Because, in a way, they did.

Iseul was moving in today.

And none of them wanted to be the reason she took one look at the dorm and immediately asked to move out.

“She’s late,” Jeongin huffed, stuffing another empty chip bag into the trash. “Why is she late?”

“Maybe she chickened out,” Han muttered, aggressively fluffing a pillow.

Minho paused. “Can we blame her?”

Hyunjin stopped wiping. “Maybe she decided we weren’t worth it.”

Seungmin glanced up. “Maybe she died.”

They all froze.

Chan sighed, rubbing his face. “We need to get out of the dorm more.”

The front door finally creaked open.

And Iseul stepped inside.

She hovered awkwardly in the doorway, cradling a duffel bag, a suitcase, and... a cello case.

The boys stared at her.

And then at her luggage.

“That’s it?” Chan blinked. “That’s... all you brought?”

Iseul shifted her grip on the cello strap, her ears burning. “I don’t have a lot of stuff...”

Han squinted. “The cello takes up half your things.”

“Yeah. It’s my priority.”

“Fair enough.”

Minho shut off the vacuum, dragging it to the side. “Why were you late?”

Iseul deflated. “My mom.”

Jeongin’s eyes widened. “Your mom?”

“She wanted to make sure I packed properly,” Iseul muttered, stepping inside. “And then she cried. And then she made me swear not to die. And then she cried again. And then she made me promise to call her every night—”

Seungmin snorted. “Is she okay?”

“No.”

The tension snapped in half.

Hyunjin smothered a laugh behind his hand. Jeongin giggled. And the rest of the boys slowly started to relax — shoulders dropping as the pressure dissolved into something almost normal.

Almost.

Because Iseul saw the way their gazes flicked toward her bags.

Saw how cramped the living room felt with her things piled up by the door.

She felt guilt curdle in her chest like sour milk.

They’d done so much already — cleaned the dorm, rearranged their rooms, added a bunk bed to the three-bed room, and cleared the smallest bedroom for her.

And now she was here.

Taking up space.

Making everything harder for them.

She swallowed, trying to ignore the knot in her throat.

“Since you guys cleaned so much,” she started, tugging at her sleeve, “how about I make dinner?”

The reaction was immediate.

Jeongin lit up. “Really?”

“I’ll help,” Seungmin added, casually pushing Jeongin toward the kitchen. “You can be her assistant.”

“I’m not her assistant—”

“You are now.”

The two of them bickered all the way to the fridge.

Iseul stood at the counter, sleeves rolled up, staring at the mountain of ingredients the boys had shoved at her like it was a boss fight. She chewed her lip, feeling the weight of their effort to make space for her in the dorm. Guilt gnawed at her chest. They’d added a bunk bed to an already cramped room, cleared out their smallest bedroom for her, and scrubbed the place like they were expecting a military inspection.

The least she could do was feed them.

“Okay,” she muttered, tying her hair up. “Let’s do this.”

“I’ll help!” Jeongin popped up beside her like a golden retriever, already rolling up his sleeves. “I can cut veggies!”

Seungmin leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “You can barely cut paper.”

Jeongin scowled. “I can too!”

“Prove it.” Seungmin handed him a carrot and a knife with the air of a judge watching a defendant plead their case.

Jeongin gripped the knife with pure determination. He made one dramatic, calculated slice — and the carrot promptly shot off the cutting board, skidding across the counter like a hockey puck.

Seungmin burst out laughing.

“I’m TRYING!” Jeongin yelped, scrambling to catch the runaway carrot.

Iseul snorted, covering her mouth. “Okay, okay — let me show you.” She gently adjusted Jeongin’s grip on the knife, her voice patient. “Hold it like this. And curl your fingers so you don’t accidentally chop them off.”

“I wouldn’t chop them off,” Jeongin said, pouting.

“You’d just, what, mildly maim yourself?” Seungmin deadpanned.

Jeongin threw a piece of carrot at him.

Iseul shook her head, but a small smile tugged at her lips. It was... nice. Familiar, even. The way Jeongin clung to her like an eager younger brother, and the way Seungmin’s teasing had this quiet warmth to it, like he wasn’t really being mean — just pulling her into their rhythm.

“Are you sure you know how to cook?” Seungmin squinted at her as she started seasoning the meat.

“Just start chopping the onions, Seungmin,” Iseul said, handing him a knife without looking.

Seungmin blinked at it. “This feels like child labor.”

“You’re older than Jeongin,” she deadpanned.

“Emotionally, no,” Seungmin muttered, but he started chopping anyway.

Jeongin, meanwhile, handled the rice like he was solving a Rubik’s cube, painstakingly measuring everything. His tongue stuck out a little in concentration, and Iseul had to bite back a laugh.

“You’re really careful,” she noted, stirring the soup.

“I don’t wanna mess up,” he admitted, glancing at her. “You’re cooking for everyone, and I don’t want them to be mad if it sucks.”

Iseul’s chest pinched.

“They wouldn’t be mad,” she said softly. “And... even if they were, I’d tell them off.”

Jeongin blinked, then beamed so brightly she almost had to look away.

Seungmin, stirring the soup with the absolute confidence of someone who loved to provoke, didn’t even glance up. “Wow. Our knight in shining armor. Remind me to call you if a fly breaks into the dorm.”

Jeongin nearly dropped the plate he was drying. “Hyung!”

The bickering continued like background noise as she cooked, Jeongin flailing while Seungmin casually tossed insults like confetti. And somehow, despite the chaos, everything started coming together.

The soup simmered.

Jeongin cut vegetables while sneakily stealing bites, yelping whenever Iseul caught him. Seungmin expertly handled the seasoning, pausing only to deliver backhanded compliments that made her want to throw the ladle at his head.

“Not bad,” he mused, tasting the broth. “I expected worse.”

