#this is probably my favorite bass of his

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

💙🌊R I V E R S🌊💙

[positivelyapunovexponent-good]

Once I come up with a killer band name all I'll need to do is actually learn how to sing or play an instrument!

(Honestly this thought exercise is actually a really fun coping mechanism for rejection of any sort I highly recommend it)

[virichemia]

Looking at brother Not looking

[rainrot4me]

Ticci Toby General Headcannons

Summary: Basic, SFW, and NSFW head-cannons. My personal thoughts, feelings, and opinions about Toby as a character.

TW: NSFW below the cut, minors dni! Above the cut is sfw!

Words: 1.6k

Basic:

- Even though he is socially awkward and tense, he’s a master at people watching. Can read a room and know more details about a person within seconds of watching them interact.

- Likes his alone time.

- He would probably say Tim and Brian are his closest friends, the same can’t be said about Masky and Hoodie, however.

- A pro at zoning out. Takes you waving your hand in his face before he snaps back.

- Bipolar? More-so emotional switch. Tends to be soft-spoken and awkward, trying his best to keep conversation while fidgeting his hands, looking anywhere but at your face. Otherwise, he’s an in-your-face, aggressive, no emotional resistance when that flip is switched. Lots of teeth gritting and yelling, swings his ax around like it’s a toy to intimidate. It takes a lot for him to get to that point, but it takes double the time for him to come back down from it.

- Not easily scared. Will throw himself into a fight and come out victorious somehow.

- Sleeper build. Wears lots of baggy clothing and layers so you can’t tell, but secretly he’s jacked. He may look scrawny, but don’t be fooled. Really strong shoulder and chest muscles from dually swinging his ax and dragging bodies around. He doesn’t think it’s all that impressive. Wishes he was bigger.

- The worst posture you’ve ever seen.

- Let his facial hair grow out from time to time. Thinks it makes him look too mature, but appreciates the compliments he gets.

- Has a secret hobby of playing a guitar he found on a mission. His tics mess him up a lot, but it’s worth the trip out deeper into the woods where no one can hear to practice a little.

- A little shit.

- Hates the heat. Would rather freeze to death than spend one moment in the too hot sun. Favorite season is late fall, around the first snowfall time.

- Big on territory. Never had privacy or respect as a kid so he values having his own things and belongs that nobody else can touch.

- Definitely shy, but not in the “UwU” way, in the “Can you get this from the gas station for me? The girl in there looks mean.”

- Bites his nails, the skin around his nails, and his cuticles LIKE A MF.

- Very light sleeper. Unless he’s absolutely dead beat exhausted, he’ll wake up from just the floorboards creaking. Has to be physically exhausted to actually rest.

- When listening to music, he needs it as loud and close as possible. Headphones are a must and they must be at max. He wants to feel that bass.

- A stray animal lover, feels similar to them in a way.

- Breaks down a lot. Hard to console or even talk to in those moments but some time alone in his room will do the trick.

- Has the education level of a middle schooler.

- Enjoys Gorillaz, Rainbow Kitten Surprise, and surprisingly, older country artists like Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson. “Outlaw shit.”

Dating Him/SFW:

- “Love” “Y/N…” “Baby”

- Loves when he touches you and you don’t pull away. Like when his knee accidentally rests against yours or his elbow bumps your arm while sitting on the couch and you don’t tug away, just sitting there letting him rest. He gets all giddy.

- Playing with your hair. Currently trying to learn how to braid.

- “Wait. O- Okay, so, right th- then left? No? F- Fuck, okay…”

- Favorite sleeping position is with you wrapping around each other, legs and arms tangled together as he hooks his chin onto the top of your head, rubbing your back. Even though you both get extremely hot and sweaty after a while, Toby enjoys the moment before you eventually shove him off.

- Likes to feel your body weight on him, whether it’s laying or sitting, he just likes the pressure and warmth you give.

- Big on physical touch, could really care less if he’s mad or not, just needs to have some part of his body touching yours.

- You could wear or look like absolutely anything and he’d still think you’re the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen.

- Loves how you smell after getting out of the shower, can’t get enough of it while he kisses your warm, damp skin.

- Loves the way it feels when you comb through his hair with your fingers, practically purrs as he melts into your warmth, angling his head so you have better access.

- An admirer for sure, stares even when you catch on, studying every freckle or sunspot on your cheek.

- Self conscious about being your boyfriend. In reality, he’s an amazing lover, but he’s been conditioned his whole life that he’s not good enough and that ideal carries over.

- Tried to lick you through the hole in his cheek once, you both freaked out.

- Sensitive to high stress situations or loud noises so constantly reaches for your hand or crams himself into your side to block out the panic he can feel oncoming. You really help.

- Slasher movie date nights are always a bust because he’ll describe just how inaccurate that blood splatter was, followed by what would actually happen in detail.

- “If he c- cut the arm like that, it wou- wouldn’t spray out that far. This g- guy doesn’t even l- look like he’s ever even he- held an ax before.”

- Didn’t have a favorite color until you told him yours. Says his is the same, just cause it’s your favorite.

- Very immature in the sense of relationship problems. He thinks everything can be solved if he just avoids it, and that includes you. It takes a lot of bickering and patience, but he’ll eventually get over himself and force a solution.

- Doesn’t open up about anything ever. You’ve gotta fight tooth and nail for him to even mention his mother’s name. Will tell you all about his latest mission, however, whether you want to hear or not.

- Throws things or hits you playfully just to turn around and go “Who did that??”

Dating Him/NSFW:

- Boobs. Tits. Breasts. He needs them in his palms immediately.

- A big biter. Will never bite hard enough to draw blood but gets so turned on at seeing his teeth marks in your skin. Big territory thing.

- “Mine. See, I m- marked ‘ya. You’re mine.”

- His dream is to fuck your tits, too shy to ask though.

- Always been a “jerk off as fast as you can” kind of guy, fisting his cock fast to just get off. So when you slowly slide down his cock for the first time, taking your time to adjust and grind your hips at a steady pace, he nearly cums on the spot from how overwhelming it is.

- Bisexual, definitely.

- Starts at a fast pace at first, thrusting and grinding until both of your hips hurt, but then slowly his pace changes, more intentional movements and sinking deeper, more focused on stretching you out then getting deep. Just wants to get you dizzy before he gives you the good stuff lol.

- “Th- That feel good? You’re sq- squeezin’ so tight, ah-”

- His fingernail imprints all over your skin from how hard he holds you.

- Pervert but not in a creepy way. Pervert as in gets a boner from just watching your ass as you walk across the room. Has to clench his fists every time you bend over or raise your shirt up. Can barely breathe if you’re showing too much skin.

- Not big on degradation, but is very big on affirmation, loves to be told he’s doing good.

- Secretly, sooooo secretly loves the idea of anal. For both you and him. He wants to be buried in your ass, your back laid into his chest as he shoves his fingers into your cunt, panting into your neck. But at the same time, wishes you would just read his mind and push your fingers into his, fisting his cock as you stretched him so well.

- Surprisingly, very flexible. Whatever position you’re in he can easily contort to get the best angle to sink his cock in.

- Jealousy sex. Another resident of the mansion catches your glance for too long and suddenly you’re shoved into the bathroom, pants at your ankles as the brunette swipes the pads of his fingers against your clit, biting against your shoulder as he ruts into your ass.

- “Mine, mine, m- mine, nobody els- else makes you feel this good. Right? R- Right? Yeah?”

- A WHINER. Grade A pro at burying his face into your neck/pillow/chest and just sobbing his pleasure through tears and moans. He’s so loud, obnoxiously groaning and huffing as you slap your hand over his mouth. It doesn’t help though, as soon as your hand pushes down his tongue is already out and licking your palms.

- You in his hoodie? Yeah, it’s the only thing you’re wearing while he snaps his hips, pushing your knees back as far as they’ll go to get even deeper, mewling about how good you look.

- Loves to sit back and watch you suck his cock, his fingers pushing strands of hair out of your face as you try to take it all in, eyes twitching the further down you get. He’s not insanely big, just lengthy enough to make you choke and reach all the best parts. Likes to put his goggles on your forehead and watch them dangle as you bob up and down.

- Cumming in you? No. Cumming on you? Every single time. Goes absolutely crazy when he sees his seed shot across your stomach or thighs, your flushed skin and post-orgasm twitches getting him so turned on he can’t focus.

- “You ju- just look so good… Couldn’t he- help myself, okay? Sorry… Can we, u- uh… Can we go ag- again?”

Thank you for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[livelaughlovesubs]

~ 06.10 - Boothill ~

Dom!reader x sub!boothill - reader is gender neutral

Warning: a little dark, dubcon, sadistic (?) reader, first time (doing smt sexual), finger sucking, gun play, teasing, dacryphilia, dry orgasm, cumming untouched, hair pulling, use of chemicals, choking, violence, vomiting, kidnapping

~ Word count: 7k ~

Nini!rant: went for a slightly different vibe this time~ how is it?

Kinktober list 2024

“Hah, another fake galaxy ranger? Who’s tryna impersonating us this time?” Boothill lowered his hat to hide his face while he stared at a wanted poster. Still clean, it must be a new commission. At first, he only wanted to check his own bounty, when he noticed another one right next to his.

‘Galaxy ranger […….], wanted, dead or alive, bounty [1.380.000]’

Consider him surprised when he didn’t recognize the name or the face. Him, the one who owns a data bank to support his memories. It could only mean that it’s an imposter. Having a fake ranger’s wanted poster hung right next to his is pretty humiliating, are they looking down on him? “This might be interesting.” The cowboy smirked to himself, yanking off the poster from the wall while he continued his pursuit.

This was going to be a side job, to yearn some cash for his good ol’ alcohol: Asdana’s white oak, about 6% alcohol and fragrant like the fields after rain. A classic among the malts. Pair that with a bullet to match and consider yourself drinking the holy water from the garden of Eve. The bass and gunpowder will bring an exquisite taste only folks with fine tongues can taste. If he had to give a deeper description, the word mellowness would match mighty fine.

Just thinking about the taste raised his spirits. Since he was going to catch you soon and get compensated big, it wouldn’t hurt to celebrate like this once in a while. Don't get him wrong, this isn't indulging, it's enjoying life. Which is why he was standing in front of a bustling bar, his favorite one. The minute he walked in, he felt his mind be at ease, like a ship with smooth sailing. Everything stayed as cozily as he remembered, the same old barkeeper, music, and seats. As if this was his second home, he popped down right next to the counter and put his arm up onto the bar table.

“Boss, here! The usual for me, you know, the lit stuff.” Boothill smirked, his other hand was tapping his knee slowly. “It’s you again, one Asdana without ice?” The man behind the counter seems to remember that very cowboy, as well as his usual order. To that boothill answered, “Of course, I take my Asdana neat.” Then the barkeeper nodded, as if to acknowledge it, commenting, "You are as lively as ever, sir." Before walking off to get the bottle.

Lively? Huh, it's not a word he'd use to describe himself, but it isn't bad. No, not bad at all. In the meantime the cyborg looked around the establishment, seeing many new and old faces that bring back memories. Among those, there was a single shadow that intrigued him. It was the person sitting next to him.

You were there already when he came, sipping away at your drink as your eyes darted around aimlessly. A cocktail of some kind, fading from black to red. If he had to guess, probably hangman’s blood? One of the specialties of this bar, he knows the owner is proud of that drink. It’s pretty strong, you must be good at dealing with alcohol. Maybe you'd be a splendid drinking buddy, he thought to himself, grinning from ear to ear. Meeting new people and making connections never hurts anyone.

Suddenly he moved his chair closer to yours, opening his mouth and attempting to strike up a conversation with you. “Hey, you there, I haven’t seen ya’ around here. This your first time here?” He tried his best to give you a gentle smile, that ended up with him showing off his sharp teeth. For some, he might have appeared threatening even. “...Yeah, it is. I heard that the drinks here are excellent, which is why they have so many regulars.” You stirred around in your glass, mixing the two colors.

“That’s right, you see, I consider myself a regular too.” Boothill chuckled, by the looks of it, he was quite proud of that title. “Oh right, name’s boothill, you can call me that. How ‘bout we drink a lil’ together?” He smirked, it was still a rather awkward smile. Though luckily you didn’t seem to mind. “Boothill huh? I’ve heard that name around, you are notorious for your misdeeds against the IPC.” You turned around to face him, returning his gesture by smiling as well.

At least he thinks you did, since he saw your face twitch. However, he couldn’t see it clearly due to the effects of the lighting. That was why you looked like a shadow from afar. The cyborg scoffed a bit, appearing amused by your words, “misdeeds you say? Cutie, my actions may not be innocent but I only do honest work.” A low chuckle reached his ears, followed by your response to his rather playful comment, “Of course, I understand. You galaxy rangers are brimming with righteousness after all.”

For some reason, your voice was as clear as day, despite the bustling noises emerging from the background. Many people were talking among themselves, so despite you not speaking especially loud, he still heard you perfectly. It was almost as if he filtered the other sounds out for yours only. At first glance, you seemed friendly, kind even. Yet there was this strange feeling surrounding you, he couldn’t get rid of the lingering suspicions. How did you know his occupation? Sure, his name was pretty infamous, though was it normal to know this much?

“…I guess the number on my bounty isn’t just for show.” He joked, before letting out some breathy laughs. Instead of paying attention to his words, you stared at his hand, each finger was out of metal. A artificial arm, or to be precise, a cyborg. Nothing you didn’t know. Suddenly you raised your finger, pointing in his direction. Boothill frowned a little, taken aback by it. “Your drink, it’s coming.” After a moment you explained, and he turned his head around.

Who would have guessed, you were right, the bartender was just putting down the liquor as he chirped, “One Asdana?” Before winking at the male and leaving the two of you alone. “Ah, yeah, that's for me.” The cowboy mumbled, about to take the old-fashioned glass when you stopped him. “Wait a second, I have something for you.” The moment your sentence ended, you began fumbling with your bag, apparently searching for something.

He was a bit irritated but listened to you anyway, taking his hand back. Waiting like this was a tiny bit annoying, but he put up with it. About a minute later, you were holding a shiny object in your hand. Without giving him any warnings, you dropped the said object into his drink. The beverage splashed against the glass due to the impact, only a single drop landed outside before the liquid calmed down.

Now, a bullet was slowly sinking to the bottom of the glass. Its color matched his drink, it had a golden gleam. “Holy forkeroni…” He gasped, this bullet, it was- “9 millimeters caliber, 147 grain, and the bottom's round as a pie. An eternal classical, am I right?” After explaining something obvious to him, you finally showed your face by leaning forward. The lightbulb brightened your features, exposing your identity to the cowboy. A daring move, a risky gamble with cards not everyone would have played. You stared right into his black pupils without a hint of fear, and his response to your boldness was as expected. “This information, you are...!” Immediately, the cyborg grabbed you by your collar and yelled, “Son of a nice lady- you are the one from that wanted poster! The fake galaxy ranger!” He shook his head, then demanded, “Fudge me… don’t fork around and answer, how do you know so much about me?” What a serious tone he had, he must be feeling threatened.

Your eyes darted down to his metallic hand, the same one you were eyeing up and down earlier was now clenching your shirt. Instead of taking him seriously, you were calm and collected, taking one step after another. Seeing you so relaxed, he felt a hint of anger building within him and used more force. It was almost enough to lift you off your seat. Gosh, look how much contempt he suddenly has for you when he was so nice to you mere moments ago.

“Please don’t cause a scene, sir boothill, I was only being nice by catering your drink to your taste. What's the problem?” You cooed at him like he was a child throwing a tantrum, playing the naive card. This playful tone of yours reminded him awfully of his own, yet at that moment it annoyed him. “You are dodging my question.” He stressed his words, furrowing his brows and tightening his grip. But he jerked a little when you clasped your hand over his, your touch was warm in comparison to his.

Then you spoke in a calm tone, “Shall we take this outside? There are many watching eyes here. I believe you wouldn’t want to get banned from your favorite bar.” The way you talked suggested you knew much more, a lot more than what he does about you. After all, you knew some private details about his preferences and hobbies. In conclusion, you must have been waiting for him here, at this very bar.

Boothill still hesitated for a moment, before eventually letting go of you. He clicked his tongue as if he regretted your meeting today. In truth, he wasn't in the mood for a fight, despite everything he came here to have fun. Your clothes were now wrinkled and slightly messy, disheveled would also be a fitting term, but you didn’t really bother with straightening them out, rather, you were amused by his hot temper. The boy thought about the situation and the problem he was facing. He couldn't read you at all, what a tough nut to crack.

It would be smart to sort out his thoughts, so first things first, he has to find out how you obtained all this information about him. What was your deal and reason? Then he should think about how to clean up this chaos in case it becomes messy. Even so, startling the other guests wouldn’t be good, that’s why he should contain himself for now. “Fine, lead the way, and don’t try to pull any funny business with me.” He clasped his arms in front of his chest, glaring at you with nothing but contempt. To be honest he looked like a cheeky cat instead of a dangerous lion.

“Don’t look at me like I’m some kind of criminal~” You jest, grinning from ear to ear as you sipped at your cocktail. “Oh yeah? Why do you have quite the sum on your head then.” The cowboy countered your statement, squinting his eyes a little. To think you lost his trust this fast, he was a cautious fellow. “Haha, you hurt me. Don’t you have a bounty on your head as well? If so, why can’t I be righteous too?” He shuddered a little at your words, by the looks of it, you could also be a crazy stalker who invaded his privacy. Heck, he would almost bet on you knowing his head's value in and out.

At this point your voice alone was enough to scratch him the wrong way, you were really testing his patience. Boothill dismissed your statement with a groan, “Don’t compare us, I’m not a motherfudgin' fake ranger like you.” You blinked a few times at his words, before laughing out loud. He didn't like how you reacted. “Ahaha~ yes yes, of course, I’m the bad guy in your story, how did I forget this detail?” You blabbered, and he didn't really understand what you meant.

Then, without giving him any time to process what you said, you sprang up from your seat but made sure to take your cocktail with you. “Come now, cowboy. Take your drink with you, can’t leave that to waste right? Let’s continue drinking outside, like real drinking buddies.” That last sentence, he hasn't asked you yet, that means you guessed by his actions alone. Was it that obvious? It almost felt like you were taunting him or making fun of his previous idea of befriending you.

To save some of his pride, he decided to entertain your little chitchat. “Take it with me? I don’t think I’ll need that long to deal with the likes of you.” He sneered, a cheeky expression was plastered on his face now. You scanned him up and down a few times, then said, “If I can give you one advice: you’ll regret it if you don’t.” Shortly after, you walked out of the store, not giving a damn if he followed you or not. It was because you knew he wouldn’t let you escape so easily, and as you predicted, he followed you to the back of the bar. His footsteps were rather silent for a cyborg, he must not want to involve other guests.

The environment was filthy and dark, as well as out of the sight of innocent civilians. Perfect for an ambush or to have a private talk. You took another sip of your drink and complimented it, “Heavens, have I told you already? This tastes great. Wanna try some?” This sudden courtesy didn't seem fitting at all, considering he already lost all trust he had for you. His eyes pointed to your hand, the hand holding the glass in front of him. Instead of taking it, he clanked his own glass against yours, saying “No need, and cheers. Now that we are drinking, it’s time for you to start talking.” After finishing his speech, he drank his much-anticipated beverage.

This was what he missed, the sweet taste of paradise. No matter how he hated to admit it, the bullet you put in was just the stuff he needed. The faint taste of brass and gunpowder partnered up with the overwhelming sweetness of the malt juice was simply magnificent. “Ehem.. now,” He began, putting the drink onto the staircase next to him. It was the emergency staircase in case of a fire, yet it looked rusty as hell. Still, it won’t crash down because of one measly drink, will it?

This was something he had noticed for a while, somehow, he always found your gaze on his hands. The same applied here when he was putting his malt juice away. Was it worth being careful about? Boothill sighed, before continuing, “Tell me, what is your purpose? You were looking for me, weren’t ya?” Straight to the point, as expected of an ill-mannered cowboy like him, but you didn’t dislike it. “If I told you, this won’t be fun anymore. The villain always shares their plan when the hero is subdued.” You gurgled down the last bits of your ‘hangman’s blood’, then put the glass on the ground, unlike him. Would you look at that, who has no manners now?

Afterward, you walked up to the man, and his response to it was taking a few steps back. It wasn’t until his back hit the wall that the two of you stopped in your tracks. “Shirtbag… do you want to imitate a cartoon villain that bad?” He scoffed, crossing his arms once again. “Hehe, maybe.” You smiled at him providing him with a vague answer. Fork it, he was definitely going to wipe that insolent grin of yours from your face. “Anyway, before things escalate and you hit me, how about a quick introduction? My name is y/n.” The ranger didn’t look happy at all at your suggestion, and so he snapped, “I know, I saw on the poster. Can you stop wasting my free time now?”

“Whoa, easy there. And hey! Don’t pull your gun out!” You said and raised your hands as if to testify to your cooperation, then spouted “Well, I don’t know what information I own that could possibly satisfy you.” Now you were really wasting his time, chatting with no end in sight. Obviously, you were playing dumb with him. This caused Boothill to shout almost angrily, “Just tell me what business you have with me, fudgehead!” His rather funny way of talking didn't shock you, which means this was another piece of information you had access to beforehand. Who was feeding you with all that info?

He reached out for your collar again, but to his surprise, he couldn't move his arm anymore. “What the fork?!” His eyes turned to look up at you, his soft lips were parted due to disbelief. “Thankfully it worked~ otherwise I’d be cheese by now!” You joked, taking another step forwards him. “Holy wubabboo- is this your doing?” A confused expression spread on your face and you questioned, “Did what?” What the- what was happening, he couldn't comprehend this darned situation.

“How did you pull this off-? UrGhh!!” Out of nowhere, he dropped down to his knees, hovering and kneeling on the ground while sweating furiously. There was no strength left in his legs, or he lost control of his limbs somehow. On the outside he looked like a robot out of power, arms dangling next to him all lifeless. “Fudge! Tell me! What did you do?!” This has to be your doing, the timing is too perfect. You scanned his body again, smirking to yourself. "I had to prepare a lot for this, you know."

His ears perked at your confession, were you finally getting bored of that clueless act? Your face was barely visible since the alley wasn’t very bright, there was only one dimly lit street lamp around the corner. “You were easier to catch than I thought.” You then uttered. What the hell is this! That was supposed to be his line, so how did things end up this way? He is a motherfudging cyborg, what could you have possibly done to him?

The word confusion was basically written all over his face, he couldn’t even curse at you because he was so baffled, so perplexed about basically everything. Then, you raised your foot and stepped down on his shoulder. He turned his head to the side just to be faced with your shoe, the soles dirtied his cropped jacket.

“Get off me, you son of a nice fugin' lady.” Boothill gritted his teeth, trying to push you away. But the word in capital letter and underlined was 'trying', since he couldn’t move at all. He felt as helpless as the day he lost his home, unable to do anything but watch from the sidelines. “I like that feisty look in your eyes, cowboy.” You teased, those stinging words hurting his ego. Suddenly you leaned down, all so you could meet his gaze more easily.

