#trail mix if i need to be full for a couple hours

[bardicinspired]

Stuck in that; I need to be healthier and lose weight but I'm prone to obessive thoughts and unhealthy thought patterns and I'm concerned I'll give myself an 💕 eating disorder 💕pipeline.

[rafecameronssl4t]

i’m actually obsessed with all your works pls i need more ceo!rafe and sweetheart!reader, maybe something with their kids??? you’re actually amazing 🙇‍♀️

Office visit || CEO!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: thank u for the request xx

Warnings: use of daddy and mommy but not in a sexual way 😭

Word count: 2,002

MASTERLIST (CEO!Rafe au masterlist)

“What do you boys want to do after this?” you ask, glancing back at Luca and Kai as they focus on their ice creams. The two of them sit on the edge of the bench outside the tennis club, still buzzing with energy after their lesson. The faint scent of sunscreen lingers, and their flushed cheeks tell the story of a morning well spent.

Kai pauses mid-bite, his little tongue darting out to catch a melting drip before it slides down his cone. His brows knit in concentration as he thinks, his chocolate-streaked fingers almost comically poised. Luca, always the quieter of the two, finishes his bite and watches his brother, waiting to see what he’ll suggest.

You reach over and smooth Kai’s tousled hair, the strands damp from sweat and the summer heat. “What about…” you trail off, pulling your phone from your bag to check the time. It’s just past noon, and an idea sparks. “How about we go and see Daddy at his office for lunch?”

Both boys instantly straighten, their eyes lighting up with excitement. “Yes! Yes!” they exclaim in perfect unison, their voices loud enough to draw amused glances from a passing couple. Kai bounces slightly in his seat, and Luca’s smile stretches wide, making your heart melt.

“Alright, finish up your ice creams first, and then I’ll make a quick call to see if he’s free,” you say, chuckling at their eagerness. You bend down to zip up their small tennis bags, tucking away their water bottles and rackets. Their names are embroidered neatly on the sides of their bags, a gift from Rafe when they started lessons last year.

Sliding your phone out again, you scroll to Rafe’s assistant, Rachael, and hit call. It barely rings once before her bright, professional voice answers. “Hi, Mrs. Cameron! How are you?” “Hi, Rachael,” you greet warmly, stepping a little away from the boys, who are now energetically debating whether they should bring Daddy a surprise snack. “Does Rafe have any meetings or calls in the next hour or so? The boys want to see him, and I thought we could bring lunch.”

“Let me check for you,” Rachael replies. You can hear the soft tapping of keys as she looks at his schedule. “You’re in luck—he’s free until 2 p.m. today!” “Perfect,” you reply with a relieved smile, already picturing Rafe’s reaction. “We’ll be there soon. Thanks, Rachael.” “Of course! See you soon,” she says, and you hang up, sliding the phone back into your bag.

Turning back to Luca and Kai, you find them eagerly finishing their ice creams, their little legs swinging excitedly beneath the bench. “Okay, it’s all set. Daddy’s free, so we’re heading to his office. But first, wipe those sticky hands!” you tease, handing them some napkins. They giggle as they clean up, practically bouncing with excitement as they climb into the backseat of the car.

You secure their tennis bags in the boot and slide into the driver’s seat, glancing in the rearview mirror to see their gleaming faces. As you pull out of the car park, their excited chatter fills the car. “Do you think Daddy will let us sit at his desk like last time?” Kai asks. “Maybe we can help him work!” Luca chimes in, his voice hopeful.

You laugh, your heart full as you drive toward Rafe’s office. “Let’s see how much work Daddy gets done with you two around,” you joke, feeling a surge of warmth at the thought of surprising him with his two biggest fans.

~

The second you parked your car in the reserved spot beside Rafe’s sleek black car, Luca and Kai were out of their seats in a flash. “Wait for me!” you called, though you already knew your words would be ignored. You watched with a mix of amusement and exasperation as the two bolted toward the glass sliding doors, their laughter echoing through the underground parking lot.

“No running inside, please!” you called after them, quickly grabbing your bag and locking the car. Your heels clicked rhythmically against the pavement as you hurried to catch up. By the time you reached the doors, Steve, the ever-friendly security guard stationed by the front entrance, was already greeting them. “Well, hello, Luca and Kai!” he said with a broad smile, his weathered face lighting up at the sight of the energetic boys.

“Hi, Steve!” they chorused, their voices loud and cheerful before they darted further into the building. You reached Steve just in time to catch his amused chuckle. “And hello to you, Mrs. Cameron,” he greeted warmly, his tone respectful yet familiar. “Hi, Steve,” you replied with a smile, placing a light hand on his arm. “How’s Margaret doing?” you asked, genuinely curious about his wife.

“She’s doing well, thank you,” Steve replied with a proud nod, the lines around his eyes crinkling with warmth. “That’s wonderful to hear,” you said softly, offering a kind smile before glancing ahead to see Luca and Kai at the front desk, already reaching for the small bowl of lollies. “I’d better catch up with them before they cause too much trouble. See you later, Steve!”

“Have a good visit, Mrs. Cameron,” he called after you with a wave as you made your way inside. The front desk staff greeted you with bright smiles as you approached. “Hello, Mrs. Cameron!” Jake, one of the receptionists, said cheerfully. You chuckled softly, smoothing Luca’s hair as he eagerly unwrapped a lollipop. “I hope these two aren’t bothering you too much,” you joked.

“Not at all,” Jake replied with a grin, glancing down at the boys. “They always bring a little extra energy to the office.”“Well, that they do,” you said, shaking your head fondly as Kai offered Jake a gummy bear from his stash. “Alright, boys, let’s not take all the lollies.” Luca and Kai quickly popped the last of their treats into their mouths and followed you toward the elevator, their small feet pattering against the polished floors.

As the elevator arrived, a group of Rafe’s staff stepped out, their chatter pausing as they noticed you and the boys. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Cameron,” one of them greeted, while another bent down to fist bump Luca and Kai. “Good afternoon,” you replied, nodding politely as the boys giggled, clearly thrilled by the attention.

You guided them into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor, where Rafe’s office was located. The doors closed, and the boys glanced up at you, their excitement bubbling over. “Do you think Daddy will be surprised?” Luca asked, his voice full of anticipation.

“I think he’ll be very happy to see you,” you assured them, adjusting the strap of your bag as the elevator hummed softly. As the elevator ascended, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, already picturing the look on Rafe’s face when he saw his two little boys storming into his office like it was theirs.

~

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, revealing the sleek, modern design of Rafe’s executive floor. The expansive space was quiet, save for the faint hum of activity from his staff in the open office areas. Luca and Kai immediately bolted out of the elevator, their small sneakers squeaking against the polished marble floors as they made a beeline for Rafe’s corner office.

“Boys, wait!” you called, your voice firm but amused as you followed them at a brisk pace, your heels clicking against the floor. You exchanged polite smiles and greetings with passing employees, most of whom glanced at the boys with fond amusement. It wasn’t the first time Luca and Kai had stormed through these halls like a whirlwind.

By the time you reached Rafe’s office, the boys had already pushed the heavy door open just enough to slip inside. You caught up just in time to see them racing toward Rafe’s large mahogany desk. Rafe was seated behind it, his brow furrowed as he reviewed a stack of papers. The sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows highlighted the sharp lines of his face, but the moment he heard the familiar sound of his sons’ excited giggles, his head snapped up.

“Daddy!” Luca and Kai shouted in unison, running around the desk to get to him. Rafe’s expression softened instantly, his serious demeanour melting away as he leaned back in his chair. “Well, what’s this?” he asked, his lips curving into a smile. He opened his arms just in time for the boys to climb onto his lap, their chatter filling the room.

“We came to surprise you!” Kai exclaimed, wrapping his small arms around Rafe’s neck. “Did you now?” Rafe replied, his tone warm as he ruffled Kai’s hair. He glanced over the boys’ heads to see you standing in the doorway, a knowing smile on your face as you watched the scene unfold. “And you brought reinforcements, I see.”

You chuckled, stepping further into the room. “They insisted. It was either this or trying to sneak into your meetings.” “Good call,” Rafe said with a smirk, shifting Luca onto his other knee. “You two behaving for Mommy?” Luca nodded earnestly, though the mischievous glint in his eyes made Rafe arch a brow. “Mostly,” you teased, leaning against the edge of his desk.

“Mostly?” Rafe echoed, giving them both a mock stern look that made Kai giggle. “We were good, Daddy!” Kai insisted, throwing his arms out dramatically. “I’ll take your word for it,” Rafe replied, pressing a kiss to the top of Kai’s head before glancing at you. “Thank you for bringing them. This is the best kind of interruption.”

