#the best work that MADE writing has run-on sentences out the ass

[jewishbarbies]

lit agents telling authors how to write for publication:

[intromortal]

OLDER!ENHYPEN OT6 HEADCANONS PART 2.

part 1

⚠︎ nsfw, mdni. daddy/sir/master kink, age gaps (every party in this is an ADULT, no minors involved) intoxicated sex for hee's, semi public sex for hee's and won's, pregnancy sex and stepcest for jay's, jake is a little shit, corruption kink for hoon's, public sex for sunoo's, jungwon as an entire warning for sunoo's, teacher/student dynamics for jungwon's.

i strongly advise you read part 1 before this as i'm not sure the dynamics are clear enough without previous context !

a!n i missed older enha sm i just had to give this a pt 2 <3 gen so sorry for not having posted anything in like. forever but life has been beating my ass and while brain is braining, fingertips are not writing ughhh. hopefully i get out of this slump :] as always feedback is much appreciated! enjoy <3

HEESEUNG | ‘s chest was caging you, pressing your front against the cold bathroom wall of the definitely too pricey bar your date for the night had insisted on bringing you to, and you’d be laughing at how fate works in such unexpected ways if it weren’t for how sloppily heeseung’s mouth was running down your neck. warm tongue tracing every little sensitive spot and teeth grazing your skin.

“that little boy out there? he will never make you cum as good as i do,” he whispered as he slightly pulled back, breath hot from the alcohol raising goosebumps all over your body. you were very, very annoyed with him though, after the months of radio silence on his part that followed that one night in your room. and you made it clear with how you pressed your ass against his crotch, the gasp leaving his lips making yours turn upwards in return. had you known all it took to break lee heeseung was showing up to the bar he and his coworkers frequented with another man’s arm secured around your waist, you would’ve done that ages ago.

“well, he definitely made me cum way more in the last m—” you don’t even get the chance to finish your sentence, one of his rough hands flying up to your neck to squeeze it just enough to make the words die in your throat. his other hand grabbed his cock and teased the tip of it against your folds, the fabric of your panties so drenched with your juices they stuck perfectly to your fluttering pussy, and he could feel it all.

“oh yeah? how many? so smug and for what? he must have not done a good job then because here you are, dripping for me and i haven’t even done anything.” he let his cock rest underneath your heat, slowly moving his hips to tease you as he bunched your skirt up to get a clear view. all the patience and control he thought he had was already wavering, but it flew out of the window right then. like all the months of self-restraint, the guilt he felt towards your dad, even when he was fucking his fist alone at night on facebook family pics his best friend would post every so often, bringing his deepest desires out on the surface all over again. it all meant nothing when he finally pushed your panties out of the way, unashamed of the amount of precum mixing with your juices, as he bit down on your ear before letting his tip slide into your heat. “but i have all the time i want to match whatever number it is, angel.”

JAY | who had to watch you walk around with your boyfriend, his stupid face always so bright ever since you gave him the news that you’re pregnant. stupid fucking idiot who thinks he’s the dad. but of course, jay knew better. there was no way that child growing in your belly wasn't his, not after making sure to cum inside you time and time again whenever he had the chance, until his body physically couldn’t cum anymore. he hated your boyfriend and he hated to know you let his dirty hands on your body. he hated that he couldn't claim you publicly, letting everyone know you’re his. so all he had, to keep whatever little shred of sanity left in him, was knowing that your child is a product of your love.

and when his head nuzzled in your hair as he breathed in the sweet scent of your shampoo while pumping his cock carefully in and out of your wet cunt, he asked time and time again if you knew it’s his offspring you're carrying, if you were doing all this on purpose to make him hurt.

“but of course you know—how could you not,” he said in open mouthed kisses against your neck, his hands sliding away from your thighs to swipe soothing figures with his thumb into the skin of your swollen belly. how could it be so wrong? even if he’s your step dad, even if he recently married your mother? his love for you couldn’t be wrong, because then why did it feel so right? something so beautiful and pure just has to be right, he thought to himself. his hands wandered to your tits full of milk, playing gently with your hypersensitive nipples, careful not to hurt you. “shhhh little girl, it’s okay, i’ve got you,” he murmured along the skin of your shoulder as he kept rubbing his fingers all over your tits, the little droplets of milk only helping his digits to move smoothly. you sounded so pretty mewling like that for him, looked so pretty squirming in his strong hold, your back arched as you started to fuck yourself back on jay’s cock. “what a good little girl… helping daddy out,” he moaned in your ear before bringing one of his fingers to his mouth and licking it clean, loudly groaning at the taste of your milk. “so fucking sweet baby, fuck… you always make daddy so proud.”

JAKE | truly didn't mean for this to happen, but it was happening anyway so you two should just make the best of it, at least that’s what you hoped he thought. you though? fuck, you felt so embarrassed. leaving your cheating boyfriend for his dad was one thing. but knowing he was listening in to you two fucking? that’s next level. jake didn’t seem particularly fazed by it, actually maybe a little… excited about it?

you’d swear he’s been pounding you into the matress even rougher than he was before, since he heard the front door slam, signifying his son was back home when he shouldn't have been. you were always so careful with making sure you only went over when your ex boyfriend wasn't there, or maybe jake had done that on purpose? lied to you… but he would never, would he? he’d always been so sweet and caring, truly the best man you’ve ever had. and honestly even if he did plan for this, you were not coherent enough to realize, at least not while he held your head down on the mattress with his huge veiny hand, the other roughly holding onto your hip as he unapologetically pounded into you, making the headboard of the bed slam repeatedly into the wall. the exact wall against where you knew your ex boyfriend’s desk is placed. jake was usually so soft, always putting your pleasure above his, what had gotten into him?

you could barely think as you moved your head to the side to be able to breathe, the relief short lived because soon after he grabbed your hair in a makeshift ponytail and yanked you up against his chest, his hips never faltering as your face started to feel even hotter. you couldn't tell if it was the humiliation or the pleasure, or maybe both.

“stop fucking holding back,” his tone was almost mean, so uncharacteristically him, and it brought tears to your eyes, but also made your messy cunt leak even more. you didn't want to be heard, but jake was making it one hell of a challenge to keep quiet, especially when he let go of your hip and brought his hand to rub harsh circles on your clit.

“please sir… slower,” you bit down your moans, pleading through gritted teeth. and jake was not happy about it. the sting on your clit was sudden, your body jerking in his hold as you slowly realized he’d just slapped your clit.

“no,” his voice left no room for backtalk, as he hit your bundle of nerves one second time. “you will let him hear how much better i fuck you.”

SUNGHOON | was the first man you allowed to touch you. he was obsessed with you from the moment you shyly walked up to him to introduce yourself when you first met him, pretty large eyes looking up at him with a glint he couldn't quite decipher at first. he slowly learned it was submission. from day one, you’d been nothing but obedient, always looking for praise, always trying your best to make him a proud instructor. and you just always looked up to him with such innocence… it felt wrong, how hard it made his cock.

so when he finally had you for the first time, he had to try his best not to cum right then and there, when you told him you’d never been with anyone like this. you couldn't even look at him as you confessed it, poor little thing. no one had ever pushed past your folds inside your tight fluttering hole, you’d never had anything push between your lips, never had anyone taste you. he was obsessed with that thought. he’d get to be your first everything, and that made his cock twitch in his pants.

“it’s okay baby… i will make it feel so good…” he said as he captured your lips in a kiss once again, so soft and careful as if he might break you. the kiss was deliberately slow and sensual, he wanted to just bask in the moment, afraid it might end too soon, his hands roaming around your body and pulling you flush against him, his length rubbing against your body. you gasped at the contact, breaking away suddenly, surprised at how he chased your lips again right away.

“wan’... wanna make you feel good…”

he could tell you were holding something back, too shy to initiate it, so he helped you out. “who is it pretty girl mh? who do you want to satisfy?” he watched you carefully, cradling your head with his hand, and nearly groaning when your nuzzled into his palm right away, just like a little kitty.

“wanna make daddy feel good… don’t know how to,” you stuttered out, hiding your face in his hand, too embarrassed to keep eye contact. he doesn't know where he found the self control to not turn you against the lockers in the changing room and take you right then and there, but somehow, he did. instead dropping to his knees in front of you and sniffing your cunt right through your workout leggings, mouth salivating instantly. he mouthed at your core, basking in your cute whimpers, before he finally slid the thick fabric down along with your panties, enough to reveal your puffy little pussy. he grabbed your thighs, bringing you over his mouth completely, admiring her from so close. “another time sweet girl… let daddy take care of this needy little thing first.”

SUNOO | loved showing you off to everyone. to his employees, to his friends, to his collaborators and most of all, to his competition. especially when said competition has… history with you.

he always made you wear nothing under your skirt, granting him easier access during the night. at that point, you had started to get used to all the weird looks and whispers you got when, like clockwork, his hand slid between your thighs under the table to toy with your pussy. not like they ever said anything anyway, sunoo was just too powerful and important for them to. regardless of how fucking weird he is.

this time though, it’s different. the guest for the night was none other than yang jungwon, one of sunoo’s top competitors, and well… probably your most infamous old fling. and sunoo was fucking loving it. for the special occasion, he’d encouraged you time and time again during the night to sneak your hand in his pants. and so you do; what sunoo wanted, sunoo got. that was the rule.

the air was charged with tension despite the almost laid-back look of it all: sunoo laying back against his chair like absolutely nothing was going on, and jungwon seemingly uncaring for what was actually going on, if not a little humored by it. and they were just making casual conversation at that. “heeseung… haven’t heard that name in a long time,” jungwon pondered, reaching for his wine glass.

“yeah… last time i met him he— fuck yeah puppy, just like that.”

your hand froze on sunoo’s cock, noting the twitch in his length. he always loved putting you in embarrassing situations, got off on it. your eyes widened like a deer caught in the headlights as you looked at jungwon, your foot nervously tapping on the floor when he stopped mid sip. he looked between the two of you, eyebrow quirking slightly before downing the rest of the wine in one swing. “puppy, huh?”

you wanted to hide somewhere, anywhere. let the ground engulf you and never let you escape. but sunoo pinched your thigh, and you knew it meant he wanted you to keep milking his cock with your fist, so you did.

“a very obedient one,” sunoo snickered, and you hated how it made you clamp your thighs together in search of some friction.

“she knows how to use her hands, but her head is even better,” jungwon commented, clearly amused by the situation.

“agree, had to train her to take it though.” they were talking about you, in front of you, completely ignoring the fact that you were there to hear it. and for some sick reason it turned you on. you glanced back at sunoo with a questioning look on your features, and he pet your head a few times, the usual glint in his eyes telling you to keep going, or he’d have to teach you a lesson when you two eventually left the restaurant. and one thing about sunoo, you never wanted to push him to do that.

JUNGWON | prided himself in being a calm and collected man, always level headed. that completely flies out of the window when it comes to you. but could you blame him? when he sees how all your coursemates tried to get paired up with you, found any excuse to talk to you? he knew they just wanted to get in your pants, he saw it in how they watched you, how their eyes roamed all over your body whrn you were not looking their way. he saw it in their eyes too, and he fucking hated it.

he knew it was not your fault, but he couldn't take it out on them. after all, what you two have was a secret. so instead, he took it out on you. called for you to stay back so you two could talk after class was over and everyone was already leaving, you happily walking towards him without a know in the world of the storm raging inside him. you caught up soon though, when you noticed how hard his jaw was clenched and how his knuckles were turning white from the strong grip he had on the crumpled papers.

he hastily took off his tie, securing it around your wrists so your arms were bound together behind your back. you were so confused as he made you get on his desk, looking back at him to ask what's happened but he didn't even let you get a word out before he pushed you on your knees. your upper body bent forward to rest on the desk because your arms were tied together, unable to support yourself up. your ass was facing him as he stood behind you, pushing your skirt up to reveal your bare cunt. no panties.

this would usually excite him, but in his jealous haze, it only enraged him further. “and you wanna act like you don’t know what the fuck you did?” he spit out, yanking you closer to the edge of his desk. “slutting yourself out like this? when you know how everyone is trying to get a look under your skirt?”

“won, what are you—”

“won?” he landed a harsh slap on your ass, your body jerking forward at the sting.

“sir! sorry sir—”

“yeah you’ll be sorry alright.” he took a seat on his chair, bringing your ass to hover close to his face before diving in and licking a stripe from your clit to your hole, groaning in satisfaction at the taste. “no cumming today, little brat.”

[lovesickonmybed]

teaching you a lesson in the worst kind of way | 18+

masterlist | info about palestine | donate to gaza

pairing | boss!ellie x reader

synopsis | you show up late for work once again and ellie decides another lecture just won’t do. 

warnings |  18+ MDNI!! wedgies, degradation, humiliation, panty sniffing, cunt busting, borderline footjob kind of??, a little bit of pantyhose fetish, dom!ellie, sub!reader, unbalanced power dynamics, lots and lots of dirty talk, oral sex reader!receiving.

word count | 3354

a/n | i used this fic as an excuse to explore a new kink i’ve been into. it might be a little much for some people so if anything in the warnings sounds unappealing please keep scrolling. this was also partially inspired by an audio i found on soundgasm, which you can listen to here. i urge you to not buy any of the last of us games, including the remaster as the creator, neil druckmann is a zionist. the second game is based off of the israeli occupation in palestine and you can learn more about that here.

You didn’t mean to make a habit out of being late but your shitbox car has made a habit out of deciding not to start on your busiest work days. You try to start it up again but once again it sputters pathetically and shows no signs of starting, you scream and grasp the steering wheel in frustration. “God fucking dammit! Ellie is gonna kill me…” You groan, swinging the door open and walk to your apartment lobby to call an Uber. You’re lucky enough to get one in under 5 minutes and spend the whole ride praying there won’t be much traffic, but unfortunately for you the universe is cruel and there’s an insane amount of traffic that makes you even more late than you already would be. You make a quick call to Ellie’s secretary to let her know you’ll be late and brace yourself for how much shit you’ll be in once you arrive. 