Your hands reached for the glass of malt juice standing on the staircase and held it above his face. It shone in a golden light, almost akin to a disco ball. His eyes were glued to that glass, partly because he wondered what you planned to do. “Here, as I said before, this shouldn’t go to waste.” You told him and grabbed his chin. It happened so suddenly that he couldn’t react to it, not like he could have done anything in self-defense anyway. “Ugh, let go you mother- fuuHHMM!!”

When he opened his mouth to curse and to let out a shocked yelp, you forcefully poured the drink down his throat. It streamed down his oesophagus. You had to admit, he had good reflexes for reacting to this so quickly. Some of the liquid landed on his lips or cheeks, but he drank most of the juice. You watched the remains that weren't swallowed drip down his chin, soiling his clothes further and creating a darker spot on the fabric. It also covered his metallic chest in a golden shine, one could easily confuse it with oil.

The cyborg closed his eyes to avoid the liquor getting in places it shouldn’t, he choked a little since you were pouring so fast he couldn’t keep up with the swallowing. This didn’t stop until the glass was empty, even the bullet you gifted him earlier ended up in his mouth. He let it rest on his tongue for a while, before gulping it down as well. “Mmmh, guhh- cough cough!”

Boothill gasped, the bullet didn’t roll in as easily as the malt juice, it remained stuck in his throat. He had to cough a few times for it to slide down, after that he instantly complained, “Fu-fudge... why did you do that? I wanted to enjoy my drink slowly!” But he stopped mid-track when your familiar laugh echoed in his ears, and your fingertips stroked his chin. Shivers ran down his spine at your touch, he didn't know why.

“Dear ranger~ did your mommy not teach you not to take things from a stranger?” His eyes twitched and widened, you couldn’t really grasp the expression he pulled, though he looked devastated. It seems a light switch clicked inside his thick skull. Did you mess with his drink? Boothill just couldn't keep calm anymore at the realization, glaring at you with a nasty attitude. “Oh my, did I hit a sore spot there? You look like you want to kill me.” Yet his threatening, imposing body language didn’t scare you off, which is why you continued ridiculing him.

“I’ll ask you a last time, what the fork did you do to me?" Despite all these misfortunes, he didn't give up his insolent side, he was planning on giving you a hard time until the very end. Boothill was showing his sharp teeth once again, but this time he wasn’t smiling. “Are you familiar with Sulfuric acid?” You uttered, tapping his lips with your thumb. That word was foreign to him, was it something he would know? He wanted to bite down on his bottom lip, but you stopped him. This feeling, it was latex, you were wearing gloves.

“You see, it’s potent enough to melt metal.” The expression that followed after you enlightened him of its importance was simply amazing, you were curious about what he felt in that moment. Shock? Anger? Frustration? Maybe even self-hatred? “Then, how did you-” “Hey, I wasn’t done talking. Anyway, to answer your question, I hid it inside the bullet. Then I just had to wait for it to melt through the brass and voila, need me to say more?” What a talent you have for spouting such horrendous things with an innocent tone.

“Everything’s going according to your plan, huh, explaining everything when the hero’s subdued.” He repeated your words, then coughed again because his throat was burning. Actually, it hurt and itched. His face also felt like it was on fire, or to be precise, his skin did. It was so painful he had to clench his teeth to suppress the pain. You laughed under your breath, laughing at him, mocking him. “Right, if it’s potent enough to inflict wounds on a cyborg, then of course it irritates the skin as well.” Well, that should explain why his skin was hurting. “Now, boothill, may I give you another advice?”

Your hand caressed his cheeks as you asked him that, face only millimetres away from his. The way you touched him was surprisingly gentle, it made him sick. “What do you want.” He scorned, shaking his head to brush off your hand. “I’m sure you have extra protection around the more important components inside your system, though you should still get rid of the acid.” You looked unfazed when he avoided your touch, instead you closed the already nonexistent distance between you two and whispered into his ear.

The male looked mad, really damn angry. He yelled into your face, “Well fudge me I guess?! I can’t forking move my body!” That caught you off guard, you blinked a few times at his aggressive behavior. Don't get you wrong, it's not that you didn’t understand his point of view. On the contrary, it's good to see him still so energetic. “Ah~ my bad, I didn’t think the acid would break your control Center first. Why is it located right next to your stomach anyway?” You admitted, scratching your head a little.

This was so easy that it was almost boring, you expected him to put up more of a fight. But you can't blame him when he's basically a cripple right now. “In other words, I’m fudged? Fork this, dying so dishonorable tsk tsk.” Boothill snarled, rolling his eyes, he didn’t consider himself a living man before, but now he was dead-dead if you knew what he meant.

You glanced at his face, he was sweating and his complexion didn’t look all that good. He acted as if he didn't mind it, but he was hanging onto life so dearly it almost moved you. In the end, you proposed in a tender tone, “Want me to help you?” The ranger was still glaring at you, though his gaze bore more skeptic than fury. “You caused this first- fine, I don’t have any choice but to accept do I?”

No matter how he despised you, he can't carry out revenge when he's dead. It's not that he trusted you to 'save' him, but rather, this is his last resort. As soon as he finished his sentence, you yanked on his chin to make him look up at you. The tips of his hair were wet due to the alcohol, and his skin also reddened due to the acid. Your thumb pressed on his bottom lip, almost pulling at it. A faint blush crept onto his cheeks at the intimate touch. Adorable.

When he parted his lips a little, you took that opportunity to stuff your index and middle finger into his mouth. “What- Mhm..!?” The male groaned, finding himself in a pretty bizarre situation. God how embarrassing, he was falling into a shameful abyss he couldn't crawl out anymore. Truth be told, he had a pretty accurate guess on what you wanted to do, though he really didn’t want to actually carry it out. Was this the only way?

You stuck your digits deeper inside, already at the second knuckle, causing him to flinch and twitch. His eyes were tightly shut, brows furrowed while a growing blush covered his features. Damn it, this is worse than any nightmares, this feels the worst. So what was this bubbling and tingly sensation he felt? It was messing with him, causing him to shudder. He could feel your fingers pressing down on his tongue, as well as you trying to not cut yourself on his teeth. This was weird, it was so strange, why was he getting lightheaded?

“Don’t act so surprised now, I’m helping you as you wanted.” After watching his helpless face for a while, you commented on it, obviously not planning on stopping the teasing anytime soon. It seems you caught on to the growing tension between the two of you, so you chuckled, “Hey... what’s this I'm seeing? Why is your face getting red?” His once half-lidded eyes were yanked wide open at the thought that he got exposed.

Don't tell him he was enjoying this perverted act. “Hmm! Sho-shou ap..!” Boothill tried to speak despite the difficulties, feeling your digits reaching deeper and deeper. With each poke, the tingly feeling also increased. Was this perhaps what they called sexual pleasure? If so, why did he have to experience it for the first time at your hands?

A few seconds later, you were knuckles-deep inside him, fingertips already rubbing the walls of his throat. It was wet and hot in his mouth, and his face seemed to be gradually heating as well. That process was speeding up quite rapidly. His cheeks quickly turned red, a foggy blush tainting the skin. He was blushing so much just from sucking on your fingers a little? You simply couldn’t miss out on ridiculing him yet again, purring into his ear once more, “Does this turn you on? How cute.”

His pupils shrank at your comment, probably at the disbelief that you’d say something this audacious. Him? Turned on by you? What a joke- this can’t be real. He was just having a hard time breathing, and that’s why he was getting red. Really. Though deep down, he knew he couldn't sugarcoat it, the truth will always be the truth, no matter how he denies its existence. “MhMm, guhNn, hmm-nggHh..!” The cowboy tried to argue with you, though his protests were muffled by you, only inaudible noises could be made out.

There were also sneaky moans mixed among his protests or little gasps. The vibrations of his voice tickled your skin, it felt pretty funny actually. “What was that? I can't understand you~” You admitted cheerfully, watching the emotion on his face rotate from shock, and anger to frustration. What a shameless person you were, and not to forget heartless.

Then you pressed down on his wet muscle once again, and he gagged around you. “Ughhh..!” That one single gag soon turned into a series of chokes, and tears began collecting in his eye sockets. So he still had his gag reflex, excellent, it was exactly what you needed. More coughs and chokes continuously spilled from the male while you mercilessly ravished his throat.

He could feel you poking his throat so deep it almost hurt, yet that wasn't the only thing he felt. No. Far from it, his body was burning up from the inside, though it was a different kind of heat than the effects of the acid. His mind felt so foggy and weakened, was it alright for him to let his guard down in times like this? When he still hasn't discovered your purpose? But he couldn't hang on anymore, it was as if his brain was melting. Never ever was it this challenging for him to hang on to his reason and logic, to what makes him human.

"Dahmmmm it..! S-stouu! GuhHGG..!!" He choked again, but this time, it felt like something was coming out... no, it was- "hmHHh, fooouukk!! Ugh-guUH!" This familiar sensation and taste, he couldn't move his tongue but he could still taste it faintly. Not to mention the burdensome smell, this familiar smell that stayed around his nostrils. The Asdana he just gurgled down was coming up again, he was on the verge of vomiting. It was as if his body rejected the drink, and he couldn't stop gagging.

At least his insides won't get messed up any longer, that must be the only positive thing in all this. Even so, to do something that shameful in front of you, damn it, he wants to spit at you if he could. You noticed how his throat tightened, or how his Adam's apple moved around. With that, you took your fingers out as fast as how you stuck them inside him. Strings of saliva connected your fingertips with his mouth, and his tongue hung outside for a while. "Ugh, fu-gUhg, UhmM!!"

Right afterward, he puked on the ground, head hanging low while more gaging sounds left him. His pupils shrunk as the contents spilled onto the filthy ground. Those embarrassing noises didn't cease until he choked up the bullet he had previously swallowed. Then, he whimpered at the taste, it had become sour now due to the chemical. "There you go, you should be fixed now." You reported, but he couldn't bring himself to be joyful about it.

Rather, he was sweating furiously, eyes widened and almost dried up. If he could cry, he definitely would have. Oh how thankful he was in that moment that he physically couldn't sob. He wouldn't have been able to live with the shame of breaking down in tears and weeping in front of you. "Uhhhhg, da-mHnn it... fu-uGGhh!!" The taste of the alcohol wasn't as pleasant as before, probably due to it getting corrupted by the acid you mentioned. Such a waste, and to think it landed on the floor now. A place like that wasn't worth a drink this exquisite.

His eyelids and brows twitched, and now that he was done, he clenched his teeth again and insulted you, "You muddlefudger..." That rebellious look in his gaze didn't vanish, he glared at you once more. You were almost impressed if you didn't notice a small glimmer of falter within his tough facade. Despite it being a normal bodily reaction, he seems to be holding it against you. "And here I thought I helped you out, how ungrateful." You clicked your tongue, and his face became redder. Was it because of the humiliation or anger?

Your shoe was still on his shoulder, pressing down on him, reminding him of his vulnerable position. The Cowboy snapped at you, spitting through gritted teeth, "What do ya' got planned now?" You took off your gloves, they were covered in his saliva. Then you revealed, "I'm not sure." He only got more annoyed by that nonchalant answer and demanded, "If you're going to kill me make it quick." Weirdly enough, your eyes glimmered, as if you were inspired by his suggestion. "If that's what you want, I don't mind it." You smirked, patting his head, stroking his long hair as your other hand sneakily pulled out the gun around his waist.

He almost lost himself in that small gesture of comfort you gave him, if it wasn't for him seeing you with his gun in your hand. "Hah.. with my own weapon? Fudge, you want to humiliate me to the end huh." How resentful he sounded, you almost pitied this guy. "Maybe I do." After saying that irritatingly proud, you pressed his revolver against his forehead, pushing his bangs to the side. "But this is a little boring, don't you think?"

As if you were truly interested in his opinion, he found it quite difficult to believe that. "Why do you ask me?" Boothill gnarled, but to his surprise, you moved the revolver away. Instead, the barrel was pressed flat against his chest, the muzzle facing his chin. "What are you..?" The male mumbled, twisting his expression at this damned play you organized for him. For you, all this must be a game, a stage you laid out for him, where he was a mindless puppet playing right into your hand.

He thought he couldn't be surprised anymore, yet your actions kept going beyond anything he could ever imagine. You moved the revolver upwards so that the muzzle was touching the underside of his chin. At the same time, the gun was going underneath his short jacket. "Y-you..!" The cyborg couldn't help but blush a little. His face was hot, overheating even compared to the cold weapon you held in your hands. "Do you still want to die? If you beg, I might spar you?" Your tone didn't sound that serious, it was almost said in a joking manner.

“Fork you, never." Boothill snarled again, acting disobedient even though his life was at stake. He had a strong spirit since he was still so cocky after all the things he went through. You wiped off the smile from your face, now staring down at him with a cold-blooded expression, "I'll count down from three then. Three..." Wha- no, this can't be the end, he still has to find Oswaldo. His artificial heart pounded against his chest, causing his mind to fall into chaos. "Two."

You were so cruel, counting down like this without remorse, a fudging monster! Adrenaline was being pumped through his body, or should he rather say every wire he owned? "One-" Without thinking, since he lost that privilege the moment you began counting, he yelled as fast as he could and closed his eyes, "Fudge! Fine! If m'gonna die lemme at least curse at you! You- er, muddlefudging clocksucker!!" Right now, he kind of wished he could cry, just to let out some steam. You couldn't help but giggle, before uttering the word, "Zero." Suddenly, he blanked out.

For a split second, time appeared to have stopped. What followed after was a loud, ear-splitting sound that echoed through the alley. To be expected, it definitely alarmed other people. Then, absolute silence emerged. Not even the faint music from the bar could be heard anymore. "Ah... hu-huh..?" "Oh? Seems like your gun wasn't loaded!" You giggled, you knew this from the start, didn't you? Pants along with a few choked-out whines escaped him. Shivers traveled through him and electricity was being sent to his brain, stimulating the euphoric parts.

A moment later, a slap sound reached his ears, and a sting that felt strangely pleasant originated from his cheek. His face turned to the side, and his cheek throbbed. "uh-urghh..! Ah, wha-what?" Did you just... slap him? Boothill groaned, shaking a little as drool rolled down his chin because his mouth remained open for too long. His spit also defiled the gun, wetting the revolver. Then, the unimaginable happened, and he let out an unrestrained moan, "ahhhHHHNngg..!?" It was high-pitched and whorish, he wore such a confused but slutty expression that it surprised both of you.

Reality crushed down on him too hard, and he couldn't help but gasp and whimper underneath his ragged inhales. "Ugh..ngh- wha-what's this fe-feeling..? W-why.. ha-hmnHg..♡♥︎?" Oh dear, this is not what you think just happened, right? "Boothill, did you just cum?" You said his name after a long while, and he groaned again, "guHhh... s-stop, that's nonsense! How can I e-even.. I-" The boy stumbled over his words, stuttering as a deep blush was painted over his entire face. He was such a twitchy mess now, totally different than his previous self.

“Are you a masochist?” You asked him randomly, it was so out of pocket that it killed the mood. "...are you crazy?" Boothill replied with scorn, his pride was pretty hurt by that statement. As if to test your speculation, you grabbed the back of his hair and yanked on it, making him yelp. "Arghh..! L-let go- fudge!" Then you squeezed his cheeks and stuck out your tongue. He stared at you hesitantly, his own tongue also hanging outside. Mere moments later, your spit was dripping down and landing in his mouth.

That action rendered him speechless, causing him to freeze. Your saliva tasted a little like alcohol. Darn it, this was so disgusting. Once you were done, you let go of the cowboy again, before teasing him, "I was right, you are a masochistic dog~" You knew because of his flushed cheeks, they became redder at your lewd antics. "Are you satisfied now? The fork do you want from me?!" Boothill scoffed, he could only bear this much until his breaking point. "What do I want?" You repeated his sentence, and put a finger on your chin as if you were thinking hard about something.

In the meantime, boothill impatiently waited, he desperately wanted to know your intentions, to see if it justified your actions. When you moved your finger away, you grinned before responding, "I think the answer is you." "...huh?" The cyborg was stunned, staring up at you with spirals in his pupils as you suddenly embraced him. "You heard me, boothill." Your voice and your hug were so warm, he didn't know you could be this gentle.

No, this was no good, it was troubling, to say the least. "Y/n? You- shirt, what do you mean?" For the first time, you heard your name come out of his mouth. His voice trembled as he voiced out your name, the way he said it had a nice ring to it. Then he glared at you once again, but this time he looked like a small animal, eyes glistening while a heavy blush formed on his face. Wait, why was he even blushing? Maybe, because he was wanted for the first time after centuries?

"I hate you." He said after returning to his senses, he got caught up in his emotions there for a moment. These little bits of comfort aren't enough to make up for the mess you caused, and he didn't feel the same. On the other hand, you couldn't stop smirking, and he knew by the looks of it that it wasn't an innocent smile by length. "Let's get out of here, I'll help you move." You then told him and helped him get up, pulling him by his arms.

This was immediately met with angry protests from the male, "Don't touch me- hey, ugh! Where the fudge are you taking me?" The second he let his guard down, you stuffed your gloves into his mouth to muffle his voice, "hMHh?! MmhhGFFF!!!" After that, to satisfy his curiosity, you whispered quietly, "To a place where I can have you."

.

.

"Finally, the guards are here." One of the guests said, to which another one answered, "Thank god because no one dared to go see what was going on." Maybe people we in disarray due to the mysterious sound they all heard. It was probably a gunshot, which means, someone might have died. Yet no one dared to go into the alley, out of fear that they might be the next victim. After the guards arrived, a rather large group of people followed them and ran over to the scene.

They all wanted to know what that gunshot was, standing on the sidelines and observing the investigation. 'What the hell happened here?!' Everyone wondered, eyes searching around for evidence. The only hints they found were two glasses standing on the staircase with some credits, as well as a pool of what seems to be malt juice lying on the ground along with a single golden bullet in the midst of it.

The guard in charge of this operation reached out for the bullet and said, "...someone must have been shot." Then he eyed the bullet up and down, in hopes of finding more clues. That's when he noticed a weird detail, "Why are there holes in the bullet?"

Tags: @ghostiegirl56 @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze

Nini!rant 2.0:

Based on my findings, concentrated sulfuric acid can melt many metals, like aluminium, iron and steel. (Boothill isn’t safe hehe) It’s enough if it’s moderately concentrated, so it’s alright if a bit of water mixes into it as well. It also reacts to brass - the copper aspect of it, I dunno if it reacts to zink as well. Some sources say yes, some denied it.

Anyway, the Formular for the melting process or chemical reaction would be: Cu + h2So4 -> CuSo4 + h2 or Fe + h2So4 -> FeSo4 h2

So it also creates hydrogen gas at the same time, which also melts iron and is poison for the human body. Annnnd copper Sulfid, which is weak and easily breakable, that means it can weaken the brass.

My plan to poison him: his favourite drink is malt juice with a 9mm calliber bullet that’s out of brass. And malt juice is out of ca. 25-30% water. So, I was thinking of drilling a hole into the bottom of the bullet and use a needle to shoot concentrated sulfuric acid inside the capsule. Then drop that in the malt juice. Now we just gotta wait for the acid to melt through the bullet, and mix with the water of the alcohol, then it’d become moderately concentrated. Btw sulfuric acid can absorb water from everywhere, even from the air.

Then if he drinks it, bam, his insides will melt. It might take a bit, so we gotta entertain him and stretch out the time. Even if he doesn’t drink it, he eats bullets, so he’ll get the acid inside his body anyway. With that, we successfully ‘poisoned’ him. It takes a bit of fantasy but oh well.

Now, take this hangman’s blood recipe:

- 1¾ parts gin.

- 1¾ parts white rum.

- 1¾ parts whiskey.

- 1¾ parts brandy.

- 7½ parts stout beer.

- 6 parts champagne.

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

Don't mind me, just jumping into your asks. 😄

I had an idea/prompt for you! (Obviously you don't have to write it.) OT8 x fem is preferred but please, go nuts!! Thank you!!

*p.s. I am addicted to your writing works. I can't wait to see what you come up with!*

"His/their arms did what her sleeping pills couldn't."

𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕞𝕪 𝕗𝕒𝕧𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖 ℙ𝕚𝕝𝕝

Warning: Angst/comfort/fluff

Summary: Request!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

"Have you been sleeping?" Felix asks suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence in the kitchen. They were enjoying an afternoon snack that Leeknow had prepared for them after classes—a simple spread of sandwiches and fruit, but it felt warm and cozy.

Y/N sighed, taking a slow bite of the sandwich she was holding. If it weren’t for Lee Know insisting she eat something, she would probably be passed out from exhaustion by now. The weight of late-night studying and looming deadlines pressed down on her.

"Yes, I have. Just a lot of studying to do," she lied, trying to sound convincing.

"Hm? Are you sure?" Felix pressed, his eyes narrowing slightly. He knew her too well to buy into her facade.

"Yes, Felix, now drop it," she snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. Felix's face fell, and he pouted, his bottom lip jutting out in that adorable way that always made her heart soften.

"I was just asking. I didn’t mean to upset you—"

"Well, you are, so just leave me alone," she retorted, frustration spilling over. She knew she wasn’t angry at him; it was just that the exhaustion and irritability were clouding her thoughts. She hated taking it out on him.

"Fine," he replied, his expression clouding over as he frowned again. He stood up slowly, taking his plate with him, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor echoing in the otherwise quiet kitchen.

As he left, Y/N felt a pang of guilt settle in her stomach. She knew she needed to let him in, but right now, the weight of her fatigue felt like too much to bear.

She let out another frustrated sigh before putting away her empty plate and trudging toward her room, but she was soon interrupted by Seungmin, who playfully pulled her to the couch.

"Can you just listen to this?" he pleaded, handing her an AirPod. She sighed again, knowing she had just snapped at Felix and didn’t want to take her frustration out on anyone else.

"Y/N?" Seungmin called, snapping her out of her thoughts. She realized she had totally zoned out and barely heard the demo of the song he was working on.

"Did you like it?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

A pang of guilt washed over her, but she decided to lie again. "Yes, I did. It's amazing, Seungmin," she replied with a strained smile, handing him back the AirPod.

"That’s it?" he asked, looking confused. "Usually, you give me more details on where I can improve," he pouted, crossing his arms.

"W-well, maybe it’s just perfect, okay? Can we do this later, Seungmin? I promise I'll give you my full attention," Y/N begged. Her body ached, her head thumped like a bass drum, and her eyes felt like they were on fire. She could hardly keep herself upright.

"Are you sick? You look awful," Seungmin remarked, reaching out to check her forehead.

"Geez! Thanks. Means a lot," she grumbled, snatching her backpack and turning to leave.

"That's not what I meant—Y/N—wait!" But she was already in the hallway, refusing to look back.