“They wanted to see you,” you said softly, your heart warming at the sight of Rafe with the boys. “And they may have bribed the front desk staff with gummy bears on the way up.” Rafe laughed, his deep, rich tone filling the office. “Sounds about right. So, what’s the plan now, little troublemakers?” “Lunch with you!” Luca declared, leaning against his father’s chest.

“Lunch, huh?” Rafe looked between them, feigning thought. “Well, I think I can make that happen. What do you guys feel like eating?” “Pizza!” Kai shouted, while Luca chimed in with, “Burgers!” Rafe glanced at you, his grin widening. “Guess we’re having both.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll call get Rachael to call the kitchen while you catch up with your boys.”

As you stepped aside to make the call, you couldn’t help but glance back at them—Rafe, with his arms full of Luca and Kai, looking more at ease than you’d seen him in weeks. Moments like these made all the chaos worthwhile.

[carbonfiction]

A little suprise

Summary: After another cosy Christmas morning shared together, it’s time for the gifts. Little things thoughtfully bought, wrapped and passed over. This year however, theres something else. Something you've meticulously managed to keep hidden for a little while now.

Master list. Words: 1.2k

Warnings: tw mentions of pregnancy/pregnancy announcement. (Chosen to tw this simply bc im aware of how tough it can be for those struggling with conception/fertility ect, especially this time time of year. i want you to know my heart is with you, your time will come🫶) Lumberjack Logan is a sweetheart, mostly just a nice lil finding-out-he’s-gonna-be-a-dad Logan fluff with a smiiiiige of swearing. Lo calls reader “momma”

The parasites in me yearned for origins dad Logan, so I had to write origins dad Logan. Or in other words, its Christmas and I desperately can’t stop thinking about that large man with a teeeeny tiny baby.. Tadaaaaaa <33 merry Christmas loves!

Christmas morning was always peaceful in the howlett household. It would begin with sleep laced kisses, limbs tangled together as you hold each other close. It's hours before either of you actually leave the bed, too warm and content with eachothers presence to even consider it.

But when you do the first place you go, after the bathroom of course, is to the kitchen. Logan begins breakfast- or nearer brunch by then. While you make sure the coffee machine is switched on and freshly brewing the hot liquid into your usual cups- a cheesy wedding present from a friend, mugs that read 'Mr' and 'Mrs'.

Then, once dinner is roasting slowly in the oven for later, come the gifts. All soundtracked by a movie playing in the background. Little things wrapped and passed over- for you comes a cosy pair of pajamas with matching socks that you'd pointed out a while back, along with a little hamper full of your favorite treats; a perfect mix of sweet and savory to snack on when the mood takes you; or when wrapped up tighter watching a movie.

While you gift him a fresh collection of cigars and workboots that offer a little extra comfort to those long days he spends at the yard on his feet.

But.. Theres also something else. Something you've meticulously managed to keep hidden for a little while now.

You steady yourself with an anxious exhale before you tap logan on the knee. "Theres one last one.." you say with a smile, quickly retreating to the bedroom and coming back to stand infront of him with a neatly wrapped box in hand.

Logans brow rises, a crease then wedging between them as he looks over the gift and its carefully tied bow. "Thought we agreed on a couple things each?" he murmers.

Hes right, you had agreed that, both having felt like each others company was all you really needed..

"Well, its a Surprise..” you trail, urging him to open it as nuterally as you could. Anxiety festering deep in your chest, part of you unsure just how this would go down.

Its silent as his fingers pluck and pull at the ribbon, deftly untieing it until its left in a pile besides him on the couch. Next is the lid, decorative tissue paper also following as his eyes rake over the unveiled contense.

"Sweetheart?.." logan questions in a whisper, fingers gently lifting out a pair of tiny booties and a matching flannel shirt; Both purposely mirroring items he owned. "what.. what’s all this?”

Logan feels his heart hammer in his chest, mouth going dry. are you telling him what he thinks you are?

“What’s it look like Logan?" you giggle softly, a hint of nerves in your eyes as you look down at him. You grasp an ultrasound photo and the positive test from the pocket of your sweats then, placing them in his hands over the little shirt.

You watch as his eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, crease flying away from his brows as he takes in the words written on the test; illuminated by the soft glow of the tree lights. 'Positive'

“You-" he starts, words trembling dryly from his tongue. "you’re really pregnant?”

Tears begin to sting at your waterline as he looks up, your gazes meeting as you nod, bottom lip bitten tight between your teeth. "yeah, ‘m really pregnant.. gonna be a dad lo”

Sure, you'd had conversations in the past about this situation, had both agreed kids would be something you'd like to share one day, but you never actively began trying. Never fucked for the sake of conception. It had just.. happened.

A birthday celebration mixing with a slip up in taking your birth control- an accident you weren't sure you felt guilty for at this point, not with the look clouding over logans features.

Features soon shared by the little you or him growing inside you.

You wobble forward as Logans arms engulf your waist, pulling you toward him with the enthusiasm of a child receiving a toy they'd wanted forever.

Tears begin to stream down your cheeks, landing wetly on your fingers as they find home in the soft tufts of his hair.

“I’m gonna be a dad.." he murmers incredulous and full of wonder as his forehead presses into the fabric of your shirt. You dont know if hes talking to you or himself, but its just quiet enough for you to hear it through your now hiccuped sobs.

“Are you happy?” you sniffle, still slightly unsure. He feels you pull at his hair until his gaze meets you, chin resting gently on your ribs.

“shit sweetheart, yeah" he smiles and its bright on his face as he stands to hold you properly. Logans lips press against yours, the kiss filled with unspoken emotions as the addictive taste of him hits your tongue.

He holds you tightly at the waist for a few moments and its with trembling fingers he pulls back. His head dipping to look you in the eyes, touch twice as gentle when his hands come up from your sides to gently cup your cheeks. Calloused thumbs swiping at the tears that still fall "course I'm happy, are you?"

"Yeah. Yeah Im happy" you assure, teary eyes brightening. "beyond happy even"

A grin lights logans expression as he looks down, glittering as bright as the Christmas lights surrounding you.

"You know, I was.." he starts, clearing his throat as it crackles with emotion. "God i was just thinkin what a pretty momma you’ll make but.. you already are a momma huh.." one of his hands move again, deft fingers creeping under your shirt now until his large palm sits gently against the small swell of your stomach. Your heart skipping at the feel of the cool metal of his wedding band. "growing our kid in there..”

“Well, it’s technically sill early d-“ you go to say, but he cuts you off. “Your glowing already you know that sweetheart?"

His lips find yours again, fingers still cupping your jaw as his next words press against your mouth in a soft coo. "My beautiful girl.. Our baby's gorgeous momma"

Your arms wrap around his neck, swaying gently as love drunk grins adorn both your faces. The room filled with a new kind of excitement. A memory made you know both of you will remember forever. “i Love you Logan...” you affirm, hushed.

"Love you more sweetheart, like you wouldnt believe." he honeys back softly, stroking his thumb over your belly again "Giving me the damn world here"

Its silent then for a while after, appart from the crackle of the fire. Post dinner you both rest full, wrapped up in each others arms on the couch. you lying curled onto his chest.

Your fingers alternate drawing shapes and drumming on his left pectoral, wide grins still adorning your faces as you peek over at the test, photo, boots and flannel still sitting on the coffee table.

You hum softly then, breaking the silence with a simple whisper of his name. "Logan?"

He responds just as quiet, hand still not having left its new home on your tummy. "Yeah sweet girl?"

"Once i get huge.." you start with a teasing glint making logan cock a brow as he listens. "Im reserving the right to be carried around the house.."

That makes Logan chuckle, the louder rumble shaking beneath where you lay as you too break into a fit of giggles.

He shakes his head, lips kissing your hair softly as he speaks, still deeply amused. “Whatever you want momma, whatever you want."

Is this my best work? Fuck no, fluff is my kryptonite. But Was it a sweet thought? Yeaaa..

[solbaby7]

I loved Blurred Lines!! Do you think you’d ever want to do a part 2 for when Rhys shows up? 👀 👀🔥

[ part one ]

Rhysand hears you before he see’s you.

Unhinged shouts and the rhythmic smacking of skin on skin pulling him closer, beckoning him inside. The concealed safe house reeks of sex, clothes scattered around the floor from the moment he walks in; chairs are tipped over, rugs askew and there’s a dent on the hallway wall.