The last time you were late you got a 30 minute lecture from Ellie, a write up, and fingernail indents in your thighs thanks to your anxious habits. Ellie wasn’t a mean or a bad boss, but once you pissed her off she made it clear that you’d have to go the extra mile to get back in her good graces. Bringing Ellie her Dutch Bros order a few times a week definitely helped you out, but after your car giving out for the 3rd time in 6th months, you’re not sure if electric berry lemonades could save your ass this time. 

Your Uber pulls up outside your office building and you thank your driver for the ride and head inside quickly, looking down for a second to leave 5 stars and a good tip. You make your way to Ellie’s office as quickly as you can and thank the universe that she’s speaking with her secretary when you arrive. 

Ellie is looking down at her secretary's computer screen, running her finger underneath the sentence she’s reading, mumbling the words aloud to herself. Ellie’s secretary nudges her to alert her to your presence. She looks up and narrows her eyes, leaning down to whisper something to her secretary. She nods her head in the direction of her office and you follow her inside, playing with the hair tie on your wrist to calm your nerves. Ellie holds the door open for you and you take a moment to admire her outfit, a pinstripe suit with the buttons on her blazer undone to show off her silky black button down that’s tucked into the pants. This is one of the rare days where she’s chosen to wear heels instead of her usual oxfords. You sit down in the comfy chair in front of her desk as she sits in her chair behind her desk.

“Late again, I really thought our last talk would’ve gotten through to you,” Ellie says, shaking her head with disappointment. You sigh, looking down at your lap with embarrassment. You take a second to try and choose the best way to respond, you’ve already pissed her off enough by being almost 30 minutes late, you really can’t afford to push your luck any further.

“I’m so sorry, I know I’ve been late already a few times this quarter. I’ve been having a lot of car trouble, I’ve been waiting on my tax return to get it fixed, I can’t really afford it at the moment…” You explain, feeling yourself get hot with embarrassment as you start to pick at your pantyhose cover thighs. 

“We can discuss your car later, we’ll help you figure something out. But for now, I want to address your outfit. That skirt you’re wearing is too short, I’m gonna give you a warning for now but if you wear it again you’re getting another write up.” 

“You’re joking right? My high school had a stricter dress code than we do and I wore this all the time. There’s no way it’s too short!” You’re pissed off now, it feels like Ellie is just trying to find something to punish you for at this point.

“Well this isn’t a high school and I don’t care if you wore it then, it’s inappropriate and I need you to not wear it again. You’re lucky I’m not sending you home to change,” Ellie says, narrowing her eyes.

“I wish it was high school, at least they’d give me something else to wear!” Your frustration from how the morning has gone so far is getting to you and you snap a little bit.

“You know what? Get up,” Ellie commands, getting up out of her chair and standing over you.

“What?” You’re incredibly confused by what Ellie has planned for you for your little outburst, if you’re getting written up for insubordination you don’t know why you have to stand.

“I said get. Up.” Oh, she’s not fucking with you.

You slowly rise to your feet in confusion, furrowing your brows and looking around the room. Ellie gets out from behind her desk and steps towards you, grabbing you by your shoulders and spinning you around so that you’re facing away from her. “You know, if this was high school, I don’t think you’d like me very much. I’m sure you were a little loser, a little nerd maybe, back then. Probably got picked on and teased by girls like me, hm? Girls like me would punish girls like you for talking back with a good old fashioned wedgie.” Ellie grabs the waist of your skirt, pulling it back and reaching a hand inside your skirt. She slowly grabs the waistbands of your pantyhose and panties and yanks them up quickly, sending you stumbling forward onto your toes in an attempt to escape the searing pain she’s sent up your ass. She laughs as you reach back to try and tug them out of your hands, it just motivates her to pull harder. “Stop taking it like a little bitch, we both know you had your panties yanked every day of your miserable high school life.”

You cry out in pain as she bends you over her desk and pulls even harder. You grasp at the wood as you feel your feet lift off the ground as she pulls, it sends the fabric of your panties between your folds and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. Oddly enough the sensation between your folds gets you wet and whiny. “Do you wish it was high school now? I could always throw in a swirly if this isn’t enough for you!”

“Let me go! This isn’t okay!” You yell, trying to force yourself up. Ellie slams you back down onto her desk with no problem and pulls even harder, your pantyhose ripping in the process. You haven’t felt this humiliated in years. Ellie pulls your skirt up for a better view of your wedgied ass. 

“God these are practically disappearing inside you…” She mumbles to herself, fighting the urge to spread your cheeks for a better look at just how deep your wedgie really is. You manage to kick Ellie off of you and you feel the air get knocked out of your lungs as you hit the desk and tumble to the ground. You back yourself up against the desk and catch your breath, Ellie lets you, watching you and smiling as she plans her next move. “Don’t move an inch,” she commands.

You look up at her with fearful eyes. Your black skirt is bunched up around your waist, your ripped pantyhose and pretty white panties are stuffed deep between your folds. Ellie admires the view she has of your legs spread open, she smiles and nudges your inner thigh with her foot, pointing it towards your cunt. “Do I work you so hard you don’t have time to shave? Shame that such a pretty pussy is all covered up with that hair. I wonder how that pussy wedgie would feel if you had shaved, do you think it would hurt worse?”

You gulp and nod, not sure if she really wants you to answer her. “Y-Yeah, it probably would…” You answer meekly. Your eyes follow Ellies foot as she trails it up your inner thigh. She tests the waters, pressing the sole of her shoe against your cunt. She looks down at you and carefully analyzes your expressions.

“When you go home tonight I want you to shave, I want you to really feel it when you get that pretty little cunt flossed. Got it?” Ellie’s tone is demanding, she’s not asking you to, she’s telling you to. “You wanna be a good little employee right? Wanna follow my orders? Then do it.” Who are you to disobey her?

“Yes ma’am.” Ellie smiles down at you as you agree to follow her orders. You feel her shoe press harder against your cunt and against all better judgment you lift your hips and press yourself into the sole of her shoe, wincing at the slight pain and eyes rolling back at the pleasurable feeling. 

Ellies lets out a breathy laugh, “You like this? What are you, a little pain slut? God, who would’ve guessed my little glorified coffee runner gets off on getting her cunt wrecked.” Ellie draws her foot back like she’s about to kick you, leaning forward on one foot, placing her hand on her desk to stabilize herself. She looks down at you and tilts her head to the side, “Are you wet? Your panties are plugging you up, it’s hard to tell. Maybe I need to kick ‘em loose so I can see for myself, hm?” Ellie draws her leg back further, getting herself ready. She smirks down at you before delivering a light kick to your stuffed cunt. You gasp loudly, falling forward, throwing your arm forward to stop yourself from falling on your face. Your eyes well up with tears and you let out a guttural moan, this is a pain you’ve never felt before. It has you clawing at the carpet and leaking hot tears. But, your eyes aren’t the only thing leaking. Somehow, someway, the pain from the kick has quickly melted into pleasure. You can feel your clit twitch as you lay propped up on the floor, squeaking softly, your hips jumping up off the floor.

Ellie looks at you with a shit eating grin, reveling in your pathetic display. “Lay back against the desk and let me see if they got any looser,” she commands. She knows it’s impossible for her to kick them loose, she just wants a good view of your pathetic puffy cunt. You prop yourself back up against the desk and spread your legs for her, she gets down on her knees and crawls forward to you. She lays herself down on the floor and grabs your thighs, spreading them further apart. She shoves her face between your thighs, carefully inspecting your cunt. You can feel her breath on your thighs and against your clothed cunt, it makes you whine like a little bitch. 

“Pretty pussy getting plugged up just like it should…” She mumbles, running her finger along your stuffed slit. You throw your head back against the wood and whine, your hips bucking slightly at the feeling. Ellie smirks, knowing she’s got you right where she wants you. “Poor baby, probably haven’t been touched in so long…bet whatever pathetic toy you’ve got in your bedside drawer gets a lot of use, hm?” She grabs the fabric of your panties, slowly pulling it out of you as you whine in pain. You didn’t think it would be possible for it to hurt worse taking your wedgie out than it did actually getting wedgied but somehow it does.

Ellie leans forward and nudges her nose against your clothed clit causing you to yelp and dig your nails into the soft meat of your thigh. “So sensitive, I’m shocked you didn’t cum from just your wedgie alone…” She stands up and motions for you to do the same, you feel a bit weak as you do, using the desk to support yourself as you stand. You lean back against the desk, your skirt still bunched up over your waist, the stiff fabric staying in place. Ellie admires the view she has of your soaked and stretched out panties, the way she looks at you makes you melt. You know you shouldn’t be so wet after what she just did but something deep down in you wants her to do it again. 

“Can I…can I taste you? I know you probably taste so fucking good…please let me make you feel good,” Ellie pleads, walking closer to you before dropping to her knees in front of you. She removes her blazer quickly, tossing the pinstriped fabric behind her. You hop up on the desk, spreading your legs, as you watch her push the sleeves up on her button down shirt. “Tell me I can taste you honey, need to hear you say it…”

You look down at her, biting your lip softly. You enjoy watching her plead like that, for once you’re in control. “You can taste me, baby. Gotta make me cum, gotta make it up to my poor little cunt after what you did to her. Make it good.”

Ellie smirks up at you, looking as smug as ever with a shit eating grin. She hooks her arms under your thighs and pulls you closer to her, “I’ll make it the best you’ve ever had.” She grabs hold on your waistband and begins to pull down your underwear, stuffing them into the pocket of her pants as she removes the fabric from your body. She leans forward and you lift your legs over her arms, resting them on her shoulders. Her face is barely an inch from your cunt and you throw your head back to look at the ceiling to try and get yourself to relax. You bite your lip to hold back a whine as you feel Ellie breathing against your naked cunt, you can practically feel the smirk radiating off of her, she knows the effect she has on you and she’s proud of it. You gasp as you feel her begin to kiss your inner thighs, she moves closer and closer to your cunt before she takes your redden clit into her mouth and sucks. Your hand shoots down to her head and you grip her hair at the root as your eyes widen, you haven’t had anyone eat you out for a very long time.

She smiles and slowly pulls away from your cunt, your legs still resting over her shoulders. “You react like a fucking virgin, y’know that? I’m shocked you didn’t cum just from that,” she chuckles cockily. You roll your eyes at her and tug at her auburn locks, causing her to wince in pain. “You little bitch, I can bust that cunt of yours again y’know?” You let go of her hair and lean back on your palms. Ellie leans forward and continues, licking a stripe up your slit and using her tongue to play with your clit. This time you don’t allow yourself to hold back, you moan in pleasure. Ellie smiles and continues on, repeating the motion as you squirm beneath her, licking at your clit every now and then.

“Ellie how the fuck did you get so good at this?” You whine, your eyebrows furrowing as you start to softly grind against her face, using her hair as an anchor. You ease up on her hair so she can pull away to answer, “I was really popular in college,” she jokes, before immediately diving right back in. 

Your hips buck up in pleasure as she goes back to sucking your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You grip her hair even tighter and grind your cunt against her face, borderline riding it at this point. She lets you use her as she uses her tongue to massage your clit while she sucks on it. She widens her mouth to suck your cunt as well and that’s all it takes to send you over the edge. Your hips leave the table and you pull her hair with all your might as you spasm underneath her, moaning out her name, your legs tightening around her head involuntarily as you practically fold in on yourself. She lets you come down from your high, drinking you up enthusiastically, letting you make a mess all over her face. When you manage to come down you let your legs fall open and Ellie finally is able to get some air. You lay back and admire her flushed face, the lower half of it is covered in your slick and it’s a sight you’d pay to see again. 

You let your legs dangle off the desk, feeling like they’re made of jelly as both you and Ellie recover. Your cheeks heat up as you watch Ellie wipe the slick from her face with your underwear, giving them a sniff before she tucks them back in her pocket. She gets up from the ground and walks around her desk, sitting down in her chair and cradling your head. “You’re so fuckin pretty, you were so good for me,” she says, smiling down at you, stroking your cheek lovingly. 

“Where did you learn to eat pussy like that, I’m so serious?” You ask, giggling to yourself when her cheeks turn red and she looks up at the ceiling. 

“I told you! I was very popular in college!” She laughs and brushes some of your hair out of your face. You can see a bit of slick still on her chin and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it.

“How am I supposed to work after that? My legs feel like jelly, my cunt is pretty sore, and you stole my panties and destroyed them.”

Ellie chuckles, “I guess I could give you the day off…or maybe just assign you to work with me all day while I help you figure out what to do about your car situation.” 

You groan, you had completely forgotten about your car, “Shit. I doubt there’s anything I can do, I swear she’s done for this time!” You had a lot of memories in your car, a lot of them involved screaming to I Don’t Care by Fall Out Boy before going into work. 

“I’ll help you figure it out, pretty girl. It’s the least I could do after dress coding you over some bullshit and wrecking your cunt,” Ellie says. 

“Oh so you admit the dress coding was bullshit!” You exclaim, sitting up and hopping off the desk, pulling your skirt back down and smoothing it out. You sit down in the chair you had sat in earlier when she had called you in and look at Ellie with your arms crossed in annoyance.

Ellie rolls her eyes and huffs, “Of course it was bullshit, but hey I needed a reason to keep you in here longer. You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to fuck you, it’s been so hard to try and be professional with you around.” You take a minute to wrap your head around what Ellie just said.

“You what?” You’re shocked she’d admit to it.

“I’m not sure why, but after we had that work event at the arcade with the karaoke room I’ve been thinking about you. Maybe it was seeing you in casual clothes or seeing you sing your heart out to Sugar, We’re Goin Down but something about you that night just awakened something in me. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, it was driving me crazy,” Ellie confesses. You sit across from her and your jaw is practically on the floor.