Iseul narrowed her eyes. “I’m adding extra spice just for you.”

“Aw,” he smirked. “You do care.”

Jeongin snorted, nearly slicing his finger off.

By the time they started plating the food, Iseul realized she was actually... smiling.

Seungmin wiped his hands on a towel, glancing at the perfectly simmered soup like he personally deserved a Michelin star. “Dinner’s ready,” he called out, voice echoing through the dorm like a battle horn.

From the living room, chaos erupted like they hadn't eaten in weeks.

“DINNER?!” Han practically toppled over the couch.

Felix vaulted the coffee table with zero hesitation.

Hyunjin nearly face-planted trying to rip off his hoodie.

“They act like we don’t feed them,” Seungmin muttered, shaking his head as he lifted the soup pot.

Iseul bit back a laugh, balancing a plate in each hand as she and Jeongin set up the table. Jeongin, ever the helpful one, carefully placed chopsticks and napkins, sticking his tongue out as he concentrated on getting the spacing just right.

“Why are you lining them up like we’re in a restaurant?” Iseul asked, stacking bowls.

Jeongin flushed, adjusting the napkins like he was solving a puzzle. “It looks nice, noona.”

Iseul dropped a plate.

Jeongin froze like he’d been caught committing a crime. “I— I didn’t mean to say that —”

Iseul bent down to grab the plate, but her hands shook so badly she nearly dropped it again. Her brain blue-screened.

Noona.

He called her noona.

He called her noona in front of everyone.

From the kitchen doorway, Seungmin wheezed, barely holding back laughter. “Oh, that’s cute,” he said, voice dripping with malicious glee.

The universe collapsed.

Han slammed his hands on the table like he was hosting a reality show. “Wait, wait, wait,” he gasped, pointing dramatically at Jeongin. “He called her what?”

“Noona,” Seungmin chirped, pure evil in human form.

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO,” Jeongin wailed, his voice breaking like a shattered vase.

Hyunjin, frozen in place, stared at Iseul like he’d discovered a glitch in the matrix. “You... let him call you that?” he asked, his tone unreadable.

Iseul didn’t respond. She couldn’t respond. Her brain was melting. She just stood there, gripping the plate so tightly her knuckles turned white, heart pounding so loudly she swore the others could hear it.

“Noona,” Felix whispered, eyes twinkling. “That’s so cute.”

“I’m leaving,” Iseul muttered, already planning her escape route.

“YOU CAN’T ESCAPE IT,” Han yelled, arms outstretched like some kind of cult leader. “YOU’RE HIS NOONA NOW.”

Jeongin slid down to the floor like his legs had given out. “This is the worst day of my life,” he groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

Seungmin, who had clearly been waiting for this moment his entire existence, crouched next to Jeongin and patted his back like a fake-supportive friend. “It’s okay, baby bread,” he cooed. “Your noona will protect you.”

Jeongin threw a napkin at his face.

“Why do you even call her that?” Changbin asked, folding his arms with a grin that screamed he was enjoying this way too much. “I mean, she’s closer to your age, right?”

“I—I don’t know,” Jeongin stammered. “She just... gives noona vibes?”

Iseul nearly dropped the plate again.

“Noona vibes?” Hyunjin repeated, his voice sharp enough to cut glass.

Jeongin buried his face in his hands. “You cook, and you scold us, and you make sure we eat... you feel like a noona!”

Iseul’s soul physically left her body.

“Guys, I think she’s going to cry,” Han whispered, leaning closer to her face like he was inspecting a wild animal.

“I’m quitting,” she mumbled into her hands. “I’m packing my bags and going to live in the practice room.”

Jeongin looked devastated. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable —”

“She’s not uncomfortable,” Seungmin interrupted, voice sugary sweet. “She’s just malfunctioning. It happens when her noona programming gets activated.”

Seungmin barely had time to react before Iseul launched herself across the kitchen.

“YOU’RE DEAD!” she screeched, knocking over a chair as she tackled him with the force of a small hurricane.

Seungmin hit the floor with a thud, laughter echoing through the dorm as she pinned him down, her knees digging into his sides.

“I yield, I yield!” he wheezed, tears streaming down his face. “I can’t breathe!”

“That’s the point!” Iseul growled, shaking him by the collar like a cartoon villain.

The boys exploded.

“YES, GET HIM!” Han cheered, pounding the table.

“WORLD STAR!” Changbin yelled, holding up his phone like he was filming a fight for the internet.

“Seungmin, you brought this on yourself,” Felix snorted, not even bothering to help him.

“I regret nothing,” Seungmin choked out, grinning like the little menace he was.

Lee Know, arms crossed and smirking, watched the chaos unfold like a proud father. “I knew she had it in her,” he said, nodding in approval. “Finally putting Seungmin in his place.”

“This isn’t putting him in his place, this is a murder attempt,” Chan groaned, scrambling over to try and pry Iseul off Seungmin.

“Save me! She is a bloody monster!” Seungmin gasped from beneath Iseul, face red from laughing.

“I’m not saving you, I’m saving the dinner table!” Chan yelped, dodging Iseul’s flailing arm as she fought to keep Seungmin pinned. “Iseul, come on, get off him!”

“I’ll get off when he apologizes!” she snapped, wrangling Seungmin like a wrestler in a death match.

“For what?” Seungmin coughed, barely able to breathe through his grin.

“EXISTING,” she hissed, shaking him harder.

Lee Know leaned back against the counter, utterly delighted. “This is the best day of my life,” he said, voice dripping with amusement.

“Minho, help me!” Chan begged, half-laughing, half-panicked as he tried to lift Iseul by the waist.

“Why would I stop this?” Minho tilted his head, watching Chan struggle like it was a live comedy show. “She’s thriving.”

“She’s committing a felony,” Chan cried, dodging another swipe of her hand. “Someone help me!”