It was as if the universe conspired against her because just as she was about to walk into her room, she was unexpectedly pulled into Hyunjin’s room.

"There you are! My favorite girl!" Hyunjin beamed, planting a soft kiss on her cheek. "How was school?"

Horrible. Disgusting. Tiring. Frustrating.

"Good," she replied flatly, forcing a smile.

"Great! So can I borrow you for tonight?" he asked, spinning her around and playfully carrying her toward the bed.

"Hyunjin..." she sighed, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. "I really wish we could go to the gallery, but I'm swamped with studying and—"

"Hey, baby!" Changbin interrupted, bursting into the room. "I was looking for you. Sorry to interrupt, but are we still on for the gym in 30?" His words hit her like a ton of bricks. She had totally forgotten!

Why does everyone want something from me today? she thought, feeling overwhelmed.

"Binnie..." she sighed again, tears welling in her eyes.

"God, I’m the worst girlfriend ever!" she huffed, her emotions boiling over. Without waiting for a response, she stormed out of the room and rushed to her own, knowing better than to lock it—Chan’s rules, after all.

She decided to lock her door and take a breather from everything. It wasn’t long before Changbin and Hyunjin knocked, but there was no response.

"Do you know what’s going on?" Changbin whispered to Hyunjin, concern on his face.

"No idea… maybe we should give her some space?" Hyunjin suggested, though neither wanted to leave her alone. They knew how she could shut down during tough times.

"I'll text Leeknow," Changbin decided, and they headed to the living room.

Meanwhile, Y/N felt overwhelmed. The pressure of school and her relationships weighed heavily on her. She tried to take a nap to recharge for the evening with her boyfriends, but sleep wouldn’t come. Her mind raced with thoughts of assignments, exams, and the expectations she felt from everyone around her.

"Forget this..." she whispered, pushing herself up and deciding to study instead. She shuffled to her desk, surrounded by textbooks and notes. Despite her exhaustion and the tears threatening to spill, she forced herself to focus on the pages in front of her.

Time slipped away, and she lost track of how long she had been studying when a loud knock startled her. "Y/N? You know I don’t like it when people lock doors," Chan called from outside, his voice a mix of concern and gentle authority.

It was 8:57, and she rubbed her eyes before reluctantly unlocking the door.

There stood Chan, looking concerned. Was he going to scold her?

"Hey, Y/N," he said softly, stepping inside.

She managed a small smile as he wrapped her in a warm hug. It felt so comforting that it made her wonder why she had been short with those she cared about. The weight of the world seemed to lift for a moment as she leaned into him.

"Channie... I’m so tired," she whispered into his shoulder.

"I know baby, shhh, it’s okay," he soothed, laying them both on the bed. He glanced around the room, noticing scattered books and an almost empty container of sleeping pills.

"Having trouble sleeping again?" he asked, worry in his voice.

"Mmhm," she sniffled.

"How long?" he continued, rubbing her back gently.

"Eight days..." she admitted, feeling shame wash over her.

"Eight days?!" he exclaimed, shocked that she was even functioning.

"I was going to tell one of you, but we’re all stressed with exams, and you have your comeback soon. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it," she cried, her voice breaking.

Chan let out a frustrated sigh. He cared deeply; that much was clear.

"What did I say about thinking for others?" he gently scolded. "What if I wasn’t busy? You can’t decide for me or the others when we’re available. Eight days isn’t healthy, and if I tell Leeknow, he’ll worry."

She lets out a whimper as the memory of how the last visit went. She had to be hooked up to many machines and monitors each monitoring her sleeping and to see what was wrong. She was exhausted for 12 hours straight in the hospital. "I’m sorry, please don’t tell him."

"Only if you promise to come to me whenever you’re struggling, okay?" he said, kissing her forehead and picking up the nearly empty container of pills. "How many have you taken? Are they not working?"

"It doesn’t work," she admitted, burying her head into his shoulder, feeling ashamed. "I tried taking three each night—"

"Three?! No way, Y/N, that’s not good for you, Please tell me you don’t feel sick."

"I don’t; I just feel cranky."

"Is that why you snapped at Felix?" he asked gently.

"Y-yeah. I should apologize to him," she said, avoiding his gaze.

"Hey, look at me," he said softly, kissing her cheek. "I know it gets tiring, but you have to communicate, okay? Wash up, and we can watch a movie downstairs. The boys are worried. Han's about to lose it. He's about to escape the restraints Leeknow put on him."

"Oh no," she giggled for the first time in a while. "Not time out!"

"I missed that smile," he said gripping at her waist.

"I thought I had to wash up?" she teased, feeling a bit lighter.

"Yah! Is it wrong to love my girlfriend? I already have to share you with those 7 idiots, Let me enjoy this," Chan said dramatically, pulling her close. He let her straddle his lap and both their core's lightly touched one another.

Another giggle escaped her lips as she leaned in for a quick kiss, feeling warmth spread through her despite her lingering exhaustion.

It did indeed take her longer to enter the shower, mainly because Chan was so committed to making her feel good. Basically she got the best head of her life. When she finally made her way downstairs to the theater, she was immediately tackled by Han, who showered her with kisses.

"I'm so sorry I didn't notice you felt this way! I should have paid more attention. I love you. Do you love me?" he exclaimed, his voice full of concern and affection.

"I love you, Han, and it isn’t your fault. I promise, bub," she replied, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead.

Changbin, who was nearby, chimed in, "I’m sorry for pushing you earlier, babe," as he handed her a takeout plate, realizing Han wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

"You don’t need to apologize, love. I should be the one apologizing for not communicating and just shutting down. I hope you all can forgive me; I haven’t been the best partner," she confessed, her voice a bit shaky.

"Oh hush!" Hyunjin interjected with a warm smile before giving her a kiss on the forehead and heading to his seat. "No need to apologize; we all have our moments."

"Yeah, he’s right. Totally forgotten," Seungmin added, snuggling into Hyunjin's side, a comfortable warmth radiating between them.

She turned to Felix, her heart racing a bit as she hoped he wasn’t angry. "Lix?"

"I could never be mad at you," he said softly, climbing by her side and planting gentle kisses on her cheeks. "I love you."

"I love you too," she replied, feeling her heart swell with gratitude.

The rest of the night was filled with lighthearted conversations and a movie. Everyone eventually drifted off to sleep, and she felt a profound sense of peace wash over her.

"Come on," Chan whispered, gently pulling her out of I.N and Han's grip. They let out little whines but soon settled back into slumber. She crawled onto Chan's lap, and he whispered soothing words to her while rubbing her back.

"Remember to always find me when your lost."

This was her happy place. As her eyes began to close and her breathing evened out, Chan placed a tender kiss on her forehead and held her close, ready to keep her safe until she woke up.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Don't forget to reblog and follow! <3

A/N: Thank you @idoubleswearimawriter!!

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[gothcsz]

Purgatory | Javier Peña x Fem!Reader x Fem!OC | ~7.6k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: A threesome between you, your bestie and Javier Peña.

Tags: smut, no plot all porn, bi!reader, f/f/m threesome, light dom/sub vibes, dirty talk (javi and his filthy mouth), oral (f&m), creampie, unprotected p in v sex (you know the spiel. be safe), a small age gap (very vague but javi is older than them), the ladies 69, cock worship, a hint of anal play, cum eating, riding, costumes are kinda involved, JAVI IN THE DEA JACKET OHHHH MYYY—, little to no physical descriptions of reader or oc, javi speaking spanish because i fucking love it, olivia murphy mention (javi would not willingly be at a halloween party lbr), no use of y/n, beta'd to the point where i think there's still mistakes, as usual other shit i'm probably forgetting (lmk what i missed).

A/N: halloween + women + javi p = a very happy kat 🖤 this is one of those works that i really just wrote for me, but am dedicating to @almostempty because she gave us the really hot and sexy ffm birthday threesome of our dreams and i think about honey quite literally all the time 🥵 this is also for all my bi readers out there 💋 i hope you guys like it mwahhh gracias nenitas (gn) 🖤

The air is thick with fog and the pulsing rhythm of bass as you and your best friend strut through the front door hand in hand, slipping into the sea of costumed bodies at the party.

You’re the devil tonight, red latex hugging your every curve, leaving little to the imagination. Your horns glint in the low, ambient light, and the faint glow of your devilish tail sways just above the edge of your barely-there skirt.

Next to you, your best friend, the angel, contrasts perfectly. Her white wings shimmer, the fluffy halo hovering above her head, while her outfit is just as scandalous as yours— tight, sheer, and angelic in all the wrong ways.

You’ve always been a killer combo, and tonight, you’ve turned it up to eleven.

The two of you catch eyes as the fog machine puffs up clouds around your legs, laughing due to already being tipsy from the pregame at your apartment.

You’ve been playing this game since the night you hooked up with her. It had awakened something inside the both of you, some insatiable thrill, and tonight, you’re both ready to explore it further.

After a few more drinks and some obligatory dancing, your eyes start to scan the crowd, teasing and flirting with guys in passing, each one trying to make their move but none holding your interest.

You feel her breath on your neck as she leans in close, whispering about the bartender from your favorite local spot. He’s always had that flirtatious vibe, and you’ve both fantasized about him more than once.

He seems like a viable candidate, until then he walks in. The man with the neatly trimmed mustache, older and far too sharp for this crowd.

His dark jacket, marked with DEA in bold letters, swings open to reveal a soft pink shirt, unbuttoned just enough to showcase his strong neck and collarbones.

He’s different, you think. Out of place but in all the right ways.

You nudge your friend, biting your lip and pointing discreetly. “Him,” you whisper, giggling softly as you watch her eyes flick toward him. Her gaze sharpens, lips curling into a smirk.

The lighting in the room casts deep shadows across his face, defining his cheekbones, his jawline—making him look like a fucking dream.

“He’s older,” she murmurs, her voice low with excitement, “but he’s exactly what we need.” 

You can’t help but nod, your stomach fluttering. You know it’s the chase that excites both of you.

“How should we do this?” You ask, finishing the rest of your drink in one smooth gulp.

She doesn’t answer right away, her eyes fixed on the handsome stranger across the room. His broad shoulders stretch against the fabric of his jacket, the way he stands having him look like he’s here on business instead of pleasure, and that only makes him more enticing.

Her lips purse slightly in thought, then her tongue peeks out, wetting her bottom lip. “One at a time,” she finally says, “Don’t want to overwhelm him.”

You arch a brow, leaning in a little closer. “He doesn’t look like the type to get overwhelmed so easily,” you counter, eyes trailing over him again. 

“But have you seen us tonight?” 

She’s leaning into you as she asks, her fruity perfume and the feel of her soft skin brushing against yours is so mesmerizing that for a moment, you forget all about the man.

“We do look pretty fucking hot,” you agree, eyes flicking over her curves in that skimpy angel costume. She giggles, a sweet, feminine sound, and scrunches her nose in that cute way she does when she’s feeling playful.

“Exactly,” she doubles down, her gaze still locked on the stranger. “I’ll go warm him up. Then you can come over.”

“How will I know when?”

Her mouth pulls into a slow, knowing smile, and she gives you a wink that feels like a promise. “Trust me,” she purrs, pulling a tube of lip gloss from the tight neckline of her top. The motion draws your eyes to her chest, where the soft swell of her breasts pushes against the fabric, nearly spilling out.

She rolls the gloss over her lips, making sure every inch is shiny and perfect, and then presses them together with a soft, wet sound that makes your mouth go dry. “You’ll know.”

The simple act makes you want to pull her closer, taste the sweetness on her lips yourself. But that’s for later.

“Alright, go get him, angel,” you murmur as you give her a playful smack on the ass while she walks away.

You watch her hips sway, the curve of her body undeniable in that outfit as she crosses the room with purpose. The closer she gets to him, the more seductive her movements become.

You watch her place her hands behind her back when she reaches him, her posture coy and her smile devilish. You can’t hear what she says, but you don’t need to. His attention is locked on her, his dark eyes raking over her figure, intrigued, just as you hoped. 

The party around you blurs into the background, the music muffled, the chatter of voices fading into static. Your focus narrows, locked on the scene unfolding across the room where she works her magic on the handsome stranger.

She’s doing a damn good job too. You watch as she leans in close to him, her body language playful yet suggestive, the way her fingers trail ever so lightly over his arm, her lips in a flirtatious grin.

She arches her back just slightly to showcase her cleavage, flipping her hair over her shoulder in one smooth, practiced motion. That’s when her eyes meet yours—subtle, but intentional, with a glint that sends a jolt straight through you.

That’s your cue.

Your heart races, a wicked smile creeping onto your lips as you straighten your posture and fix your tits in the slutty red top, making sure they’re sitting just right—nice and perfect.

Your heels click against the floor with each confident step as you walk towards them. There’s a rhythm to it, a sway to your hips that mimics the way she had made her approach.

Up close, he’s even sexier than you imagined. The moody lighting casts sensual hues of purple, green, and orange that only help him appear more attractive.

His chiseled jaw, curved nose, high cheekbones. He looks too good to be true. 

Then his dark brown eyes lock onto you, and there’s a flicker in them—hunger. Like he could bare his teeth and eat you whole.

It sends a shiver down your spine. You can feel the weight of his gaze trailing down your body, lingering on your exposed skin, appreciating every inch of you. 

She flashes you a knowing smile when you sidle up to her. “Javier, this is my other half,” she introduces you, your name falling from her lips sweetly. 

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” You can’t help the way your cheeks heat up, feeling giddy.

“This doesn’t seem like your scene, agent.” You purr, eyeing his jacket, “Not a very festive costume, either.”

“Because it isn’t a costume.” He cocks his head to the side, “I just got off work. Had to come by to pick up my niece, Olivia, but it looks like I just missed her.” He licks his lips, “I was on my way out when my guardian angel decided to make an appearance.”

Your friend giggles and you bite your lip. Despite the loud music and other distractions, his voice is so smooth and velvety.

“Wow. A real agent.” Your eyes gleam as you lean in just a bit, close enough to catch the scent of his cologne. “Maybe you should perform a cavity search. Make sure we’re not hiding anything.”

You watch his reaction, a chuckle rumbling low in his throat as he shakes his head.

She sidles up closer, her hand brushing his arm ever so lightly. “Think we could get off with a warning, agent?”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and you can’t help but imagine what that mouth would feel like on you, how those hands—so strong, so capable looking— would feel gripping your hips as he fucked you.

“Looks like I’ve got myself some trouble tonight.” His eyes sweep over your costumes, taking in every detail, from the way your devil horns glint in the light to the way her angel wings shimmer with every movement. “Heaven and Hell. Guess I’m stuck in purgatory, unsure of where I’m headed.”

You exchange a glance with your friend, the two of you silently playing off each other’s energy, feeding into the wicked thrill coursing through both of you.

Her lips curl into a flirtatious smile, her voice as sweet as candy. “We could help you find your way…” she teases, sliding a delicate finger down his chest. 

You can’t help but smirk, loving how the muscles in his chest tense beneath her touch. “Let us be the angel and devil on your shoulders tonight,” you coo, stepping in on his other side, close enough that your body brushes against his. The heat of him is intoxicating, making your skin prickle with excitement.

“And what’s the catch?”

She leans in, her lips almost brushing his ear as she whispers, “The catch?” She feigns innocence, acting like she doesn’t understand his question, letting her fingers toy just beneath the open collar of his shirt, teasing his skin with the softest of touches. 

“There is no catch, handsome. We just want to have some fun.” Your hand grazes the hard line of his jaw, feeling the faint stubble that tickles your fingertips.

“Fun, huh?” his voice drops lower, rougher, enjoying the subtle touches the both of you are giving him right now. “Then let’s get out of here.”

Your mouth presses hungrily against your friend’s, kissing feverishly, like you can’t get enough. Her lips are soft yet demanding, and every time she pulls away for air, you’re right back on her, kissing down her jaw as Javier’s truck speeds down the dimly lit road.

The flickering street lamps that zoom by create an almost rhythmic flash, illuminating the scene in quick bursts—hot, stolen glimpses of skin, hands, lips.

Your fingers are buried in her hair, pulling her closer as her tongue slides against yours, the wet heat between your mouths making your body hum. The two of you are lost in each other, your bodies pressed together as if the world outside doesn’t even exist.

But it does. And Javier is watching.

You steal a glance toward the front, catching his eyes in the rearview mirror. You can see the strain in his jaw, the way his fingers grip the steering wheel a little too tightly.

“Spread your legs, diablita,” Javier’s voice breaks through the thick fog of lust, so smooth and commanding. It’s like a spell the way your thighs part for him, instinctual, as if he controls every muscle in your body with just his voice.

You expose the red lace of your underwear, a matching set to the white one she has adorning her hips as well. You two were planning to end the night with someone in between you.

She pulls back just enough to look at you, her breath heavy, lips swollen and glistening from your kisses. Her eyes are glazed over, lost in the same spell that grips you.

She turns her head slightly, locking eyes with Javier in the mirror, and you can feel the intensity of their silent conversation, like something unspoken passes between them. It’s hot, so fucking hot, the way she looks at him, the way his brown eyes hold her there.

“Now touch her, angel.”

Her hand moves slowly, almost teasingly, fingers skimming down your body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. She’s taking her time, her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Her thumb brushes over your stiffened nipple, causing you to moan softly and she smirks.

She finally reaches the soft skin of your inner thigh, and your breath hitches as her fingers stroke gently, sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

“Like this?” she asks, her voice breathless but playful, eyes returning to Javier in the mirror.

He grunts softly, “Exactly like that.” His eyes flick back to you, and the intensity of his gaze makes your body heat up even more, your hips subtly lifting toward her touch.

“Sexy little set you’re wearing,” Javier muses, “I can only assume our angel has on the same pair?”

Your gaze meets your friend’s, and you both bite your lips, exchanging a flirty look. Slowly, you both nod.

Javier hums in content, his eyes dark and hooded. “Fuckin’ perfect,” he murmurs, “Push it to the side, I wanna see her pretty cunt.”

The command is directed at her, and the second it’s given, she’s already moving. She’s never this submissive, always one to take charge, at least with you, so seeing her so eager and obedient to this man definitely has your clit twitching out of excitement.

Her fingers hook around the flimsy fabric of your thong, and with a quick, teasing tug, she pulls it to the side. The cool air hits your wetness, and you can’t help but let out a soft gasp as you’re exposed to both of them.

Javier licks his lips, his gaze honing in on the sight of your messy folds, the lust in his eyes almost overwhelming.

He shifts slightly in his seat, his cock straining against his pants, painfully hard as he takes in the tantalizing view before him. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath, “go on, spread her open. Get her nice and wet for us.”

The way he says us sends a fresh wave of slick arousal dripping from you.

She doesn’t hesitate. Her fingers move with purpose, sliding between your seam and spreading you wide, showing off every inch of you to Javier’s hungry gaze. Her touch is delicate yet firm, and you shudder as she smears your sticky arousal across your sensitive labia.

Your head falls back against the seat, your breath coming in shallow gasps, lips parted as soft moans spill freely from your mouth.

She leans in closer, her lips brushing against your neck as her thumb presses down on your clit, driving you wild. “You’re so wet,” she whispers, her voice breathy, sending shivers down your spine. Her fingers barely dip inside you before sliding back to spread your lips wide once again.

Javier lets out a low groan from the front seat, his eyes glued to the sight of her playing with your cunt. His hand moves to his crotch, palming himself through his pants, his desire barely contained.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he breathes, his voice rough with restraint. His gaze moves between your parted lips, the slight tremble in your thighs, and finally to the road so he doesn’t kill you all.

“She is so pretty…” your friend adds her voice to the mix, halting her slow, torturous movements. The sudden lack of friction has you whining softly, your hips involuntarily shifting, chasing her touch. 

But then, instead of returning her fingers to your throbbing, wet center, she brings them to her lips, her eyes on yours. You watch, utterly transfixed, as her tongue darts out to kitten lick the slick coating her fingers, tasting you. The sound she makes—a soft hum of satisfaction, like she’s tasting the sweetest thing—sends another wave of ecstasy crashing through you.

“And she tastes so good,” she moans softly, as though she’s sharing a secret, and the way she lingers on her words makes your breath stutter.

Her gaze flicks to Javier, dark and mischievous as she leans forward slightly, her slick fingers shining with your arousal. “Do you want to try her?”

Javier’s jaw tightens at her question, his eyes narrowing as his desire for you both becomes palpable. The car slows as he nears a red light, giving him a moment to glance at her hand, then at you, before his gaze finally returns to her lips.

There’s a beat of silence, the only sound in the car are the heavy breaths coming from all three of you. 

Without a word, Javier leans over from the driver’s seat, his eyes locked on her fingers as he takes her wrist, pulling her hand toward him. His lips part as he slips her fingers into his mouth, his tongue flicking out to taste you from her skin. The groan that escapes him is guttural, a sound that makes your already wet pussy clench with anticipation and her moan pathetically.

“Fuck,” he mutters around her fingers raggedly. His eyes close for a brief second, savoring the taste of you, and when he finally pulls her fingers from his mouth, his gaze is fucking molten.

Before you know it, her lips are on his, their mouths crashing together in a quick, heated kiss. The taste of you still lingers on both of their tongues, and it makes the exchange all the more intense.

You watch them, your pulse quickening, your body already aching for more as you shift in the seat, thighs still spread.

The kiss breaks as quickly as it began, both of them pulling back, breathless. Javier’s hand moves back to the steering wheel as the light turns green, but his focus is still very much on you two, especially on the way you’re squirming , completely undone by what just happened.

“He’s such a good kisser.” She whispers into your ear, tugging at the lobe with her teeth gently.

“Looked real good. I’m kind of jealous,” you reply, breathless, allowing her to touch you all over, however she wants.

“Don’t be. You’ll get a taste of him too.”

Up at the front, his eyes glint with amusement while he watches, pulling into a nearby spot just outside your shared apartment. Finally.

You two lie back on the bed, stripped down to nothing but your matching thongs and the respective headbands of your costumes—your devilish horns and her angelic halo. Your breasts are fully exposed, nipples hardened by how turned on you are. 

Both of you are propped on your forearms, legs bent slightly, eyes lidded with anticipation as you stare up at Javier. 

He hasn’t even shed the damn DEA jacket. It clings so perfectly to his broad shoulders, the fabric hiding what you know to be a powerful frame beneath. His dark eyes roam over the two of you, drinking in the sight like you’re a masterpiece on display. 

He curses under his breath. “Look at you two… practically offering yourselves to me. Mi diablita y mi angelita.” His little devil and angel. 

His lips twitch into a smirk, and the low timbre of his voice has your core throbbing in anticipation.

With a simple motion, he beckons you over. “Ven acá,” he commands softly, his voice low and dripping with authority.

You move slowly off the bed. As you approach, he takes you by the waist, pulling you in suavely until your chest presses against his. Before you can even catch your breath, his lips are on yours. Firm, hungry, and demanding.