“So you really like me? You didn’t just want to fuck me, right?” You ask once you’ve regained the ability to speak. 

“Yeah, I really fucking like you,” she smirks.

“HR is gonna have a field day with us…”

[lovebugdrabbles]

Wriothesley Headcanons n$4w vers

notes: i need readers to please go into this believing bro is 35 years of age MINIMUM. or u won't get my VISION. also, my tags are messy bc it's my first time posting my writing on tumblr so just pretend ik how to tag my writing.

warnings: n$4w obvs, 1k words, untitled sentences for the aesthetic, semi-lit, i do use apostrophes, shortened words/abbreviations, i want him in a muzzle so that's mentioned, inappropriate use of handcuffs, i mention he gets rough, i write him as a sweetie pie lowkey tho, tbh it’s a little vanilla, i made a joke abt being ford tough and i feel that warrants a warning, biting, pet name ‘doll’ used, (brief mention) ass slapping , (brief mention) hair pulling, i call him a teddy bear a couple times, (mentioned) slight manhandling, i get a little too into imaging him subby, oops, i also get a bit caught up in soft dom wriothesley,

now playing |◁ II ▷| ‘doin time’ by sublime

methinks he's defff vers/switch but will fully let a partner take over or will take control himself. i don't believe he's picky in this department for a moment. i think he might prefer dom however his dom side has limits.

i bet he's sooo vocal. letting every little grunt and moan out. word vomits too. whatever he’s thinking, his partner will hear it.

big softie. idc. he is a SWEET MAN. 'love should be warm' headass.

so many pet names for his partner. doll, baby, baby-doll, babe, sweetheart, hon/honey. but doll or sweetheart r his faves.

using his title in bed makes him melt.

like i don't think he's malicious in bed. like truly. he seems teddy-bearish to me but i could be looking thru rose colored glasses i must say.

he's def a bit rough tho but i think it'd be in a playful way. there is times he’d get too into the moment and grab on a bit too tight to a thigh or the hair he's running a hand thru or snap his hips a little too hard but he doesn't mean to and will apologize immediately and try to make it up to a partner or even stop mid-session to make sure the other party is alright.

not opposed to using the cuffs if a partner asks. on him or his partner. but he needs enthusiastic consent before or he won't do it.

i do think he’s actually rlly good abt asking for consent to do things tho. but he does it in a way that it feels like part of sex and not just asking for permission ‘you like that?’, ‘you wanna keep going, doll?’ ‘wanna keep taking me?’ but he will make said doll use their words or he won’t keep going. mans is a whore for hearing a partner beg or ask him to do something and he's not above it either.

he seems like the type to wanna hold hands while going at it. like if his hands can reach his partners they are intertwined or at least touching. a pinkie wrapped around the other at the very least. he feels closer and just… better with it

y'all know the shirt that says 'warning this bitch bites' he needs it. will leave marks that last for days and absolutely loves if a partner does it too. but he does feel a bit guilty after especially if it's a hard bite so will pepper kisses on them after.

seeing his bite marks on a partner drives him crazy tho. like, makes him stop in his tracks and wakes up smth in him like a sleeper agent.

kisses thru-out the ordeal soz u can pry this from my cold dead hands. he feels a little guilty if he isn't kissing a hand, a clavicle or any piece of skin he can delicately place a smooch on occasionally when he's not biting ofc.

additionally: my brain has been occasionally FOGGED w thoughts of him in a muzzle. i'm drooling rn actually. i think he'd have a love-hate relationship with it since he wouldn't be able to kiss or bite a partner but he absolutely bends at a partner’s will when they tug on the bars and that's the best part for him

honestly i don't think he'd be comfortable going much harder than what i've mentioned. maybe he'd allow a few slaps on the ass but idk just seems out of character imo. being rough and tumble is for work and the ring and i think he'd keep it that way.

i did say he's a switch/vers so it's time to talk abt both sides of the coin :))))

when he's in a particularly subby mood; he's pathetic. a complete mess of a man.

its so satisfying to see a guy so high in power just groveling to someone.

i bet he looks at a partner w the biggest puppy dog eyes, mumling the softest and breathiest pleases, his hair all tousled and falling over his face. he thinks he's willing to do anything a partner orders him to do atp.

especially interested in peppering kisses on a partner when he's in this mood. nuzzling and sighing as he wraps his arms around his partner and smooches.

this is the time he is very much not opposed to the handcuffs on him.

i think he'd asked to be praised or called a good boy on these nights. i don't make the rules.

this is when he gets vocal. whimpering included too.

but the facade almost immediately drops when aftercare starts.

on the topic of a dom wriothesley; honestly i dont see him getting into the rough dom role but staying more of a soft dom and being very comfortable there.

that is where the word vomit happens, talking a partner through it all when he's in this mood, telling them how good they feel, they're being so good, or to quiet down despite being a bit noisy himself but that's what his biting is for.

moaning into every bite. teeth marks and hickeys covering a partner the next morning leading to that system overload i touched on earlier.

willing to try more positions when he's in this mood fs but he truly believes you cant go wrong w the classics. *cough cough* missionary

this is when he gets real into it and loses himself in the moment like i mentioned earlier. hips bucking and hands reaching to hold onto a partner like they'll escape.

he gets a little bit rougher but its still not in a mean way more in a 'oh yeah? watch this.' type way. pulling a partner closer of man handling them to hold their hips in a better position.

occasionally those pet names get a very adamant 'my' in front of them.

i think this is when his most comfortable area of aftercare comes in but not before one last thing.

he'd like to stay holding a partner for a bit afterwards, letting everyone regain their bearings before hopping into aftercare mode if he was the one in control.

aftercare on top tho. tea, running a bath, helping a partner bathe if they so want, helping a partner get dressed if they're super sore, massages, just all out pampering, especially if he gets a little rough.

he equally enjoys reciving aftercare but is hesitant bc he says he's fine or he's built tough. BUILT FORD TOUGH. sorry idk where that came from and he is but the guy needs to let a partner take care of him sometimes.

the 'love is supposed to be warm' line weighs heavy on me if u cant tell. he's just a teddy bear :(( ugh i'll sob.

la fin !

end notes: tysm for reading the ravings of a madman !! i've had so many random ass thoughts abt him since playing the story quests lmfao and i wanted to get out of my fluffy/horror writing comfort zone so i wrote basically what i think he's like in bed jsjsjs. i may be posting some stuff on boothill from honkai star rail but it'll probably be more rambling just about robotics and prosthesis for now if i post. if i don't post that i'm wrapping up a wriolette fic soon and that will be up here or on my ao3 under the same user !! till next timeee

[trippinsorrows]

through your eyes + au 4

authors note: thank you so much to all of ya'll showing interest in this little au 🥺🥺🥺 ya'll are the real mvp's.

masterlist

words: 4.5k // warnings: some smut, roman being possessive/borderline stalkerish

Solana is clearly naive.

Embarrassingly so, because for her to just assume she could dip out on Roman Reigns without there being any sort of consequence or him wanting to follow up was simply ludicrous.

It’s ludicrous and simply not going to fly for the Head of the Table, hence Solana’s current situation. Standing at the back of her store trying to convince Sami Zayn to deliver her very clear, unmistakable message to Roman who’s apparently waiting out back for her.

“Sami, I’m sorry you’re in….in the middle of this, but I—I don’t want to see Roman.” There’s a strange, borderline uncomfortable feeling that rises, even as the words leave her mouth. Solana knows that’s what she needs to say and should say, but there’s a part of her that doesn’t want to say it.

But, then she thinks back to Rosalia’s cruel words, hurtful but true. And it’s the reminder she needs. She swallows, reiterating, “please tell him I’m not interested.”

And while these may be words spoken from a sudden sense of finality, they seem to be more of a death sentence to the man before her. Sami’s face is growing red and ruddy by the minute. “Oh boy.” He blows out a breath and runs his hand through his still unkempt hair. “Ms. Miller—”

She gives him a small smile. “You can call me Solana.”

“I can’t call you anything if I’m dead.” Her eyes go wide, and he winces, apologizing. “I’m sorry. I just—I’ve been working hard to work my way up in the Bloodline and telling the Tribal Chief no….well, that sure seems like a good way to get my ass chewed up and spit out….or worse.”

A deep frown settles on Solana’s face as she nervously taps her fingers against the side of her legs. The last thing she wants is for Roman to take his anger at her ‘rejection’ out on Sami. She’s not worth that. 

At all.

Gasping quietly, she shares, “I have an idea.” She motions for him to follow her, Solana guiding them to her office in the back. Grabbing a pen and the notebook on her desk, she quickly gets to writing, not allowing herself to think too much. That’ll only cause her to second guess her decision, when she really can’t afford to do so. 

Roman,

I’m sorry for leaving abruptly, but that shouldn’t have happened. We’re two very different people. I’m not what you’re looking for. Let’s just end this now before it gets too far.

Sorry for wasting your time.

Solana

She doesn’t even give herself the chance to look it over, ripping it from the notebook, folding it over and handing it to Sami. “Just give him this.”

Sami looks down at the piece of paper like it may contain anthrax. He then sighs, heavily, accepting it from her. “Alrighty then.”

Grateful for his amenable nature, she offers a small smile of appreciation. “Thank you, Sami.”

He says nothing, just walks out without another word to deliver the message that will, hopefully, close up this strange, unexpected, brief chapter of her life involving a certain Roman Reigns.

Never mind the strange feeling in the pit of her stomach making Solana wonder if she’s made a mistake. 

But, she quickly pushes it away. The silly thing. Of course, she made the right decision. There’s no place in her life for someone like Roman Reigns.

It’s just better this way.

—--------

In recent months, it’s happened more often than not that Solana finds she has the condo she shares with two of her best friends, Rhea and Kayden, to herself. 

Just Solana and her 8 month old puppy, Dulce.

Tonight happens to be one of those nights. 

And she’s grateful. Because while Rhea still remains oblivious to Solana’s…..experiences with Roman, Kayden is aware and skeptical of Solana’s made up story about the evening not going well, hence her coming home early last night. It would be a believable story, especially considering this is Roman, but not for the fact that Solana sucks at lying and Kayden is a truth seeker through and through.

So having a night off of having to dodge her sly attempts to coax out the truth is appreciated.

Very much so.

Kayden is spending the night over at her latest fuck buddy's, and Rhea…..well, Solana doesn’t exactly know why Rhea has been coming home either at an ungodly hour or not until sunrise the next day. It’s sort of out of character for her normally antisocial friend, but Solana also knows that Rhea is the person who will open up about things when she’s ready, so she's just left it alone. 

But them being gone leaves Solana and Dulce with the condo to themselves. Hence her taking the opportunity to truly decompress from an eventful, stressful week. After her ‘everything’ shower, she puts her hair in space buns and pulls out the skimpy shirt and underwear set gifted to her by Rhea last Christmas. It’s not something Solana would ever wear in front of anyone, somewhat because of the emo design but mostly because it’s so revealing. A thong and barely there tee.

It’s also an intentional thing, walking around so exposed, more skin on display than usual. Something to aid in building back up her body confidence that was almost entirely squashed under the overwhelming weight of those infamous text messages.

Solana does her best not to revisit those dark times, arguably one of the hardest periods of her life. She can’t go back. Has come too far and made too much progress to regress. Even more, he isn’t worth it.

Never was.

Filling her Stanley cup up—a gift from her bougie ass cousin Jade—with ice, Solana grabs a water bottle and empties it, topping the icy water with two lemon packets. Tossing the used packets in the trash, she grabs her phone and ventures through her many Spotify playlists, settling on the R&B one. Turning on her Beats headphones, she slides them over her ears, smiling at the opening notes of Fantasy by Mariah Carey.

Walking out the kitchen, phone in one hand, Stanley cup in the other, she hits the lights and hums along to one of Mariah’s many bangers. Her smile grows and hips naturally move to the rhythmic, infectious beat as she hits the light switch in her bedroom, walking over to her nightstand where she deposits her cup.

Shuffling over to her attached bathroom, she flicks the switch and goes to put away some of the products used during her hour spent in there for the shower and everything after. Cleaning and Mariah end up being the perfect combination, Solana’s singing and dancing increasing and evolving into a brief, silly little moment of her using her hairbrush as a microphone. A nice, little nostalgic throwback to so many summers ago that she spent with her cousins, staying up much later than what they should have, giggling over trivial things like boy bands and school gossip.

Much simpler times.

Before she grew up and realized that maybe the idea of men—and love—would always be better than the reality. At least, for her.

Pleased with the clean state of her bathroom, Solana turns off the lights and dances and sways her shapely hips while sauntering back into her bedroom. 

“I’m in heaven. With my boyfriend, my laughing boyfriend. There’s no beginning, and there is no—AHH!”

Eyes wide, hand against her chest, Solana is rendered speechless and barely avoids a heart attack at the sight that awaits her.

Roman.

In her home.

In her bedroom.

Sitting on the chair by her vanity, Dulce in her bed just a few feet away, sleeping like everything is fine. Like there’s not a complete stranger in her room. 

Her brother and dad were definitely right about one thing. Dulce is for comfort. Not protection.

Solana just continues to stare, in a brief state of shock while Roman simply states with a smirk.

“Don’t stop on my account, baby.” Oh my God. “I was enjoying the hell out of that show.” His light brown eyes travel over her body, as she rips off her headphones. “Very, very much.”

It’s that statement that reminds her of her attire. Or lack, thereof. A humongous wave of embarrassment and borderline humiliation wash over her as she reaches for her robe on the bed, hurriedly putting it on and tossing the headphones down on the mattress.

Roman chuckles at the action, standing up from the chair, reorienting Solana to the situation. The potential severity of the situation. 

“Roman, what are you—how did you—” She has so many questions. A ton. A million. But, the first one is how. “How did you get in—I –made sure the doors were all l��locked.”