He doesn’t bother calling out for you, certain that you probably wouldn’t hear him anyway through the drug-induced haze. The traces of it lingers in your scent, spiking sweet honey and brown sugar with strong notes of spicy cinnamon that settles thick in his throat. “Swear, I can take it, Az.” Desperate whines and choppy breaths coupled with deep grunts and a husky swear at the sound of your plea. “Just a little harder.”

Rhys knew it shouldn’t have affected him the way it did. The blood that rushed between his legs at the sound of Azriel complying, doing everything you’d asked for and more. Neither of you even notice him, shadows too distracted in squeezing at heaving breasts and gliding up the length of your neck. A soothing cool to combat the overwhelming heat that Azriel had spent hours trying to quench.

It would work for a little while before the need grew again, demanding more tongue and teeth biting into your shoulders. Blazing for the harsh grip of Azriel’s hands on your hips as his cock nudged in as far as your body allowed. “Rhys will be here soon,” He’d mutter into the shell of your ear when you’d clench around him, hips stuttering and tears streaming down your cheeks from the sensitivity of yet another orgasm.

And yet, still your body commanded more.

“It won’t stop,” Sweat beads at your hairline, hair tangled and lips swollen as your body holds onto Azriel like a lifeline. Filthy sounds squelch between where you begin and he ends, arousal dripping like a leaky faucet. “Why won’t it stop?”

“Rhys,” Azriel sighs in relief when the High Lord comes into view, exhaustion evident in tousled inky hair and droopy lids but he’s too lost in the feeling to stop. The spymasters wings are splayed out behind him as your hands wander freely along the leathery texture, hips rocking and tongue dragging along the side of his neck. “You’re here.”

Rhysand nods once, easing you off and into his arms. You find instant relief with his touch, face buried in his neck as he guides you into the bathroom. The water in the tub had long since ran cold and yet it’s perfectly warm when he rests you inside. “Took you long enough,” You whisper weakly, voice raspy from overuse. “I nearly broke him.”

His jaw clenched, unreasonable jealously tickling at the edge of his mind at the sight of Azriel’s marks on you. “I can see that,” Rhys pushes damp hair from your face, cupping at flushed cheeks to stare into your eyes. At the bright specks the shade of lavender dotting the iris, a stark contrast from pupils blown with lust. “Amren said it sounds like you were drugged with a strong mix of herbs; mostly meant to disorient but a natural side-affect is debilitating arousal.”

“She say how long it’ll last?”

Rhys grimaces slightly, hesitating before answering. “Depending on how much you ingested? Roughly a few hours, possibly less.”

Your heart plummets. So much time had already passed. How much more could you possibly endure?

More. More. More.

Every bone in your body screams as you watch the High Lord undress, exposing sun-kissed skin and mouth-watering tattoos. The water trickles when your thighs shift, searching for friction as a fresh wave of need rises. “In that case,” Your hand trails down beneath the water, hyperaware of the violet stare tracking every move. “I hope you brought your stamina.”

He’s quick to join you in the tub—even quicker when he tugs you on top of him, pressing claiming kisses to your mouth and he slides in with ease, hushed curses falling from full lips from the near unbearable heat of your cunt. “It’s not my stamina you should be worried about,” Rhysand’s deliberate in the way he slowly lifts you off him, watching more of his length come into view until only the fat tip of his cock is inside. “I’ll spend all night fucking the smell of him off you if I must.”

[beardedjoel]

pretty little wife | sorry, baby

joel miller x f!reader one shot collection

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | ✨kofi ✨ summary: 4k words. Joel is stressed and busy with a big project at work lately. His pretty little wife makes it all better. warnings: 18+ MDNI! no apocalypse au, pre-established relationship/dynamic, sub/dom relationship, free use kink, oral sex (m receiving), cock worship (!! yes), unprotected piv, rough sex, dirty talk, pet names for reader, sir kink making a reappearance, bit of fluff mixed in, mention of food/eating, @ GOD WHY ISNT THIS ME a/n: I'M BACK. these two sick lovebirds are back 😭 i needed something sweet to write while working on smother so here's some cute domestic sucking and fucking from my favorite couple MWAH reminder i have no taglist anymore, follow @beardedjoel-updates to hear about my new fics!

Gonna be late again. Sorry baby.

Joel’s hurried text had pinged your phone a few hours ago, and you reassured him it was no problem, of course. You know that his company is contracting on a huge project in downtown Austin right now, and it required a lot of Joel’s attention. He’d been giving so much you were surprised that he had anything left in the tank when he came home to you. But by god, so many nights he sure did, coming home in a frenzy to fuck you, taste you, finding you where you were when he arrived home - cleaning up dishes from dinner, the shower, already curled up in bed with a book on one particularly late night.

You relished in him releasing everything into you - the stress of his day instantly melting with a simple touch of his lips to yours, drinking in your curves and soft skin with rough hands and frenzied yet controlled movements. It always seemed like the more stressed he was, the more he couldn’t get his cock in you fast enough, the more relentless he was in the ways he took care of you. He’d leave you spent, dripping, and aching, letting you talk softly about your day as he stroked your hair afterwards, all sweetness and hushed tones until you two fell asleep.

You peer into the living room from the kitchen to see Joel walking in, looking generally askew and you frown. When his shoes are yanked off and placed in the closet he looks up to see you leaning on the doorframe, lips full and pouting, finger sticking up with a patch of cookie dough stuck to it to taste test. You stand in a long, threadbare t-shirt of his and pink cotton panties, just what Joel had set out for you this morning, and he makes sure to thank his past self for such a wise choice this morning. You’d laughed at the lack of bra or any kind of pants, knowing it was no accident you’d ended up dressed without any bottoms on today. You aim to please, and the look Joel gives you whenever he sees you exactly how he envisioned you for the day always makes your heart soar a little higher. 

He finds his way to the couch, sprawling out and giving you an exhausted look. You stick the errant finger into your mouth, sucking the sweet, sugary cookie dough off and licking your lips. Joel’s expression changes quickly, his interest clearly sparked, but the wearisome look doesn’t leave his eyes. 

“Baby?” you ask, your brows furrowing further with worry. This wasn’t your husband, this wasn’t Joel, and you always hate to see him have a tough day. It makes your heart ache when he works too hard, gives too much of himself and winds up burnt out. You certainly don’t mind making it all better for him, that’s what you’re here for, after all, but it pains you nonetheless.

“C’mon over here, little wife,” Joel murmurs, running a hand down his weary face. When he pulls it away, he gazes at you with heavy lids before propping his hands behind his head. 

You saunter over to him, standing next to where he lays and reaching down to graze your fingers over his stretched bicep, trailing it inwards towards his face. He hums, fluttering his eyes closed for a brief moment and enjoying the way your gentle fingers work across his cheekbones and through his beard. 

His hand slowly moves from behind his head to curve around your waist, drawing you nearer, the front of your knees hitting the side of the couch cushions now. His silent signals are obvious to you at this point, so you don’t waste a moment swinging your leg around his body, tucking it in between his thigh and the back of the couch, settling in to straddle him. A hand runs gently down his chest as you tilt your head, studying his face in concern. 

“What’s my husband need from me?” you ask quietly, letting your other hand bury itself in his curls, scratching at his scalp. 

Joel lets out a pleasured groan, nearly shuddering at the feeling. “Fuck, baby.” You feel his body shift underneath you, already squirming with the sensation of your fingers doing their work on him. “Make me feel good.” 

“Let’s get you more comfortable, then,” you coo, fingers already moving on the buttons of his shirt, making quick work of the top few to let his chest breathe a little bit. You take only a beat to admire the top of his chest poking out, curls of hair sticking out wild and messy before getting to work. You slither down his body, giving yourself enough room to undo his belt before pulling it out of its loops and tossing it aside. 

“Lift, please,” you say, keeping up your gentle, soothing tone as Joel’s hips lift off the couch and allow you the space to pull down his dress pants, wriggling them down to his ankles and then over his feet. “Now that’s better, isn’t it?”

“Mmm,” Joel answers, a pleasant little hum from the back of his throat. You can feel how your ministrations have already gotten him hard as it brushes against your center when you settle back on top of his hips. A brief tease of your hips swirling on his sends Joel’s twitching, a sly little smile flashing on his lips. But you’re gone an instant later, moving down the couch and settling next to his feet, sitting crossed legged to face them before taking one into your lap. 

“What’s this, now?” Joel asks, a slight tiredness to his voice now. 