Hyunjin, still hovering awkwardly near the table, hesitated. He glanced between Iseul’s wild, feral expression and the way Chan was one slip away from being collateral damage.

His chest tightened — partly out of concern, partly out of something he didn’t want to name.

He hated that Seungmin got to tease her so easily. Hated that Jeongin got to call her noona first.

Hated that he cared so much.

Hated that he found her when she was mad. But maybe a little too cute.

Hyunjin cursed under his breath and scrambled forward, grabbing Iseul by her shoulders. “Okay, okay, let him live!” he yelped, digging his heels into the floor as he helped Chan haul her back.

It felt like trying to tame a feral cat.

“You little —” Iseul kicked wildly, limbs flailing as the two boys dragged her like she was some kind of rogue beast.

Seungmin, instead of being terrified, just lay on the ground laughing his lungs out.

“This is the best day of my life,” he wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Why are you like this?” Chan demanded, face twisted in betrayal.

“WHY AM I LIKE THIS?” Iseul screeched, flailing harder. “HE’S BEEN TAUNTING ME FOR HOURS —”

“LET HIM DIE,” Han cheered from the couch, voice muffled against a pillow.

Hyunjin, out of breath, managed to sit Iseul down on the floor, keeping her in place with both hands on her shoulders.

“Breathe,” he huffed, chest heaving.

Iseul glared at him, fists clenched, practically vibrating with leftover aggression.

Hyunjin should’ve been terrified.

Instead, his brain short-circuited again.

Because she was looking directly at him — eyes fierce, cheeks flushed, lips parted as she tried to catch her breath.

He swallowed hard, pulse stammering.

"...Please don't kill us," he muttered, voice shaky. “You're kinda cute when you're mad, but, like... terrifying.”

Iseul’s brain exploded.

Hyunjin immediately wanted to rip his own throat out.

Chan went rigid. His eyes, wide with disbelief, snapped to Hyunjin like a predator locking onto its prey.

“What,” Chan said, voice unnervingly calm, “did you just say?”

Hyunjin, who looked like he wanted to dig a hole and die in it, tried to backpedal. “I—I didn’t mean it like that!” he stammered, still gripping Iseul’s shoulders. “I just — I —”

“YOU THINK SHE’S CUTE?!” Han roared, flinging a pillow across the room.

Felix was cackling so hard he rolled onto the floor, tears streaming down his face. “NO WAY,” he wheezed, pounding the floor with his fist.

Jeongin, face buried in his hands, screamed into his palms like he was witnessing a crime.

Meanwhile, Iseul just sat there. Unmoving. Unblinking.

Absolutely fried.

Her entire body locked up, like her soul had fled to a different dimension.

“C-cute?” she whispered, voice so quiet it was almost a glitch in the universe. Her entire face exploded in red.

Hyunjin, realizing the chaos he had unleashed, panicked. “I DIDN’T MEAN TO SAY IT OUT LOUD,” he blurted, voice pitching so high it cracked.

Chan lunged forward, grabbing Hyunjin by the collar. “THE AIR FRYER,” he hissed like a man possessed. “I’M THROWING YOU IN HEADFIRST.”

“I’LL PREHEAT IT,” Lee Know called, already walking to the kitchen with a casual strut.

“MINHO, NO!” Hyunjin screeched, flailing as Chan dragged him toward the kitchen like a man on a mission.

Seungmin, still sprawled on the floor, barely conscious from laughing. “Tell my family I love them,” he rasped.

“I CAN’T LIVE HERE ANYMORE,” Iseul finally exploded, clutching her face as her entire body curled in on itself. “I NEED TO QUIT. I NEED TO MOVE TO ANOTHER COUNTRY.”

Jeongin, clutching his stomach, almost toppled over. “I CALLED HER NOONA AND LIVED — BUT HYUNJIN CALLED HER CUTE AND DIED.”

Hyunjin, bright red and struggling against Chan’s grip, tried to salvage what little was left of his dignity. “I WAS JUST TRYING TO STOP HER FROM COMMITTING MURDER,” he howled.

“BY FLIRTING WITH HER?!” Han screeched, clutching a pillow like he was witnessing the scandal of the century.

Chan, eyes burning with big brother fury, shoved Hyunjin into a kitchen chair. “SIT DOWN,” he ordered, voice low and deadly. “You are not allowed to speak for the rest of the night.”

Hyunjin, face still burning, sulked like a scolded puppy.

Lee Know wandered back in, biting into a rice cracker. “Pity,” he said, chewing thoughtfully. “I was actually gonna turn on the air fryer.”

“STOP,” Hyunjin whined, burying his face in his hands.

Iseul, still melting into a puddle of embarrassment, finally peeked through her fingers. She glared at Hyunjin with the weakest, most half-hearted death stare imaginable.

“You’re lucky I’m too tired to kill you,” she muttered.

Hyunjin peeked at her through his fingers — and immediately turned even redder.

The boys, seeing his reaction, lost it all over again.

Felix almost choked on his laughter. Han was crying. Seungmin lay on the floor like a casualty of war.

And Chan? Chan slumped against the counter, staring at the ceiling like he was questioning every life decision that led to this moment.

“I need a vacation,” he whispered to himself.

Lee Know clapped him on the back. “Or a bigger air fryer.”

The conversation eventually shifted.

The initial explosion of chaos faded into background noise as the boys fell back into their usual rhythm — tossing jokes across the table, piling extra food onto each other’s plates, and slipping into the easy, natural dynamic they’d built over years of living and working together.

Iseul tried to keep up.

She really did.

But the longer they talked, the quieter she became.

It wasn’t intentional — no one was deliberately ignoring her. But the boys moved so fast, with overlapping stories and inside jokes, that she felt like she was running after a train she could never catch.