He stops halfway, scoffing, “sweetheart, you can’t be that naive. Locked doors don’t do shit. Especially not for someone like me.” A sort of frown then falls on his face as he shares, “you really should have a security system. I’ll have one put in tomorrow.”

Solana can barely process him telling her that he’s getting a security system installed in her home, because he’s back moving toward her, a small slice of panic forming. 

Moving back against the closest wall, she cautions in the least intimidating voice ever. “I–I’ll scream.”

Again, he pauses, that wicked smile reappearing. “Oh, I am going to make you scream, but it won’t be out of fear.” Solana’s stomach flutters, but she can’t tell if it’s because of his suggestive comment or just the asinine nature of this entire situation. 

And, it’s when he’s directly in front of her, one hand planted on the wall above her that she finds it in her to ask, “Roman, what—what are you doing here?”

In her house. In her room. In her life. She’ll take an answer for any of them at this point. 

Meanwhile, he simply responds like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’ve been avoiding me.” Solana wouldn’t call it avoidance as much as she would call it trying to pretend he doesn’t exist and what happened between them never occurred.

Tried to play all of that off as some bad dream. Or maybe just a dream, because nothing about how he made her feel back in that locker room could ever be even remotely close to bad.

But, she can’t tell him that.

Of course not.

So, she does the possible worst thing someone could do in this situation. 

She lies.

Sidenote: Solana hates that he’s so close to her for a plethora of reasons, the major one being that he’s close enough to touch her. A dangerous, dangerous thing. It's.....distracting

“I—I haven’t.”

Roman makes a ‘tsk tsk tsk’ sound. “Lying to me never turns out well for people, but you’re pretty, so I’ll give you a pass. This time.” She swallows, practically unable to stop their locked gaze. “Why?”

She didn’t realize the first statement was actually a question, but that’s irrelevant now. “I—I told you. I—” She blows out a breath. “What happened was—was a mistake.”

“Bullshit,” he’s calling her bluff. “You don’t believe that.”

Maybe she does. Maybe she doesn’t. But, there’s nothing confusing or conflicting about her next statement. “I’m not—I’m not like that, Roman. I don’t…..sleep around. I—” Solana has to stop herself. The last thing she needs to be telling this man is that she’s still a virgin. Something tells her it’ll up the ante. “My fiancé or—”

He cuts her off, asking, “are you still engaged?”

That might be the easiest thing he’s ever asked her. “No.”

“Good.” He shrugs, adding casually while shrugging one shoulder. “Wouldn’t have made a difference. I would have just killed him anyway.”

Horrified. Solana should be horrified by that chilly statement. No doubt something he would 100% do. Men like Roman have no moral compass. They live by their own primal, selfish wants without regard for others. And yet, something within Solana, that might not be too far off from Roman’s lack of morality, causes her to mutter, “I–I should probably be more disturbed by that.”

Roman’s eyes narrow with curiosity. “Do you want me to kill him?”

“No.” That’s also an easy answer. Well. Sort of. “But—”

“But?”

She shouldn’t say it. Absolutely should not say it, and yet, something dark within her makes it creep out, sneaks it past her inner morality police. “If you had asked me a couple months ago, I might have given you a different answer.”

Awful. It’s an awful thing to say about another human being....even if that human being is a piece of scum.

Finding out the truth about her relationship, finding out the facade of her relationship nearly broke her. Solana's heart was shattered into a thousand pieces that she’s still working to regroup. She’s far from where she was when her world fell apart but is still not exactly who she was prior to the ruination.

She’s not sure she’ll ever be. 

Meanwhile, Roman makes a sound, sharing, “maybe I’ll kill him anyway.”

And this is why Solana didn’t want to say anything. Because it’s like dangling candy in front of a kid. Still, what motive would he have? 

Solana is partially confused and needs to not think about his touch, thus her going for a relevant distraction. “For what reason?”

With a dark chuckle, he traces random patterns against the belt of her robe. “He obviously hurt you. That’s reason enough for me.”

Solana frowns. This man makes no sense. No sense whatsoever. 

Her voice is low, heavily weighed down by confusion and something else she can’t identify. “Roman, what—what do you want from me?”

“A lot.” Her stomach is knotting all over again. That is not the answer she was expecting. “But, let’s start with why you left.”

“I told you—”

“The truth, Solana.” His voice goes hard as does his expression. “I’m not going to ask you again.”

She believes it. 

Swallowing, she realizes the truth is something that he’s going to get one way or another. Might as well concede now.. “Your…..your sister—”

He briefly looks away, muttering something in a language she doesn’t recognize. His gaze is then back on her. “What did she say?”

“Nothing nice.” It’s not the specifics, but it is an answer. A truthful answer, just like the next part of her statement. “But—but, she wasn’t wrong either.” Solana shakes her head, once again reiterating, “if–if you’re looking for an easy lay, then—”

“Solana, I can get that anywhere and with anyone. Respectfully, if that’s what I wanted, I wouldn’t be standing here in front of you.” 

She believes it. Because it makes sense. There’s no shortage of women who would gladly give Roman whatever he wants, however he wants it, and whenever he wants it. And yet, he’s here with her….for what?

It’s a question she finds herself verbalizing. 

“Why—why are you here then?”

Roman just looks at her, his eyes twinkling with desire. And right there, Solana knows she should have gone with the scream. 

The scream of fear.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you…..” His volume lowers, but Solana is too caught up on what he said versus how he said it. “How good you smell, how good you look….” She closes her eyes the minute he dips his head, Solana unconsciously grasping his shirt. “How good you tasted.” She releases a shaky breath that matches the light tremble of her thighs when he asks, “you been thinking about me?”

Yes. Far too much. An embarrassing amount. “N–no.”

Roman’s deep voice hums against her ear, like he can hear her betraying thoughts.. “Hmmm. I don’t think that’s true.” 

Solana should stop him the minute his hand starts to mess with the knot of her belt. Should push his hand away or offer a verbal protest instead of just standing there, letting the robe fall open, revealing herself to him. 

She opens her eyes just in time to see Roman soaking her in, eyes slowly and gradually going over her body the same way he’s done the past few times. 

“You wanna know what I think?” She’s so thankful he doesn’t wait for a response, cause he’d be waiting for a minute. It seems Mr. Roman Reigns is a voice snatcher, especially when his hand moves to her belly of all places, tip of his finger moving across her pudge. “I think you left because you liked it.”

Oh my God. 

Solana’s head falls back against the wall behind her, her hand flattening against his abs. 

Roman continues to taunt her and call her bluff. “You liked the way daddy made you feel.” She goes to grab his wrist the minute his hand dips inside her underwear. “The same way I’m making you feel now, huh?”

He’s not lying. Even if she wanted it to be a lie, the truth is unavoidable and inescapable, right there, real and tangible as he grazes his fingers over her lips. 

Soaked. 

Of course. 

“What you need to understand, baby, is that daddy can do this cat and mouse shit all day.” Roman’s words are accompanied by him moving his hand to slide her panties to the side as he slips one of those deliciously long, thick fingers inside of her, making her arch against him. “I always get what I want, and I want you.” She chews on her bottom lip as he enters another finger, her walls contracting around him. Roman groans, “that lil' dick fiancé of yours certainly wasn’t fucking you right cause this pussy way too tight.”

Roman practically growls, moving his other hand from the wall to lift her left leg, widening it, giving him more access to her, his reach inside of her deepening. “Look at how you’re gripping my fingers right now. This cunt needs me.” This new depth has her eyes watering as he thrusts his fingers inside of her, while his thumb flicks at her clit. “Got you this wet from barely doing anything, and you really want me to believe you ain’t been thinking about me?”

Rhetorical. It’s gotta be rhetorical. He can’t honestly expect her to say or respond to anything in a logical manner with how he’s making her feel right now. Overwhelmed. In a good way. A majestic, glorious way.

Solana goes to grip his arm, her fingers unable to touch. He’s so built. “Roman….”

“You said you don’t sleep around, and that’s okay, cause when it's all said and done, you still won't be sleeping around, because the only one who's allowed to touch you from now on is me." She whimpers, that familiar feeling from that night in his locker room coming over her all over again. Her thighs are practically jelly, those tears finally leaving the confines of her eyes. “This tight little pussy is mine.”

That one sentence, possessive and controlling, should not be the thing that sends her over the edge. That has her gripping onto him as her orgasm rips through her body, that has stars shooting behind her closed eyelids. But, that’s exactly the case. Roman has to practically keep her upright as he watches her come all over his hand.

His lips ghost over the outline of her jaw. “I could never get tired of watching you come.” But the minute he pulls his fingers out of her used, puffy vagina, and Solana opens her eyes to see him licking them clean, she nearly comes all over again.

This man is going to ruin her.

He uses that same hand, damp fingers going under her chin to lift her head, making her look at him.

“You ran because it freaks you out that you’re interested in me the same way I’m interested in you.” And before she can even begin to sit on that, he throws her for another loop. “I’m not gon’ make you do anything you don’t wanna do, but just know this, you will want it before it’s all said and done.” 

Solana swallows, completely wordless and wholly stunned at just how the hell this happened yet again. He says a couple things, gives her a few touches, and she spreads her legs without second thought. Like her vagina has its own mind and thought process, completely uninterested in whatever logic may be going on upstairs in her brain.

She’s (her pussy) just trying to get hers, and Roman just happens to be very…..very good at that. 

Unfortunately.

“Now let’s try this again.” Roman slides his arm through the back of her robe to pull her closer against him. Her hand moving up his abs to his chest seems to elicit the slightest hiss from him. A reaction that has her both confused and excited. “I’m asking you to have dinner with me.”

Her eyes widen. He’s asking her. Giving her a choice. Not a demand. And while it should feel good to some extent. Nice to have some autonomy. It’s still…

The answer is obvious. The same reason she ran out that night. The same reason she gave him that letter. Roman is not the type of man she needs to be messing around with. He’s dangerous. Beyond dangerous. Unpredictable. Older. She could probably create a generous list of reasons to tell him no. To take this 'out' he’s giving her.

And yet……

She’s briefly pulled from her thoughts when he brings his hand to her face, cupping her cheek. His expression is soft, such a marked contrast for everything about him that’s so hard and dark. “I just want to get to know you, La'u Ma'asoama.”

She hasn’t the slightest clue what he just said, but everything about it from the delivery to the almost pleading tone of his deep voice does absolutely nothing to help her resolve.

Solana’s voice is light. “J–just dinner?”

He nods. “Just dinner. I promise to not touch you.” Roman smirks, finger tracing the outline of her lips. “Unless you want me to.”

She closes her eyes. That’s the last thing that needs to happen. She needs to decline, needs to return back to the days where the thought of even entertaining someone like Roman would never even cross her mind. He represents everything in her life she never wanted for herself.

And yet, it’s hard for her to think of anything alarming that's happened that would justify her saying no. Not from what she’s personally experienced with him. He’s direct, yes. Has a filthy (talented) mouth, most definitely. But, he’s yet to be rude or mean or exhibit any of the other horrible things she’s heard about him making her wonder if maybe…..just maybe, there’s more to Roman Reigns than meets the eye.

He was right about one thing.

There's definitely an interest on her part. 

“O–okay. ”She finally concedes, stomach fluttering at his smile. He’s so handsome. “But, can—can it be some place private? I—” She’s not sure how to tell this man that at her big age of 28, she’s nervous about her family finding out about…..whatever this is. Doesn’t want to risk anyone seeing her with Roman Reigns, of all people. On a date, nonetheless.

Roman, however, just scoffs. “I hate people, Solana. I especially hate being bothered when I’m busy.” That’s not surprising at all.  “And I plan to be very busy with you.” His thumb caresses the apple of her cheek. “It’ll be private.”

He needs to stop touching her so much. She’d very much like to be able to think straight with lucidity, and that’s clearly not a possibility when he’s touching her. 

“O–okay.”

“Good girl.” And he definitely needs to stop referring to her as that for……reasons. “I’ll text you the details.”

Her brows furrow. “You–you have my number?”

He shrugs like it’s an obvious thing. “Of course.”

Never mind the fact that this man has her number, something she’s always prided herself on in only allowing those close to her have such close contact. It's besides the point, because she has another pressing question. “So—why didn’t you just….call or–or something instead of…..” She doesn’t know why she has a hard time finishing her sentence. Calling him out, in a sense, on literally breaking and entering into her house.

Cause that’s exactly what he did.

And yet, she’s still standing here, entertaining him when she should have just called the police or something. Not that that would make a difference. It’s a known fact that the Bloodline has practically the whole state of Florida on payroll. Police departments included.

Roman shakes his head. “A phone call doesn’t let me see this pretty face.” Her breathing is once again interrupted when he flits his thumb across her lips, separating them ever so lightly. “Or touch you….”

Lord.

He smiles at her poorly hidden reaction to such a touch, dropping his hand. “And don’t worry about Rosalia. I’ll take care of her.” If she wasn’t his actual freaking sister, Solana might be a bit fearful of what the ‘take care’ means. 

The Bloodline may be ruthless, but they don’t play about family. Going after blood is strictly prohibited outside of the most extreme cases. And Roman’s sister essentially calling her a whore is far from extreme.

“One more thing.” Solana gasps when he suddenly turns her around and tugs off her robe, the soft plush falling to the ground, leaving her exposed yet again in front of this man. 

“R–Roman!” Before she can try to cover herself, Roma tugs her close, her back pressed up against his front. Solana refuses to acknowledge the hardness pushing into her back. 

He then drops his mouth by her ear again, murmuring, “you don’t ever have to be insecure around me.” Roman moves his big hands over her thick thunder thighs. “These gon’ keep my face when I’m eating.” He steps back just enough to palm her ass, sharing, “I’m gonna love seeing the recoil of all this ass you got when I’m fucking you from behind.” More movement to the front and upward, Roman palming her breast through her flimsy top. “Can’t wait to feel all up on these big titties while watching you ride my dick.” And finally, he dops both hands to her belly, gathering her rolls. “And this……It’s all you, so I fuckin love it.”