The moment his tongue slips into your mouth, it’s as though you’re lost in him, completely addicted to the way he kisses—so controlling and confident. His tongue moves with a fluid rhythm, caressing every part of your mouth like it’s his territory.

You gasp against his lips when his hand slides down to your ass, grabbing a handful of it with a harsh squeeze, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh. The pain mixes with pleasure, making you hiss, your hips instinctively pressing into him.

From the bed, she watches with wide eyes, her own pussy a mess as she witnesses him feeling you up. Her hand twitches, desperate to touch herself. 

Javier grunts, breaking the kiss with your bottom lip still between his teeth, giving it one last teasing tug before letting go.

He turns his attention to her, giving her a smoldering look that makes her breath catch. “Now you, angel. Come here,” he growls, and the urgency in his voice spurs her into action.

She moves toward him with eagerness, her halo slightly askew as she joins you by his side. You bite back a small giggle at how eager she is, but the moment is anything but light as Javier wraps one strong arm around her, pulling her close just as he did with you. His other hand remains firmly on your waist, keeping you close as well, as if he can’t bear to let either of you go.

Then he kisses her the same way he kissed you. His lips mold to hers, his tongue exploring her mouth as she melts against him. You can feel his hand tightening its grip on your waist as they make out, and it’s almost overwhelming, the heat and need radiating off him.

He breaks away from her, licking her bottom lip, eyes dark with lust. “Not sure if I want both of you kissing my cock,” he murmurs, turning his attention back to you, leaning in to nip at your jawline, “Or one of you choking on it while the other has her mouth full of cunt.”

Your hand fists the fabric of his pink shirt, knees weakening as the weight of his words settles deep in your core. Your mouth waters, not knowing which option excites you more.

“Both sound like a very fun time,” she chimes in, trying to pull his focus back to her, but Javier is too busy lavishing your neck with his lips and tongue.

Instead of replying, he sucks a mark into the tender skin just below your jaw, his mouth devouring you, while his hand trails up her body. Without a word, he presses on her shoulder, silently commanding her to kneel. She follows the instruction without hesitation, her body sinking to the floor between you and him.

You hear the familiar sound of his belt being undone, the metallic clink quickly followed by the hiss of his zipper. But everything else fades away when Javier kisses you again, his lips swallowing your soft moans as he takes his time exploring your mouth.

“Take my jacket off,” he mutters and you obey, pushing the heavy fabric off his broad shoulders, revealing the perfect fit of his pink shirt stretched across his muscular frame.

Holy shit. The sight alone makes you want to rip it off him like a feral woman, but you manage to control yourself, though just barely.

He groans, the sound vibrating into your mouth, and your gaze drops to the sight of the angel between his legs. Her hands wrap around his thick shaft, pressing his cock flat against his stomach as her tongue traces the thick vein running along his length.

He’s unlike anyone you’ve been with before, and the realization only makes your pulse race faster.

“Oh fuck,” he groans again, his hand tightening on your ass, squeezing the soft flesh through his fingers. “My shirt, unbutton it.”

Your fingers fumble with how eager you are. The buttons refuse to cooperate, and frustration begins to creep in, but before you can truly lose your patience, Javier senses it. His lips brush your ear as he whispers, “Slowly, diablita, no te apures.”

You nod, forcing yourself to slow down, digits working more carefully now. You undo each button, revealing the bronze expanse of his chest, inch by inch. Your lips part, taking in the view, gaze roaming over every dip and contour of his muscles.

“Mmm,” you moan softly, leaning in to kiss his collarbones, letting your lips linger over his warm skin. You can’t resist biting down lightly, marking him as if he’s yours, even though you hear the sloppy sound of her spitting below, her mouth working his cock in earnest.

“She doesn’t have a gag reflex…” you whisper against his neck, drunk on his grunts of pleasure. You expect to hear approval in his response, but instead, his brows furrow.

“Really?” He growls, fingers tangling in her hair, and without warning, he pulls her off his cock with one smooth motion. She gasps, her eyes are wide and dazed, still high off the taste of him on her tongue.

“A damn shame,” he tilts his head mockingly, “I like hearing my girls gag and choke on it.”

She looks lost for a moment, pretty lips swollen and glossy with his precome, but before she can protest, Javier’s attention shifts to you. His gaze is searing.

“¿Y tú, diablita? You got that party trick too, or am I going to have to break your throat open by shoving my cock down it?”

The filthy words send a sharp pulse of heat through your body, and you can feel the wetness pooling between your legs, soaking your thong and smearing against your inner thighs.

You’re so turned on you could cry, desperate to feel every inch of him inside you.

“Use my mouth, Javier,” you plead, your voice breathy and wrecked, “please.”

A wicked smile spreads across his lips. “On your knees.”

You don’t hesitate, dropping down to the carpeted floor beside her. Javier holds her by her hair, tilting her head up as he addresses her softly, “You did so well, beautiful girl. Now help her get it wet so I can fuck you.”

She obeys, her lips moving to the base of his cock as you take his thick head into your mouth, the taste of him, mixed with her saliva, having your eyes flutter close. Your tongue swirls around his swollen bulbous head, and then you move together, licking and sucking in perfect harmony.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before sliding his thick cock deeper into your mouth. The stretch is intense, and you feel your throat tighten as you try to take him down. At the same time, her lips wrap around the heft of his balls, and the combination of both your mouths working on him draws a low moan from Javier that makes your thighs tense.

Determined to please him, you push yourself further, choking yourself around his length. Your eyes water, tears brimming as you glance up at him, searching for his reaction. He’s already watching you, his lips curled into that cocky, half-smirk you’ve come to crave.

Seeing that expression spurs you on. You start moving your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks with each slow drag, the gagging sound deliberate as your throat tightens around him. Beneath you, she continues lavishing his balls with attention, her mouth hot and eager, and Javier’s groans grow louder, his hips starting to subtly rock into your mouth.

At one point, the two of you get so lost in it, your mouths collide, tongues tangling as you kiss each other with Javier’s cock between your lips. Her hand slips up to your chest, pinching at your nipples as you both work him, and you hear Javier above you, a mess of pleasure as he watches his two pretty girls worship his dick.

His voice drips with authority as he watches the two of you with dark, lust-filled eyes. “Get on the bed, angelita. Hands and knees. Gonna take your pussy from behind while our little devil sucks your clit and licks at my dick while I fuck you.”

The moment you release him from your mouth with a wet pop, you can feel how swollen your lips are, your makeup smeared, eyeliner streaking down your cheeks. You and your friend look like something out of the filthiest, most erotic fantasy, and Javier can’t take his eyes off you. The thought crosses his mind that if he took a photo right now, it’d be worth a fucking fortune.

You both follow his command, positioning yourselves on the bed just as he ordered. She hovers over you, bent over, her ass high in the air, while your head dangles off the edge of the bed in a perfect sixty-nine.

He undresses, his gaze never leaving your bodies, watching with that predatory hunger as you and her begin to tease each other.

The delicate fabric of your thongs are finally gone and her warm breath ghosts over your exposed folds, making your pussy clench in anticipation.

She starts slow, kissing your inner thighs and around your heat but never quite giving you what you need. You can’t help but let out a whine, wrapping your arms around her thighs and pulling her down onto your face. Her soft, slick lips press against your mouth, and you waste no time licking up the seam of her pussy, savoring the headiness of her arousal.

Your moans vibrate against her cunt as you devour her, her taste overwhelming you, familiar but always intoxicating. Your tongue dances between her folds, lapping up her wetness before flicking at her pearl, making her shudder above you.

Her hips begin to roll, grinding down onto your mouth, but the second her lips latch onto your clit, you lose all sense of control. Her fingers spread your folds apart, exposing your sensitive bud to her relentless tongue, and you cry out into her pussy, your hips bucking involuntarily.

The room is filled with the obscene sounds of your wet mouths working each other over. You’re both so immersed in the pleasure of giving and receiving, that you barely register the bed shifting under Javier’s weight until his hands are on her ass. His large palms knead and spank the supple flesh, making her gasp into your cunt as the flesh jostles against your eager tongue.

“Damn. Look at you two. So fucking hot. You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” His voice is a growl, sending a fresh wave of heat straight to your core.

Your only response is a moan as she sucks your clit harder, making cry out. Javier smirks, relishing the sight and sound of you both writhing in pleasure. “I really lucked out tonight.”

He grabs his cock, stroking it as he positions himself behind her. The tip of him slides through along her cunt, teasing her fluttering hole, and you can feel the tremble in her thighs as he lines himself up.

You move your head to kiss and lick the underside of his cock, your tongue tracing the thick vein, working your way down to his balls. Your mouth latches onto them, sucking one into your mouth, your lips wet and hot around him.

You feel her entire body jolt when Javier finally pushes into her, filling her in one smooth, hard thrust. Her moan is muffled by your pussy, her face buried deeper into you, and you can’t help but cry out.

“Oh Javi…” she gasps against you, her voice shaky as she tries to hold herself up, but her face remains pressed to your cunt, her lips still working you over despite the overwhelming sensation of being fucked from behind.

Javier groans above you, his hips rolling into her in deep, slow strokes that make her whimper and squirm against you. “Good job, diablita,” he praises, his voice low and rough. “You hear that?” He thrusts harder, his cock plunging deeper into her, and you hear the slick, wet sound of her cunt weeping around him. “She’s fuckin’ crying for it.”

You can’t even form a response, too overwhelmed by the sensation of her mouth on your clit and your own mouth full of his balls. You’re drunk off the combined pleasure, your body quivering with need, every nerve on fire.

Javier grips her hips tightly, fucking her harder, his pace rough now. Her cries of pleasure are snuffed as she desperately licks at your pussy, her hand skipping down to rub your clit as Javier pounds into her.

The intensity is too much, the pleasure building into a crescendo that has you teetering on the edge of release.

She plunges two fingers inside you, your hips instinctively bucking to meet the pressure, needing more. And she gives it to you, even as Javier pounds the last coherent thought out of her head, his cock relentless inside her.

Every sensation is amplified as your mouth alternates between worshiping the inches of his cock as they disappear and reappear with each powerful thrust, and lapping at her swollen clit, her arousal coating his cock and dripping onto your tongue—sweet, salty, and heady.

Your lips slip from her clit just as her fingers curl inside you, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. You can feel the tension in her body, the way her breath quickens as her head lolls back onto her shoulder, helpless how you’re both making her feel. “I’m right there,” she gasps, breathy and urgent. “Oh god, I’m about to come.”

Her fingers dig deeper inside you, curling, while her thumb expertly flits over your sensitive clit, making your body tremble. Your pussy tightens around her fingers in anticipation, riding that delicious edge with her.

“That’s right, angel,” Javier growls, his voice rough, driving into her with a brutal rhythm. “Come on, make a mess all over this dick.”

His thumb slides down her cunt, collecting the mixture of your saliva, his precome, and her creamy arousal, and without warning, he presses it against her tight, puckered hole. He pushes in slowly, her body tensing, and that’s all it takes.

“Oh fuck, Javi!” she screams, her orgasm crashing into her like a tidal wave. Her fingers freeze inside you as she’s overcome by the intensity of it, her entire body going taut with pleasure

 Her mouth hovers above your pussy, so close, but she’s too far gone to continue pleasuring you.

Javier groans, his hand tangling in her hair, and with one rough motion, he pushes her down, forcing her lips back onto your throbbing heat.

The sudden pressure of her mouth against your overstimulated clit has you yelping, your thighs clenching tightly around her head as the waves of your own orgasm crash into you without warning. Your body shudders, your mouth still working around where their bodies connect, tasting her on him as you both lose yourselves in the euphoria.

He doesn’t let up, thrusting into her through her climax, his grunts echoing in the room. Both of you collapse, sweaty and trembling, drenched in each other’s fluids and completely spent, like you’re drunk off the dizzying mix of sex and pleasure.

But Javier’s far from finished.

“No, don’t quit on me now,” he tuts, his balls heavy and his cock still throbbing with need as he pulls out of her, his slick length absolutely drenched.

Before you can catch your breath, he moves, slipping his cock between your parted lips. Your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion, but the taste of her cum on his velvety shaft makes you moan as you greedily take him into your throat, your tongue swirling around him, desperate to please.

“That’s right, baby,” he groans, his voice thick with satisfaction as he thrusts into your mouth. “Doing so fucking good. Should have you wearing that goddamn halo.”

You hear her soft laugh from beside you as she rolls off, collapsing onto her back, her chest heaving as she stares up at the ceiling, completely blissed out. You feel the heat of his body as he slides out of your mouth, his thumb caressing your cheek before delivering a light slap.

Your skin tingles with the sting, and his next words make your stomach twist with anticipation. “Sit up,” he orders, his voice firm. You obey, your body trembling, ready for whatever he wants next.

“You okay, angel?” Javier’s voice is tender as he hovers over her, planting soft kisses along her flushed skin. His large hands knead her breasts, fingers expertly teasing her nipples with gentle pinches that make her moan.

She arches into him, threading her fingers through his hair, pulling him up for a kiss, their lips meeting with a heated softness.

You can’t resist joining them, your lips finding his shoulder as you bite down on the taut muscle, your teeth grazing the warm skin before you trail your kisses to his neck. He groans into her mouth, making your core ache with need, the sight of them kissing driving your arousal higher.

“I’m fine,” she breathes against his lips, satisfied but not yet spent. “Just need a second. You should play with her. I think she wants you more than I do.”

Javier chuckles, leaving a few more tender pecks on her lips before turning his full attention to you. His dark eyes are almost mocking as they meet yours. “That true?”

You nod without hesitation, not even fully comprehending what you’re agreeing to, but at this point, you’d say yes to anything just to feel his cock inside you, stretching you out, bringing relief to that deep ache.

In one swift motion, he maneuvers you onto his lap, guiding you to sink down on him. Your knees press into the mattress on either side of his hips as you both groan, the tight stretch of him pushing into your wet heat making you gasp.

The burn is exquisite, and the fullness—God, you never want it to end.

You start moving, slowly at first, trying to find a rhythm as your body adjusts to his girth.

His lips latch onto your neck, biting and sucking, leaving blotchy marks all the way down to your breasts. When he wraps his mouth around your nipple, sucking with just the right amount of pressure, you whimper, your pace picking up as the pleasure coils tighter inside you.

His calloused fingers pinch and roll your other stiffened peak, adding to the building tension, making you bounce harder on his cock.

And then you feel her behind you—the soft warmth of her tits pressing against your naked back, her breath hot against your ear as she plays with your hair before sliding down to your hips. Her touch guides your movements, her acrylic nails digging just enough to leave a sting in your skin.

Your head falls back onto her shoulder, your body trembling with the intensity of it all. You catch her eye, and the two of you share a slow, knowing smile, a silent acknowledgment of the intoxicating pleasure you’re both wrapped up in.

Meanwhile, Javier’s lips stay glued to your breasts, alternating between your nipples as he grunts with each bounce, his cock driving deeper inside you, brushing against every sensitive spot.

“You look so good riding his dick. Don’t know if we’re ever gonna top this,” her hand slides up to tilt your jaw, guiding your lips to hers. The kiss is messy, her tongue swirling around your own, and all you can do is moan into it, completely surrendered to the pleasure they’re both giving you.

Javier detached from your chest, mesmerized by the sight of you two kissing. The tension in the air crackles with desire, and he can’t resist joining in.

The three of you come together in a heated, tangled, trio makeout session—lips, tongues, and breath intermingling in a way that feels both chaotic and addicting.

The scratch of his mustache against your skin sends shivers down your spine, while her soft, breathy moans fill your ears like a sweet melody, lulling you deeper into bliss.

His cock twitches inside you, and your walls respond, squeezing him tighter. You can’t help but grind down on him, your body desperate for more. That sensation is enough to break the kiss, both of them pulling back as you gasp for air.

“Gonna come inside you, diablita,” Javier pants out, his voice low and full of heat. “While our angel sits on my face. That okay?”

Better than okay—it’s fucking perfect.

She giggles softly, and you nod, allowing him to reposition you like a doll in his hands, his strong grip shifting you further down the bed while he stays buried inside you. She straddles his face, her thighs quivering as he pulls her down, his lips already teasing her swollen folds.

You start moving again, rolling your hips as the room fills with the heavy scent of sex, the sounds of pleasure. Her moans grow louder, her head lolling forward as she leans to kiss you again, her whimpers melting into your mouth as Javier’s nose nudges her clit and his lips devour her.

You brace yourself, leaning back and planting your hands between his spread legs as you begin to bounce on his cock, the angle hitting that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. You cry out his name, your voice breaking as the pleasure swells. His hands hold her steady, keeping her close while he’s lost between her thighs, groaning into her soaked pussy as he jerks his hips up, meeting your movements.

She kisses down your neck, her lips warm against your hot skin, trailing down to your tits. Her teeth gently tug at your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core before she lowers herself enough to kitten lick over your clit.

You gasp, feeling her mouth move sinfully against your sensitive pearl, then down to where Javier’s thick cock stretches you wide, her lips brushing against the point where he disappears inside you.

The sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced, a dizzying blend of pleasure that’s too intense to put into words. “Fuck, keep doing that—oh shit,” you babble, barely able to form a coherent thought. Your body feels like it’s burning brightly as you fist the sheets beneath you, your head thrown back in pure ecstasy.

Javier groans into her, and you feel him start to lose control, his thrusts becoming more erratic. The three of you move together in perfect rhythm, lost in the heat of the moment, riding the waves of pleasure that threaten to pull you under.

Your breath comes in short, shallow gasps, the pressure inside your core winding tighter and tighter with every stroke, every flick of her tongue.

He growls low and deep, pulling his mouth from her only long enough to mutter through gritted teeth, “Fuck, you two are gonna make me lose it.”

The rawness of his voice sends you spiraling. You grind down on him harder, your hips rocking in desperation as your moans mix with hers, a chorus of pleasure that fills the room. Sweat beads on your skin, slicking your movements as you chase your release.

“Come on,” his voice is strained and muffled by her thick thighs. “I want to feel you fall apart on my cock.”

That’s all it takes. With one more thrust, one more wet suck of her pretty mouth, your body locks up, pleasure crashing over you in an overwhelming wave. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as you come, your walls clenching around him in pulsing waves.

She moans into your overstimulated sex, humping his face, her movements reeking with desperation until she cries out, her thighs trembling around Javier’s head as her orgasm overpowers her.

He’s succeeded in his goal of satisfying you two which in turn satisfies him, his chest shaking with a groan, cock throbbing as he spills into you. The feeling of his cum filling your pussy up sends another shiver of pleasure through your body, prolonging your high.

You’re all spent, bodies buzzing with the aftershocks of your shared release. Javier’s hands loosen their grip on her thighs as she slowly pulls herself off him, collapsing on the bed and you fall forward onto his chest.

His cock is still softening inside you as he wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you close. He presses a kiss to your temple, his breath hot against your skin.

“You two were... fuckin’ perfect,” he murmurs, moving his free hand to rub over her body, making sure to share some comforting, grounding touches with her as well.

She smiles lazily, rolling on her side and cuddling into his side as he wraps his arm around her, her fingers tracing patterns on your naked skin as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, basking in this amazing feeling you don’t think you’ll ever feel again.

The three of you lie there in a tangle of limbs, your heartbeats slowly returning to normal.

His body begins to gear up to slip away, to excuse himself from the bed and let you both rest.

You and your friend exchange a glance, and without saying a word, you share a matching smirk. There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes, and it mirrors your own as you sit up slightly. 

As if on cue, her hand slides down his chest, teasingly brushing over his soft stomach then drifting lower, her nails grazing the skin just above where you’re still connected to him.

At the same time, your fingers trace a slow, sensual path up his neck, your lips brushing against his jawline as you press a gentle kiss there, whispering, “Where do you think you’re going, Javi?”

He groans softly, still a little dazed from the post-coital bliss, but you can already see the spark of renewed interest in his gaze. He shifts and you feel his cock stir again inside you.

“Yeah,” she purrs, leaning in to kiss his neck, her hand slipping lower to toy with him. “We’re not done with you yet.”

Javier chuckles, but there’s a hint of surprise in his voice. “Oh, really?” His hand grips your waist a little tighter as his other palm slides down to cup your friend’s ass, pulling her closer against him. “You two think you can handle me again?”

The playful challenge in his voice only makes you both smile wider. You rock your hips ever so slightly, feeling him hardening inside you. “We know we can,” you murmur, your voice dripping with lust.

“And we’re not letting you go until we’ve had our fill.”

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️ : @magneticecstasy . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @persephone-girl . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled .

@puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @pepperstories . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @angiewatson . @dinanabuu . @sunshinefive .

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

Hazbin Hotel characters react to your stims

(I'm doing my personal favorite characters, so if there are others you wanna see, ask me. They may also be slightly OOC.)

Vox

You can't convince me this man doesn't also have ADHD. He's just spent decades masking it, as well as most of himself, to present a perfect image. Probably heard the term as it got more well known but didn't really connect the dots until meeting you.

He fidgets a lot, tapping his claws, bouncing his legs, can't sit in a fucking chair properly.

Doesn't realize he's overstimulated and burnt out from multi tasking dozens of screens until you point it out.

Once he's aware of it you help him manage his work better so he can be less stimulated and tense. You buy him proper fidget toys to mess with and he makes himself some top of the line bass boosted sound canceling headphones. He gives you a pair, too. When you're both alone, you look up songs with loaded bass in 8d just to watch each other twitch and involuntarily move your head with the sound.

That's about the extent of the conscious level of unmasking he'll do though. He gets self conscious.

But, he adores the fact you're comfortable enough to stim around him. Or in public. He can and will violently end people for even giving you dirty looks for stimming in public.

If you show excitement and joy over being around someone through happy noms he will literally get heart eyes. Just be careful where you bite him because it may lead to something else.

He's happy to let you stim, which means tricking him into doing it more.

He remembers and sub consciously absorbs your echolalias or any word replacements you use. If you do a lot of call and response vocals he learns them. (Call and response is basically when you memorize a sound with two people. One calls the other responds. You can just say both parts yourself ((I do)) but it's more satisfying with someone else).

If you do happy flappies this man will short circuit. (He will laugh if you accidentally smack yourself though).

If you squeal and kick you may give him a heart attack. He thought you were hurt or something. He gets used to it eventually but it still startles him.

Vox is also a chatter box so you two can info dump about special interests to each other for hours. Neither one of you expects the other to remember details, but the fact you don't tell each other to shut up and are content to do your own thing while listening to your partner/friend gush is enough.

He has long since forced himself into strict routines so if you struggle to get tasks started or get distracted in the middle of them he's understanding but stern. Tends to cause more harm than good because he talks down to you unintentionally.

If you're a visual/hands on learner he also gets frustrated with you for wasting hours trying to figure it out yourself and getting yourself upset instead of just letting him do it for you. You get into a lot of fights about it at first. He gets better when he sees it genuinely prevents you from enjoying things or trying new things and that you just kinda default to defeated and helpless. He didn't mean to make you feel dumb, he just doesn't understand why you wouldn't want help. Until the tables turn and as he's getting worked up over something he can't figure out and you just stare at him.