They’d start reminiscing about something that happened on tour.

Or talk about an old trainee memory.

Or bicker about a game they played last week.

And Iseul just... sat there.

Smiling when they laughed. Nodding like she understood.

She laughed along, even when she didn’t know what was funny.

She twirled her chopsticks between her fingers, pretending to focus on her food, while her heart slowly sank into her stomach.

This is what she was interrupting.

This is what she was intruding on.

It was one thing to know the boys were uncomfortable with her presence. It was another to see — to feel — just how tight-knit they were without her.

They had a bond she couldn’t break into, no matter how hard she tried.

And maybe she shouldn’t try.

Maybe she shouldn’t even be here.

She stabbed at her rice, her appetite fading, guilt crawling up her throat like thorns.

Jeongin called her noona.

And she’d nearly passed out like an idiot.

The boys were bending over backward to make space for her.

And she was making it harder for them.

They had to clean the dorm for her. Rearrange their rooms. Sacrifice their privacy.

And for what?

For her to sit there in awkward silence, drowning in self-pity?

Iseul pushed her bowl away.

“Um,” she started, voice barely loud enough to cut through the chatter. “I’ll wash up first. You guys can... take your time.”

The words spilled out before she could stop them.

The boys immediately protested — voices overlapping in a flurry of concern:

“You barely ate—” “We’ll do the dishes, don’t worry—” “Are you feeling sick?”

She forced a smile. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”

Chan frowned, his brows knitting together. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, her throat too tight to speak.

Hyunjin’s gaze flicked toward her.

But he didn’t say anything.

And Iseul didn’t wait for him to.

She slipped away from the table, her chest aching, and shut the bathroom door behind her like it could physically block out the noise of their laughter.

The shower steamed up the mirror as she stood under the scalding water, her head pressed against the tile.

She hated this feeling.

By the time she got out, her hair clung to her skin, her eyes were swollen, and she was exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with her body as shuffled into her most comfortable pajamas without thinking — the bright green dinosaur ones with a cartoon tail on the back.

The dorm was dim, the only light flickering from the TV screen.

The boys had migrated to the living room — sprawled across couches, tangled in blankets, half-asleep as a random variety show played in the background.

Iseul hesitated.

She lingered in the hallway, heart pounding, not wanting to intrude.

Not wanting to disrupt whatever fragile peace they’d finally settled into.

But Seungmin caught her.

He twisted around on the floor, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Look who survived the shower,” he drawled, eyes gleaming. “Did you have an emotional breakdown in there?”

Iseul froze.

Her pulse skyrocketed.

She scrambled to mask the panic on her face — to laugh it off, even as her chest clenched like he’d reached in and grabbed her heart.

Seungmin didn’t know.

Of course he didn’t know.

He was just teasing her.

He didn’t realize he was right.

“I was just washing my hair,” she mumbled, rubbing at her arms. “I… didn’t want to interrupt.”

“You’re not interrupting.”

Iseul startled.

Hyunjin sat cross-legged on the couch, leaning against the armrest, one hand propping up his face.

His voice was quiet. Gentler than she expected.

He looked tired. Or maybe he always looked like that now.

But the second he actually saw her — standing there in damp hair and dinosaur pajamas — he malfunctioned.

Iseul, still toweling off her hair, stood in the dim hallway — her eyes big and unsure, damp strands of hair clinging to her flushed face.

Hyunjin nearly choked on his own breath. His heart lurched, and for a split second, he forgot how to function as a human being.

Why was she cute?

Why was she cute when she looked like she’d been emotionally obliterated in the shower?

Why was he noticing this??

He scrambled to do something, fingers blindly fumbling through the grocery bag next to him.

Without thinking, he yanked a yogurt cup from the grocery bag beside him and — panicking beyond belief — flung it at her like she was a wild animal.

“Here!” he blurted, voice cracking like glass.

Iseul caught the yogurt, eyes wide.

Hyunjin blushed violently.

What the hell was he doing? Why did he do that?? Why was he short-circuiting over pajamas??

He turned back to the TV with the stiffest posture in human history.

“Uh — you... like those,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Seungmin cackled. Immediately.

Hyunjin wanted to burst into flames.

Iseul clutched the yogurt to her chest like it was a life preserver, her entire face glowing red.

She didn’t know what to say.

Didn’t know how to tell Hyunjin that the stupid snack had saved her.

So, instead of speaking, she quietly sank onto the floor, legs folding beneath her.

She stayed.

The boys resumed their bickering.

The show flickered on, the room filled with noise again.

Hyunjin peeked at her out of the corner of his eye.

His chest squeezed.

Because she was smiling.

Just barely.

But she was smiling.

And somehow, that was enough.

TAGLIST: @leewritesstuff, @athens-09xx, @allenajade-ite, @idjdndjzbsdm, @idjdndjzbsdm, @hyuneskkam, @geni-627, @valkirymin, @miminbin, @tillaboo

STORY HINT: Iseul's mom came from a well established family and was originally a law student. But she had to quit law school as she got pregnant with Iseul and married her dad. Iseul's grandparents weren't happy with the situation (or their son-in-law) but they still stayed and helped her mom. They also made sure that Iseul was provided with top notch education and training.

Uk the original draft was more angsty than this. Like I didnt include Iseul's mom or dad, only in passing and there was no comic relief. But I'm honestly quite happy with this version. Anywhoo, don't be a ghost! Leave likes and comments!! Reblogging helps a ton too Stay safe!!! ~Candy

[danikamariewrites]

Also I thought of a Liam or Xaden idea but maybe one of them falling for a Healer?

Always Injured

Liam Mairi x reader

A/n: since we don’t fully know a lot of the medical stuff in FW I just kinda made some stuff up lol

Warnings: mentions of injuries, fluff

For the third time this week Xaden was escorting Liam to the infirmary. He rolled his eyes at the blondes wide grin. “You’ve never been so…reckless before. What’s going one?”