She’s beyond grateful he doesn’t let those big, talented hands travel to the space between her legs, because it’s just plain embarrassing how he’s got her pussy throbbing and wet all over again from some not so innocent touches.

Roman Reigns is clearly no good for her. 

And yet, the slightest frown appears on her face when he releases her, stepping back, eyes quickly snapping back up from her ass as she turns around.

His smile is smug and borderline arrogant. Or maybe knowing. Because arrogance implies a greater sense of importance that doesn’t match actual abilities. And Roman most certainly has some sinfully delightful abilities. 

Their gazes are locked as he murmurs, “Goodnight, Solana.” She licks her lips, ready to return the parting term when he simply walks past her and out the door, closing it behind him.

It’s only then that she leans back against the wall, hands to her face, trying to process just what the hell just happened.

Because, truly, what the hell just happened?

[lightseoul]

cw. gn!reader, flighty!reader, reader works in forensics, prohero!katsuki, aged up (around mid 20s)

a/n. this was fun to write lmao. this is definitely not self-indulgent :0 again, would surely appreciate reblogs and comments <3

You’re a runner.

And no, not in the dystopian, getting-out-of-a-manmade-maze sense.

You run from feelings.

And that happens to include the kind when someone gets a little bit too close for comfort.

But you also do run in the literal sense.

In fact, you just did.

Panting, you round the next corner of your office building’s hallway, what was once a sprint (at least, the type that was possible in a crowded skyscraper in Tokyō) now faltering into a light jog.

Huffing, you chance a peek behind your shoulder, a sigh wracking your body when you conclude that the man of the hour is finally out of sight.

“What’s up with you?”

The man’s red-headed best friend quirks an amused eyebrow at you when you halt at the sound, startled.

He slows down in his steps as he appraises the mess that you currently are; from the looks of it, he’s heading in the direction you’re desperately trying to run away from, and for a split second, you’re half your mind to drag him with you to the elevator and vanish before the man could spot the both of you.

Why the fuck are you acting like this?

“I—Was just wanting to—” At this point, you’re severely out of breath. And you’d chalk it up to the physical exertion you definitely aren’t used to, but you know it’s more than that.

The warmth of your cheeks seems to suggest that, too.

“Hold up.”

You look up at Kirishima, one hand still on your hip to help keep you upright despite the exhaustion.

He tilts his head. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting with Bakubro?”

Even just the mention of his name triggers your fight-or-flight response.

It also happens to send a flood of longing right through you.

“Yeah,” you rasp, before checking over your shoulder again. Coast: still clear.

“What are you—” Kirishima starts, eyebrows pinched in confusion, before what looks like realization and amusement flash across his features.

“Did he—”

“Yeah,” you cut him off before he could say it.

Apparently, being confessed to out of the blue by the man you’ve been in love with for a year cuts your sentence-formation capabilities to not more than one worded ones at a time.

Just as you expected, worry dances its way across Kirishima’s face.

“Are you running away from him?”

You choke on your spit.

“Hey, easy, Y/N,” Kirishima says while awkwardly rubbing your back as you cough your lungs out.

You stand upright when you finally gather your bearings, ready to explain, or attempt to explain to Kirishima (but more to yourself) why you just fled the meeting room where you and Bakugou were discussing the forensics of his new case.

It’s not like you didn’t see it coming.

The feelings, not the outright confession.

Midoriya, Kirishima, and his other friends have made it pretty obvious with their background teasing that the emotionally constipated blonde has taken a particular interest in you.

(Background because the aforementioned blonde would indubitably kill them if he found out they were teasing you, let alone about him.)

You just couldn’t bring yourself to believe it and hell—start to hope—until a while ago, when the Bakugou Katsuki himself slammed his fist on the table, spitting out the three words you’ve been dreaming to hear from him since you first worked on that gory ass mission together.

Well, four. If you count the curse slotted among the ‘I like you’.

But as it turns out, the reality of it all—Bakugou’s vulnerability, mutual feelings, and possibly dating a Pro Hero—scared you.

And so you ran.

And you were about to confess all this to poor Kirishima when a booming voice echoes through the hallway, effectively triggering your (definitely) flight response once more.

At that, you bolt to the elevators, leaving behind a speechless Kirishima.

Luckily for you, Bakugou has always been good at chasing what he wants.

[ilovespec]

Introduction of a lamb to a wolf

Slighty yandere Spec × GN ! reader.

I wrote it anyway!! YAPIIIEEEEI

9579 words

The year is 2018. Tokyo.

Your name is Y/N Y/L. You are a successful journalist working for a popular agency. Your days are always routine, but sometimes there are exceptions. As it is, most of the time, your days are pretty monotonous. Getting up early , going to work , searching for information , writing articles. The road home , and then sleep, and so on almost every day... But sometimes, there were interesting cases, because of which you almost have gray hair in your (your age) years. But because of this, you were always ready for anything and almost not afraid! And now, as you thought it was the most ordinary routine day, you got up as usual, brushed your teeth, quickly rinsed in the shower and after eating, went to work. But as soon as you came to your "favorite" job, you were immediately called to your boss.

- The boss : You know why I called you, don't you?

- You: Uh... No, I don't think so... I've been working well lately.. And I didn't make any mistakes -

Your boss throws a fresh newspaper in your face, with the headline - "THE FIVE DEATH ROW CONVICTIONS IN TOKYO!!! "And under the headline there were portraits of five men... They all radiated danger... But one portrait scared you, and made goosebumps run down your back especially strongly...He was a tanned, bald man. With a grin on his face. His name was Spec.

- The Boss: FIND ME INFORMATION ABOUT ONE OF THESE FIVE , I- uh , PEOPLE NEED A SENSATION !!!

You nod dejectedly , take your camera , put your free hand in your pocket and go to the "adventure meeting" on your ass...

｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

You've been driving around the city in your car for a couple of hours now.. There was nothing! Which is quite expected. Surely escaped murderers , who were even more sentenced to death, will not wander around the city and explore the sights? I doubt it. Maybe they're laying low, or something like that... You looked at the sky... Such a beautiful sunset.. You have already raised your camera to take a picture of this beautiful view, when suddenly you look down and see such a picture... On the ground A beaten boy (Baki) is lying, a severed hand is pressed to his face AND HE IS BEING BEATEN BY ONE OF THE ESCAPED PRISONERS!!! " *drum roll " who is it ??? The correct answer is all the most true fans of Baki, this is the best waifu of all time - Spec!!! His cheeks are shot through, and he is dressed in the costume of a South American priest... You expected he to be "a little bit smaller.".. And in real life, even from afar, it is huge.. And how did he even find such a huge outfit.. Did he sew 2-3 priests to make it??🤨🤨 Who knows. You took several photos at once, but forgot to turn off the flash... And here are the promised ass adventures... Spec immediately turned around and looked right at you, grinning like some kind of huge predator... You hit the gas right away, leaving... BUT FUCK!!! ABRUPTLY, YOUR CAR SHUDDERED AND STOPPED!!! This is still our waifu - Spec 🛐🛐🛐 He just grabbed your car and stopped it, and then HE OPENED THE DOOR OF YOUR CAR WITH ONE SHARP MOVEMENT OF HIS HAND, AND BENT SLIGHTLY OVER YOU!!! Close , he is even more huge, terrifying and muscular (I'm sure that up close his big, muscular bubs are even bigger- OH, sorry to think out loud, let's continue) He loomed over you like a wall, and grinned at your nervous , frightened face. While you're shaking and trying to come up with an excuse TO AT LEAST SURVIVE!!!

- Spec : oohhh...Who do I see here?.. What a cute lamb~ Did you take a picture of me because you thought I looked cool or cute? ~

You, sweating nervously , trembling and pressing into your car seat, prayed to all the gods , and somehow answered

- You: No... No, no.. ha.... I have a little problem with my eyesight... That's why I didn't notice you, I'm sorry.. I'm dumb.. Uh.... Well... I actually took pictures of this beautiful view.. Haha... ha..

You somehow squeezed out these words, and barely smiled, through fear and the desire to live. And Spec giggled like a giant child, and hearing the sounds of a police siren a few milliseconds he leaned as close to you as possible , and with his huge palm ruffled your soft hair , turning it into a mess and leaving for the police , he finally told you

- Spec : I will definitely see you again, adorable doll !

And you, in shock, sat in your driver's seat for a couple more minutes, with disheveled hair and looked into everything , thinking about how stupid your recent act was, closed the car door and drove home. Wash it all down with beer and make a new article about recent events..

｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

You were sitting in a "family" cafe (a family cafe, as far as I read and saw in travel blogs something like this: grandma cooks food, mother delivers food, and children wash dishes, etc..) and came up with a title for the finished article... "An escaped psychopathic murderer attacked a boy"...? "an escaped murderer in a priest's costume committed an attack"...? You wondered for a long time until someone touched you on the shoulder.

- cute waitress: Excuse me.. We're already closing, so could you leave..?

You calmly nod, put your laptop in your bag and leave. You walk calmly to your house, humming something to yourself and looking at your feet. Suddenly you hear someone calling out to you... And you're surrounded by something like a biker gang.

- Biker 1 : Hey ... Shall we take a ride? ~

They smell so strongly of alcohol... Which makes me feel sick.. You shake your head negatively and try to leave as they are already jumping off their Bikes, and a couple have already taken out knives and moved towards you. Someone grabbed you from behind so you wouldn't move.

- Biker 2 : Come on guys, take off these clothes-....! LET'S GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!!!!

each of them immediately got on their bikes and drove away so that you could smell the burnt rubber...A HUGE shadow hung over you, and you heard, unfortunately, a familiar voice and the smell of cigarette smoke.

- Spec: Doll, you better not go out so late. Ah~ It's good that I walked through this beautiful area, and I came up on time.

You turn around , and already you automatically jump back in surprise , still slightly afraid of Spec , but less strongly. And you see that Spec is standing behind you as if nothing had happened, and smoking with a smirk looking at you.

- You: eh...?! I thought you were arrested.. You ran away ???!!?

Spec burst out laughing, and with a grin bent down to your eye level (for this he had to bend almost twice)

- Spec : No, I'm just walking around this area, as I said, it's just so peaceful here.

You nod knowingly, and Spec leans against the nearest wall, still smoking.

- You: Uh... I'm sorry for asking this, but why did you come to Tokyo ...? 🤨🤨

- Spec : Bhahaha!! For what? I came here to taste defeat, doll~

He spoke with some pride , grinning even wider and watching your reaction. Meanwhile , you 're thinking a little puzzled .

- You : sorry, just thinking out loud... But, do you want to lose, because for too long you have been the coolest and strongest, and you want new events in life ...?

Spec raises an eyebrow in surprise, clearly slightly shocked that someone other than professional fighters can understand him, and soon smiles broadly, with a cigarette in his mouth and pats you on the shoulder, nodding.

- You: Well... I have to go home, otherwise the article won't write itself, huh..good night to you..!

You wave your hand at him with an awkward smile, and turn around and run away to your home, and Spec looks at your back, thinking "why is such a cute lamb still lonely...Maybe I'll make some "changes" in her life too, heheh.."

｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

After your meeting with Spec, your life went on as usual, you continued to work... I wrote articles.. Sometimes I drank at home after work... But, to all this, a strange feeling has arisen in you .. It's like someone is watching you day and night.. Even when you changed your apartment.. House.. And even the housing area, you still felt like you were being watched... And even, sometimes your little trinkets went missing ! Perhaps you are winding yourself up as recently Several shocking events happened at once... And these things are just in the laundry basket, or somewhere else... You can't have such an inconspicuous stalker, can you....?

｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

One night, you were sleeping as usual... Hugging your dakimakura with your beloved (2-d man or 2-d woman, I do not know what your tastes are... But I would like a dakimakura with Spec or with Lisa Lisa from JJBA \_(ツ)_/) as usual, you didn't dream anything/ had some dreams, and you just slept... Well, what could possibly go wrong?! But you're awake. From the smell of food, and from the fact that your dakimakura is being torn out of your hands and thrown aside. You wake up right away, because who dared to do such a thing?! And you already see your "friend" Spec. He's sitting on the edge of your bed, and there's a slightly offended expression on his face , and he 's clutching a package from some 24/7 restaurant in his free hand , which smelled very good. And with his free hand he is... He grabbed your face , pulling you closer to him.

- Spec in a clearly deliberately offended tone: Doll... Why do you need this "pillow" if you have me?? ;)

He pulled you towards him, clearly ignoring that you were squirming, twitching, and trying to call for help. And slightly lifting up the bag of food , he says .

- Spec : heeyyy ~ My dear lamb, let's put aside these indignations of yours, and eat steamed buns? And I bet I'm a lot better than that "pillow" of yours that you hug every night~

THE END!!!!

I'm sorry if it turned out too badly, this is the first time I'm writing something based on the original character, if you didn't like it very much, throw slippers at me. Well, or tanks , which is convenient for you. Thank you so much for reading >3 I will be grateful for the assessment and constructive criticism in the comments >3< I love you all 💋💋

[ripdragonbeans]

Shakespeare In Love - Part 1

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT // 18+

Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Your best friend Helaena and her older brother Aegon decides to surprise you with a blind date on your winter break with her younger brother, Aemond. Two Shakespeare nerds form a strong friendship but is there more? (The answer is yes)

Warnings: Fluff, angst later, POSSIBLE smut later???

Thank you @theold-ultraviolence and @sapphire-writes for being my beta readers! (I hope I used that correctly lol)

Ever since the accident, Aemond knew he was different. That everybody stared at him with curiosity and fear. Usually the latter. With a jagged scar running over his face, and a dazzling sapphire in the other. It’s no wonder to him why they gave him those looks.