“Ever heard of a foot rub?” you reply with a lifted brow. He chuckles and you watch his body rumble with the sound. 

“Givin’ me mouth today, are we?” he asks playfully, the tired laughter still fading off as he speaks. 

“I could,” you retort, pursing your lips and looking up from his feet to find his eyes peeking open, looking down at your delicate, innocuous smile with a plethora of hidden meaning behind it. 

“Such a dirty girl…” he murmurs, neatly cut off by the groan he lets out when you press in on one of his arches with your thumb.

“See? I know what you need, baby,” you coo, working your fingers into the tender spots on his foot, being sure to use just the right amount of pressure. You prop his foot in your lap, letting it hang there as you gently rotate his ankle, loosening everything up. 

“Christ,” he breathes out as you start on the other foot. His breathing is a little labored, pain and pleasure mixing together as you continue to help his weary soles. You work each foot until he sighs contentedly, a good sign that your work is finished. 

At least on his feet, that is. You run your hands teasingly up his thighs, settling them on his hips as you work your way back up his body, hips straddling his again. You lean down and brush your lips against his neck, peering up to watch Joel’s eyes flutter shut as he sighs again. The sound is music to your ears, anytime your husband makes that content, soft little sound you think you’ve reached heaven. You suck and flick little patches all over his neck, starting a slow, steady grind of your hips. 

“Oh, pretty girl,” Joel starts, landing a firm hand along your hip. “I can’t today… I’m so fuckin’ beat. You know I’d give anything to fuck my cock into you…” He murmurs the words with a hint of frustration. You know this is hitting Joel harder than he’s letting on, seeing as his singularly focused task most days is to find a way to get himself inside of you.

“Who said anything about you fucking me?” you ask slyly, hands hooking into the sides of his briefs. You watch as Joel’s eyes pop open and look at you mischievously. “You said to make you feel good, so that’s what I’m doing, my darling.” You keep your tone even and calming as you continue with your teasing, deft fingers playing under his waistband. 

Joel’s smirk grows and he reaches a hand up to gently pet the back of your head before pulling you to his face, kissing you deeply. “Good girl,” he says as he pulls away, the words falling right onto your own lips. “Doin’ as you’re told.”

You slink lower, getting to the spot you know excites him the most, straddling lower on his legs to bring your mouth down to his clothed cock. You plant small kisses along the obvious bulge and Joel reacts immediately with a small hiss through his teeth. You kiss and lick and suck, letting the fabric tamp enough of the pleasure to drive him crazy. 

“God damn it…” he grunts quietly, hips shifting as they spasm up towards your mouth when you suck another spot on the fabric, taking your sweet time, only a small form of torture for Joel. “You tryna make me ask you to pull my cock out and get your pretty mouth on it? Cause you know, once I’m not dead on m’feet I might have to punish you ‘f that’s the case.” His words tumble out slow and thick with his accent - that Southern drawl always comes out more when he’s tired and mumbling.

Your mouth curls deviously and you lick your lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” you reply in a low lilt. 

“Mhm…” Joel teases, but you heed his warning anyhow, tugging his briefs down to free his cock, nearly enraged as it throbs and drips precum from the way you’d already been working on it. Your tongue finds the salty fluid at his head, lapping it with just the tip of your tongue and swirling it around. You start to practically nuzzle it, catching his cock in the corners of your lips, letting your tongue get a few tiny kitten licks on his shaft as you rub it along your cheeks. The smooth skin glides along your face and you start to get messier with it, letting his cock start to spread his precum and your saliva along your cheeks as you let the flat of your tongue run along it.

Joel lets out a loud, long groan, fingers gripping deep into the couch cushion. He can barely contain himself as your tongue licks a thick stripe up underneath his length, tracing the most prominent vein. His hips stutter forward as he gives himself to the moment. 

“God damn, honey…” he whimpers quietly, eyes shutting in the bliss of the moment.

Your hands rub his thighs gently, kneading into them as you start to bob your head on his cock, taking a little more each time until he’s at the back of your throat. You fight the urge to gag, a little noise coming out of you, sending Joel’s hand flying to the back of your head, his gaze watching the way his cock disappears inside of your warm mouth.

“That’s it, choke on it like I like, pretty girl…” Joel mumbles, eyes rolling back a little as his cock fills your mouth. “My pretty wife…” he whispers with a reverence and respect, despite the degrading way he’s about to fuck your mouth.

You move with a little more urgency, your mouth stuffed and aching already, one hand coming up to grip the base of Joel’s cock and stroking there while your mouth works on him. Joel’s hand pushes down on your head, sending you a little further and you sputter, spit flying all around his cock and lap but it doesn’t deter you. His hips start to move of their own accord into you, matching the rhythm of your mouth pumping on him. Your body gets hot and desperate for him, your praise loving nature alight just by seeing how much he loves the way you pleasure him. Your thighs wriggle as your cunt aches and drips now, begging you for relief that you know will have to wait.

“God, fuck,” he cries out, “Needed this…” Joel seems to be practically revived, a new energy filling his weary body as he grunts and pants, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth in faster strokes now. You can sense how close he is, you know your husband’s body like the back of your hand now, his balls tightening and cock getting even harder on your tongue.

He grunts with the effort of sitting forward, yanking your head off of his cock and swiftly sliding his hands to your waist, hauling your entire body upwards so that your hips are above his. 

“Need this needy little cunt, look how soaked you are,” Joel coos with a genuine pity for you as he sees the wet stain on your panties.. His fingers tear your underwear to the side, giving enough room for his cock to position itself at your weeping entrance, giving you no time to even process it before he forces your hips to bear down on him.

You cry out in a long, wanting moan as he fills you up, the stretch of him burning in that familiar way that you love and crave so much. Joel is an addiction - your husband the one thing in life you could never get enough of, never filling you enough, never fucking you full and deep enough times that you’re fulfilled. He never fails to leave you satisfied, of course, but you’re always wanting more in the next moment, practically wishing you could live just like this - his cock stuffing you and stretching your pussy to its limits, sending that pain you live for deep inside of you until it turns to the most blinding pleasure. Gratitude overtakes you as you sink down completely, whispering out a fervent thank you as you feel yourself clench around him, eyes shut and head thrown back. Joel reaches to your chin, pulling your head to look down at him. 

“What was that?” he asks teasingly, rutting his hips up into your as he speaks. You shudder again, pussy clenching around him as you feel his length pressing against your walls.

“T-thank you,” you breathe out. “Thank you, sir…” You’re unable to say anything else, only look at him with half-lidded eyes and cry out wantonly when he pushes all the way in again, seating himself inside of you only to lift your hips up and do it all over again.

“Yeah… knew bein’ stuffed full of my cock would make you my polite girl again,” Joel says arrogantly, sending a fresh wave of arousal right between your legs, gushing around his girth. You nod, blinking down at him, rolling your hips and chasing your pleasure. You lean down a little closer to Joel, bringing your chest more flush with his, the change in angle devastating the both of you. 

“So fuckin’ full of me,” Joel whispers in your ear, taking it upon himself to bend his legs and start fucking up into you. You moan in his ear, tears springing to your eyes as you feel him close to your cervix, each deep thrust sinfully delicious and bordering on painful in the way that makes your skin tingle in the best way. You want to be used, you want him as deep as he can possibly go, to feel you entirely wrapped around him.

Joel grunts, hot breath fanning next to your ear as he holds you close. Your bodies are intermingling with sweat now, your ass slapping down onto his thighs reverberating through the quiet living room. It’s just this - the two of you, your shared breath, your intertwined bodies, nothing else matters or even registers to you now. Joel’s hips shift the slightest bit in angle and you cry out, your g-spot now overstimulated with attention as Joel’s cock pounds into you harder, brushing the spongy spot with each new movement into you.

You pant, clutching onto him and digging your manicured nails into his shoulder, scratching them along to his neck where you hang on for dear life.

“Fuck…” you murmur, feeling your body tensing, legs like jello as they shake on either side of Joel’s thighs. “Let me come, p-please, sir,” you whimper, holding back with every ounce of strength you have as the tingling warmth spreads, heat in your belly threatening to burst at any second.

“Hang on f’me, baby, fuck, n-not yet,” Joel replies in a huff, clearly close to that high himself. “Wanna fill you up right when you’re comin’ so pretty f’me.”

You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, holding back as your body screams at you with need. This wasn’t the first time Joel had you hold back your climax, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but it never got any easier. You whimper, nearing a sob as Joel thrusts into you, your hips rolling and stuttering into his movements. “Please… sir…” you cry.