Liam shook his head, keeping his eyes on the swinging double doors as they got closer and closer. “Nothing. Challenges have been so tough, right?” Xaden gives him a quizzical look, not believing Liam is having a hard time getting through obstacle courses.

He shoulders open the door while supporting Liam, walking him over to the closest bed. Liam lays back looking around the room for you. His eyes find you listening to your teacher intently as he tends to a ill-looking scribe.

“Ok brother, you are free to go.” Xaden follows Liam’s line of sight. Xaden let’s out a long oh and sends Liam a shut eating grin. He knew there would be teasing later but he didn’t care.

“Get better soon.” Xaden says in a light teasing tone as he exits the infirmary.

-

You saw Xaden bring Liam in. You wanted to go right over to him but you knew your professor would chastise you for leaving a working-lesson. So you stayed with the sick scribe. She just needed cold medicine but learning all kind of symptoms is important.

Once you professor dismissed you to check on other patients you headed straight to Liam’s bed. You gave him a small smile as he held his left wrist out for you to take his pulse.

By now he knew the routine. Liam had been in here practically every other day. “Should you really be a rider? The amount of injuries you get I might as well tie pillows around you.” You joke with him.

Liam let’s out a small laugh as your hands kept checking different parts of his body. When you pressed on his side he winced.

Pulling up his shirt revealed a nasty bruise on his ribs. Grabbing a salve from a nearby cart you scoop out some paste, warming it between your fingers before spreading it on his skin.

“That should help with the pain.” You say quietly. Over Liam’s many trips/stays in the infirmary you grew to deeply care for him. He’s a sweet guy and was always interested in whatever you had to say.

“Thank you,” he groaned out pulling his shirt back down. “That one looks bad Liam. You need to be more careful. I’d hate to see you truly injured.” You say gravely, crossing your arms.

Liam reaches out to pull your hand into his. He gives it a light squeeze and give you a boyish grin. “Don’t worry about me sweets. I’ll be just fine.” You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, well your visits say something different.”

You give his hand one last squeeze before turning to walk away. Liam holds on tighter, slightly pulling you back to the edge of the bed. “Wait, please don’t go yet?”

Plopping yourself on the edge of his bed you narrow your eyes at him. Giving him a knowing smirk like you just figured out his secret. “Not all your injuries have been real.” You say matter of factly.

Liam’s face turns crimson and he looks down avoiding your gaze. “Well, uhh not all of them. Maybe like a headache or two.” He mumbles.

“Any reason?” You tease, poking at his thigh. You desperately wanted to say he has a crush on you too. If he does you would much rather spend time with him outside of this room.

He looks up at you, suddenly shy like he’s speaking to you about a very awkward medical matter. “I keep coming back for you. You’re amazing and I didn’t know how to talk to you, but now I do and I want to get to know you more outside of here.”

You grasp Liam’s hand in yours, taking him by surprise. “I do too Li.” His eyes go wide with joy. “Meet me tonight? At the Bell Tower?” You nod enthusiastically.

He lets out a sigh of relief as you stand. “I have to check in other patients.” You say quietly. Liam nods giving you that boyish grin again. “I’ll see you tonight.”

[katerinasas]

you 🩰

coriolanus snow x fem!reader

in which coriolanus snows wife cannot sleep without him.

the red LED clock on the dresser of the Snow’s shared bedroom read 2:04 am. the first lady of panem tossed and turned, her favorite silk nightgown suddenly uncomfortable and her soft hair itchy.

she’d been trying to find any sort of sleep for four hours and yet no matter how exhausted she was, she knew she’d never find it until she had her husband.

she slipped out of the bed, putting on her baby pink slippers and her robe over her shoulders. “it’s okay,” she whispered to their cat who gave a small meow. she pet her head gently, “stay here.”

the bedroom door creaked open and she shut it behind her. the house was dark with warm lamps sporadically lighting the way as her feet padded down the long hallway and downstairs to coriolanus’s office.

his head hung over papers, a hand holding up his head lazily. his once perfectly gelled hair was now messy and ran through, hanging down in his eyes. his tortoise glasses slipped down his nose and a small sigh fell from his lips as he scribbled something down with a gold ballpoint pen.

“coryo?” called his wife softly, making her way across the room.

his head shot up, his most energetic movement in hours. “you should be in bed,” he said, leaning back in his chair. she stood beside him and his arm snaked around her waist, his other hand rubbing her hip as he leaned over to kiss her stomach. “what d’ya need, baby?”

she sighed, holding the back of his head. “you.” he looked up at her with a smirk earning him a smack on the back of the head. “not like that.”

he frowned before pulling away from her. “this is important, sweetheart. you need to sleep, i’ll be there in an hour or so.”

“coryo,” she whined, kneeling at the side of his chair, too tired to stand.

his hand held the side of her face, thumb rubbing her cheek. coriolanus pressed a firm kiss to his wife’s head, attempting to fight the urge to pick her up and go to sleep with her. “i’m sorry, this stuff- it’s all urgent.”

“what is it? maybe i can help?”

“no,” he said shaking his head, “nothing for you to be concerned about.” a deep frown sat on his face. “want me to come tuck you in?”

she shook her head. “i want you to come to bed.” her hand sat over his, pleading with him. “your work isn’t going to grow legs and run away. it will still be here tomorrow, i promise.”

“so will you,” he said in attempt to make a joke but she was all too tired for it. she quirked an eyebrow at him, pulling a sheepish ‘sorry’ from him.