Aemond sighed, slid his hands into the pockets of his black leather jacket, and braced himself against the cold wind that would hit him as soon as he walked out the door. He was on his way to meet up with his brother and sister, Helaena and Aegon. Surprisingly, they met someone whom they both agreed that they needed to introduce to Aemond.

He still didn't really know why he accepted the invitation. Well, he did, but was confused as to what was the why. At first he agreed to meet up because Helaena put on a pouty face and begged him to. Then Aegon kept pestering the hell out of him, constantly texting him and sending annoying ass Snapchats. But as the day to the meeting creeped closer Aemond couldn't help but feel curious, hopeful even, that there might be someone else to talk to.

Aemond was quiet; he studied hard and put all his energy into his work, but didn't have company outside his family and close family friends.

He picked up his pace to get to the cafe faster, the blistering wind slapping him in the face. Thankfully, he got there without freezing his ass off. Aemond entered the cafe and was instantly welcomed by a cozy warmth and the smell of coffee. He barely had time to take in a deep breath when Helaena called out to him.

"Aems! Over here!" She shouted. Well, not really shouted. Helaena never raised her voice above her usual delicate tone but Aemond could hear her anywhere if she was calling to him.

Aemond gave a soft smile to his sister and rolled his eyes at Aegon, seeing him sprawled over the table, most likely feeling the effects of a hangover. Aemond quickly got his black coffee before joining his siblings at the table. 

"I'm so excited for you to meet Y/N, she's an absolute sweetheart!" Helaena exclaimed in a sing-song voice. She leaned closer to Aemond and gave him a sly smile, "and she has a very soft spot for Shakespeare."

Aegon groaned without lifting his head. "Did you seriously just say something about Shakespeare?" 

"Be quiet and be nice when she gets here," scolded Helaena. 

This time, Aegon rose, putting on the grandest voice he could muster. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much."

Helaena glared at Aegon while Aemond closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He couldn't help himself, he had to correct him. "While the sentiment is the same, that line is frequently misquoted. The correct line is actually -"

"'The lady doth protests too much, methinks.' said by Hamlet's mother from Hamlet."

Aemond's eyes went wide as he saw the girl who finished the sentence for him. She was right behind him, how did he not notice?

She gave Aemond a shy smile. "Hi, I'm Helaena's friend, Y/N. And I guess I'm Aegon's friend, too."

A high pitched squeal erupted next to Aemond. Helaena never makes such sound unless she’s extremely excited. She shot up from her chair and nearly tackled Y/N.”

"I can't believe you made it!"

"Of course I made it, you know I always pull through for you.”

Helaena pulled out of the hug but kept her arm around her best friend.

“And I'm not proud to admit it, but Aegon did help a bit with easing the nervousness of meeting up with…" 

Y/N's eyes locked in on Aemond. She had never seen a guy so beautiful and it made her heart flutter a bit. His silver hair fell down just below his shoulders. Against his all black attire his hair and his eye beckoned her attention. 

Eye. Only one. A vibrant violet eye, but still only one. In place of the other eye was a black eyepatch that sculpted his face perfectly. What the eyepatch didn’t cover, however, was the angry scar that marred his face.  

"Meeting up with you. Yeah, hi, um… I'm Y/N. Sorry, I already said that when I interrupted your conversation. I just get really excited about Shakespeare, you know? And there's so much of his work to digest and analyze and his work is so prevalent even today and can really help actors because his work is just beautiful and -- shit, I'm rambling aren't I?"

Aemond couldn't help but smile at her babbling. It wasn't every day that he came across someone who gets as excited over Shakespeare as him. Even though it was brief, he noticed how Y/N's eyes lit up when she mentioned Shakespeare. He could tell she was nervous but her passion covered anything that suggested otherwise.

“Y/N is here for a few weeks on her winter break. Initially it was just gonna be me and her but then Aegon brought up that our fellow sibling might need a new friend,” Helaena explained. 

Y/N reached out her hand to Aemond. “Once again, I’m Y/N. I’m going to assume you’re the famous, brooding sibling your brother and sister talk so highly of.”

Aemond went to run a hand through his long silver hair. Y/N watched him, completely entranced by his beauty. Y/N knew she was fucked. She knew she was fucked when she interupted their conversaion and laid eyes on him.

“Yeah, I’m Aemond,” he took her hand and gave her a little shake. “Glad to know my brother and sister speak so highly of me to others,” he chuckled.

Y/N’s eyes went wide. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, no that's not what I meant. I meant that they talk about you a lot and I think you're interesting and oh shit." She proceeded to flop her face on Helaena's shoulder while her best friend patted her head.

Aegon grinned at Aemond. "See? She's just your type. Rambling and all."

A muffled noise came from Helaena's shoulder.

"Y/N's right. Shut up, Aegon."

Aemond looked at his siblings and then her, Y/N. He awkwardly coughed to break the tension. 

"So…uh…" Aemond had no idea what to say in this situation so he blurted out the first thing that darted through his mind. 

"Ya like jazz?" Silence fell as Aemond registered what he said. "God fucking dammit," he immediately snapped his head to Aegon. "Shut the fuck up, Aegon."

"Seriously? That's the first thing you say to someone? 'Ya like jazz?' from the Bee movie?" Aegon was almost falling out of his chair from laughing too hard.

Aemond was too focused on trying not to punch his brother in the face that he didn't notice Y/N had lifted her face from Helaena's shoulder and softly giggled with her.

“Okay, I’m not gonna lie, that definitely caught my attention, and in a good way,” laughed Y/N. “Really, it’s a nice break from my stream of consciousness.”

Aemond turned to look at Y/N and gave her a small smile. His face now had a tint of color and went down the sides of his neck. 

“Glad to be of service, then,” he said, almost giving a theatrical bow before deciding against it. Instead, he opted for a cheeky wink.

Aemond and Y/N locked eyes and for a moment it was just them. A violet eye meeting warm brown ones. 

“And I think that’s our cue to leave, Aeg,” muttered Helaena. She knew Aemond and Y/N would hit it off, but not this quickly.

Aegon clapped Aemond on the back. “Okay, little bro. Have fun on your date!”

Aemond snapped his eye to Aegon and Y/N to Helaena.

“I’m sorry, a date?” Y/N asked Helaena.

“Yeah…sorry, Y/N. But you know you need to go out more, especially after that... incident, and, well, here’s my solution to that. You can’t stay cooped up in your apartment by yourself all the time.” Helaena looked at Y/N and then Aemond. “Both of you.”

Y/N drew in a deep breath then turned to Aemond.

“I’ll give it a shot if you do.”

[velvetnviolentviolets]

Get To Know The Author

name : Kay

pronouns :  she/her

preference of communication : Honestly I have a huge preference for discord. I don't trust tumblr IM to actually alert me. Ive recently learned tumblr has been eating my asks too. If I don't reply to an ask or DM me PLEAS reach out to me. I will NEVE outright ignore something. If I don't think something is going to work for our muses I will reach out to you. 

most active muse :  Kat is my loudest and most demanding. After that would be Her brother Kass, Feyre, and then our spotty maybe I'm here maybe I'm not - Emmett.  

experience / how many years : Ohhh boy. I've been doing the rp thing off and on since 2010. There was a five year chunk in recent years where I disappeared for a bit but the lovely @sharpayevcns pulled me back in a few months ago and I am so appreciative that she did. <3 

best experience : Discovering the people here that make me feel safe enough to obsess over threads. You guys have absolutely made my return to tumblr. If I were to delete my blog with nothing but my connection with you guys to show for it - Well I would be absolutely fine with that. You guys are amazing and will absolutely be tagged in this. 

rp pet peeves : I keep running into situations where I get heavily invested in plotting something (Drawing, writing head cannons, making playlists, planning cannon events. . .I literrally brushed up on a whole ass language for a plot) Only to have those people completely leave me on read. I am not a pushy partner in the least. I would be more than happy to wait a month for a reply. But I need communication. I need feedback if something doesn't sit right for you. I need reciprocated enthusiasm. You don't have to show It the same way I do but I need some show of enthusiasm otherwise it just feels uncomfortable and I feel annoying and restrained. That's not what I'm here for. I've honestly made the decision to start unfollowing people based on a three strikes basis. No hard feelings. I just don't want to follow anyone who doesn't bring the same energy I do. 

fluff, angst, or smut :ALL OF IT! While I'm becoming more and more selective about who I write smut with I LOVE writing smut ESPECIALLY if its born of post Angst fluff. Actually almost exclusively. There is nothing that gets my muses motor going like post Angst Fluff! 

plots or memes : Augh! Don't make me pick. I love Plotting but sometimes nothing really gets the juices flowing like memes do. I cant tell you how many times a simple meme interaction help set a pivotal point in a plot. ALSO- Memes are usually what help me forego my shy nature. While my muse outwardly gives NONE of the Ducks. . .I do . I give all of the Ducks so memes help  me loosen up. I'm not responsible for the haphazard neuroSpicy creature you meet once the shyness has fallen away. You've been warned.

long or short replies : It depends on my mood and attention span. There is a Adderall shortage right now so I have only been taking my Adderall on work days so Ive had a VERY hard time focusing o replies as of late. When Im on top of my Game I am LONGWINDED AF .Please don't ever feel like you have to match me because there are times where I will write you a novel and we were only supposed to be writing a sentence or two. It just happens and Im sorry.  time to write : Ha! um . . . Well I work Graveyard  Thursday- Saturday from 8PM-9:30ish AM (PST)  On slow nights I do write here and there but for the most part I can be found here pretty sporadically. If I have something going on during my weekend that I have to be a daytime person for then ill be up during the day time. OTHERWISE- Mostly evening and spooky hours . 

are you like your muses : I could draw some parallels with each of them but I dont think I am like any of them. 

tagged by: The Alluring  @wynterlanding ~<3

@grimmusings @sharpayevcns @godccmplex <3

[musefictions]

2023 Writing Wrap-Up

I shook things up this year and recorded my writing process each month of this year- everything I wrote, edited, submitted to a literary magazine, or got published. So I got some stats for you today!

Everything I wrote:

13 short fiction/flash fiction pieces, 3 poems, and 1 creative nonfiction piece, for a total of 17.

These are the finished ones (I have a notebook full of scraps of lines or paragraphs that came to me that never turned into anything.) There are several that just didn't work out and I'm not pursuing them, at least for now.

Short fiction rejections:

A whopping 47! *air horns*

Short Fiction Publications:

3! (I had 4 acceptances, but we'll get to that.)

The Most Inaccurate Map in the World came out this February in Screen Door Review!

Logline: A mother newly living out of her car tries to turn the situation into an adventure for her daughter.

Imitates Life is coming out around February 2024 in The Gateway Review!

Logline: Sculptor whose creations come to life attempts to make the perfect man. This goes just as awry as you might expect.

When to Tell Your Date You're the Chupacabra is coming out in January 2024 in Over/Exposed!

...Yeah, this one is exactly what it sounds like from the title.

It got accepted by two places at the same time. This was the fastest any of my works have been picked up- I drafted it in October, two months before it was accepted.

Favorite thing I wrote:

Wet, Crooked Colt, which is about two people on the ace spectrum navigating sex. (You bet your ass I named a story Wet, Crooked Colt.)

The runner-ups are Chupacabra, which you'll see soon, and an unpublished short story that I hope will be published in 2024 (I don't like revealing much about unpublished things, but you best believe I will not shut up about them once they're out.)

When I sat down to think about why these three are my favorites, my conclusion was that they feel the most raw and honest. This year, a lot of personal experiences crept into my work, and I didn't shy away from more personal topics in general.

They also mark my style starting to change!

None of these feel like traditional Jenna stories. I look at them and think, "I made that?" It's a weird sensation. (I ended up disliking the stories I wrote this year that did feel more like traditional Jenna stories.) I've been getting weirder ideas and experimenting more with form, and instead of choppy sentences, I bounced to the other stylistic extreme and now I'm into run-ons. I love this direction and the feeling that I'm in a new era!

How I feel about my writing year:

Mixed.

I miss having a long project like a novel or novella. Lately my writing process has been like, "get an idea, get excited that I have an idea, write and edit it within the span of a few days, finish it and be sad about it."

It wasn't so much lack of motivation I struggled with this year but lack of inspiration. Maybe it's lingering effects of burnout since I had a lot of big life events (mostly good things! I graduated and started the first job I actually like! but still burnout-inducing things!)

On the plus side: this was the year I started seriously submitting to magazines, and I'm BEYOND excited about the publications. I have a much better idea of the theme tying my collection together, and I feel like the collection is taking shape.

I'm sending good vibes for 2024! If anyone has publications or snippets you want to hype up, drop them in the comments below- I'd love to check them out!

[villanesus]

writers asks: 1, 6, 9, 11, 25, 30, 40, 48, 58, 69, 92, 94, 99.

I honestly would like to hear all your answers put i picked my favorite questions.

Pistachio!! Sooo many questions, I'll do my best.

1. do you know how you want the story to end when you start, or are you just stumbling through the figurative wilderness hoping to find a road?

I usually know where I want my characters to end up, but that doesn't always equate to a proper ending. Endings have always been hard for me to articulate. As a kid in school, I got feedback from a primary school teacher once that I needed to include something at the end of my stories to indicate that it was really the conclusion. My autistic ass starting ending every single story I wrote with the sentence, "And that is all." 😂

6. do you have any kind of consistent writing schedule or just hoping for the best?

Not really. I write when I've got a decent chunk of time open (at least an hour) and I'm feeling writery feelings. Some nights, most weekends. During nanowrimo I write during my lunch break, mostly out of necessity to meet word count.

9. in an ideal world where you’re already super successful and published, would you want to see a tv or movie adaptation of your work? why or why not?

I'd be pretty content just to be successfully published, BUT I'm definitely not turning down an opportunity for Jodie Comer to option one of my books for a TV series a la Big Swiss so I can meet her and be awkward. 🥴

11. what’s something neat you’ve learned while doing research for something you were writing? also, how much do you worry about doing research in general?