He finally snaps at you what the hell you're doing and you smirk "need help? Why don't I just do it for you and you watch? Come on, you've been struggling for an hour, stop being so stubborn and just let me do it. I'll show you later, it's not hard." You feed his own lines back at him and his stomach drops.

"Oh....that feels...mmmm. Nope! Don't like that. Ok. Won't happen again, doll."

Realistically if you work with him and you make mouth noises a lot (bird whistles, tongue clicks, humming, random shrieks) he will get annoyed. It's distracting him and sometimes you don't realize you're doing it and mess up anything he tries to record. The first few times he snaps at you and it causes problems (hello rejection sensitive dysphoria) but eventually he learns how to better talk to you/communicate without accidentally convincing you he hates you.

Alastor

Probably on the spectrum himself, but it also could just be his anti-social habits. Either way he finds you entertaining and your bouts of sporadic energy and gremlin like behavior don't phase him. He's been dealing with Niffty for years.

If you sing or hum a lot to get work done, or listen to music he's all for it. But if you're the type of ADHD where work fast music=horny and bass he'll insist you wear headphones. If you're content to listen to swing (he'll compromise with electroswing) or jazz, he'll play the radio for you.

He doesn’t even care if you're a good singer or not, he just likes seeing you get into it. Will show off by singing it better than you though.

If you're someone who picks your fingers or skin, he'll slap your hands. You bleeding is making him hungry and distracting him. He'll find you something else to do with your hands. Same with nail biting.

He tends to pull his hair when stressed so if you stim with your hair he gets it and unless it's harmful (eating/pulling) he'll leave it, but if you're like him he's either cutting your hair short or braiding it.

Will die before admitting it but thinks you flapping, hopping, clapping, squealing is the most adorable thing ever. Also, laughs at you if you smack yourself, though.

Doesn't understand your memes so half your echolalia go over his head and he just kinda stares at you.

Scolds you for not sitting in the chair properly.

Smiles, nods, and occasionally says "that's nice dear" when you info dump. It's not that he doesn't care, he just can't listen to something he's not interested in for that long.

Mouth noises make his eye twitch but so long as they don't interrupt him, he won't scold you.

He understands you're not dumb but he also doesn't have the patience to help your or wait for you to get things done so he does them for you and tells you stop pouting when you get upset with him.

He likes you enough to not reject your touch and enjoys being in your space, but please refrain from happy biting the cannibal. He will bite back and it's less cute when he does.

Lucifer

The original AUDHD. You two chatter for hours about special interests.

He makes you stim toys.

You two do the adhd laugh so hard over dumb shit you gotta hold onto and smack each other thing. You both wind up on the floor.

Literally would never talk down to you or trigger your RSD. He's spent centuries feeling like he's constantly annoying, dumb, and struggling to time manage and do tasks.

Is equally fed up with people offering to do things for him because he can do it he just needs help getting started. The more you ask if he wants you to do it or when he's gonna do it the harder it is. So you two just sorta hobble together a system for getting shit done.

It's not perfect but if it gets outta hand he can just snap his fingers and fix it.

He happy flaps with his hands and wings and constantly knocks you or other shit over. It embarrasses him but you're in love. You two sometimes hold hands to do the happy bounce squeal, shaking each other.

He initiates happy bites more than you do. Honestly you both start looking like chew toys.

You two echolali all the time and share new ones you find. If you ever can't find each other, just shout one of your current vocal stims and he'll respond.

Literally, the definition of choas couple.

[livingddeadgirlrl]

nate jacobs smut (cw: degradation, creampie, size kink, videoing… yeah)

wc: 2.7k, 2 parts

It was your last finals week of your high school career. you were absolutely drained from the hours of testing and all of the studying you had done. you came back from school, bag slung over your shoulder, trudging to your room. after your long day, all you wanted to do was lay down, but you couldn’t even do that. your brother’s room was right across the hallway from yours, always causing disturbance. your asshole brother was the same grade as you, but the complete opposite. he was a total fucking dipshit. he was om the football team, always drunk as shit, and probably failing all his classes, per usual. he always had his loud ass jock friends over, screaming at the top of their lungs over the most idiotic things. they were always either watching porn on full volume, slamming doors, and stomping as loud as possible as they walked around the house. you were really not in the mood for their antics today, already pissed off from all of your exams. you got to your room and slammed the door shut, letting your brother and his friends know that you were home. tossing your bag onto your ground loudly, you began to quickly slide your jeans off, then pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it onto your bed. you always had cute undergarments, and today you were wearing a cute pink and black lace thong with a black bow on the waistband and strappy sides, and a matching bra that accentuated your pretty tits so perfectly. you were always naturally girly, always looking so perfect, almost like a doll, even when you weren’t trying. you changed into your little lounge dress, pulling it over your head as you stretched your arms up- it was a white babydoll dress with black bows all over and black lace trim. your hair was still slightly curled from your earlier appearance, but it was now looking a bit more disheveled. your lips were still a soft red shade and a little bit glossy, your cheeks a soft rosy shade. you plopped down on your bed face first, your ass up in the air. you could hear the pounding bass coming from music in your brother’s room, and several male voices inside. you rolled your eyes. they kept laughing at full volume, making your blood boil. you were about to snap. “CAN YOU PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP?!” you yelled out at the top of your lungs. only a few moments later, there was a hard pounding on your door. you sighed and hissed out, “what.” then, there it was. the door opened with a slight creak, and your least favorite friend of your brother’s was there. the one who leaked your nudes to the football team last year. the one who continuously slut shamed you in the hallways at school. the one who would always take long and obvious glances at your thighs when your skirt was just a little bit too short. nate jacobs, the star quarterback and prized student of east highland high school, was standing in your doorway. you barely turned your head to take a short glance at him, letting out a small sigh. your positioning on your bed gave him a clear shot of all your precious bits- your cute thong under your dress that covered your slit juuust barely. your legs were up in the air and crossed behind you, with hello kitty socks on your feet.

“sup y/n. long time no see..” he said softly in that stupid cocky tone that bitch always had, leaning on your doorframe with no shirt on. for some reason this guy, along with all of the other football players, had an odd obsession with going shirtless any time they got the opportunity. i mean, not like you were complaining. his body was so perfect to look at. you hated how he made your stomach fill with butterflies and your panties just a little bit damp at the sight of him. ‘what do you want..” you mumbled out. “just coming to check in on my favorite little whore. i see you haven’t changed a bit,” he smirked, letting his glance travel up your legs. “fuck you,” you hissed out. “well you see… that’s why i came here.. to do juuust that,” he said through a soft chuckle, fully entering your room now and pressing the door closed with his bare and muscular back. “yeah fucking right. you know i hate your guts” you retorted. he turned the lock on your door without saying a word and slowly walked over to the foot of your bed, standing right behind your legs. he slid his big hand up the side of your shin, playing with the lace on your hello kitty socks. you tried your best to ignore him, but his touch was just so addictive. he began to slide his hand down your shin, caressing the back of your thigh and giving it a light squeeze. you picked up your phone, scrolling through your instagram feed to show that you were still ignoring him. he let out a low chuckle and decided to take things up a notch. he wasn’t gonna let you ignore him. he got down on his knees at the foot of your bed, his mouth oh so close to your thighs now. he leaned in even closer, placing small kisses all over the insides of your soft and plush thighs, trailing up towards your thong. you let out a small little squeak like sound, unintentionally letting him know that he was getting to you. he slid both of his hands up the back of your thighs and up to your pretty hips. he gave another squeeze, slightly harder this time. he gripped your hips, pulling you up slightly so you were now resting on your knees. his hands were so fucking big, making you look so small compared to him as his grip completely enveloped your hips. he tucked his fingers underneath the waistband of your thong, beginning to slowly slide it down past your hips, then your thighs, and then your knees, oh so slowly. your cheeks immediately began to flush, still looking at your phone, not wanting him to see your reactions. with absolutely no warning, he pressed his lips to your puffy clit, lapping in between your folds with some intensity. this caused you to jerk forward slightly, not expecting the sudden contact. He chuckled lowly again, pulling away slightly. “if you hate my guts so much, why are you soaking right now, hm?” he asked in a low and seductive tone, his breath hitting your folds lightly. ‘shut up..” you muttered softly, pressing your chin and mouth into your soft pink bedding. “just admit it. you’re a fuckin slut who loves attention,” he replied in a slightly stern tone, brushing his fingertipslightly around your pretty pink and slick pussy. “no, i’m not,” you said into your sheets again. “i bet if i pulled out my phone and taped me fucking your pretty little pussy, you would’nt even fight back. you’d probably just let me have my way with you,” he began pressing his middle finger into your cunt, watching it get sucked in. you let out a tiny little whimper. his fingers were so long and thick, you could only imagine what his cock was like… probably really long… really thick… make you feel really good… oh god. you were getting so turned on, and the way your pussy was clenching around just his one finger was telling him all he needed to know. he slowly pulled his finger out and stood up, leaving you unsatisfied and needy. you didn’t wanna let that show, though, so you kept scrolling on your phone, swapping through apps and doing absolutely nothing. you didn’t hear your door open, so you knew he didn’t leave, but you had no idea what he was doing. (cont in pt 2 :>)

[puppym3]

Could you maybe write a fic based off of your favorite fancam? I know it sounds like a weird suggestion but I'm curious

⌦ .｡.:*♡ "take you home tonight"

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

playboy!seungmin x fem!reader

"let’s get out of this noisy place without anyone knowing no bad intentions just wanna know you more"

synopsis: seungmin knows you from mutual friends, and he always thought you were cute but you've never interacted with him. you both were at a house party you both were invited to and once he finally grabbed your attention, he never let it go.

wc: 5.7k

warnings: MDNI 18+, playboy!seungmin, cocky!seungmin, alcohol consumption, pining, tension, confessions, seungmin knows he's hot, at least he's respectful, seungmin is a little bit of a tease, text message segments, kissing, piv, protected sex, brief oral (f rec.), fluffy, seungmin wins reader's heart over, (lmk if i missed any!)

a/n: honestly, this really confused me at first, but then it really intrigued me and i couldn't stop thinking about it. thank you anon for giving me this change to dig deeper and be more creative with my writing!! before we start the fic, i should let you guys know what my favorite fancam is!!!

it's seungmin's "my house" fancam from the 2020 SBS music awards!! you can watch it here! i think it's the way he moves in it that's just so addictive, i've probably watched it millions of times, i suggest you watch it too!

let me know in the comments what your favorite fancam is! <3 (ALSO pls pls leave suggestions in my inbox i literally love doing these)

here's the song on spotify, as well!

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

The thumping bass of the music vibrated through the walls of the house, mingling with chatter and laughter. You navigated through the crowd, holding a red solo cup filled with some concoction you barely knew the name of. It was one of those typical college house parties—loud, chaotic, and bursting with energy.

You kept on losing your friends through the crowd of drunk dancing people, and the dim lights didn't help at all. The place was huge too, either someone rented out a mansion for the night, or they just happened to own a place this huge, and also had enough money to turn this place into a club-like setting.

Relieved to have found a quieter corner in the sprawling mansion, you took a moment to catch your breath and gather your thoughts. The night had been a whirlwind so far, and you couldn't help but feel a little lost in the chaos. You sipped your drink, scanning the room for any familiar faces.

Seungmin, a familiar face from your mutual friends, spotted you from across the room, his eyes lighting up when he saw you alone. He had been trying to catch your attention all night, but every time he got close, you seemed to disappear into the crowd.

Seungmin, little did he know, you were purposefully avoiding letting him come close to you all night. You barely knew the guy, sure, but every single time you've seen him, his charms made you undeniably angry, always seeming to have a different girl attached to his side.

He's a playboy, and you didn't want to get yourself tangled up in his game, you didn't want to be used for a quick fling, no matter how sexy he was.

So you continued to evade him, making sure to keep your distance from the boy who, even though you've never had a full conversation with, you couldn't get out of your mind.

Contemplating the chaos inside, you made a conscious decision to seek some fresh air and stepped out onto the balcony, feeling the cool breeze on your face. The night was quiet out here, a stark contrast to the party inside. You took a deep breath, trying to clear your head.

After a few minutes, you felt ready to dive back into the chaos. You re-entered the mansion, weaving through the crowd once more. As you made your way back to the dance floor, your eyes landed on Seungmin.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes in exasperation at the uncanny ability of fate to always lead you to the one person you least wanted to encounter.

He was dancing in the middle of the room, his body moving effortlessly to the rhythm of the music. His hips swayed with a natural grace that was almost hypnotic. He was laughing, his face lit up with genuine joy, and for a moment, you forgot everything else about him.

You couldn't help but be mesmerized by the way his body moved, how charming he was even when nobody was watching.

For the first time, you saw him without the usual entourage of girls. It was just him, immersed in the rhythm, completely unaware of the eyes on him. The way he moved was magnetic, and despite your better judgment, you felt a pull towards him.

Before you knew it, your feet were moving, carrying you closer to the dance floor. You tried to keep your distance, but your eyes never left him. Seungmin's dance was intoxicating, and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in the sight.

Then, as if sensing your presence, Seungmin looked up and caught your gaze. His eyes locked onto yours, and a slow, confident smile spread across his face. He held out his hand, an invitation in his eyes.

You hesitated, your mind racing. Every instinct told you to turn around and walk away, to avoid the playboy who had captured your attention. But something inside you wanted to see where this moment could lead.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward, closing the distance between you and Seungmin. His smile grew as he pulled you into his arms, his hands settling on your hips. The tension between you was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife.

"Look who finally stopped running," he teased, his voice low and smooth.

You smirked, trying to keep your cool. "Look who's finally dancing solo. What happened to your other girls?"

Seungmin's smile widened, a playful glint in his eyes. "I figured they were getting in the way of something I really wanted."

You raised an eyebrow, a touch of skepticism in your voice. "And what’s that?"

"Getting to know you," he said smoothly, his fingers lightly tracing your hips as he guided you into the rhythm of the music. "I've been trying to catch your attention all night, but you keep slipping away."

You tilted your head, a smirk playing on your lips. "Maybe I was trying to avoid you on purpose."

"Really?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. "And why would you want to do that?"

"Because you have a reputation," you said, your voice tinged with a mixture of defiance and curiosity. "One that doesn’t exactly scream ‘relationship material.’"

Seungmin chuckled, his grip on your hips tightening slightly. "What if I told you that my reputation is all just a show?"

"I'd call you a liar," you said, your voice teasing. "Because I've seen the way you flirt with anything in a skirt."

Seungmin spun you around, your back now pressed against his chest. His voice was low, his breath warm against your ear.

"And what if I told you that there's more to me than just a pretty face?"

You shivered, goosebumps rising on your skin. Your mind was telling you to run, to get away from the playboy who had captured your attention. But your body was telling you something else.

You leaned back into him, the heat of his body seeping through the thin fabric of your dress. "I'd say prove it," you challenged.

Seungmin's hand slid from your hip to your stomach, pulling you closer to him. "Come to my house tonight," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'll show you everything."

"Why should I trust you?"

"You shouldn't," he admitted. "let me earn it."

You bit your lip, your heart racing. You knew it was a bad idea, but You found it impossible to ignore the undeniable chemistry that crackled between the two of you.

Seungmin’s hand rested on your lower stomach, his touch firm yet gentle as he guided your movements with the music. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, mingling with the intensity of the night. His proposition tugged at your desires, yet caution whispered warnings in your mind, leaving you torn.

You were just about to make your decision when the song changed, the beat shifting from fast and pulsing to something slow and seductive. Seungmin's hand moved from your stomach to either side of your hips, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Last chance to get away," he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

With a sharp intake of breath, you turned around and pulled Seungmin closer. His body pressed against yours, and you felt your skin burning up.

"If you get any funny ideas, I'm out." You huffed, acting like you totally weren't being swooned.

The bass of the music was heavy, and the heat of the room was nearly suffocating, but nothing could compare to the electricity between you and Seungmin. You were pressed up against each other, dancing with a natural ease.

Seungmin had his hands on your waist, and you had yours around his neck. The two of you moved in sync, as if you had done this a thousand times before. It was exhilarating, and you felt as if you were flying.

Seungmin smiled, and you felt your heart flutter. You had been avoiding him all night, but now you couldn't get enough of him.

As the music shifted to a faster pace, Seungmin's hands moved to the small of your back, and you felt his body moving with yours. The two of you were practically wrapped around each other, and you couldn't help but revel in the way he made you feel.

He was dangerous, but you couldn't resist him. He was a playboy, but there was a part of you that wanted to see where things could go.

The night went on, and Seungmin's offer remained on the table. You kept your distance, but you couldn't get him out of your head. When the party started to wind down, and the crowd began to disperse, Seungmin held his hand out to you.

"So, are you coming with me?" he asked, a smile on his face.

The words were simple, but they carried weight. You looked at him, and the temptation was almost too much to resist.

You thought back to all the rumors you had heard about him, the countless girls he had charmed and seduced, but you didn't care right now.

There was something about him that drew you in, and even though you knew it was a bad idea, you couldn't say no.

"Okay," you breathed, taking his hand.

The two of you made your way out of the mansion, and Seungmin led you to his car. The night was quiet and still, and the moon was high in the sky. It was as if the world had paused, giving you a moment to breathe before diving into the unknown.

"This is it," Seungmin said, his voice low and steady.

What did he have planned? Was he planning to just invite me here like all of his other quickies and make me leave the next morning? Or was he being serious?

The questions raced through your mind as you looked up at the apartment. It was smaller than you expected it to be, and in a quiet neighborhood. You had imagined him living in a luxury high rise, but this was surprisingly humble.

Seungmin held his hand out for you, and you took it, letting him guide you up the stairs. His hand was warm and reassuring, and for a moment, you could almost forget that you were in the home of a notorious playboy.

"Make yourself comfortable," Seungmin said, his tone soft and inviting.

You blinked in surprise, 'make yourself comfortable?' You thought he would jump you the moment you stepped foot in his place. But instead, he was offering you a seat, a drink, and an ear to listen.

You couldn't remember the last time you had spent an evening with someone in such an intimate setting. Usually, if you were to go home with someone, it was because they were expecting something to happen.

But tonight, it was different.

Seungmin was patient and attentive, asking questions about your life, and listening intently to your answers.

When would he drop the facade and make a move on me?

You questioned repeatedly, feeling a growing sense of anticipation building within you.

"Are you cold?" Seungmin asked, noticing how you had unconsciously wrapped your arms around yourself.

"Um, yeah, a little," you lied, knowing full well that you were just nervous.

Seungmin slipped his jacket off, draping it over your shoulders. "There you go," he said, his voice low and smooth. "That better?" The warmth of his jacket and the smell of his cologne surrounded you, and for a moment, you couldn't find the words to speak.

"Thank you," you managed, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach. He had only given you his jacket, and yet your heart was beating like a jackhammer. You couldn't deny that you were attracted to him, and that you wanted him to keep on stripping.

But Seungmin surprised you again, by not making any move. It started agitating you, the anticipation of him not doing anything was killing you.

"Are you okay?" Seungmin asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Yes! No! I mean- I'm fine, it's just..."

"Just what?" he prompted, his voice soft and understanding.

"You're not gonna, y'know..."

"Gonna what?" he asked, a look of genuine confusion on his face.

You huffed, your cheeks red. "I mean, isn't this when you'd, like, y'know, make a move or something?"

Seungmin bursted out laughing, shaking his head. "Is that what you think this is? Me, bringing you back to my place so I can have my way with you?"

You pouted, a look of embarrassment on your face. "Isn't it? Don't you bring girls back to your apartment for this reason?"

Seungmin shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. "This is the first time I've invited any girl to my place," he admitted, "why? Did you want something to happen?"

"I- what? No, no!" you protested, but the blush on your cheeks betrayed you.

Seungmin's smile widened, and he leaned closer to you, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Are you sure about that?"

Your breath hitched in your throat, and the tension in the air was palpable. You could feel his body heat radiating off him, and the urge to close the gap between you was overwhelming.

"Y-yes, I'm sure," you stammered, but your eyes gave you away.

"Really?" he murmured, his hand brushing against your cheek.

"I mean, why did you bring me here, if not to... do things?" you asked, the curiosity getting the best of you.

Seungmin's smile faltered slightly, and he looked away, as if embarrassed. "I like you," he said quietly, "and I wanted to spend time with you, get to know you, in private."

You couldn't believe it, he didn't even try anything at all. He really did just want to spend time with you.

"You don't have to lie, you barely know me, how can you like me?" you huffed, a bit annoyed at his antics.

"Because, I don't chase, and for the first time in my life, I want to."

Your heart skipped a beat, his words catching you off guard. You looked at him, and you saw nothing but sincerity and vulnerability in his eyes.

"You like me?" you asked, disbelief and hope intermingling in your voice.

"I do," he affirmed, his gaze locked on yours. "I've been trying to talk to you for months, but you've been keeping your distance."

"I just didn't want to be another one of your conquests," you admitted, your voice soft.

"And what if I told you that I haven't slept with anyone else since I met you?" Seungmin asked, his voice laced with emotion.

You blinked, not believing what you were hearing. "You... haven't?"

"No, I haven't. I haven't wanted to," he said, his eyes holding yours.

Your heart raced, the emotions swirling within you threatening to overwhelm you. "I don't understand,"

"What's not to understand?" he asked, his voice soft and tender.

"Wouldn't liking me make you want to fuck me even more?" you challenged, trying to make sense of his words.

Seungmin sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I want more than that," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

"I want more than sex," he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. "I want more than a night."

His words pierced your heart, and you were at a loss for words. You couldn't deny the indescribable feelings he was bringing out of you.

You felt his hand cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin.

"So, do you want more?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You breathed, your voice shaking.

Seungmin's grip on your hip tightened, pulling you closer to him. You could feel his body heat, the smell of his cologne, the sound of his heartbeat. It was intoxicating.

He leaned closer, his lips barely brushing against yours. You could feel the electricity between you, the desire for more.

You didn't care about his background anymore, you didn't care if he had an uncountable amount of women before you, you wanted to be the best, the last, you wanted to be all his.

Seungmin’s breath was warm against your lips, and the intensity of the moment made your heart race even faster. You felt like you were caught in a whirlwind of emotions, and the world outside seemed to disappear. The only thing that mattered was the proximity of his lips, the warmth of his touch, and the promise of something more.

You closed the gap, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. Seungmin responded eagerly, his hands moving to cradle your face as he deepened the kiss. It was as if he was pouring all his emotions into that single, electric contact, and you could feel every ounce of it.

The kiss was slow and exploratory, as if both of you were savoring the moment and the connection between you. Seungmin’s lips were soft and insistent, and you could taste the sweetness of his breath mingling with the lingering taste of your drink. It was a kiss that spoke of longing, of desire, and of something more profound than just physical attraction.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily, faces flushed with emotion. Seungmin’s eyes were locked onto yours, filled with a mixture of hope and vulnerability. As if it was the first time he's ever kissed in his life.