“c’mon,” she whispered, standing from her crouched position. “you need a break,” she pressed a kiss to his head, “and rest,” she pressed another to above his ear, “and cuddles i’m sure,” another to his neck. “and i can’t sleep without you. so please?” she asked as a final attempt.

coriolanus sat silent a moment before pushing the chair back. “alright, baby.” he stood up, towering over her before picking her up bridal style. her face buried itself in the crook of his neck as he carried her, shutting off lights as they went.

he laid her in the middle of their bed, the california king she’d insisted on getting. he pulled the covers over her before taking off his shoes and placing them in the closet how she liked, undoing the buttons on his shirt and taking his pants off before putting them away.

he shut off the big light before crawling in next to her, wrapping his big arms around her. “love you,” he murmured into her soft hair.

“i love you, too,” and the pair fell asleep with tangled limbs and their cat sleeping above their heads on the same pillow.

—

2nd post today #grind😛😛

[beargirlmj]

Between Teases and Silences.

genre : fluff

warning(s) : none

Author's note: Nerdy Jimin is the cutest thing to me.

It was a Sunday afternoon like any other. Y/n was lying on her bed, the soft light of the setting sun seeping through the window blinds. The constant sound of Yoo Jimin talking about Minecraft, math, and other nerdy stuff reached her ears through the phone, which was propped up on the pillow beside her.

Jimin had always been like this — a total nerd. She excelled in every subject at school but always seemed a bit out of place, especially compared to Y/n, who was popular and always surrounded by friends. Though Jimin was shy and somewhat lonely, she always found solace in Y/n, following her through the school halls or starting long conversations about her interests.

This time, they were on a video call, and Jimin was enthusiastically explaining some new mechanic in Minecraft. She was talking excitedly about redstone, movement timing, and other things that Y/n was listening to half-heartedly. y/n’s popularity wasn’t just due to her looks or charm but also her patience with others. Her friendship with Jimin was proof of that. Although they didn’t share the same interests, there was a special bond between them.

As Jimin rambled on, y/n, resting her face in her hand with a faint smile, watched her friend. Jimin’s glasses were slipping down her nose as she explained some mathematical concept related to the game, her eyes gleaming behind the lenses, completely immersed in what she was saying.

Suddenly, an idea popped into y/n’s mind — a teasing, playful idea. Her smile widened, and before she could stop herself, she said in a mischievous tone:

"Shut up, Jimin, or I’ll come over to your house and shut you up with a kiss."

There was a sudden silence on the other end of the line. Y/n’s words caught Jimin completely off guard. Her eyes widened behind her glasses, and she froze in the middle of her explanation about Minecraft pistons. The nerdy, focused expression on Jimin’s face was replaced by a deep blush that crept up from her cheeks to her ears, turning her into a living tomato.

"W-what?" Jimin stammered, trying to process what she’d just heard. "Y-you’re joking, right?" She tried to laugh nervously, but the embarrassment in her voice was unmistakable.

Y/n chuckled softly on the other end. This had been way more fun than she’d expected. Seeing Jimin all flustered and unsure of how to respond was a rare sight. Usually, the nerdy girl always had an answer ready, but now she was utterly speechless.

"And what if I’m not joking?" Y/n continued to tease, her voice lower, carrying a hint of mystery and mischief. "You’re always saying you like challenges, Jimin. Maybe I should challenge you to shut me up before I come over."

Jimin’s face turned an even deeper shade of red, if that was even possible. She nervously adjusted her glasses, trying to appear composed, but y/n’s mischievous smile was still on the screen, and she couldn’t look away. Jimin’s heart was racing as if she was in a race against time.

"I-I..." Jimin started, but her mind was in complete chaos. "This is just a joke," she kept telling herself, but the thought of y/n suddenly showing up at her door sent butterflies through her stomach like she’d never felt before.

On the other end, Y/n watched it all with a mix of amusement and curiosity. She knew she was messing with Jimin’s head, and part of her loved it. Of course, it was just a joke — or maybe it wasn’t? Their relationship had always been like this: full of teasing, laughter, but with something more underneath, something Y/n had never really stopped to think about. Until now.

"I... I’ll shut up, then," Jimin finally said, glancing away from the camera, trying to somehow escape the situation.

Y/n smiled, victorious.

"Good choice, Jimin," she said with a soft laugh. "But who knows, maybe one day I’ll show up at your door just to make sure..."

And with that, the conversation shifted back to normal, as if nothing had happened. But for Jimin, something had changed. She couldn’t get that sentence out of her head, and Y/n’s playful smile stayed with her for the rest of the night.

[ryiju-muunie]

He’s into it!

18+ viewer discretion is advised

Fem!reader/Ryomen Sukuna Warnings: established relationship, furry!reader, reader is a furry, reader is into super pink frilly Sanrio stuff, Sukuna is a whipped simp, Sukuna and Yuji are brothers mentioned, fluff, mainly fluff with a treat at the end, grinding, dry humping, pet names (pup & puppy), aftercare Word count: 1644 DESC: Ryomen Sukuna hater of mullets lover of furries

This was originally a Drabble but I got carried away! I kinda wanna make this a series, should I?

Link to my Ko-fi if you want to support me!

Requests and ASKS are open!!!

Ryomen Sukuna would never admit it to you, but he likes it when you wear those ears and paws. It was a shameless hobby you had, dressing up like that for your Instagram. It was innocent but perfect. He loved how the paws were lightly colored and oversized, making you seem smaller. Then how the ears were the same.

You looked perfect. It was perfect! But… while it was all innocent and cute he couldn’t help but feel a deep and brooding feeling reside in his chest. God, it turned him on. The way you pranced around with your phone in public, taking photos with strangers if they asked. How your eyes lit up at conventions you dragged him to, forcing him to look at all the different paws and suits. Ryomen would of course pretend it was the worst thing on her, gaffing and rolling his eyes.