I do worry quite a bit about research because I know how jarring it can be as the reader when an author writes something that is pure nonsense wrt something I know about. That said, I don't always know what I don't know, so I'm sure I miss all kinds of things.

The neatest thing I've ever stumbled upon is escaping me right now, but the most recent thing that sticks out was stumbling upon the gem of the towns Sappho and Beaver near Forks for my goosey Killing Eve/Twilight AU (Evenfall). I found that far too funny.

25. what’s your revision or rewriting process like?

I usually start each writing session be rereading the last section I've written and I catch a lot of edits there. Once I'm reasonably confident about a full chapter, I actually listen to it twice using a text-to-speech feature. I find I catch a lot more of my mistakes when I listen than when I read with my eyes.

And then I immediately find like three more mistakes as soon as I share or publish what I've written. Because of course.

30. most inspirational quote you’ve ever read or heard that’s still important to you.

I'm (perhaps weirdly) not big on inspiration or inspirational quotes. And, as noted in one of the other ask games, I'm a little bit of a jerk? So, my favorite quote is actually the running bit in Candide by Voltaire where they make fun of the "best of all possible worlds" philosophy. You will catch me in real life regularly punching down on things by saying, "In this, the best of all possible worlds." I guess this jives with my "things suck, bring a bat" philosophy.

40. best piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.

I had a computer science professor who took me aside once and told me I should write textbooks because students would actually engage with and learn from my writing. I really like to explain and to teach, so this was maximum flattery for me.

At the moment, though, there's a person who is mostly commenting screaming and keyboard smashes on Evenfall and I'm really enjoying that. 🤣

48. do you reread your own stories?

Not once they're finished. I read and reread as part of my editing process, by the end I'm a bit sick of it. And if too much time goes by and I come back to read, my style/voice/skill has changed and then I feel sad-cringe about my older work.

58. what is the last thing that a fic made you google when you were writing it?

"which movie did edward and bella have sex?" 🫠 hahaha

69 (nice). how do you write emotional scenes? do you ever feel what the characters feel?

I find this challenging because I want to shout at the characters to do the "right" thing and not necessarily the authentic emotional response that they would have? For example, character is going to misunderstand and be hurt or character is angry and won't listen to apology—it kills me to write that sometimes.

The how...eh, I just write stuff and step back and see if it feels authentic. I try to draw from my own experiences and emotions, but can't always tell how well that translates for others because my emotional processing is maybe non-typical as a non-neurotypical individual.

92. first, second, or third person?

Third person is typically my jam as a reader and a writer, though I do love me some unreliable narrator first-person works. My big struggle as a writer is the different flavors of third person—omniscient, objective, partial/limited. I'm bad at consistency here.

94. do you prefer dialogue or description?

Dialogue is really fun for me to write. My favorite thing though is internal monologue? Perhaps a side effect of all the journaling.

99. was being a writer a dream of yours when you were little? or did it spring up when your older? or is it just a hobby?

I've been writing stories since I was a little kid and I've always loved the idea of just being a novelist or writer. But I am both pessimistic and pragmatic. I doubt I'd be happy if writing was my full-time job—making a living on this would be too much pressure. It's a lovely hobby and if I ever write something that other people are excited to read, I'll just be real chuffed about it.

Phew, we made it to the end!

[short-circuit-the-great]

You Didn't Ask And I Answered: A Long Ass Post, Part 1

Questions are from this post. It is an ask game. I answered every single one unprompted. If anyone actually reads this post I will be impressed.

do you know how you want the story to end when you start, or are you just stumbling through the figurative wilderness hoping to find a road? It depends on the story. For all of my fics, I know the ending. For a lot of my books, I know the ending. For one particular project I am thinking of right now, I'm making that shit up as I go.

talk about a notable time a narrative or character has looked you dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing.” SPIDERSILK SAMURAI. FUCKING SPIDERSILK SAMURAI. Pulled out so much hair over that fic. I'm proud of it but none of the characters stuck to the outline I had.

on a scale of 1-10 how much do you enjoy incorporating romance into the average story? 10, but it's a very specific kind of romance. They need lots of time, they have to have lots of banter going on, and some other stuff I can't put a name to. Read my shit, there's a very specific way I write romance.

what is the plot bunny you’ve been carrying for the longest? optional bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven’t written it yet and experience deep existential dread? I don't know what a "plot bunny" is.

have you ever made a playlist about something you were writing as an elaborate means to procrastinate when you could have been actually writing and if yes drop a link, son Crossfire's playlist

do you have any kind of consistent writing schedule or just hoping for the best? I write every day.

tell us about the plot of the first fanfic you ever wrote Immortal being reflects on life and death.

what’s your relationship with constructive criticism and feedback like? do you seek it out? how well do you take it? Don't like it.

in an ideal world where you’re already super successful and published, would you want to see a tv or movie adaptation of your work? why or why not? TV show. Animated.

at what point in the process do you come up with titles, and how easy or hard is that for you? Early. Fairly easy.

what’s something neat you’ve learned while doing research for something you were writing? also, how much do you worry about doing research in general? I look things up as needed.

do you ever have trouble focusing on writing? how do you get around that?  No.

talk about a writing experience that has pleasantly surprised you. No idea what this question means.

what’s your worst writing habit?  Can't proofread.

where do you share your writing? AO3.

where is your favorite place to write? Library.

what is your favorite line you’ve ever written? "It won’t be the same, but I’ll keep you close forever, and we can run along the river in our memories, hearts and souls entwined."

what is your most and least favorite part of writing? Like writing fights. Hate proofreading.

what are some books or authors that influenced your style the most? Masashi Kishimoto, Akira Toriyama, Hideaki Sorachi, Hirohiko Araki, Chris Bradford, Chris d'Lacey, Jeff Kinney, others I am forgetting.

what is your favorite trope to write? Found family.

pick a writer to co-write a book with and tell us what you’d write about. @mecha-milkers and I would write about unspeakable cosmic horrors.

describe your writing process from scratch to finish. Hallucinate, fight god, black out, stare at the finished product, hit post.

how do you deal with writers block? Change the last sentence and move on.

on average, how much writing do you get done in a day? Several pages if not many. Not counting.

what’s your revision or rewriting process like? You guys revise? The first draft is the only draft. I have been reworking some of my older stuff (books) but don't have a process for it.

do you like to write one-shots or series, and why? Series, more time to develop stuff.

do you share rough drafts or do you wait until it’s all polished? 28. And who do you share them with? I share them with friends.

handwritten notes or typed notes? Keep notes in brain.

give us a spoiler for one of your stories. Bad guy helps good guy.

most inspirational quote you’ve ever read or heard that’s still important to you. "Let me tell you something you already know. The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows. It's a very mean and nasty place and I don't care how tough you are--it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain't about how hard you hit. It's about how hard you can GET hit and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward. That's how winning is done."

tell us about one of your characters who’s an absolute joy to write Kusunoki Masashi from Our Samurai Souls--he's been through it all but still keeps his head up.

do characters influence your writing style? Yeah they running the whole thing.

do you start with the characters or the plot when writing? They come together, they tell me what to write. Half the time they're the ones writing it.

how do you name characters and places? They tell me their names, they tell me their world.

tell us about a character who’s very different than you who you love a whole lot Yuki from Our Samurai Souls. Despite what he's been through it's very peaceful in his head.

do you base your characters of real people or not? If so, tell us about one. I have a character in one of my old books (not a fanfic) that is based on someone I've heard a lot about but never met. I drew a lot of inspiration from the descriptions and stories I've heard to create this guy.

when creating characters, what comes first: appearance, backstory, motivation, personality, something else? They come in as whole people, I don't know how to explain it. Aside from a few cases (see above) I've never sat down and thought about making a character. They come to me.

how many stories do you work on at one time? Five to ten.

are you an avid reader? I try, it is hard for me.

best piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten. See earlier about "I don't like feedback."

[poifect]

frustrated 12/4/22

let’s go backwards

I just got home from going bowling with my family and their friends...

I saw my best friend’s story of her and other girl friends going out in their cute ass fits and make up and the only thing I wanted more than anything was to look as good and hangout with the hot girl group :’( But I couldn’t because I was with my family and we were going home and that was that. I don’t have the option to do things at my own choosing. It has to have had consultation from everyone I’ve ever met in my life and their grandmothers blessings.

I thought about if I had no rules and no one’s opinion to consider, the only thing I wanted to do was to go out with my bestie and her friends and be a hot girl and have jun flaunting being a hot girl. 

Yet, here I was in the back of the family SUV almost at our one way road and I knew I had no choice. I had no control. If it wasn’t my mom, it would be my boyfriend. Which is the perfect segue to transport us to a conversation a few hours ago...

“Okay I have to tell you something and uhhh **** called me at 6 in the morning today because she was in the hospital from being drugged at Ricks last night. Of course I wasn’t awake at that time to answer the call, but she texted me and said she was hospitalized. I hope you’re not mad.”

Here’s a question for you reader: Would you have thought that entire situation would have made me mad? Do you think I would be mad about that? Why the fuck would I be mad about that? Unless you fucking roofied the girl yourself.?

I said that exact sentence to him and he said why am I acting like this? My voice and tone are being mean. “Bulgan, why are you being like this? 

Excuse me, what do you mean, sir?

So I try to pull myself together and just mutter things like okay and sure. After quite a few roundabouts in the conversation world, we seem to be making headway for wrapping this conversation, and I say “ I am glad she’s home and I’m glad she’s okay”. “Are you sure?”

Another question for the reader, would you have answered that as “Yeah, me too” rather than “Are you sure”. SO you’re probably thinking holy shit she wouldn’t want this girl to be okay? Jesus something really bad must’ve happened and this girl wants revenge. 

(Un) Fortunately nothing of that sort has happened. Although maybe it has. It is pretty unclear.

But because I’m writing this, I’ll tell you my side. This girl who’s 7 years younger than my partner has been in love with him and has wanted to use every single use to contact him and to have him by her side. He has. Because they’re good friends. But I think her motive is much more than just friends. But my partner apparently just doesn’t see it. In his eyes, it’s just this nice friend needing his help for the most ridiculous things like borrowing a pencil for her exam that she’s running late to or having him create a playlist blend together because he simply did not enough about metal rock!!! “WHAT? YOU’RE 27 AND DON’T KNOW ABOUT ROCKKK???? NO WAY I AM SO YOUNG AND I LOVE ROCK. IT MAKES ME SUPER FUCKING UNIQUE AND I AM JUST SO DIFFERENT FROM EVERYONE ELSE! WE SHOULD WATCH BREAKING FUCKING BAD CAUSE IT’S THE LONGEST SHOW ON EARTH WHICH MEANS I CAN SPEND AS MUCH TIME WITH YOU AS FUCKING POSSIBLE.”

“uh ok yeah sure dude whatever I’m high”

That is a snippet of how I imagine their interaction goes. But also I have no fucking idea and perhaps my partner lets go on things more than he says he does. 

Final question, but in 2 parts.

1. Would you be reaching out to a guy friend you haven’t really talked to in a few months who has a gf, at 6am, saying you’re at the hospital?

1.a. If so, why would you? unless...?

1.a.b.If you’re the author’s partner, what do you make of this? Would you not be suspect that this girl really needs and likes you? Wouldn’t you want to make it clear that is not the case since you’ve clearly found your soulmate that she shouldn’t really think of him as her emergency contact??? 

1.a.b.c LOL idk how the sub labels work but idgaf. Wouldn’t you be updating your partner as these messages and calls are arriving? Not continuing talking to this female (lol I purposely chose female smd) and then telling your partner 8 hours later and somehow still making it her fault?

2. I don’t remember.

I am sad and I feel trapped without any choice in my life. 

Goodnight, strangers. 

My bf is asleep and not talking to me in the evening hours because somehow he just accidentally goes to bed without knowing how tired he is. 

Fuck this shit. 

I am drunk and high writing out my feelings. yay. 

go 25 me :P

suck my fucking asshole and suck my fucking clitoris. 

[everythingismadeofchaos]

Okay: I'm doing it again. This is my absolute 100% guaranteed cure for writer's block.

Have you ever had a pull start mower or something that wouldn't start? You know how it gets kind of exhausting to yank the cord over and over again? This is like cheating by doing it with a drill. Work the bad gas through the system and get it running again.

So here's what you do. I take an edible for this; I'm a lightweight so it's not much, but you can do it or you can just not do it. Whatever works for you.

You're trying to do your best and write well. You don't want to be like some hack, some idiot who can't write for shit, who only writes garbage; like yourself 10 years ago for example. I'm sure you've had the same experiences I have looking back at your older work and just being terribly embarrassed. Anybody can write garbage. You want to be a real writer.

But that's just it. Anybody can write garbage. So just write some garbage. Really just do a bunch of word vomit all over the page. This isn't going to rise to the level of a first draft. Hell, it barely even has to be legible. A cheat that I learned because it's so hard for me to write while I'm using edibles is to use voice typing to actually put the words down, and then using a separate device, like you can use a GoPro or an old phone that you have that still works but doesn't function as a phone, you record the audio of the whole session. You're not after good stuff, you're after volume. It's a little bit like drilling a core sample through a bunch of useless rock to figure out where the diamonds are.

Ignore punctuation, capitalization, and spelling, unless you have to go back and change it for clarity; the point is to go back as little as possible, to just keep barging forward. You don't want to go; you want to hurtle. You don't want flawless and shiny and streamlined; you want junky and with character and little parts are falling off. Star Wars nerds will know what the word "greeblies" means. Write a mess.