Joel grunts out a stern no and continues to slam his hips into yours, growing harsher by the second. You’re a whimpering wreck, your body nearly about to betray you as Joel hits your g-spot again. Tears leak from your eyes with the psychological effort of holding back, but you know it’ll be worth it. It always is.

“Now,” Joel says simply, “Come for me, little doll,” he adds, finishing the sentence with a grunt as you start to lose control, feeling like a dam inside of you is bursting, all the pleasure rolling over you in dazzling waves. You flutter around Joel’s cock almost as hard as you ever have, squeezing his length as he lets out a small whimper himself. Your breathy moans right in his ear send goosebumps along his whole body despite how stifling the air is surrounding you two.

“Fuck…” he moans, his hips jerking a few times before he starts to spill himself into you. You continue to shake, pulling every last drop from him as you ride out your own high, Joel’s name rolling off your tongue as you moan.

“God, yeah…” you whimper out, finally collapsing onto Joel’s chest as his legs go limp underneath you. You both lay in silence, chests heaving and small smiles on your faces. Joel strokes the back of your head and your smile grows. Neither of you seem set on moving, the combination of both of your climaxes a slick mess between the two of you as you settle into a more steady rhythm of breathing.

“Mmm…” Joel mumbles out the noise. “How’s my pretty little wife today, hm?” he asks quietly, fingers tracing down your cheeks to your lips.

“You’re late to ask,” you tease him with a laugh, typically hearing that question before anything else when he gets home. He uses his free hand to squeeze your ass cheek in warning at your bratiness and you grin. “But better now,” you answer in the familiar response to your favorite question from him.

“Thought so,” Joel says wryly, giving you ass a lazy pat before kissing the side of your head. He’s quiet for a few moments before lifting your hips off of his, your body immediately missing the sweet fullness of him as you both sit up. Joel brings your legs over his and you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling like the most natural fit in the world. 

“‘M sorry about all this, baby - all the late nights and bein’ stressed and probably bein’ a grouch,” Joel says, his voice laden with guilt. He circles on your bare thigh with his fingers and you shudder a little, snuggling further into him. One of your hands wraps around his cheek, turning his head to meet your eye line and you give him a soft smile.

“You think you just now started being a grouch?” you joke, knowing you’re pushing your limits on how much bratiness Joel will tolerate in one day before things escalate.

He growls deep in his throat and you giggle softly, scratching your fingers through his hair. “Thin ice, baby…” he murmurs.

“I love my grumpy husband,” you say sweetly, fingers moving down to run through his rough beard. “It’s okay though, Joel. Promise. I just miss you, but this busy and crazy time will pass like it always does, right? In the mean time...” you lower your voice, a finger trailing from his cheek to his neck and down his chest. “We can just do that anytime you need it.” 

Joel chuckles, giving your entire body a squeeze against him. “That’s my good girl. Always ready f’me.” You smile into his chest at his praise before he continues. “We’ll do somethin’ this weekend, the two of us an’ spend some time together, mkay? Make up for all this bullshit.”

You feel your heart squeeze inside your chest and your stomach flutter a little at the idea. Joel has typically been pretty good about planning dates over the years, but you know that it’s been hard with his extra workload lately, so you’ve been missing the romantic evenings he’d plan for you two. You’d tried to ask about planning one yourself, and Joel shut you down immediately in the sweetest way possible, claiming the responsibility fully for himself to do that for you.

“Ooh, yes please,” you reply excitedly, hugging him close.  

“‘S a date then,” Joel confirms, leaning his head back onto the couch while you stay resting on his shoulder. You both fall into a comfortable quiet again, Joel’s breathing steadying as he dozes off. 

“Do you want a cookie?” you ask into the silence, sitting up. Joel’s eyes creak open from where he’d been resting them and he glances down at you with furrowed brows. 

“That s’posed to be some kind of euphemism, darlin’?” he asks groggily. You laugh, throwing your head back a little and shuffling yourself to sit up on the edge of the couch. 

“Could be,” you giggle, “Real cookies this time, though. You can even sneak one before dinner.” 

Joel perks up a little, eyes opening a bit more. “Chocolate chip?” he asks, a boyish glint in his gaze. 

“Of course,” you nod, and Joel smiles tiredly, sitting up to join you on the edge of the couch. 

“You know you’re the best wife?” Joel says, nudging you with his shoulder and leaning over for a quick peck on your cheek before standing up and pulling his pants back on. He moans and groans while he twists his back and stretches his arms over his head for a few moments, and you know his knees must be flaring up as they do when he’s more stressed.

“Just one,” you warn Joel as you see him making his way to the kitchen trying to look like some kind of master sleuther on the hunt for fresh baked cookies. “I’m making dinner soon.���

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel tosses over his shoulder at you before disappearing around the corner. When you make your way to the kitchen, you watch him take a bite off of a cookie from the cooling rack and you stand with crossed arms, admiring him. His eyes look you up and down with a similar appreciation, landing between your legs where he sees your underwear completely soaked and stained from your recent rendezvous. He smirks as he chews, stepping towards you. 

“An’ don’t you dare think about changing your underwear,” he says in a low rumble, eyes flicking all over your face as he gets close to read if you’re going to keep up your bratty streak today. Instead, you give him a docile little upturn of your lips - he’s been through enough today - and brush past him to start working on dinner. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

[becca-e-barnes]

I need more of needy Bucky who loses control from the feeling of being inside your pussy. I need him to fuck me like a rag doll and to carry me over his shoulder around the house like his personal flesh light.

Fuck, this has always been one of my very favourites to write. I really like to imagine that he struggles to last but he can keep going after he finishes 🙈 it's my lil filthy fantasy

But imagine spending the morning in bed with him. You both wake up around 6am and you spend the first little while just touching and chatting before a couple of hours of sex. Now it's maybe around 11am and after lying there together for a while, you're both in the mood for something to eat.

You pull a robe around you and that's just about as much as you manage before Bucky's scooped you up, carrying you to the kitchen.

"You don't need to carry me everywhere!" You tease, remembering that he'd carried you up the stairs to bed last night too.

"I know. But. Carrying you means. I. Can put you. Exactly. Where. I want you." He peppers kisses over your face and neck, tenderly capturing your bottom lip between his before he sets you up on the kitchen countertop.

There's no point arguing with him so you sit there quite happily. He makes up a quick pancake mix, washes some berries from the fridge, preps the coffee machine and sets the little dining table for the two of you.

Somewhere in between, you got a little distracted, perched on the counter scrolling on your phone. You hadn't noticed the way he's looking at you.

He's so caught up in the little things; the way the light hits your shoulder, the curve of your hips, the way the silhouette of your nipples are visible against the satin robe.

"Look at you, sitting there all sweet like your cunt isn't so fucking full of me."

That's got your attention.

You squirm a little, your body fluttering at how shamelessly vulgar he's being but nothing's stopping you from doing the same.

You spread your legs, exposing the slick mess coating your inner thighs. It's a mixture of your own arousal and Bucky's cum, dripping out of your sensitive cunt.

Your fingertips trail lazily over your exposed sex, your skin glistening in the natural light before you bring your fingers to your own lips, sucking them clean, giving him a little bit of a show.

"Tastes amazing, sweetheart." You groan, noticing the growing bulge in his thin pyjama bottoms. "But I lost track of how many times you came inside me this morning. You came so deep, most of your cum won't have dripped out yet. Bet I'm still totally stuffed full."

He sinks to his knees in no time, settling his head between your thighs, breathing in the faint smell of your arousal. His tongue presses flat to your sex, trailing from your hole to your clit and back, gathering as much of your combined release as possible.

He groans, low and pathetic, allowing his tongue to dip inside you as deep as he can bury it. He savours every drop of cum he earns back from your body.

When his tongue alone isn't enough, he slips a finger into you, followed quickly by a second, curling them against your sensitive inner wall.

"Bucky baby, please don't make me cum again." You groan, your fingers tangled in his dark hair but you know he's not giving you that choice. Not when his free hand is furiously stroking his own cock, desperate to ensure that when he's finished licking his cum out of you, he can flood your cunt with another load.

[metranart]

My one and only wants you, so he’ll have you (Part 7)

ft. Sensei! Gojo Satoru, sensei! Suguru Geto, reader insert, slight! Megumi x reader.

Gojo Satoru and Suguru Geto happily married, you, their lovely student and the cause of their ragging temptation. The problem: their son, Megumi, your best friend.