And then when you weren’t looking, he’d palm the fur of a pair of ears in his hand just because he loved the fluff. He had a habit of staring at cute things. Maybe that’s why he liked you. Even though he was the total opposite, with his big black tattoos and semi-shaved haircut. You two looked -acted- completely different. Yet he liked that. You could rant to him about some drama in your community and he’d just listen. Sure he didn’t understand all of it but he just wanted to keep you happy. Not to mention he just loved looking at you like that. Pouting pink lips and fluffy pink ears. Especially the clipped ones with bows and bells.

There was a point where it was becoming too much for him. He was seated on your light-colored bed, hugging a pillow to his chest as you hummed. You were changing into something he was told he wasn’t allowed to look at until you were done. Of course, he grumbled a curse and gave you a pointed look before doing exactly as you said. He caught small glimpses, something pink and frilly of course. God, he just wanted to rip it off of your curved body and fuck you senseless.

Ryomen had a habit of staring at cute things, yes, but he had a worse habit of staring at plump skin. So when he saw you, chubby and completely adorned in the cutest clothing he’d ever seen, he needed you. It was a weird thing, so weird his younger brother liked to tease him over.

“The girl's 5’4 and she’s got you completely whipped, Ryo!” Yuji would chortle, throwing his head back before receiving a coke can to the gut.

“Shut up, brat,” Ryomen retorted, rolling his eyes as always. He didn’t admit the hold you had on him to anyone else but you if you asked him. He’d just shrug and say something like “I please my woman” which was Ryomen Sukuna for “Please marry me I’m in love with you if you leave me I’ll kill myself”.

“Ryomen,” you murmured, turning on your white socks to show your outfit. My god. He was completely done for. There was no way he was going to recover from seeing you in that! Hell, it wasn’t even revealing but it was cute. It was fucking cute. And that’s what got him!

It was a ruffled pink dress, with a ribbon cinching it just below your breasts, letting the rest of the dress flow out. It came down quite low, about your knees. Then some white stockings to cover the rest. By itself it was fine. But you paired it with your favorite ears, paws, and now a fucking tail. Ryomen swallowed and blinked a few times. He had to keep the dress intact, he had to keep the dress in TACT.

Your face fell after a moment of no answer from your boyfriend. A pout formed over your bottom lip, shining in the glowing light with a hint of sparkle. New lipgloss. He looked down at his pants, groaning at the sight of his bulge. Of course, he was solid just from a look.

“Is it really that bad?” You frowned, crossing your arms. Oh don’t do that, he thought as his eyes glanced to your slightly exposed cleavage. You were torturing him in a way you never had before, and you were completely oblivious!

Ryomen muttered your name and hissed, rolling on his side and huffing to sit on the edge of the bed. He motioned his big arm in your direction, beckoning you to come over to him. You nodded and slowly crept towards your boyfriend. At that point, you had to have seen his boner, right?

“You look nice,” he whispered, wrapping one of his big hands around your waist. His other tapped your leg, signaling he wanted you on him. Even if this turned into nothing more than a wholesome interaction, he wanted you to touch him in some way, shape, or form.

“I thought you didn’t like it,” you sighed and sat down. Your eyes widened when his tent pressed against the front of your crotch, “Oh.”

“I like it,” he grumbled, “I think I like it a hell of a lot more than I should. Is that weird?” He looked at your face, which was flushed a deep pink. A small frown pulled at his bottom lip and he used his free hand to poke at the apple of your cheek, “Don’t just stare at me, woman.”

You gave him a small warning look and he quickly corrected himself, “Don’t just stare at me … princess.”

“Everyone has their fetishes. I didn’t know you liked the furry thing like that,” you spoke delicately, with a tiny smile. Clearly, you weren’t weirded out by his admission of guilt. Ryomen nodded and leaned forward, resting his head against your collarbone.

“Don’t think about teasing me in front of the brat,” he mumbled against your skin, wrapping two meaty arms around your back.

You giggled and let one hand trail up his own back to his pink hair, “I won’t. It’s kind of hot that you like it anyway…” He knew the exact expression you were making even if he didn’t see you. It was the far-away look, with an almost innocent stare. It wasn’t really innocent though. That’s why it drove him mad. You could see the sexuality burning behind your eyes as you bit down on your lip. It made him insane with lust.

“Hot huh?” He sat up, looking up at you with narrowed eyes, “I didn’t bring any condoms.” Ryomen didn’t want to admit it but he had an idea that would keep your perfect outfit on without getting ruined, not get you pregnant, and get him off. One of his hands slid down your side and up your skirt to touch along your thigh, “Grind your pussy on my bulge, puppy.”

You nodded and bit down on your swollen lip again, putting both hands on your back to remove your dress. His other hand instinctively grabbed yours and stopped you, “No. Keep it on.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Oh… okay.”

The two of you found yourselves back against the bed. Ryomen laid on his back as you ground your soaked clothed cunt against his precum-stained shorts. His hands were planted on your hips, rocking them back and forth to get the job done. He leaned his head back against one of your sanity pillows, hoping he wouldn’t cum yet. You felt so good he just needed this to last a few seconds longer. Even though he couldn’t be inside you, he didn’t need to be. Just seeing your face and how it contorted in pleasure was enough for him. You moaned like a goddess, thrusting into him for your pleasure.

“F..fuck pup. You’re driving me mad with- with that damn... mmm those ears.. f-f..uck,” he had never been so foggy.

It had to have been the outfit. Your naked body was beautiful but that’s all he’d ever fucked. He’d never fucked you decorated in all this cute stuff. God, it got him so close. He was just throbbing from the impending euphoria. Then he heard you whimper and it was all over. Your sounds got louder and louder, filling his ears with your pleasure. You placed both hands against his own, pressing your wetness further against his cock. It drove him over the edge and he gasped as a load shot out of his swollen tip. Ryomen had never cum that way, continuing to rub your cunt against him to elongate his high.