And just keep going. Go for bulk. What the fuck? You say. Nobody would read this. Why would anybody read this? This is garbage. But no, that's exactly the assignment. Your assignment is to just write bulk, stream of consciousness nonsensical claptrap. Write your ass off. Produce as much as you can. Do not stop and do not look back unless the words you're writing are illegible. If you're choosing to use pen and ink, just make sure you can decipher them later. If your voice to text totally garbles the sentence, go back and change it, but only enough so that you know what it says. One thing I find helpful is that if you're doing fantasy stuff change the names of your characters from things like "T'Pol", which is not in any spelling dictionary that I'm aware of, to something like "depaul", which is just what this thing wrote when I was trying to say that word. Then make a note to substitute later and keep barging forward.

Just write like crazy. Then later, you'll have a recovery. Where you get to rest. (Ha! I just typed "... you'll have a recovery period where ..." and that's what it gave me. This is what I'm talking about. You know what it says.) Don't worry about real clarity, your audience is yourself.

You know what else anybody can do? Anybody can criticize. And that's you. Go back later and criticize. Sift through the whole thing looking for gemstones. Don't worry, this is just practice. Muhammad Ali never worried about a single push-up; he just made sure he did a gajillion push-ups a day or whatever. Actually I don't know if Muhammad Ali actually did push-ups but you get the idea: he wasn't doing his workouts to impress people with his workouts, he was doing it to make him a better boxer later. The point of this is not to write well or even comprehensively or stay on topic or impress anybody or do anything good; you are literally trying to write masses of garbage to be thrown out later. So if you criticize this body of work that you create during this frenetic creation period and you think "this is garbage", just remember that that was the assignment and go easy on the creator; in fact give them an A+ because that's exactly what they were trying to accomplish.

I guarantee that during this sifting process you will find gems regularly. You will find little ideas, beautiful sentences, interesting word choices that add flavor, entire scenarios you can use, dialogue oh my God especially dialogue, all sorts of little pieces of writing that help you out. Think of it as having a different separate person who you implicitly trust looking over your shoulder and helping you with your writing; that person is you.

Drop all the barriers, divert life support and navigational deflector power to the warp engines and barrel forward. If you hit a speck of dust and the ship explodes then just write it down and keep going. I mean that metaphor was crap but that's kind of what I'm talking about. Don't be afraid to expose yourself to yourself; acknowledge the nonsensicality of this and fear nothing.

Oh, and enjoy the experience. It's fucking great! It's like a mosh pit when you're used to ballroom dancing. Have fun!

Edit: oh hey I forgot something. This is a separate file. It's a separate thing. You create a new document when you do this, or if you write with pen and ink in beautiful notebooks that you personalized yourself, put that aside and get a black and white notebook from the dollar store and write with bic pens. This isn't part of your novel, it isn't part of your "real" work. This is an exercise. It's going to be ugly and it's going to get sweaty and it's not going to fit. You don't have to obey the rules of the sport if you're just running to get better at the sport and the game isn't until next week. Keep it separate.

And keep writing

Me beating my head against the wall cause I'm already past my self-imposed due date on a chapter but writer's block is kicking my ass to next Sunday:

[pankowperfection]

hi i was wondering if you could write a fic where jj and the reader are smoking together at the chateau and there’s a lot of sexual tension so they start flirting and end up having sex?

Up in Smoke (JJ Maybank x Reader)

A/N: This ended up being kinda long, hope you like it!

Warnings: smut, drug use, 18+

As soon as you had met JJ, you two instantly became best friends. You were usually attached at the hip, rather that be throwing back beers at a bonfire, surfing in the afternoon, or smoking together. He usually flirted with you, gazes that made your skin heat up, pulling you to sit on his lap while hanging out with the other Pogues, or holding you down and tickling you. You flirted back too, sliding your hands just a little too high on his thighs, stealing has hats to wear as your own, bending over to flash him your panties. The sexual tension had been building for a while now but still hadn't gone anywhere.

One rainy Saturday, everyone else was busy either working or hanging out on their own leaving you and JJ alone at the Chateau. You were curled up on the couch, legs thrown over his lap with his hands tracing patterns on your skin. He broke the comfortable silence first. "Want to smoke and watch a movie?" "Sure J, sounds good." He stood up and gathered the supplies, returning to the couch to get started. There was something mesmerizing about watching him build a joint. The way his arm muscles flexed as he twisted the grinder, how his ringed fingers looked rolling the paper, the way his tongue darted out to seal the joint. You could feel the wetness growing between your thighs.

He lit the joint and handed it to you first, always a gentleman. You took a deep drag, savoring the flavor. He watched the way your lips around the joint, mind wandering to what they would look like wrapped around his cock. He felt it stirring to life in his shorts just at the mental image. Thankfully you didn't notice, exhaling a large cloud of smoke and handing the joint to him. He took a large pull, holding the smoke in his mouth before blowing it out in rings, trying to show off for you. You continued to pass it back and forth until it was gone, both of you settling into the haziness of your high.

You both returned to your previous positions, JJ reclining on the couch and your legs draped over his, ass pressed against his thighs. He started running his hands up over your legs but this time the sensation was electric, immediately sending bolts of pleasure to your core. His hands roamed higher than before, dangerously close to your pussy. You let out a groan as he just avoided where you wanted him most. "Something wrong sweetheart?" playful look in his eyes. If he wanted to tease, you would too.

"Course not J, just trying to get comfy." You turned yourself around, laying your head down in his lap. Your face was dangerously close to his dick, close enough to have it throbbing in his shorts. You started running your hands up his thighs, just avoiding his cock, then dragging your nails down over his abs before repeating. In no time the tent in his shorts was obvious. He had his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, chest rising and falling quickly with his breaths as he was silently screaming at you to please touch him.

"Fuck it," he exclaims, quickly standing up and dragging you into the bedroom behind him. "J what are you," you didn't get to finish your sentence before his lips were on you. Kissing you harder than anyone had before. You moaned into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. He deepened the kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth as his hands moved to cup your ass. "I've wanted you for so long, can't wait anymore," his voice is husky with need, almost sounding like a groan. "Take me J, I'm yours."

He starts kissing you again, walking you backwards until you fall onto his bed. He kisses down your neck, somehow quickly finding your sweet spot and sucking a large bruise into it. You are a moaning mess beneath him, trying to grind against him for some relief. Every sensation is intensified from the weed, even simple touches spreading fire through your veins. You yank his shirt over his head, hands caressing down over the taut skin, admiring how beautiful his body is. When you reach his v lines he moans loudly, loving how your nails feel on him.

Your shirt and bra come off next as he leans down to give each of your nipples some licks and tugs with his teeth. He kisses a blazing path down to your shorts, silently asking for permission to continue. "J please." you're desperate for him to touch you. He slides your shorts down your legs, finding no panties underneath. He groans at the sight of your wet pussy, practically inviting him to dive in. He licks a slow stripe up the center, wanting to savor the taste of you. "Mmm y/n, tastes even better than I imagined. So sweet." Immediately he goes back to devouring you, flicking your clit just right as he slides two fingers inside.

When you start to tense and clench around him, he pulls away causing you to cry out. "I can't wait anymore baby, need to feel you around me." He lines up his aching cock with your entrance, slowly pushing in so you can feel each inch. You moan out his name, nails clawing into his back as he finally slides all the way in. He sets the perfect pace, slow enough to savor it but fast enough to have you ready to cum in minutes. Every thrust perfectly hitting your walls, his pelvis rubbing your clit. He rests his forehead against yours, pulling your arms above your head and entwining his hands together with yours. "Fuck J, I'm so close." "Me too baby girl, cum together. Yeah?" He reaches one hand down to rub your clit, knowing it will push you over the edge. You explode around him, orgasm triggering his as you milk him dry. The high you just reached way better than one smoking could give you.

He collapses on top of you, both sweaty and needing to catch your breath. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asks, worried about going too hard. "No JJ, that was perfect. Can't believe we didn't do that sooner." You cuddled together under the sheets, listening to the rain as he softly stroked your back. "So y/n, do you want to be mine?" he pauses to pull back and look into your eyes. "Of course J, I already was yours." You seal the deal with a kiss before falling asleep.

@adventuresinobx @hoebx @starkeyobx @ailee-celeste @jjmaybank63

[royalty-unknown]

Hi! I’m hoping that you’re having a really good day! I really love your writing and you’re absolutely amazing! I was wondering if I could request Cg Eddie & Chrissy with little reader. I was wondering if they could protect the reader who was being bullied by Jason and his friends, and she accidentally slips? Sorry if this doesn’t make sense 💕

Cg!Eddie Munson x Cg!Chrissy Cunnigham x little!reader

Requested by: @autisticbeauty 

WARNINGS!!: Bullying, Shouting, Pushing, and shoving, name calling, Cursing, Crying, Kicking, Polly relationship, Pouring milk. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! Thank you~ 

Hi my little dove! Thank you for this request! I have done something similar with Gareth and Eddie but I feel like this one will be better considering the relationship between Chrissy and Jason! ( Chrissy being a cheerleader and Jason being a basketball player and that they both sit at the same table!) Thank you again, Love you <3 

Y/n, Eddie, and Chrissy were together after Chrissy left Jason for them both, she still sat at the table with him but that was it. Everyone knew that he and Chrissy aren’t together and shortly after both Eddie and Chrissy started dating they volunteered to be your Caregivers after finding out accidentally, when you slipped while you were crying at the fact that Jason yelled at you. Jason was furious about chrissy leaving him for as he like to call them ‘A freak and a baby’, He did everything in his power to get back at you both for taking chrissy away from him which only made chrissy mad at the fact that he was upsetting her babies (Eddie doesn’t regress but she still calls him that). But nothing worked until today…

It was your day to sit at Chrissy's table because her and Eddie took turns, And it was supposed to be chill and fun but Jason had other plans. “Hey y/n?” Jason said with a small smirk “yeth?” You tried your best to talk normal “can you get my pencil from under the table its over here I can’t quite reach it” He said, The pencil was right beside him but your little mind didn’t understand what was happening and chrissy would’ve told you no but she got up to throw her water bottle away which the recycle bin was across the cafeteria. “Otay’s” She said getting up and getting on her knees you reach the pencil that was actually under his foot but when you looked down He opened his white milk and poured it on you while laughing like a maniac. Which brought all the attention to him which led to you then everyone started laughing. Except for your mommy, daddy and the hellfire clubs table. You started sobbing, you were humiliated cold and you smelt bad.. 

“What the fuck jason?!” Chrissy said that being the first cuss word anyone has heard her say. “You see this is why I dumped your ass Because your so fucking rude” She said, Her statement earnig ‘ooooo’s’ from the entire cafeteria  Walking up to you and crouching down so she could wipe the tears and milk off your face. Everyone was shocked and now quiet. You hugged her and she hugged back not even caring if her outfit smelt or had milk on it. “Oh shut up you little bi-” Before he could finish his sentence he was being shoved on the ground and being kicked repeatedly by the one and only Eddie munson. “You” *kick* “Fucking peice” *kick* “Of shit!” *Kick*. Chrissy was making you look into her eye’s while she covered your ears so as to not hear the naughty words coming out of your daddy’s mouth  and for you not to see the violence going on. Mike eventually pulled him back and Eddie’s face was red and Jason was holding his stomach and groaning with a bloody nose. “EDDIE MUNSON!!!!!” Was heard from the other side of the cafeteria as he quickly ran over to his lunchbox, got it and ran to his van. Chrissy quickly grabbing your’s and hers bag and running with his “Come kiten almost there” She said when you started to slow down but you quickly made it and hopped in the back of his van closing the doors before he drove off seeing principal higgins out of breath and bending down to hold his knees. You started crying again and Chrissy was quick to comfort you. Once you got to chrissy’s house you were given a bath and a nice hair/head massage from both chrissy and Eddie. 

Once you were done Chrissy took her shower while Eddie put your pull-up on and took his shirt off so he could give you skin to skin humming as he gently laid you on his chest and rubbed lotion on your back and where he could reach. Once he was done with that he gently massaged your hair with H/p (the hair product you use) Still humming sweet lullabies as you were drifting off you heard a door being opened and you looked up to see your mommy and waited for her to put her shorts and panties on before her and Eddie switched. So now you were laying on her chest as she laid down patting your bum as you laid your head in the crook of her neck and waited for Eddie. 

About 15 mins later you heard the shower door being opened and out comes eddie in sweat shorts and Psds/Ethikas (Your choice but look I know that psd didn’t exist back then but PSD’S OR ETHIKAS ON EDDIE MUNSON???? 💥💥💳💥💥!!!!!!) “Okay little kitten would you like a night night bottle?” He asked and you shook your head no and made grabby hands for him while whining. “Aw ok ok sh shhh Daddy’s coming” He said climbing into bed as he turned the nightstand light off and your Night light automatically came on making stars on the ceiling that changed color slowly. 

(You can choose any animal you’d like) 

“Good night my Queen and princess” (He would naturally call you both queens but your little so he calls you princess) “Good night my king and princess” Chrissy said “Gwood nwight mama an’s dadda twank chu bwoth fo swaving m..” and you there drifted off into dreamland. “How much you wanna bet she’s gonna want me in the morning” Eddie said smirking “15.” Chrissy said back with a smirk as well “Oh your on” Eddie said both of them laying down to go to sleep. Needless to say Eddie owed chrissy 15 because of the little “Mama i wan chu” With a whine they heard in the morning that woke both of them up but chrissy declined the 15 and just asked Eddie to pay her back with a kiss for both of them which he quickly obeyed to!

<3 

Word Count: 1258

Hi my Little doves! Please let me know about your thoughts and opinions but in a respectful manner. Again thank you so much for this request hopefully it met what you were looking for if not please let me know! I hate the fact that I made Jason a monster again but it’s for that plot <3 This request was very fun to write and I do hope to receive more from you and others and I will hope to improve as I go and continue writing stories! But anyways hope you're drinking 1-4 water bottles/cups of water and eating at least 1-2 meals a day! Until the next one my fellow Victims~

 Your Friendly Neighborhood,

      ☢Killer Bunny☢