⭕️ NSFW ARTWORK OF THIS CHAPTER

𖦹 Warning tags: Gojo x Reader x Geto, threesome, married couple, Suguru and Gojo happy married couple, polyamory, Teacher-Student Relationship.

-

“Fuck-…. Do your very best not to scream, baby.” The heated boy requested and a trail of kisses down your breast followed, you squeaked, and he chuckled against your belly as he kept his way down, until his wet lips kissed your sweet folds.

“Megumi-i….” you pleaded, and he smashed your heated core against his face, ��where’s-where’s the timid Fushiguro?” you end up teasing.

“You make him this feral, pretty one.” You heard his husky voice muffled your folds as he ate you just as his father did hours ago. Your body squirmed, tensed and relaxed in the lapse of ten minutes straight, Megumi was as insatiable as he was agile with fingers and tongue.

“I need to-…. I need to-”

He didn't even have to finish his sentence when you spread your legs wider, presenting yourself to him and his hungry gaze.

"I said: Don't hold back, ain't I?" You reminded him, and before Megumi lost it completely to become his father’s son. Your mouth wrapped that big, awfully thick piece of meat shinning on precum inside, tasting him, licking from head to balls. Making his skin spark in thousands of goosebumps and his bones to tremble inside his body.

This was pure glory, his dream come true, this was heaven to him. Thrusting a few times inside your wet cave just to shoot a small spurt of cum right into your throat, panting and heaving himself away from you before he came completely.

“Inside you,” he ordered, and you grinned so sensually he almost came on the spot, desire shinning in your orbs made him feel more welcome than his parents the first time he met them. Fuck! You were his everything and moving your body to his liking he positioned himself between your spreads thighs to easily slip inside you, of course, after being eaten so thoughtfully the entire day, your walls almost welcome him and shaped around his girth as if he belonged inside you.

“Fuck!” Megumi growled, blissed out. “OHGOD! I’m home-”

He tasted the smile on your face as you claimed his lips to kiss him, and Megumi’s hips started slow yet quickly gain inch by inch, heroically claiming you as he thrusted -wild and feral- inside your wetness, you feel like the nicest pocket of flesh, your gummy walls pulsating around him felt devastatingly good.

Wet noises mixed with high pitched mewls from your parted quivering lips and deep grunts pour out of him from time to time as he reached deeper inside your welcoming core. 

It was lewd the barbaric way Megumi had chosen to breed you.

He doesn’t remember burying his palm in your mane to spin you around and practically shove you on top of his mattress to change positions over and over again, twisting you to his liking. 

Cannot recall wrapping your legs around him to force you to ride him, or his mouth rejoicing in your delicious pair of round breasts to have his full, squeezing and pinching the perked flesh with teeth while defiling you.

When did he started to slam full force into you, rattling the mattress as he sheath himself in your slick warmth to the hilt, still eluded him. The raven-haired devil was carelessly reordering your womb as he devotedly fed your tight lips his cock. Openly dismissing your pleas for him to go slower, to be gentler…instead, kept rocking mercilessly deep making sure to hit, brazenly and repeatedly, that special spot inside you just to see the fireworks.  

A pleased sound rumbled in his chest with contained mirth and a disturbingly stretched grin betrayed his natural compose self. 

“My sweet–sweet (Y/N)” he growled in a strained voice. Gruff fingers keeping you effectively anchored to his groin, gushing away into your resistless, subdued pussy. 

Both hands dutifully keeping you trembling hips up and ready, even after all strength had been drained and hanged limp, only secured by his greedy grasp.

“Sweet, defenseless (Y/N)…” He snarled into your neck leaning over you and clamping a hand down over your shoulder to adjust his angle just the slightest bit. “P-Precious girl...so eager to take her best friend’s cock…–” 

Dragging you with him, lifted your leg, anchoring his foot against the edge of the mattress and found his leverage to pound deeper, groaning throatily, Megumi continued to slap his loaded heavy balls against your over-used pussy, covered and dripping in their combined fluids, plump and ready with a fresh load cooked especially for his little darling.

“–Foolish (Y/N) … foolish enough to accept to have a sleepover with me… just to get railed against my bed” he licked his lips. “Do you think they are listening?” Megumi wondered and glance down at you to find you numb from the blast of pleasure. 

Your moans were those of a subjugated and defeated animal. You had been conquered by the implacable Zenin heir who stubbornly refused to give up an inch of his new territory. Thrust after thrust continued his crusade. Each one more deliciously accurate, pulling him closer to the blinding sensation of release. 

“I know they are listening…” he sounded amused and soon a quiet long, raspy moan filled the room. “I hope they are listening… paying special attention at how I fill you up so good. Fuck! I’m even putting a couple of my pups inside you tonight, baby.”

Megumi began to feel his frame grow tense; this angle was insanely perfect to him. You at his mercy, unable to deny him, incapable of dodge or hide from his grasp. Gave free rein to his corrupt essence to defile you. Megumi was taking what was rightfully his. That thought bloated his arousal, clouding what little self-restrain he had left and pistoned his narrow hips like a feral rabbit.

You, being merciless nailed to his mattress could barely breath, much less emit any coherent noise apart from low mewls of despair and the attempt of his name in your angelical, overused vocal cords. But it was more than enough to guide the man on top of you straight into his blissful reward. 

“If you fucking respect me” he warned feeling himself close, eyes rolled to the back of his head and balls tighten almost painfully. “Don’t you ever look at them again! You are MINE!”

Head pulled back, feverish cheeks and mouth hanging slightly open before a deep, long grunt echoed through the walls whilst white thick ribbons of cum washed the inside of your convulsing walls while milking every last drop out of him. 

“F-FUUUUCK!~”

A mind-blowing orgasm kidnapped all his senses, melting away what strength he had left, and the intensity of the act shook him awake with a startled gasp. 

Megumi opened his heavy lids to find himself alone in the futon right next to his bed where you still were soundly sleeping. He was a sweaty mess, soiled and dripping from his awfully vast load now painting the inside of his pants, and shame abruptly and frustratingly began to creep into his injured pride. 

“Shit! Shit!...Shit!“ he blasted quietly in anger. Another fucking dream–…he reprimanded internally while massaging the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm his erratic heartbeat. 

Am I fucking fifteen again!? 

Slowly straightening he verified that you were effectively deep sleep before sigh in relieve. 

His shirt was drenched in sweat and his cheeks were red and foggy, pants awkwardly sticking to his hot skin reminding him his cold stain of disgrace. Megumi passed a hand through his disheveled hair unsticking wet strands from his forehead and sat up in his futon getting rid of the asphyxiating covers. 

This dream was way more intense and vivid than the last ones…is this my life now? To fantasize about you like a lame pathetic loser. 

Angrily huffing, lazily hauled his shirt off and drop the heavy fabric producing a wet thud while hitting the floor, immediately feeling better when the cold air hit his warm skin. He needed to take a bath and wash his pants, personally. It was mortifying enough to cum like a teenager in private, for someone else to find out too… and he needed to do all of this before you wake up.

A knock on the door, startle him out of his obsessing mind which busy itself in repeating the dream in an insistent loop and in a compose voice replied. 

“Who is it?” 

Megumi waited and the stain in his pants grew more noticeable by the minute making him feel more anxious.

“It’s Dad, open up.”

Dammit! Dammit!... Not him, not right now.

COMING SOON PART 8....

⭕️ NSFW ARTWORK OF THIS STORY

[nevadancitizen]

-> PROLOGUE: THE OLD SOUL OF AMERICA

synopsis: you meet with a mysterious woman on an old californian dock.

word count: ~850

ships: Arthur Morgan/modern!Reader, Van der Linde Gang & Reader

notes: inspired by @heart-of-gold-outlaw !! go read their modern reader fic i really like it. also we'll be getting into the actual time travel stuff after this teaser lololol :3

THE OLD SOUL OF AMERICA MASTERLIST

It’s a bracing, misty evening – supposed to be spring, but doesn’t feel like it. The waves are choppy and the gulls are huddled on the pylons with their beaks tucked under their wings, their feathers ruffling in the cold wind. 

Three hulking great ships, all freighters, are tied up on the beat-up dock. This isn’t one of those fashionable wharfs with dockworker unions or passenger liners – no pretty girls on their balconies, clinking champagne flutes to celebrate the start of the cruise. Just a couple of red-faced salts in pea jackets tramping by, trailing cigarette smoke, boots crunching on dried-up gull shit.

They spare you glances as they pass by, surely wondering what you were doing here in the early hours of the morning. Were you waiting for someone to get off work? Were you waiting for a drug deal? Or were you just admiring the way the waves spray water onto the dock?