"What does this mean?" he asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

You brushed his thumb over his cheek, a smile playing on your lips. "It means that I'm done running," you murmured, your voice thick with emotion.

"And?" Seungmin prompted, his gaze intense and unwavering.

"And," you began, taking a deep breath, "I want to be more than a night with you as well."

Seungmin exhaled, a look of relief and happiness washing over his features. He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if he was afraid to let go. You wrapped your arms around him, the feeling of his embrace enveloping you. It was as if the whole world had stopped, and it was just the two of you in that moment.

"Thank you," he breathed, his voice filled with emotion. "Thank you for giving me a chance."

You buried your face in his neck, breathing in the scent of his cologne and reveling in the feel of his body against yours. You could stay like this forever, you thought, but reality soon set in.

You reluctantly pulled back, meeting his gaze. "So, what now?" you asked, your voice laced with anticipation.

"Now," Seungmin began, a smirk spreading across his face, "Can I take you out on a date, maybe?"

You couldn't help but giggle at the hopeful expression on his face, "Of course," you replied, your heart fluttering with excitement.

"How about tomorrow?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face.

You nodded, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You couldn't believe this was happening, and part of you still wondered if it was a dream.

He leaned in and captured your lips in another but shorter kiss.

When he pulled back, you found yourself unconsciously chasing his lips, stopping when you realized what you were doing.

Seungmin smirked, and the look on his face sent a shiver down your spine.

"Are you going to keep teasing me?"

"Do you want me to?" he countered, his seductive tone back.

You playfully hit his chest, the flusteredness showing on your face.

"You were the one who told me to 'not try anything funny'." he teased, his fingers trailing over the back of your hand.

You wanted to curse at past you for setting you up like that. And at him for using it against you at this moment.

You wanted to tease him back, it wasn't fun being the only one cock-blocked.

"You can take your jacket back," you said, taking it off and handing it to him.

He looked at you, confused.

"I won't be needing it."

You brought your hands to the back of your dress, pretending to slowly unzip it.

His eyes widened and his face was red when he realized what you meant.

"Wait, so does this mean- Are you-"

"I don't know, am I?" you taunted, enjoying his reaction.

He blinked a couple of times, trying to process the situation.

"But aren't we going to date first?" he asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Dating doesn't equal fucking."

His breath hitched in his throat and he looked at you as if you were an entirely new person.

"Did I surprise you?" You said, removing your hands from the back of your dress.

He was too stunned to say anything.

"Good night, Min,"

"W-what? Are you not staying?" he asked, disappointment laced in his voice.

"We have a date tomorrow, right?"

You turned away and made your way to the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow,"

"But-"

You didn't bother to hear him out, closing the door behind you.

You were dying laughing, all the way down to the bottom of the apartment.

Suddenly you felt a buzz, a text came in from your phone.

Seungmin: I wasn't expecting that.

You: You said you wanted to chase.

Seungmin: You got me,

Seungmin: Goodnight.

Seungmin: See you tomorrow.

Seungmin: Sleep well.

Seungmin: Text me when you get home.

As you turned off your phone, a mix of excitement and anticipation lingered, and you couldn't help but wear a stupid smile on your face. You knew he had you hooked.

***

You laid in bed, Seungmin still flooded in your head. The smell of his cologne ghosted your senses and the memory of his lips on yours replayed in your mind.

"I'm so fucked,"

You eventually fell asleep, excited for tomorrow.

When you woke up the next morning, the first thing you did was reach for your phone to check your messages. It was still early, so there were no texts from Seungmin on your phone.

But someone else did message you overnight, your friend who invited you to that party.

> I heard you left with Seungmin. I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU DIDNT DO ONE-NIGHT STANDS!!!

> Did you use protection?? please tell me you used protection.

> You're not even responding...

> Oh god, what happened??

> Don't tell me you're dead, naked, and your body is in a forest somewhere???

> You're still not answering.

> At least tell me if the d was big though? Did he know how to use it?

> Wait, don't tell me, I don't want to know.

> OMG WHAT IF YOURE PREGNANT WITH HIS BABY.

You couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter, your friend was always one for drama. You decided to leave her on read, knowing that she'll be annoyed with your lack of response.

It didn't take long for Seungmin to text you.

Seungmin: Morning,

Seungmin: Do you have any plans today?

You: Yeah, I have this really hot date in a little bit.

Seungmin: I'm jealous.

Seungmin: He should know you're mine.

You: Come pick me up, Min.

You: So you can remind me.

Seungmin: Address?

You sent Seungmin your address, excitement bubbling within you as you prepared for your date. Your heart raced with anticipation, and you found yourself fidgeting with every little detail of your outfit.

When the doorbell rang, it felt like time slowed down. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in your chest, and swung the door open. There he was, standing on your doorstep with a charming smile and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. The sight of him sent a surge of desire through you, making you want to drag him inside and forget all the plans you had for the day.

“Hi,” he greeted, his smile widening as he held out the flowers. “I thought these would brighten your day.”

You took the bouquet, feeling your cheeks flush. “Hi. Thank you, they’re beautiful.”

Seungmin’s eyes sparkled with genuine warmth as he looked at you. “Ready for our adventure?”

You nodded, your excitement palpable as you stepped out and closed the door behind you. The day was just beginning, and you could already tell it was going to be special.

The first stop was a museum, a place you had never been before. Seungmin seemed to know all the best exhibits and shared interesting facts with you as you wandered through the halls. His enthusiasm was contagious, and you found yourself captivated by his passion for art and history.

Next, he took you to a quaint little café for lunch. The food was delicious, but what stood out the most was the way Seungmin made you feel. His attention was solely on you, and every moment was filled with easy conversation and laughter. Despite your attempts to pay for your share, he insisted on covering the bill, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he did so.

After lunch, Seungmin took you shopping. You roamed through boutique stores, trying on clothes and laughing together as he gave you his playful opinions on various outfits. His generosity was evident as he insisted on buying you a stunning dress you had your eye on, despite your protests.

As the day wound down, you returned to Seungmin’s apartment. The atmosphere shifted as you walked in, the intimate setting contrasting with the excitement of the day. Seungmin pulled out his guitar, a soft smile on his face.

“Let me show you something,” he said, settling into a cozy spot on the couch and gesturing for you to join him.

You watched in awe as he began to strum a gentle melody. His fingers moved skillfully over the strings, and his voice, smooth and heartfelt, filled the room with a beautiful song. It was a side of Seungmin you hadn’t seen before, and you were mesmerized by his talent. The way he played and sang seemed almost magical, and you found yourself lost in the music.

When he finished, you were already snuggled up next to him on the couch, a contented sigh escaping your lips. The movie playing in the background was a mere backdrop to the warmth and closeness between you. You didn’t care about the film; all your focus was on Seungmin and the comforting presence he provided.

Seungmin’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. His touch was gentle, and you could feel his heartbeat against your back. His voice, soft and slightly teasing, broke the silence. “Did I earn your approval?”

You turned your head slightly to look at him, a playful smile on your lips. “Hmm, I don’t know.”

He feigned concern, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at you. “You don’t know?”

You didn’t answer him right away. Instead, you shifted your position, climbing onto his lap so that you were facing him. The move was intimate and bold.

His hands rested on your thighs, and he looked up at you with curious eyes.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and leaned in to capture his lips in a slow, passionate kiss. He eagerly reciprocated, his hands traveling to your hips.

As the kiss intensified, you could feel your arousal growing, and the ache between your legs was almost unbearable.

You ground your hips down against his, and he let out a low moan, his fingers digging into your hips.

You could feel his bulge pressing against you, and the friction of his hardness against your core was driving you crazy.

"Fuck, I need this," you breathed, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

He lifted his arms, allowing you to remove his shirt.

As soon as his shirt was off, his lips were back on yours, kissing you with an almost desperate urgency.

His hands traveled up your back, pulling at the zipper of your dress. He removed your dress and tossed it on the floor, leaving you in nothing but your bra and panties.

He looked at you, taking in the sight of your body. His gaze was filled with lust and hunger, and his touch was electric on your skin.

His lips left a scorching trail down your neck, his hands exploring every curve of your body as he planted kisses and gentle nips on your sensitive skin. You let out soft moans, his touch and kisses sending shivers down your spine, unlike any you've felt before.

He reached behind you and undid the clasp of your bra, letting it fall to the floor. His hands cupped your breasts, and he ran his thumbs over your nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

You gasped, arching your back and pressing yourself closer to him, wanting more. He obliged, his mouth capturing one of your nipples while his hand teased the other. You were panting and gasping, the pleasure was almost too much to bear.

His continued attentiveness sent waves of overwhelming sensations cascading through you, each touch and kiss a symphony of pleasure. You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, and the throbbing between your legs was growing more intense.

Descending lower, his tongue painted intricate patterns on your skin, a tantalizing journey that culminated at the edge of your lace panties. With a deliberate motion, he hooked his fingers on the elastic of your panties, easing them down your legs with a gentle tug, baring you completely to his heated gaze.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his gaze full of desire.

With a tender push, he guided you down onto the plush couch, settling himself between your parted legs. His tongue ran up your inner thigh, making you shiver.

When his tongue reached your core, you couldn't help but moan, the pleasure was almost too much.

"You're so wet," he said, his eyes wide as he felt how slick you were for him.

He went back, his tongue swirled around your clit, taking his time to taste you, and the sensation was so intense that you could barely think straight.

"You taste so good," he groaned, his tongue plunging inside of you.

You cried out, your fingers gripping his hair. You could feel the heat coiling in the pit of your stomach.

"Seungmin, please," you begged, the need to release was growing more and more unbearable.

He pulled back, his fingers rubbing your clit, "What is it, baby?" he asked, his eyes scanning your face.

"I need you inside of me," you gasped, the sensation of his fingers on your clit was sending you over the edge.

He smiled, the look on his face making you even more desperate for him.

He leaned down and captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dancing with yours. You savored the taste of yourself on his lips, finding it to be the most tantalizing and erotic sensation you had ever encountered.

As he continued to kiss you, his fingers worked their magic on your clit, and the heat and pressure building in the pit of your stomach was becoming too much to handle.

You could feel the tension daring to snap, until his fingers retreated, leaving you feeling empty.

"Why did you stop?" you pouted, your hips bucking against him.

"Because, you're going to cum on me." he teased, his tone seductive and teasing.

He undid his pants, grabbing a condom out of his back pocket before throwing it to the side, along with his boxers, revealing his cock.

Your eyes widened, taking in the sight of his size, he looked delicious.

He looked so sexy as he rolled on the condom and discarded the packaging, and you couldn't wait for him to fill you.

"Ready?" he asked, lining himself up at your entrance.

You nodded, the anticipation was almost too much to bear.

"Yes," you breathed, the need for him was almost overwhelming.

With that, he slowly entered you, stretching and filling you like no one ever had before. He moaned little curses, the sensation of being inside you was driving him crazy.

You whimpered, the feeling of him filling you was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. He felt so good, and the pleasure was almost unbearable.

"Oh my god, Min, you feel so good," you gasped, your nails digging into his back.

He started thrusting in and out, the friction of his cock against your walls was sending sparks of pleasure throughout your entire body.

A guttural moan escaped your lips as the feeling of him moving inside you rendered your mind a haze of pure pleasure and ecstasy.

You felt like your brain was being reduced to mush, the pleasure was so intense, and his cock felt so good inside you, rubbing against your walls in ways you've never experienced before.

You arched your back, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor, feeling the tension build up in your core. The room was filled with the sound of your moans mixing with his, the heat between you both rising to an unbearable level. Every touch, every movement, every sensation was heightened in that moment, making you feel alive in a way you had never felt before.

The tension snapped, and you felt the heat and pleasure crashing over you, sending waves of ecstasy through your entire body. You cried out, the feeling was too intense, and the pleasure was almost overwhelming.

"Oh my god," you moaned, your nails raking across his back as the orgasm tore through you, rendering you a shaking, quivering mess.

He cursed in response, feeling your walls clench around him and your orgasm washing over him. The pleasure was too much, and the feeling of your walls pulsating around him was sending him over the edge.

He came undone after you, the pleasure crashing over him, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he rode out the waves of pleasure, the sensation too intense.

You held each other close, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms.

After a few minutes, he lifted his head, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Did I meet the qualifications?" he murmured, his eyes shining with affection.

"More than qualified," you sighed, returning the kiss with a lazy smile.

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

taglist: @loverbangchan, @reignessance

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR EIGHTEEN

in which eddie shows you deftones, texts are missed and calls are answered, and lines are crossed once more for good measure.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, light dry humping?, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 4k+

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

18:00 ─────────────ㅇ── 24:00

Steve-O: rise and shine, campers! time to get back at it with these wellness checks. gonna need some proof you two are still alive.

HOUR EIGHTEEN - 9:00 AM 

Eddie’s eyes narrow in concentration at your phone as his thumbs fly across the screen, navigating the Spotify app with ease to find the Deftones song he specifically wants. He doesn’t do as you had and go to their artist page – he searches with purpose, in no mood to scroll through albums to find the song he’s looking for. 

“I still don’t understand how you can type so fast,” you mumble, watching with fascination that you try to tamper down with faux boredom, “Even I can’t type that fast, and I own the damn thing.” 

He doesn’t even glance up as he scrolls along the screen, finding the song and clicking on it, “I’m just good with my fingers.” 

There it goes. The air from your lungs, once again vacating the premises as he freezes beside you. 

It isn’t fair. An internal whine that nearly works itself up your throat and out your mouth, making you want to stomp your feet like a child. You hadn’t even recovered from the casual drop of baby yet. And now he’s going to just say that? 

“Oh, God, I-” he’s looking up finally, eyes wide and stuttering with embarrassment, “Fuck, I swear to God, I did not mean that as an innuendo.” 

You open your mouth. You close it. You repeat the process. You’re fucking speechless and it’s a little bit embarrassing. 

“I’m serious!” he persists when you don’t reply, and only stare at him in continued shock, “Seriously! I- Fuck, I was referring to with my job. At the autoshop. I’m- Fuck,” he cuts his explanation off, dragging a hand over his face and falling back into the couch, “Kill me. Kill me now, please – and be sure to make it quick and painless, pretty please.” 

You finally laugh. It’s a bit choked, a bit strangled, but it instantly has Eddie lowering his hand. 

“I think if we were going to kill each other, Munson, it would have happened hours ago,” you try to tease him, but something about the sentiment comes out far softer than you intended. Like it’s not a joke. Like, in your own odd way, you’re trying to whisper a truth to him – everything has changed for me now. 

“Probably,” he sighs, relaxing a bit and leaning back beside you as he looks to the phone once more and clicks on a song, “Proba-fucking-ly.” 

For the first two songs, there is a distance to be kept between the two of you. You peek at the screen and catch the titles – Cherry Waves and Sextape – and make a mental categorization of which one you enjoy more. You nearly audibly snort at Sextape, but manage to keep your immature humor to yourself. You prefer Cherry Waves, anyways. 

  The songs that follow become a bit of a blur. Because for the first two, the distance existed. You can focus on the guitar and the vocals and the bass drum and everything except the man sitting beside you. But then song three comes on. 

Fucking song three. You don’t catch the name, but it might be your favorite yet. Or you might be biased. 

Because it’s during this third song that something changes. Eddie is no longer content in just leaning back beside you, in letting you consume the new music in a sort of solitude that was impressive to achieve when not actually alone. You first notice his restlessness in the bounce of his knee, shaking beside yours as he finally puts the phone down on the coffee table rather than balanced on his thigh. You don’t comment on it, you let it slide. You faux indifference. But then, the flexing of his hand starts.

It’s odd. Sure, plenty of people mess with their hands in relation to nerves, but you’ve never seen it happen like that before. The slow stretch of him pushing his fingers to their limits before retracting them, bending his knuckles as he tucks the tips in. The veins along the top of his hand popping exceptionally. 

“I’m just good with my fingers.”

I fucking bet he is. 

You curse yourself for the warmth that burns in the pit of your stomach. Focus. You should be focusing on the music, on taking in what he’s sharing with you. 

Not on his hands. Specifically his fingers, and how good they’d feel-

Fucking stop it. Cut it out. No. 

It takes an ungodly amount of willpower for you to look away, but you manage it. Unfortunately, what you don’t manage to do is ignore the bouncing of his leg. You don’t manage to extinguish that burning that he’s begun in you — a fire started from his kindle. 

Impulsive. Impulsive, and a little stupid, and endlessly daring. That’s what it is when you finally reach out a hand to land on his knee midsong. 

The shaking immediately ceases, and you take over the soothing motions as you let your thumb initially rub in arcs against the side of his thigh. With each strum of the guitar that rings out, you let your thumb complete its semicircle motion. With each pounding of drums, you give a gentle squeeze. He doesn’t say a word about it, and neither do you. Especially when he drops his hand over yours, wiggling his fingers between yours with the failure of a casual grace. You try not to smile as you flip your hand and let him properly intertwine them.

Flexing, but this time, it’s to squeeze your palm to his. You still think about those goddamn fingers.

“So, what do you think so far?” Eddie asks after he clears his throat.

“They’re good,” you nod, finding yourself shuffling subconsciously closer to him now that he’s gripping onto your hand, “Really good.” 

“I’m just good with my fingers.”

You know that he’s more than just good. Just like Deftones, you’d dare say he’s really good. 

The song switches, and both of you have scooted close enough to one another that your thighs press together. Shoulder to shoulder, sharing enough space to feel his breath on the side of your bare neck. 

His grip on your hand tightens.

You want the opposite. You suddenly want his hand to detach from yours and to find home on your cheeks, hands on either side of your face before he’s pulling you into him, throwing caution and formality to the wind. You two have already crossed that line; why was it so hard to take that leap once more? 

The song is still playing. You don’t recognize the tinny guitars that are on the loop of repeating the same notes, an echo effect of sorts layered over them. 

It’s just the guitar. And suddenly, the rasps of Eddie’s breaths are something your acutely aware of. Like he’s closer, like he’s letting his head tilt even closer to you. You feel that heat transferring between your biceps that are smashed together, not even thin layers of t-shirt or the sleeve of the crew neck able to stop it. 

It all happens suddenly.

The guitar pauses and Eddie’s hand loosens in yours. Your heart races, and you realize you’re preparing yourself for what he’s doing before he’s even sprung into action. 

Kiss me, the sigh you let out whispers.

It’s answered by the song, and by Eddie. A combination of the two that you can’t differentiate. 

The silence in the song is cut off by whimpers. One from the lead singer on the track, one from Eddie. Both breathy, both shakey, both whispering of the loss of control.

“Fuck it.”

Two words. He says those two words again as his warning before he lets go of your hand and is reaching up, shifting your two bodies impossibly quick as his hands do exactly as you had craved. One on each cheek, and then he does it.

He kisses you.

It is neither kind nor gentle, despite the allusion that it might have been from the way he cradles your cheeks. The callouses on his fingers scrape your cheeks, you can feel every crack in his bottom lip as it slots between your own. It’s easy and quick work, the way your mouths can mold together so effortlessly. Tongues that were once so sharp as they’d spit venomous words at once another now meet and pass over teeth, blurring the lines of where you end and he begins — of where hatred ended and this began. 

Whatever it is, whatever it will be for these last few hours, whatever it will be once the clock runs out, you’re grateful. You, your vinery, your civility — they all scream their prayers of thanks as his hands drop from your cheeks and find your hips. You don’t even process that he’s tugging you onto his lap or that you’re letting him until it’s happened. Your thighs bracket his own hips, and he gives you no time before he’s pressing your full weight into him, hands clawing at you, desperate to keep you close. 

You can’t even hear the song anymore over the roar of your own heart.

“Baby,” he murmurs against your mouth, and you realize now what the price is. 

The price is your sanity. The price is a loss of control, and letting him consume you whole. A small price in the grand scheme of it all.

“I-“ you start a sentence that you have no idea of what the ending would be, but he interrupts with his mouth. The teeth your tongue had once met bite down on your lip and you swear you taste blood, swear you see crimson as he sighs out again into your open mouth. 

His hands guide your hips against his. A steady rhythm, and with only a few passes, you can feel him harden against you. Your pace picks up of your own doing, the friction of your panties and his pajama pants nudging your clit and leaving you breathless. 

What the fuck are we doing?

You should stop it. You should mind the delicate balance you two have been trying to achieve since you first crossed this line. 

You only push down harder on him, only bite down on his lip as he had yours. This time, blood might have honestly been drawn — the hiss that escapes him says it all. 

“You’re going to be the fucking death of me,” he chastises you between kisses, “You want to know what was fucking wrong earlier? You. You are driving me insane, you are driving me straight into the fucking grave.” 

Oh.

Oh.

The way he had leapt up. His nervous energy. The way he had put as much space between the two of you as possible.

“I affect you that much?”

It is not a confident question — you completely pull away from him, leaning back as you breathe it out, hands finding home on his shoulders as you survey him.

He’s being honest. 

His pupils are wide but those brown, doe eyes have softened as they meet your gaze. His chest is heaving, his lips are already bruising pink as they fall apart so casually. 

He’s being honest. 

You affect him, you’re doing this to him — he’s caught up in flames, no sign of salt water in sight. 

“You always do,” he says, “Always have. Probably always will.” 

Your grip on his shoulders tighten. 

I could never hate you. 

How blind you had been. How absolutely, blissfully unaware you had been functioning all these months. 

A hand trails from its grip on his shoulders, fingers slipping over his bare collar bone, “What do you mea-“ 

You don’t get to finish the question or dig any deeper into the revelation. The music both of you had long since abandoned has been replaced by the ringing of your phone.

Eddie’s eyes immediately pinch shut, face twisting with irritation. You can’t tell if he’s more annoyed at the interruption due to whatever breakthrough you two were on the precipice of, or because he’s still painfully hard beneath you. But he quickly wraps one arm around your waist, tugging your torso flush to his as he leans forward quickly and reaches out to grab your phone. 

“Oh, what the fuck,” he huffs once his eyes are open again and he’s looking at your phone screen.

Your face has been pressed into the crook of his neck due to the current position and way he’s tightly holding you to him. You have no clue who it is, but you have five decent guesses to throw out. 

He answers for you. Sharply and bitterly, he snaps out a, “What do you want, Harrington?” 

Steve. One of the five guesses. Go figure.

“Yes, we’re fucking alive,” Eddie holds no patience for your friend, all the softness he’d held for you gone save for the stroke of his thumb against the bare small of your back, “We were-“ 

A pause. You wonder for a second if he is going to admit it. If right here, right now, he would confess to your friends what has happened. How he could never hate you, how you drive him insane, how by nothing changing that everything has changed.

“Sleeping.” 

An answer to your question. You hate your disappointment, and bite it down with vengeance. 