You bit your lip at the sensation, cumming a few moments later from seeing your boyfriend lose control. Even though, as he came down from his high, he felt sticky and gross, Ryomen wouldn’t have changed a thing. Seeing you in that pretty outfit grind against him made him so hot and bothered beyond belief. It was better than any penetration he could’ve asked for.

“I love you,” he whispered, pushing you down beside him. You nodded and fell forward against the bed, mumbling your own I love you as well. Ryomen Sukuna kicked off his now very soggy shorts and underwear, opting for a commando-style dress, taking off his shirt as well. You glanced at him and yawned as he sat down next to you, beginning to undo your outfit. “Ryomen…?” You mumbled in a bit of confusion.

“Let me do this, brat- er… my love,” he wasn’t very good at these sorts of pet names unless he was about to cum, it was clear. You were undressed in a few moments and pressed against your boyfriend's chest. He knew you liked this sort of thing. Aftercare? Ryomen wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but he knew it was important.

Making you happy was the most important thing in the world to him.

[moonstruckme]

Hello my love! I have a request for a quick little blurby with whoever you think it fits! Basically, the reader has an extensive skin care routine, but she’s sick so all she wants to do is lay bed, but the beautiful man is helping her do it because he knows how much it means to her! Am I projecting? Yes because I’m sick as a dog right now and I didn’t do my skin care routine at all but I just didn’t have the energy to 🥺💕

Hi honey! Hope you're feeling a bit better <3

This isn’t very relaxing lmao apologies, he’s doing his best. And maybe modern au? Because I didn’t feel like researching 80s skincare

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 814 words

“Shit,” Eddie hisses when you wince, pulling the washcloth away to kiss your eyelid. “Keep ‘em shut tight, baby, we don’t want this stuff getting in there.” 

“They are shut.” Your face pinches as he continues to scrub at your lashes with the washcloth. “I’m just not usually this rough with them, Eds. You’re going to tear out my eyelashes.” 

“Doing this?” He sounds dubious. “They can’t be very hardy, then.” 

“They’re not.” 

“Okay, okay.” He swipes the last of your mascara off a bit more delicately. “I can’t believe you went to work like this. I told you you were way too sick to go.” 

“I was fine this morning.” 

“You almost passed out pouring your cereal.” 

You open your eyes to stare him down, daring him with your whole face to push you. You’re way too exhausted for this. “I’m calling in tomorrow, okay?” 

“You bet you are, trouble.” 

You open your mouth to snipe at him, but Eddie swoops in for a kiss as he finishes with your makeup remover and you sink back into the mattress, nullified.

“What’s next?” he asks sweetly. “That watery shit?” 

“Toner, yeah. Thanks.” 

He makes a sound like you’re welcome, a bit of cheek to it. You decide it’s probably deserved, since you keep disparaging him while he’s doing you a favor. 

Eddie wets your washcloth with toner, passing it over your skin before reaching for your serum. You close your eyes as he brings the dropper just underneath them, like he’s seen you do a million times, and dribbles the glossy liquid onto your skin. He’s quick to chase it with his fingers, murmuring expletives under his breath as some of it drips onto your pillow before he can get it. You laugh, and he pinches your cheek meanly. 

“Stay still, or I’ll get it in your mouth.” 

You quickly smooth your face into expressionlessness, your poker face immaculate, and then Eddie laughs too. You open your eyes at the sound. 

Eddie’s eyes hover above yours, lashes kissing as he grins toothily. A few frizzy curls have escaped the ponytail he’s confined the rest in. They tickle your cheeks when he moves, using his finger to distribute some of the serum onto your chin. 

“You got it all over?” you ask him. Softly, like his proximity requires a hushed tone. 

Eddie's thumb digs into your chin fondly, his smile broadening. You can see his canines. “Yup. You’re all shined up, sweet thing. How long do you leave it for again?” 

“Until it dries.” 

“And how long’s that?” 

You shrug. “Ten, fifteen minutes. It doesn’t have to be all the way dry, just mostly.” 

He nods. You listen to the passing of cars outside, the beginnings of crickets as darkness falls. Eddie starts sweeping his thumb back and forth over your shoulder. 

“You look so fucking pretty,” he says quietly, “even though I know you’re the plague personified right now. How do you do that?” 

Try as you might to tamp it down, you can’t help the smile that spreads across your features. “Every night when you go to sleep,” you tell him, “I take a little bit of your hair and use it to brew a potion in the kitchen. I’m slowly stealing your beauty, bit by bit.” 

“Fucking knew it,” he growls, dipping his head to nip playfully at your neck. 

You yelp and set your hands on his shoulders, warning him breathlessly about getting his hair in your serum. 

“Fine,” he relents. “I know you’re full of shit anyway. You’ve been this killer since the day I met you.” He flashes a grin, canines and all. “And I only get more beautiful with time, so I know you’re not siphoning it off me. Nice try.” 

“You’ve got me there.” You smile back, but it’s a half-hearted effort. 

Eddie makes a low humming sound, thumb once again rubbing your shoulder. “You okay, baby? Your chest still hurting?” 

“No, it’s not as bad.” The words leave you in a thoughtless sigh, and Eddie frowns, bending over to press a chaste kiss to your sternum. The sweet gesture pushes up against the pressure already thick and uncomfortable in the back of your throat. “I’m just really tired,” you admit, and to your mortification the words come out with a teary edge. 

Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, only a flicker of concern passing over his face as his hand moves to cup the side of your head, stroking the baby hairs at your temple. 

“Hey, that’s okay. You can go to sleep, I’ll finish up here. S’just the moisturizer left, right?” You nod, swallowing, and he mirrors you. “I can handle that. Get some shut eye, sweet thing. I’ll take care of you.” 

You let your eyes close, the steady movement of Eddie’s thumb on your temple easing you towards slumber, because you know he will.