(In reality, it was none of those. You’re waiting on something much worse.)

A woman, sleek and modern in style and rugged and worn in looks, approaches you. She has a quiet intensity about her — something about the way she squints against the ocean spray mixed with the permanent-looking scowl on her face. 

She tilts her head toward you, and you nod. You walk towards her and meet her halfway, leaning in close on her insistence. 

“You’re the one in need?” She asks softly. You just barely hear her over the waves crashing against the dock.

“Yes, ma’am,” you say, just as soft. “It’s my sister’s daughter. My eleven-year-old niece. She’s… she’s in a really bad way.”

“What does she need?” The woman asks. 

“A pancreas,” you say. “She’s got acute recurrent pancreatitis. There aren’t a lot of affordable child-sized organs lying around. God knows I’ve turned not just California, but the entire Mojave upside-down trying to find one. I’ve called hospitals in Arizona, Nevada, even New Mexico. I – I’m not asking you to kill a child! I just… I need the money for the operation. It’ll put her on the waiting list, and… once we show the hospital we have the money, I’m sure she’ll be okay. Somehow.”

The woman narrows her eyes. “Why don’t you just take out a loan? Or take on debt?”

“I can’t,” you say. “None of us can. I foreclosed on my last house. My sister has thousands of dollars in credit card debt, counting all the interest. Please, just trust me when I say I need this money. I don’t think anyone has nearly half a million dollars in their junk drawer. If I did, why would I be here, asking you for it?”

The woman looks you over and tucks her jacket closer around her. The outline of a gun at her hip becomes glaringly obvious – she wants you to notice it.

“Ma’am, I’m begging you.” You clasp your hands together as tight as you can. “I come from a family of deadbeats and addicts. I was an addict myself, and I quit just to save money for her operation, but it’s just not enough. I need this money. I won’t misappropriate these funds – won’t use them to pay off other debts, won’t use them for drugs. Just… please, miss.”

The woman holds up her hand. “Stop groveling.”

What the fuck else am I supposed to do?! You shout in your head. I need money, and you’ve got the money! My niece is going to fucking die if I don’t get it!

Instead, you just nod politely and put your hands behind your back. “Yes, ma’am. My apologies. I’m sure you can understand my desperation.”

“Uh-huh,” the woman hums. “I can get you the money. Just give me your banking details and I can wire it to you.” 

You pull out a pre-prepared index card with your bank information written down. The woman checks that it has your full name, address, account number, and routing number before speaking again.

“Do you have life insurance?” She asks, as if offhandedly.

“Uh, yes?” You say, unsure. “It won’t come out to a lot, so I couldn’t have an “accident” at work. Maybe just under 200,000 dollars? Nowhere near enough to cover her operation.”

The woman hums and tucks the card into her pocket. “I’ll get you the money.”

“Thank you so, so much,” you say. “You have no idea what this means to me – no idea what you’ve done for me and my family.”

“I have some idea.” The woman’s hand lingers at her waist. It takes you a few seconds too long to notice that –

A loud sound. A raging pain. The bullet hit something vital, but doesn’t grant you the mercy of dying in that instant. 

You stagger back, holding yourself. “What…”

“You’re dumber than you look,” the woman says, her voice fading in and out. “I’m just helping your family.”

You inhale shakily and take a step back. There’s a sense of falling, and something cold surrounds you, but you can’t make out much of anything in this condition. 

The last thing you think before the black takes you? It’s May. Who the fuck gets shot in May?

[wtfdemother]

Early Hours In The Morn’

CW: Day 4 of Fluff…vember? ☃️🤝 ITS TIIIIIME lazy, lazy Monday morning with your favourite big boy, pure fluff, basically just König cockwarming you before falling back asleep, sleepy boy… NSFW

Your stir in your sleep, a blazing warmth surrounds you whole. You’re feeling content, you feel safe, could even go as far as to say you were literally anchored. To what, one might ask. If you glanced down to the hairy pythons your partner called arms wrapped tight around your stomach, you might get an idea.

It’s only the fourth of November and König’s already put up Christmas lights on the front porch, the rooftops where he totally didn’t sneak you up for a couple beers, very irresponsible and some places around the house. You couldn’t deny it brought some form of coziness to the house, a pop of colour, even if you missed Halloween already.

The lights outside flashed every now and again, casting a variety of colours onto fresh, glittery snow. You shift under the covers, lidded eyes trail up the plum coloured curtains to the colourful lights outside your window. The sun’s barely peeking through, casting a soft blue hue to the environment. König unfurls his arms around your waist for a moment as you stretched past your head, only to wrap them around again, pulling you flush against his chest. He kisses the nape of your neck, you shiver as you feel unshaven stubble brush against your sensitive skin, his breath hot and unsteady. “Schatzi… need you…” he says, grinding against your backside ever so gently.

He begins bribing coaxing you into slipping your pyjama bottoms off, peppering slow, open-mouthed kisses under your ear, making his way down your body. Another shiver, a deep rumble emits from his chest, his laugh coated with lingering sleep. You could feel him inhale against your neck, he stirs. “Hier dachte ich, du schläfst.”

You grumble something, scooting away. At least, you tried to. He pulls you back in, his laugh hot and breathy. “Mein liebling, don’t go away from me. I need you…” he kisses your skin, each one filled with as much devotion as a prayer. “Bitte… ich brauche dich, mein Herz.” König pulls his cock free, nestling himself between your plush thighs, already at half mast. He palms your asscheek, giving it a good squeeze before sliding his way down your thigh, lifting your leg up for better access. He doesn’t wait for your reply, taking your pliant cooperation as compliance. Just to double check, he props himself on one elbow before gazing down at your seemingly sleeping figure. “You’re not actually asleep, are you?” He asks, a hint of worry etched on his face.

“I’m trying to…” you mumble, rubbing an eye. “Might sleep better with something warm inside.” He chuckles like a giddy kid on Christmas, giving your cheek a little kiss before sliding his cock inside you, your previous exploits from last night helping with the stretch. He groans into your ear, thrusting shallow inside you. You let your head fall back in bliss, mouth slightly parted as he fills you completely. “Mein liebling… du fühlst sehr gut,” he strains, trying not to rock his hips anymore than he has to. You muffle a mewl into your pillow, feeling the tip of his leaky dick nudge against the spongy walls of your pussy. His calloused fingers flex, resisting the urge to squeeze at the pudge of your hips to an uncomfortable degree, so he settles on biting down on your neck. You yelp, he silences you by lapping at the bite mark, muttering soft praise and mixing degrading things in his mother tongue, “Ich werde diese Muschi füllen, meine kleiner schlampe. So oft... wie nötig.”

You couldn’t understand a word even if you tried, your mind reduced to mush, thoughts too blurry to concentrate on anything else but your partner’s warmth. You feel full, content, happy. He knows this, he knows you, König leans down to press a kiss on the corner of your mouth and you grin. Azure eyes meet your hazy gaze, “I love you.” He brushes a strand of hair out of the way, kissing you proper this time. “Und ich liebe dich, meine Seele. Now,” he swallows a lump in his throat, shifting slightly whilst still inside. The bed creaks under the weight, bedsheets rustle as he pulls you down on him. “Schlaf, meine Liebe, schlaf.” You let his incoherent mumbles lull you into a fitful sleep.

With a leg swung lazily over you, and his cock nestled in the warmth of your pussy, König soon falls into a deep sleep that morning. Steady breaths fan over your neck, he always drooled a little whenever he slept so soundly in your presence. You couldn’t fault him, however, you were just glad this battered soldier finally had a sense of peace in your embrace.

[justanamesstuff]

Take my breath away - Matty Healy x f!reader

A/N: Really nervous about everything today!! I hope you guys like it! Let me know :)) This fic is based on this request, and works as another part for this fic i've posted (now that he's talking about reparations...) 🤭♥

Warnings: +18 MINORS DNI (please stay away), angst, jealousy, smut, fluff, typos.

Word count: 4.1 k

Blog Masterlist

At home

“How do I look?” Y/n came into the shared room of their house, and asked him. 

Matty was fighting with his tie around his neck, when his girlfriend came in. He had been staring at his reflection for a few minutes, trying to get the knot right. When his eyes fell on her, the air got stucked inside his throat. 

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, under Y/n’s attentive sight. She chewed on her lower lip waiting for him to say something, one word at least. If he didn’t like the dress, she would probably cry because her closet wasn’t full of options for Charli XCX’s massive birthday party. Y/n was convinced that the one she was sporting was the only good option.