You can faintly hear Steve’s voice over the phone, not quite as trilling or pitched as Nancy’s or Robin’s. Eddie’s annoyance still rolls off of him in waves, and you imagine that you’d catch him rolling his eyes along with his little huffs of air if you were to finally lift your head from his neck. But you’re selfish, and his arm is still around you waist as it presses you tight to his chest, so you indulge yourself. You dig your nose deeper against the junction of his neck, you take in his lingering cologne and let the stray curls tickle your cheeks. 

You should have known he wouldn’t admit it.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie grumbles into the phone, barely getting out the repetitive word before his breath hitches as you pucker your lips against the skin you’ve been burrowing into. It’s only a chaste kiss, but it has its desired effect, “Okay, Harrington. We’ll send a fucking photo. You done?”

Then it hits you. A fun game, a distraction from your disappoint and a way to crawl under his skin all in one. You fight hard not to let a smile spread at the risk of him feeling it against his neck as you take a deep breath in through your nose, noticing the way his shoulder nearly reflexively lifts slightly as if it tickles, because you’re puckering your lips again.

The second chaste kiss is testing the waters. He doesn’t react. And so you go forth with your plan, mouth falling open, teeth grazing his jugular.

He reacts microscopically. His chest halts movement.

It’s not enough for you.

So you suck. Hard. Puckered lips and a vendetta to prove, you let your teeth bite at the skin that sucks into your mouth. 

That does the trick.

“O-Okay!” he yelps out in surprise, his hand bruising as he grips you harder. He tries to pull his neck back from you, but his hand only presses you down onto his lap and you feel his dick twitch beneath his thin pants, “Christ, Harrington. We fucking get it. We’ll send a photo. And we won’t sleep another wink, so bite me,“ he pants out as you move to the spot beneath his ear, finding where his jaw connects to his throat, repeating the process and doing exactly as he had told Steve. His hips buck up into you, “Okay, I’m hanging up now, Harrington. Bye.” 

You’re grinning wildly against his ear as he tosses your phone carelessly somewhere on the couch — or maybe the floor, you couldn’t tell at this point — before he’s flipping you down onto your back on the couch and hovering over you.

Your head falls back instinctually, leaving your neck open for him to begin an assault of kisses.

“Are-“ A kiss. “You-“ A bite. “Fucking-“ A soothing lathe of tongue over the bite. “Kidding-“ A harsh suck. “Me.”

You writhe beneath him, but he’s pressing his entire weight down onto you, hips slotted between yours and one hand  pinning both your wrists to the cushion above as the other stays glued to your waist. 

“Did you think that was funny?” he breathes out against you, letting the tip of his nose barely graze over the base of your throat, “Doing that shit while I was trying to talk Harrington down from that damn ledge?” 

“Why was he on the ledge to begin with?” you breathily question, trying to move your hands from his grasp, the urge to run your fingers through his curls growing. He only tightens his hold.

“Apparently,” he pauses and presses a quick kiss at the edge of the sweatshirt collar, looking up at you through his bangs and lashes, “He had texted, and we didn’t respond. Photos are back in demand.” 

“We’re quite the commodity,” you try to joke, avoiding his gaze. Trying to avoid the softness buried deep inside there, all soft and melted in shades of brown, “We should start charging them.” 

“We are charging them, technically,” he snorts, finally letting go of your wrists and leveling his face above yours.

Right. You keep forgetting the promise of a cash prize if you make it out of this alive. 

Alive, not unscathed. 

You’re already picturing that cash as blood money, some pathetic trophy that won’t even begin to cover the irreversible scars that will be left behind. All the hurt, all the fights, all the realizations — no amount of promised money can erase them.

You start to consider what could erase them, but you stop yourself when you realize that that admittance is too heavy. 

He’s here. The weight of him is pressing into you, the smell of him is encasing you, and the stare of his big brown eyes is locking you in. You have him. For a few more hours, you have him.

The wounds can wait. The time to heal and scar over will come later.

“I guess they are, huh?” you laugh when you realize you’ve gone too long without replying. 

The stare turns curious. Still melted chocolate, still deathly soft for you, but curious all the same. “Yeah. Yeah, they are.” 

You’re about to retreat into your own head and consider what he might do with his share of the cash, but that voice in your mind whispers once more.

He’s here. You have him. Just ask him.

“What are you doing with your money?” you blurt out. 

He chuckles and shakes his head, curls falling over his shoulders and creating a curtain as he continues to balance his weight on his forearms settled on each side of your head, still hovering over you.

You should probably comment on that. Make a snide remark about it. Shove him off.

You don’t.

“Is that really want you’d like to talk about right now?” 

Right, the weight of his hips as he rolls them gently into you reminds you of what the two of you had been doing before the phone call. The boundaries you’d hopped right over, all the lines you two had been in the process of crossing.

The affect you have on him.

Your stomach twists and suddenly your legs fall open wider to welcome him in, only to wrap them up around his waist. He lets you, lets you pull him right in until your chests are flush to each other. The only thing separating your skin from his is this damn sweatshirt. 

“I… Maybe,” you force out just before his lips capture yours. It’s not as urgent as when he’d pulled you in for a kiss to Deftones, but it’s still enough to shatter every bone in your body before melding them all back together into something new, something different.

Something changed. 

Eddie smiles, and it’s almost shyly. “Maybe?”

You hum, but it’s cut off, caught in your throat with another roll of Eddie’s hips. 

“Okay. Let’s talk about it then, sweetheart.” 

Another roll of his hips, and you lift your own to meet the thrust this time, trying to catch him against you in a way for reprieve. You can feel the wet patch gathering on your panties, your thighs clenching onto his hips harder. 

“What ever shall I do with my money?” he pretends to ponder, eyes shooting up to look away from you in faux contemplation. 

As he does it, one of his hands wander over your sternum, dancing above the fabric of the borrowed clothes. 

“Maybe I’ll buy a new bike,” he muses, the hand wandering lower, tracing a steady line down your abdomen, “Maybe I’ll get myself a new guitar.” 

His hand has reached the hem of the sweatshirt, slips beneath it and plays with the edge of your panties. 

Your mouth will be your damnation as you snipe back, “Or maybe you can buy yourself a whole collection of playboys, filled with plenty of models who definitely don’t look like someone you claim to hate.” 

His hand retracts immediately, and you can’t help but begin to giggle.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you start to gasp out when he lifts away from you, reaching out to grab onto him. 

He’s fast, but your hands are quicker. You wrap them around the back of his neck and tug him into you, only for him to continue to lift himself up and bring you with him as well this time. 

You resemble a koala, and can only imagine what the scene looks like to an outsider. 

“Eddie!” you practically squeal, and can feel the vibrations of his own laughter as he sits up on his knees, you still clinging to him.

His arms wrap around you and you lean back, catching that mischievous glint in his eyes. It breaks through the softness, burns brightly in your chest as your laughter fades into soft breaths that hit his freckled cheeks.

You stare at each other for a moment, a tangle of limbs and unspoken words. His earlier admission isn’t forgotten, the lines crossed all painted in red now.

He’s here. You have him, for now. 

You can only imagine the claw marks you will be leaving behind when the clock strikes twenty four hours, and you’re forced to leave him and this behind. 

“You, sweetheart,” he finally breaks the silence with gentle smirk, “are a certified boner killer.” 

You don’t miss a beat, reaching down between you two, hand cupping his still prominent erection, “You sure about that?” 

He only groans in response, and in your following cackles, your hold on him slips. 

He could have let you fall back roughly on the couch, especially given his distraction with fighting his ever growing smirk. He could have let you smack your head back on the cushion and let you deal with the dull ache that would have followed. He could have, he could have, he could have.

He doesn’t. 

He guides you back with his arms still tight around you. Makes sure that you land softly against the worn plush. Takes his time removing his grip on you before he’s standing up from the couch.

You lay back, so sincerely content as you let out a final breath of a laugh and watch him shake his head in amusement as he turns to leave. 

“Where are you going?” if it weren’t for the residual giddiness of the moment, you’d have been embarrassed by the clinginess that had threaded its way into your tone.

“The bathroom,” he answers without hesitation, back facing you as he starts down the short hall.

You call after him, “Okay. Don’t take too long this time!” 

Even as his laughter echoes faintly, you know you still have him. For now.

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[joelscruff]

this one thing you did (joel miller x f!reader) 18+

this is totally self indulgent smut based on a night out i had. i don't usually put songs into my fic but this song was playing on said night out and how could i not include it?? anyway, enjoy 🎉 and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip 💕 summary: dancing with a stranger at your favorite club leads to something filthy. (early 2000s!joel, no outbreak, no use of y/n) rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: grinding, unprotected p in v sex with a stranger (don't do this), creampie, comeplay, dirty talk, bathroom sex word count: 3.5k

The booming bass and flashing lights are their own kind of high, regardless of how many shots you've already taken tonight. The club is your playground, bodies swaying back and forth, bare skin reflecting sweat and glitter as you playfully grind against a nameless and faceless man on the dancefloor, hips rotating to the beat of the music as he grips your hips tightly from behind. This is your favorite place.

You spot your friend over at the bar, still chatting up her date enthusiastically; she's barely danced tonight, too distracted by her handsome new friend she met last weekend. You figured this would happen; third wheeling has become a skill in and of itself for you after being single for so long, but you don't mind. She seems happy, he seems sweet, it's all good. Besides, you have other plans.

The song is winding down and you turn around to finally match a face to the hands on your body; he's cute, albeit a bit young, blonde hair and blue eyed with a goatee he should probably reconsider. He's hot though, and he smells good. The alcohol still buzzing in your body, you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, smirking playfully.

"You got plans after this?" you ask over the pumping bass, flipping your damp hair out of your face and feeling a cascade of glitter zip past your ear.

"Kinda," he replies back just as loudly, hands traveling down to your ass, "I'm at a bachelor party, we're going to another club after this," he squeezes you through your dress and smirks, "You wanna come?"

You bite your lip and your eyes dart back to your friend at the bar, still chatting it up with her new man. You've met him, got a good vibe, but you still feel uncomfortable leaving her here, even if she'd probably tell you to go on ahead. You turn back to the blonde and shake your head.

"Can't leave my friend," you shout, "Sorry, maybe next time!"

He makes a face, frustration suddenly flooding his expression, "But there won't be a next time!"

"Why?"

"It's my bachelor party," he replies, like this should have been obvious to you, "I get married tomorrow!" He squeezes your ass tighter and leans down to speak directly in your ear, "Be my last, come on."

You pull back from him immediately, yanking yourself out of his grip with disgust, "CREEP!" you yell loudly, pointing to him as people begin to turn to look at the two of you. The song has ended, a few seconds of silence granting you the attention you desire, "GET OUT, CREEP!"

"Creep!" you hear another girl call near you, "Leave!"

"CREEP," someone else calls, and soon most of the people in your general vicinity are shouting at the man to leave; he backs away, looking at your angrily as he turns around and lurches toward the front of the club to find his friends. You smile after him. That's how it's done.

The next song has already started and you feel your face light up when you recognize 1 Thing by Amerie blasting through the club speakers, the unmistakable sound of percussion reverberating in your bones as you look frantically around the crowded floor for someone else to dance with.

"That was ballsy," you hear a voice behind you, deep and southern, and you look down with surprise to see a large hand pressed firmly against your belly through your tight dress, "Wanna dance?"

"You're not married or getting married, are you?" you call back, twisting your face a bit to catch the slightest glimpse of brown hair and a beard; hot.

"Single as they come," he replies, and that's all you need.

You grind back on him immediately, loving how his grip around your middle tightens as he pushes his groin against your ass. Your dress certainly doesn't leave much to the imagination, ridiculously short and covered in silver glitter; you can feel the swell of him through his jeans and you smirk as you lean back against him and start to sway your hips to the beat.

His hands are a godsend; he knows exactly how to touch you, hands moving from your midsection to squeeze your hips, thumbing the shape of your thong beneath your dress. It's not visible but it's like he knows it's there, caressing the V of your hips and grinding himself into you a bit firmer. You feel your brows furrow, a bit taken aback by this level of intimacy; you're so used to club guys who just take what they need, view you as more of a warm body than anything else. Which is fine, it's not like you view them any different.

But the way this man dances with you is entirely new. He pulls you in closer as the song progresses, noses your hair and helps you sway back and forth. He smells good, even better than the blonde guy, a more mature and masculine scent that's musked and piney. He's big and tall too, you can tell how much larger he is than you when you lean back further and press your entire body against him, feel the broad expanse of his chest against your back.

"Fuck," you mutter under your breath, knowing he can't hear you, "That's good."

It feels almost impossible for him to hold you any closer but he somehow does, tightening his grip around you in his arms, one of the hands on your hips trailing upwards to press flat against the space between your breasts where you're bare. You look down, eyes hazy, and see the large shape of his hand firm on your chest, fingers splayed out and lightly brushing the sides of your breasts, only held up by some tape you'd applied before leaving the house.

"Fuck," you repeat, but you can't hear it, biting down on your lip in a pleasured pout and grinding back into the man even more, feeling yourself begin to throb under your dress. Almost like he can sense where you're aching, he moves his other hand down from your hip to grip your thigh, thumb tracing the innermost part gently. You shiver in his grasp.

You bring your gaze back over to the bar and are surprised to see your friend looking over at you, a wide grin plastered on her face. She mouths something and you squint to see her, making a confused face.

"He's fucking hot," she mouths again, throwing you a thumbs up, "Good job."

You feel yourself grin back at her, "Is he?" you mouth back.

She nods quickly and mouths, "He's perfect!"

You feel a flutter of pride and contentedness rise in your chest at her blessing. It's rare that either of you ever call a guy perfect, but you'd seen the hint of brown hair and the beard and hoped he was your type. You like big, tall men. Strong, ones who can take care of you, lift you up if necessary, take control. Brunettes with beards have always been your favorite. Obviously she can see that he's completely your type.

The song is winding down but you're desperate to stay as close to this man as possible, pressing back against him and closing your eyes. You feel his breath at your ear, both hands returning to their familiar spots on your hips, fingertips lightly touching your bare thighs. You suddenly want him to lift up the dress and start fucking you right there on the dancefloor; you're down bad.

You lean your head upwards a bit, trying to speak loud enough so he can hear you, but also not so loud that people in the vicinity can hear as you say, "Wanna fuck me?"

You feel him smirk against your skin, "Lead the way."

Still not turning to look at him you reach down and take his hand, the final notes of the song ringing out in the club as you lead him to the women's bathroom. You've had sex in here before, many times, so you know how to give yourself the privacy you need for the short period of time you need it.

You drag him inside the bathroom and finally turn around to look at him, grinning again when you get a good look. Oh, your friend was so right. He's perfect; tall and broad, scruffy and unkempt in the sexiest way possible. He's got brown eyes, dark and seductive, and a playful smirk that's already driving you wild. Before you put your hands on him you quickly reach down under one the sinks and grab the edge of a ridiculously heavy box with god knows what inside; no one questions the box.

"Help me put this in front of the door." you say, and he doesn't need telling twice, immediately reaching down to pull it out. You know from experience that this box is heavy, which is the whole point people leave it here to begin with. However, he seems to move it with ease, biceps flexing under his black t-shirt as he places it in front of the bathroom door.

As soon as it's in place you grab his forearm and pull him toward you, worrying your lip between your teeth as you both move toward the sinks with what's probably a pathetically debauched expression on your face.

He grins and carefully picks you up and places you on one of the counters like you weigh nothing, leaning down to plant wet kisses along your neck as he pushes your thighs apart and stands between them. Your dress is so tight that he has to roll it up a bit, leaving you sitting bare-assed on the countertop; you're definitely gonna need a shower later.

"You do this a lot?" he asks you, that southern drawl back in full force and making you pulse even more in your panties, "Seems like you know what you're doin'."

You nod unabashedly, "It's not my first rodeo."

He laughs at that, deep and rough, then brings his hands down to grip your thighs tightly beneath his wide palms, "Let's make it a memorable one, then."

You lean forward to capture his lips in a hot kiss, wet and sloppy. He tastes like whisky and you're sure you probably taste like vodka, the strong flavors mixing together as he pushes his tongue inside your mouth and inches his fingers upwards to grip your thong. He tugs it down easily and keeps kissing you hard, licking inside your mouth and humming at the taste. You hear the unmistakable jangle of his belt buckle as he pulls it free, making you open your eyes and pull back from the kiss to watch with hooded eyes as he pulls out his dick.

"Knew you were big," you say with a smirk, batting your eyelashes at him, "Could feel it on the dancefloor."

He chuckles and pulls your dress up even more, leaning back to look down and assess where you're bare. He reaches down and thumbs your wet cunt, smirking when a moan immediately falls from your mouth.

"And I knew you were dripping," he replies roughly, "Could feel it on your thighs."

Fuck. You let out another moan when he quickly shoves two fingers inside without any warning; you take him easily, pussy sucking his fingers in with an obscene squelch that makes both of you groan. He pulls his fingers out and drags them along the length of his cock, mixing your juices with the precum leaking from his weeping tip.

"How long we got? Since you're the expert." He doesn't say it in a way that's shameful or disgusted; if anything he seems more turned on by the fact that this isn't new for you, shuffling forward to bump the fat head of his cock against your opening.

"Maybe five minutes," you reply quickly, gaze jumping to the closed door, "Before someone starts knocking."

You realize then that he's not wearing a condom and that neither of you have even suggested the prospect of being safe. You know for a fact there's some in that box; whether staff or people coming in and out are responsible for that, you're not sure. Regardless, you only briefly consider asking him to put one on before deciding it doesn't matter - you're drunk and horny and you want to feel him raw.

You can practically hear your friend calling you an idiot already.

You hitch your arms up around his neck and hear yourself emit a guttural moan as he pushes his cock inside you. He goes a bit slow at first, just to get you adjusted to his size, but then he's filling you completely to the hilt and you have to hold on tightly to him so you don't topple off the counter. He's so large, practically in your stomach as he starts to steadily thrust in and out, holding you close.

"Oh fuck," you whimper into his shoulder, hands scrambling for purchase against his back, "Shit."

"Yeah, that's it," he murmurs in your ear, low and seductive, "Take it."

You take it, that's for sure. It's not like you have any other choice. You're glad he can't see your face because you're sure it's twisted into a ridiculous expression, mouth agape and eyes crossing slightly as he fucks you deep. You've taken big dicks before but never from somebody who actually knew how to use it, how to drag it back and forth at the perfect speed, be sure to prod that special spot deep inside you. Your friend was right, he's perfect.

The bass of the music continues to boom outside the bathroom, muffled and echoey; you don't recognize the song but that's the last thing on your mind as this gorgeous man fucks you into a state of pure nirvana. You whimper pathetically in his ear, feeling your back bump the bathroom mirror every time he thrusts, one hand coming up to get lost in his hair.

"Fuck, you take it good," he mutters, slamming his hips back and forth and tightening his grip around your body, "Perfect pussy. You fuckin' love gettin' filled up, don't you?"

You nod into his shoulder and whimper again when he starts fucking you even faster, body practically vibrating on the counter. You pull back to look at him and find your head bobbing wildly back and forth like you're a ragdoll, completely at his mercy. You lock eyes with him and moan when you see his blissed out expression, the glitter from your face now clinging to his sweaty skin.

"Oh fuck, what a face," he groans, "You're cross-eyed, baby. I'm fuckin' you stupid, huh?"

You nod frantically again, "I-" you try to speak, voice shaky and weak as he relentlessly pounds into you without stopping, "I'm-"

He nods along with you, "I know, baby, I know," he murmurs, "Don't talk, just take that cock."

You grip him tightly again and bury your face in his shoulder. It's perfect timing because you almost feel yourself start to cry out when he starts rubbing your clit, bringing you to your release. Your legs wrap around his waist and you practically scream into his shoulder, your whole body shaking and vibrating as your orgasm takes over.

"That's it," he hisses through his teeth, clearly close to his own release, "That's it, come all over my cock."

Your pussy tightens and pulses around his thick length as you come, clit throbbing beneath the man's steady touch. You whine into his shirt as he fucks you faster, impossibly harder, the wide head of his cock repeatedly pushing against your favorite spot. It's too much and you have to bite down on the fabric to stop yourself from sobbing.

He doesn't ask where you want his come; he knows.

He fucks you once, twice, three times more before stilling inside of you and letting out a deep and rough groan, pulling back to watch your expression as he fills you up. Your jaw drops, legs shaking around his waist as you feel his thick spurts of release paint your insides. You both stare into each other's eyes with mirrored looks of pleasure, eyes hooded and dark.

"I'm clean," he says, voice breaking slightly, "Probably shoulda told you that before we started."

"It's okay," you whimper, still focused on the feeling of his cock, the way it pushes his come further inside, "I wanted it."

"Yeah, you did," he murmurs, eyes scanning your face, "You wanted it bad, didn't you?"

You nod and he leans in to kiss you. It's sweeter this time, not as hurried or sloppy, and you moan faintly against his lips when he carefully slides his dick out of you.

"Want me to clean you up?" he asks, and you shake your head.

"No," you whisper, "Wanna feel it dripping when I dance."

He groans and reaches down to pull your thong back up your legs. You shimmy off the counter, legs like jelly as you shakily stand and pull them up all the way.

"That'll keep it in there," he murmurs, pulling your dress down and patting your pussy gently through the material, "For a little while."

A loud knock at the door and the sound of a girl yelling "I have to pee!" notifies the both of you that your time is up. You watch as the man stuffs his softening cock back inside his pants and starts to do up his belt quickly, still eyeing you. He wastes no time in kissing you one last time, holding you close and trailing his fingers up and down your back.

"I gotta head home," he murmurs against your lips after a few seconds, "But thank you for this, I needed it."

You giggle and pull back to take one last look at his face, aware of the girl outside the door still steadily knocking and begging to be let in, "We should do it again."

"I'll hold you to that."

You both pull away from each other and he reaches down to move the box away from the door. Immediately a girl and a few of her friends rush inside, barely batting an eye when they see a man in the women's bathroom; this isn't an uncommon occurrence here. You leave the bathroom with him and walk with him to the exit, making sure to check the bar for your friend. She's still sitting there, lost in her own world. You smile.

"Are you sure you have to go home?" you ask once you're both outside the club, alone together on the sidewalk; the question is probably a little pathetic but you don't care.

He smiles softly, "I do, I'm sorry. I have to be somewhere early tomorrow and if I take you home..." he trails off, eyes scanning up and down your body, "Well, let's just say neither of us will be getting any sleep."

You shiver, more from his words than the cold air, but he still reaches forward to rub your bare shoulders gently, giving you some heat. It's a small and quiet gesture, but it makes your heart flutter.

"Can I get your number?" you ask, suddenly a bit shy despite the fact that you can feel his come beginning to leak out of you. He nods with a smile and you pull your phone out of the top of your dress to hand it over to him.

He takes it from you, looking down and pressing a few buttons to program his number into your contacts, then hands it back to you. You suddenly feel a strange tickle between your legs and your brow furrows.

"Shit," you mutter, realizing what it is.

"What?"

You look down at yourself and see a thick drip of his come inching down your inner thigh. He follows your gaze and makes a strange noise in his throat, taking a few steps forward and watching with dark eyes as it slowly dribbles down your leg.

"You're on the pill, right?" he murmurs.

"Yes," you whisper, still watching his release drip from you.

He pulls you into his arms one more time and kisses you long and deep, slipping his hand under your dress to gently ease some of his come back inside you. You whimper against his mouth as his thick thumb slips inside your hole and carefully pushes his release as deep as he can.

When he pulls back he tilts your chin up and smiles softly at you, eyes still full of desire as you keen beneath his touch.

"Now go dance with all that still inside," he murmurs, "I know you want to."

You're back inside the club a few moments later, skin tingling with the rush of what's happened in the last twenty minutes. You take out your phone quickly to make sure his number is definitely there, that he did it right. You feel your face warm when you see the new name listed in your contacts:

Joel.

You slip your phone back inside your dress and head for the dance floor, pushing past the gyrating bodies and the couples making out, the dudes looking for whichever girl will grind on them. Just one more song, you think to yourself. The bass booms, the lights flash, and you dance with abandon.

This is your favorite place.

[happy74827]

Promises and Ballads

[Todd Ingram x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Todd notices the gloomy outlook on you, and although he’s not much help, he still attempts at making you smile.

WC: 1458

Category: Comfort

So, I decided to watch Scott Pilgrim Vs The World last night, and now I’m obsessed. It’s so chaotically good. Todd was my favorite evil ex out the seven, so ofc I had to write about him. And now, here we are.

『••✎••』

The dim glow of Todd's apartment was pierced by the vibrant colors of posters plastered on the walls. The distant sound of guitars being tuned hinted at the imminent performance of "The Clash at Demonhead." You, however, were sitting on the couch with a storm of emotions clouding your expression.

"So," Todd started, pulling you from your thoughts, "How's college life treating you?" His question was followed by the tapping of the tuning pegs as he finished tuning his bass.

"It's fine," you said, giving him a fake smile. "Nothing too special."

He turned away from the bass to face you, his eyebrows raised. "…Really? Nothing too special? I find that hard to believe, considering… well, you know. I'd expect at least a few crazy stories from you by now."

You sighed and stared into your hands as you pulled them from the sofa, a pained look on your face. You didn’t respond.

Todd let out a soft hum, then walked over and sat next to you on the sofa. He draped his arm over your shoulders, pulling you close. You flinched, your breath hitching, but you didn't pull away from him.

Todd was your best friend since high school. You weren’t very popular and had a hard time making friends, but then you met Todd. Brash, stubborn, and confident Todd. He was your opposite in every way. That was probably why you both hit it off so well.

During the first few weeks in high school, Todd would get in fights. It was always something stupid. Someone would call him a chicken, and he’d hit them, or someone would insult his hair, and he would deck them in the jaw.

Eventually, after a particularly bad fight, he brought enough concern that your algebra teacher decided to dump him on you to “guide” him.

It didn’t work, obviously, as Todd just gave you hell for being a teacher's pet, but that eventually led you into being friends when he realized how little you stuck up for yourself.

It was a weird friendship, you had to admit. But it worked out.

You grew up together. Todd would skip class, and you'd help tutor him. You'd sneak out at night and see bands and shows with him, and sometimes, you'd hang out here in his apartment and watch old movies or play video games. You two were as close as you could possibly get. Well, not as close as you'd hoped you could be, but that's life, right?

"Alright, whose ass do I need to kick?" Todd asked, breaking you from your thoughts.

"What?" You asked, confused.

"Well, you were super excited last week, and now you're just a slump. I’ll go vegan-punch their asses for you, no problem." He looked into your eyes, searching them, trying to find an answer to his question.

You laughed and pushed his arm off you. "I still find it weird how you got powers just for being vegan."

"Hey,” Like on cue, his hair suddenly rose as his eyes became glowing beams of white light. "I’m not complaining. Shit’s awesome, especially since I get to kick the shit out of some people,"

As you sighed, turning away from him momentarily, his hair died down as his eyes faded back to their normal color. Despite the humor, they were filled with concern. He didn't like it when you got quiet like this. It reminded him of the old days.

He gently turned your face toward his. "Hey, what's going on?"

"Todd, I," You bit your lip, trying to think of how to word what you were feeling. "I'm going to miss this."

"Miss what? My handsome face?"

"Stupid, you mean? Yeah, but that's not what I meant." You paused and looked around his apartment, your eyes landing on the many posters of bands that hung on the wall. "This."

“The… posters?” He asked.

You shook your head and turned away from them. "No. This. Us. All of it."

He stared at you, blinking slowly. "What?"

His voice was soft, dazed. Confused

He wasn’t getting it. God, it was so frustrating. How was he this stupid? Why were you friends again?

"Friendship. I mean, our friendship. When I leave again, we won't see each other as often, and when we do, we won't be as close. You’d be… well, busy.”

His expression was blank, his eyes wide and unblinking. "That's what you're worried about?"

"I—" You opened your mouth to answer him, but you couldn't think of the words you wanted to say. You just let out a deep breath and closed your eyes.

Todd leaned in, gently placing his hand on your cheek, turning your face toward his again. Your eyes opened to look at him, confused and filled with worry.

"Don't sweat it about that stuff. We'll still be friends, alright?" His words were firm, leaving no room for argument. "I won’t let you go."

His eyes were filled with that same determination; his hand was warm on your cheek, and his hair was bristling and sticking out every which way. This was Todd. This was the boy who took on everyone, whether they were ten times his size or a hundred times more skilled than him. This was the boy who took on bullies and came out on top.

And despite all that, despite everything, you had a nagging feeling in the back of your mind. You felt like something was going to go wrong.

You didn't realize it then, but in those moments, you realized that Todd didn't see you as a friend. Not just a friend.

He didn't see you as anything less, either.

It was at that moment that he finally saw you, and you were able to see him.

He smiled, that dumb, idiotic grin he always did when he was about to do something stupid. Most situations where he smiled like this were either terrifying or amusing, depending on if you were his enemy or his friend.

"You think you can escape me that easy?" He said, his words carrying the same tone he'd use in the school hallways when someone would try to make a fool out of him. He shifted himself on the couch, leaning into your space. He was getting closer and closer. You could feel his breath on your lips.

Your heart started pounding, and your head filled with fear, excitement, and confusion. His face was so close to yours, and he was so close to your lips. You wanted to look away, but you couldn't. You were frozen in place.

"T-Todd, what—" You swallowed the lump in your throat. You didn't want to let your fear out, but you could feel it. You didn't understand.

He grinned, "How can I resist a challenge?"

He moved his lips to yours, gently placing them in your mouth. He pressed them lightly, sending electricity through your veins. You felt your body start to heat up as your mind went blank.

He slowly pulled away and stared at you.

"There," he said. "That's one thing I'm going to miss about you."

"Wh-What?" You breathed out.

Todd leaned in, "Your smile."

You stared at him, dumbfounded, as your brain tried to catch up. Your mind was going a million miles a minute, but nothing made sense. You looked down, avoiding his gaze.

He grabbed your chin with his fingers, pulling your face toward him. He stared deep into your eyes.

"You don't think I see you? That I don't notice you? I'm not stupid." He placed his hand on your cheek, "Well, not that much, anyway."

"Todd, I—"

"Hey, look, you don't have to say anything, alright? Just—" He smiled softly at you, "Just go back to smiling."

Your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest, but for once, you were feeling something good. Not just something, you were feeling a lot of different emotions. It was overwhelming, but you were glad for it. It was the first time in years that you felt that way.

You placed your hand on his and looked into his eyes. You nodded, "Okay."

His eyes lit up, and he smiled even brighter, which you didn't think was possible. He pulled your hand to his mouth and kissed your palm, then held it tightly. "Wanna hear me absolutely demolish this killer riff I’ve been working on? It'll blow your mind."

He went off on a tangent, talking about the music he was writing and how amazing he was, and how you had no clue what he was talking about, but that didn't matter because he was happy, and so were you.

College might be hard, but as long as you had him, everything would be fine.

[lecsainz]

Hi can you do some charles headcanons dating a emo girl (and she plays bass in a emo band)

SHE MAKES SONGS

˒ ⌕ masterlist . . .

parings: charles leclerc x emo!reader

an: I loved writing that! I was a bit scared of getting something wrong, so I didn't delve too deep into it.

summary: the one where you are a bassist in an emo band and date charles.

Charles loves when you play the bass. He finds the emo tunes you create both fascinating and alluring. The way your fingers dance over the strings makes him appreciate your talent even more.

You both complement each other in a unique way. Charles with his racing attire and you with your emo style; it's an unexpected but intriguing contrast that draws attention and makes people curious about your relationship.

Charles adores calling you by sweet nicknames in French, like "Mon Trésor" my treasure, "Ma Belle" my beauty, or "Mon Coeur" my heart . Hearing these terms of endearment from him makes your heart flutter every time.

Despite being at your gigs, you always manage to keep tabs on Charles's races. During breaks between songs, you discreetly ask someone from your band's crew for updates on your boyfriend's race position. Charles finds it adorable and loves that you're always keeping track, no matter where you are.

Charles loves brainstorming with you for new songs. He's always there to bounce ideas off, offering a fresh perspective and helping you fine-tune your creations.

Sometimes, during interviews or public appearances, Charles subtly mentions your band or a particular song, expressing his admiration for your talent.

"Ah, well, you know, I've got to say, my girlfriend is an incredible musician. She plays bass in her band, and honestly, she's amazing. The way she pours her heart and soul into her music—it's something else. I'm really proud of her. I mean, I know I'm probably going on about her, but it's hard not to when you're so impressed by someone's talent, you know?" smirks "She's got this way of captivating the audience with her passion for music that's just... it's something special. And yeah, I think I'm a pretty lucky guy to have her in my life, both as an incredibly talented musician and as my partner." grins "Sorry, got a bit carried away there, but I can't help it. She's just that good."

He absolutely adores it when you pick up your bass and play just for him. Your private jam sessions, where you perform songs specially dedicated to him, become treasured moments between you both.

Charles loves it when you share your new compositions with him first, feeling honored to be the primary listener and your biggest supporter.

There have been a few secret moments where Charles has joined you on stage, playing a simple melody on the piano while you perform. It's a beautiful surprise for the audience.

Charles is your biggest fan at your band's performance. He proudly attends your shows and, to your surprise and delight, wears a shirt emblazoned with "My Hot Bassist Girlfriend" in the front row. His unwavering support and cheering from the crowd make your performances even more special.

He frequently plays your band's songs in the Ferrari garage, showing immense pride in your musical talent.

One day, Charles surprises you by gifting one of his favorite bracelets, a piece he hardly takes off. He expresses that he wants you to have something of his close to you, a sign of his deep affection and trust.

On race days, you proudly wear Ferrari-themed outfits but add your personal touch, incorporating elements that reflect your own style. Charles appreciates the gesture, feeling a sense of unity when he sees you in his team's colors.

[twistedinthreads]

Lost In The Labyrinth

Part 1.

You came to Oxford to get away from America; from your mother's fame and the ghosts of your past. You get more than you bargained for when you meet Felix.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: sexual content (not explicit but it's there so 18+ MINORS DNI), I used some descriptors for reader such as scars, birthmarks, imperfections, but I made her as inclusive as possible, reader is American, she's also a nepo baby but isn't using her nepotism in any real way. Bi!reader and Felix. fic title inspired by the taylor swift song, of course (and I am terrible at titles!)

Playlist (a work in progress!)

A/N: I am so insecure about this reading back over it omgggg but I'm posting it anyway! Hi friends. I've been working on this for so long, and I'm recovering from my surgery so I figured there's no time like the present. Here we are. I am obsessed with this movie and this man! I promise this fic is gonna get more interesting, but we've got this for now. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist, and feel free to send me asks if you want to talk about reader and her lore, because she is very special to me and I adore her already!!!

Your eyes droop as you hum along to the nameless blonde that stands in front of you, her sparkly pink cocktail dress catching the light and making her glow. She’s going on and on about how Everlasting Eve is her favorite movie of all time, and how your mother is “the greatest actress of our time!” You want to vomit. It’s not like this doesn’t happen, it’s practically a daily occurrence at this point, but you’d much prefer it if people stopped giving so much of a shit. If they did, you wouldn’t be stood with a bottle blonde from Bristol talking your ear off. You’d just stepped out to get some air, for Christ’s sake. 

“You’re from the States, right?” You nod, sipping at your cocktail and bouncing from one foot to the other to conserve some warmth in your legs. She asks it as if she hasn’t been talking your ear off and didn’t notice your accent, not as thick as it used to be when you’d lived in New York full time, but still foreign here. The music is less obnoxious out here, bass easing on your chest. It’s cooler, too, the fall night air brushing against your neck like a lover. “That’s brilliant! I went with my parents once, when I was a kid. We went to Disney World.” 

You smile and nod, muttering out a “cool” as you sip at your drink, cringing at its strength. 

“Is that far from where you live?” She asks, and you wonder how she got into this fucking school. Probably a legacy, with more money than she knows what to do with.

“Uh,” you suppress a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, like… incredibly South of New York.” 

“I’ve always wanted to go to New York,” she continues to babble. “My parents go on business trips there, but they’ve never taken me. I want to see where Little Angels was filmed! Uh, Lincoln Square Park?”

“Washington Square Park,” you correct her. 

“Yeah!” She snaps her fingers and points. “That’s it! When your mom’s character is waiting there for Hugh Grant’s character, and then they walk off into the sunset together? Absolutely the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen!”

You stare off into the distance vacantly, the night sky painted with different navy hues and dotted with the brushstrokes of stars. 

Suddenly, you feel a warm arm around your waist, hot breath on your cheek. “There you are!” You’d know that voice anywhere. The figure kisses you on the cheek and it takes everything in you not to start grinning from ear to ear. You turn, meeting his lips, and he plays along like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I’m gonna head home, wanna come with?”

You nod, thanking him with your eyes. He winks gently at you and grabs your hand. “Nice talking to you…” you’ve already forgotten her name. Her tone has completely shifted, body stiff as her eyes mull over you and the man that holds your hand with a vice grip. 

“Sandra.” It’s cold, but you keep your own voice chipper. 

“Sandra! Nice to meet you,” she’s in your college, so you’ll have to be cordial. “See you around?”

She just nods and lights a cigarette. 

As you walk away, one of Felix’s hands around your waist and the other holding your own, you look up at him. “Thank you so much. Holy shit. I was about to lose it.”

He lets out a low, intoxicated chuckle. “It’s what I’m here for, darling.” Uses his fingers on your chin, tugging lightly to kiss you hard on the mouth. He pulls away and you chase his lips, planting one more kiss on his mouth, this time softer. 

“Your room or mine?” You ask, to be met with a smirk as he grabs your hand and leads you across campus. It’s a path you could walk with your eyes closed, the muscle memory of so many nights embedded into your body by now. 

His room is all red carpet and wood paneling, empty takeout containers and beer cans and ashtrays strewn about. His bed is unmade and his textbooks are all over his floor, but it hardly matters when he’s kissing you like you’re the only person in the fucking universe. 

Within minutes, you settle back into a familiar routine. Clothes shed, completely bare to one another as you grind and writhe on top of him, hands on his toned chest. He’s gorgeous with his mouth open in ecstasy, labored breaths escaping it, eyes closed and clenched, hands rested on your waist as you move above him, a renaissance painting. You’re moaning too, tempering your whines so that the sounds don’t travel. The moon paints the room in subtle, cool light and the pleasure makes sweat bead on your brows.

“Missed you,” he manages between moans, voice heavy and breathy. “Missed this.” 

“It’s been like, two days,” you let out a chuckle, and it fades into a moan as you grind your hips again, trying not to scratch his chest with your manicured nails, though you doubt he'd mind too much.

“And that’s too long,” he replies, and you lean down and kiss him, open mouthed and messy and euphoric. 

When it’s all said and done, you lay naked beside him while he smokes a cigarette, arm laced around your bare shoulder, your head rested on his. It’s bliss, something you’ve begun to ache for all the time. “Really, thank you. That girl was driving me fucking insane.”

“That scene where your mom’s character and Hugh Grant ride off into the sunset together? Immaculate.” He mocks the girl, a surprisingly good impersonation, and you both belly laugh. You wipe away bits of red lipstick from his mouth and grin delicately at him. You know you’re not the only girl he’s seeing, not even the only girl he’s fucking, and it wedges something vile and dangerous in your heart. The words linger on your tongue. You want to ask, want to know, and if you sound desperate? Well, so be it. 

“What is this?” You wrench the words out quickly, looking at your hands. 

“What do you mean?” He takes a long drag of the cigarette, letting the smell perforate the air in the room, turning it cloudy in its wake. 

“Us,” you murmur, and he runs a hand through your hair. “Like… I know you’re fucking other people, Felix. And that’s fine but… I just want to be clear on what this.” 

He looks at you perplexed, smashing the cigarette in the ash tray and turning on his side toward you. You mirror his motions, so the two of you are laying in bed, you practically on top of him due to its size, your hands under your cheek. “I’m fucking other girls? News to me.” 

“I see the way you look at them,” you murmur. “India. Annabel. That guy you study with sometimes… Ryan?”

“I’m not fucking anyone else,” he mutters, seeming almost offended at the notion. He scoffs before his next words. “I practically haven’t even looked at anyone else.”

“Fe-“ he cuts you off, a hand brushing over your cheek, holding it delicately. 

“No,” he starts. “I know I have a reputation or whatever,” he waves his free hand around. “But I genuinely haven’t been seeing anyone else since we started… this.” He gestures between the two of you, and you can sense that he's lying, but it hardly matters. 

You’re almost self-conscious as his eyes rake over your body; so self aware of every little imperfection, every feature. The birthmark on your hip. The way one tit is just a bit bigger than the other. Your crooked finger from when you broke it playing volleyball in ninth grade. The gray hairs you’d been noticing popping up recently. 

“You’re the prettiest fucking girl at this college,” he says your name before kissing you sweetly. “Don’t want to look at anyone else.” You know it’s a lie, considering the fact that he does look at other girls, and often. It’s almost like you can’t bother to care, though. Your head is all floaty and tears are burning your eyes. 

He climbs on top of you, kisses down your chest, down your stomach, makes sure to take his time kissing that same birthmark you were so insecure about minutes before, your inner thighs, before finally landing where it matters most. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful, yeah?” He looks up at you with those gorgeous eyes, the earnestness in them making your heart swell up. In this moment, it’s not the same Felix that made you cry last week because he told you you needed to get your own friends (you have plenty), or the Felix that ignored you at the pub to talk to Annabel, causing you to storm out and ignore him for three days until he realized. 

Sometimes, he doesn’t care if you come, and he doesn’t clean up after himself, and sometimes his words bite, and last week he made that insensitive comment about your friend with depression. But you think you might love him, and it feels like enough. 

After, he asks you to stay with him. You laugh languidly, tears brimming at your eyes from how hard. He kisses you, soft and slow, the moonlight seeping into the window and painting the carpet with light; it looks like a lone puddle of blood in a sea of blackness. 

When you wake, it’s nearly noon. The sun beams through the curtains and you shield your eyes, trying to move underneath Felix’s strong grip. He’s got a hand wrapped around your thigh. Your leg wrapped around his waist while your arms are, slightly pained from the uncomfortable angle, folded around his neck. You regret moving your face from its spot in his chest, wanting nothing more than to occupy his space for as long as possible. 

You can’t bear to wake him, his eyelashes fluttering ever-so-slightly against his face. You smile, tuck yourself back into him, and feel his breaths come out relaxed and steady. The tranquility doesn’t last long, though, and you watch as his eyes flicker open. “Good morning,” his voice is raspy, his saccharine accent accentuating every word with posh sweetness. He kisses your cheek and gets up, your eyes meeting his bare ass. “I should go shower, you cool to stay here?” He asks as he gathers his things. 

“I need to go,” you also get up, searching around for your undergarments and your uncomfortable cocktail dress, pulling the blue, beaded garment on without much care. “Sundays are study days with June.”

You slip your uncomfortable heels on, wincing at the blister you’d developed last night but didn’t notice until now, and kiss him on the cheek as you leave his dorm. 

The trek across campus has you nearly limping in pain, as you kick your shoes off the second you make it into your room. You gather your shower gear, thankful for your own bathroom and the warmth of a long, hot shower. It’s almost painful to wash his scent off of you, but you know you’ll be seeing him again soon, and let your floral body wash cleanse you and your sore form. 

Before you get dressed, you grab antibiotic cream and bandaids from a drawer and tend to your blisters, throwing on a pair of slip-ons to avoid even more pain. 

And as you go to study with June, your mind is far from Shakespeare; it rests only on Felix, Felix, Felix. 

[kiyooriu]

NPMD headcanons based on nothing but what my 100% Real Psychic Powers tell me

- richie hates eating peanuts. not because he’s allergic, not because he dislikes the taste but a Secret Third Thing

- after exactly 2 hrs, 35 mins, and 16 secs pete will always ALWAYS stretch back and let out the loudest scream known to man to get his extra energy out

- ruth wrote an entire 1 hr 30 min musical based on star wars one night and it’s on soundcloud somewhere but she won’t tell anyone how to find it (pete found it on accident but won’t tell her because he knows she’d probably freak out about it, he still listens to it occasionally)

- steph can play the bass nd her go-to song is hey barbara (IV of Spades)

- in line with this ^^ pete has rudimentary guitar skills and wanted to write a few songs with ruth’s help but she refused

- grace wanted to learn how to play the flute but was never allowed to bc her parents thought it would “give her ideas”

- richie’s trans awakening was in elementary when he and two other friends wanted to dress as the kids from dinosaur king nd the other girl was really insistent on being zoe so he dressed up as rex and it Felt Nice

- richie’s BI awakening was the sasunaru kiss and he thought he was homophobic bc he “felt weird after seeing it”

- RUTH’S bi awakening was watching lotr fellowship of the ring when arwen said “if you want him, come and claim him” (she rewatched it multiple times and didn’t sleep)

- one time in elementary grace really wanted candy but her parents were Very against it so she paid a friend to get her one (1) gumball and dhe felt so bad she cried about it and wanted to lock herself up in church

- richie is Mildly into kpop (bc a lot of anime enjoyers i know also like kpop) and he tried to get ruth into it too (mostly the choreography bc he wants ruth to get into dancing again)

- everyone in grace’s elementary was reading harry potter nd she wanted to know what the hype was about but didn’t want the Devil Magic to get her so she borrowed a copy from the library under another student’s name and then burned it after reading to “show god she condemned the devil worshipping” (i think she’s unhinged enough for that)

- pete’s favorite scooby-doo character is shaggy ahaha

- steph used to roleplay teen titans with some childhood friends and would always ask the boy she liked at the time to be beast boy so she could be raven and pretend they were a couple

brain juice wore off pls enjoy the hcs 👾