Matty’s eyes travelled from Y/n’s hair do –messy and simple, she spent almost one hour making it look like it took five minutes and not that long–; make-up helping to show her factions perfectly, the dress straps assist his sight trail down towards her chest being adorned with a lacy pattern mixed with an almost transparent type of fabric. The right side of the dress opened from the middle of her thigh, ending closer to the floor. Her private parts hiding from prying eyes. Matty’s followed the route from her hips, down her legs, until his eyes fell upon her feet styled by high heels. Matty felt like a teenager, feeling a wave of heat around his neck and a painful need between his legs.

“Do you hate it?” she asked, snapping him from his daydreaming.

“Hate it?” his voice struggled to came out from his dry throat. Matty tried to cleanse it, detaching his hands from his tie. “Hate it?” the singer repeated once more, feeling his dick twitch inside his boxers. 

Y/n tried to smooth her dress even though it was perfectly steamed, “You haven’t answered my question.” she didn’t dare to look at him.

Matty felt bad seeing her look so unsure of her beauty when all he wanted to do is skip the party and spent the night in bed worshipping her body and her.

He moved a few steps closer, moving slowly to not startle her. “My love…” Matty started slowly. “You always, but specially tonight…” he breathed in, the sound making Y/n look into his eyes. “You look breathtaking.” Matty held the sides of her face, keeping Y/n from looking away.

“Really?”

“Are you kidding, Y/n?” Matty moved her head a little, trying to wake her to acknowledge her appearance. Y/n brushed her shoulders. “Baby, I- I don’t know where to start.” Matty chuckled and she followed, copying him. “This dress is going to kill me.” 

“You look pretty handsome yourself, Healy.” Y/n tried to divert the attention, but her boyfriend wasn’t having it.

“What if I text George saying I’m sick or something…and we spend the night here…” Matty let his hands moved down her neck, slowly, making Y/n shiver by his hot touch. 

“No, we can’t do that.” Y/n threw her head back a little, giving Matty space to lean forward to kiss the exposed skin. 

“Why?” he asked, innocently, as if he wasn’t proposing skipping one of the most iconic and important parties of the year. 

Y/n tried to focus on the words she wanted to say, but his hands settled on her hips for a moment, meanwhile his lips attacked her neck, moaning when her perfume reached his nose. Her knees almost failing her.

“Because…” she pronounced. “It’s Charli’s birthday.” Y/n tried to push him away by his shoulders, even though she didn’t really want to stop him. 

He didn’t answer right away, his attention entirely on her body reacting to his touch. Matty felt the fabric under his digits when he trailed up to his favourite part of his girlfriend's body. His veins pumping with ecstasy when her nipples hardened, finally getting his attention. Y/n pushed, unconsciously, her chest further into his palms. 

“I don’t care…” Matty’s teeth brushed hard upwards against the soft skin of Y/n neck. “I don’t care if it’s the King’s birthday, and we’re invited.” he said breathless. “If I want my girl, if I need my girl-” that was when she felt him, heavy, against her belly. “Nothing more matters.” Y/n moaned, closing her eyes, feeling his soft lips attack her sweet spot under her jaw. 

Matty squeezed her right boob, trying to get rid of the dress strap at the other side. Both action brought Y/n back to reality. “No, Matty.” she said, and he stopped instantly. 

“Please.” he begged without moving further, just keeping his hands still.

“Later.” 

Matty groaned when Y/n moved backwards, far from him. She moved the strap back in place. 

“You’re killing me, baby.” Matty tried to sort himself inside his pants so his hard on wasn’t visible.

“‘m not.” she fought back, feeling her thong damp while she tried to get to the door.

Matty contained a moaned, looking her move her hips from side to side. The night was going to be long.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Charli’s birthday party

Matty gripped his glass of whiskey, meanwhile Ross was talking his ear off even though he wasn’t paying attention. His eyes were upon a pair at the other side of the room. 

Ross kept talking about his nephew and penguins, or something similar –Matty couldn’t care less–, when Matty almost let go of his cup. 

“Wow!” Ross interfered, placing his hand under in. “Watcha doin’, mate.” 

“What?” Matty spat.

Ross stared at his face for a second. Matty was frowning hard. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” it was the second time he asked the singer about it. They were at a party, they were supposed to have fun, although Matty wasn’t enjoying the evening. 

“‘m fine, Ross. Perfectly fine about a twat flirting with my girlfriend…touching her.” Matty drank the rest of his drink in one go, groaning when the liquid stung his throat.

“Edward?” Ross asked, looking between Matty and Y/n deep into conversation with the man in front of her. 

“Don’t give a fuck about his name.” 

“Alright, mate.” Ross didn’t move a muscle, knowing how Matty was, specially after a few drinks. “Isn’t he Y/n’s coworker or something?” 

“He’s one of her best friend’s brother, who has been in love with her for ages…she knows that. I can’t believe she’s letting him-”

“She’s not letting him anything, Matty. They’re talking.” Ross defended her. 

“He’s been touching her arms every two minutes.” Matty protested like a toddler.

“If it’s bothering you so much, why are you still here?” 

Matty looked at his friend, opening his mouth, “I-” he muttered, bringing a big smile to Ross’s face. “Fuck it.” Matty said. 

His feet conducted him fast to the corner of the big venue Charli chose for her party. Y/n’s laughter reached his ears and his stomach flipped, knowing he wasn’t the one entertaining her. 

Y/n got distracted from Edwards explanation, when a strong arm sneaked around her waist and pushing her back to came in contact with a hard chest. She recognized him by his cologned, rounding her. Y/n glanced down to his hand, possessively resting on her belly. She noticed he took off his blazer and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, showing the tattoos adoring his skin. 

She turned around inside his arms, letting her hands touch his chest. “Hi, handsome.” she greeted him, oblivious of Matty’s mood. “I missed you.”

“‘m sure.” he said, cryptic. 

Matty realized her eyes were glossy due to the alcohol the dumbass was providing her. On the other hand, Y/n acknowledge the frown on his forehead and how he pressed his lips close. Y/n crocked an eyebrow at him, silently asking.

“Come with me.” he commanded, not giving attention to the idiot standing behind them, expecting for Y/n to return to their previous conversation. Matty wasn’t going to allow him to steal her from him one more minute. 

Y/n’s boyfriend didn’t wait for her reply, taking her hand on his and dragging her around the sea of people. She tried to look back to Edward to gift him an apologetic wave, but Matty was moving fast, which made her inevitably look forward. 

The grip of his hand was hard, even though it wasn’t hurting her. The duality of her man send a shiver directly into her core. Y/n jumped forward, trying to get closer to Matty. The only response from him was to give her a side glance when she hugged his big, muscular, arm as if her life depended on it. His attention drifting away from her face didn’t hurt her feeling, the opposite in fact. Y/n wanted to know what got him so worked up, she wanted to be the centre of his attention as she was back home after they left the safety of their house.

—----------------------------------------------

After trying a few doors down the long hallway –all of them locked– Matty was starting to get hopeless. In any moment, he let go of her hand, dragging Y/n with him. His breathing was rapidly, and his girlfriend noticed the sweat starting to damp his shirt. An urge to lick it directly from the skin of his neck took over Y/n’s senses.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Matty tried another handle, same story. 

“Matty, what’s going on?” 

He turned around, his eyes falling on hers. His nostrils were three time bigger than usual, and his chest was moving up and down with a rhythm that entranced Y/n.

“Did you have fun with your little friend?” Matty snapped at her.

Y/n felt a little intimidated by him talking down at her, but her cunt thought otherwise. It wasn’t usual for him to bring this territorial side of him, usually it was a teasing remark and his proud self talking about another man wanting to have her, but he was all his. Rarely Matty let his possessive self took over. Y/n couldn’t lie, she was excited. 

She decided to play it dumb, “What are you talking about?” her Bambi eyes connecting with his. 

Y/n tried to touch him, even though Matty took a grasp of her wrist and, after one look to make sure no one was close, he pushed her towards the closest wall, pressing his body to hers. 

“No with me, sweetheart. You can act all innocent with the asshole out there, but…I know you, baby girl.” he whispered, without taking his eyes from hers.

“I wasn’t-”

“Oh, no…you weren’t doing anything. You didn’t stop him, either.” Matty pushed his chest an inch closer, feeling her nipples hard like diamonds through the fabric of his shirt and the lace on top of her perfect tits. “He was touching you…” Matty copied Edward’s actions, touching down the skin of her arms –still pinned to the wall at each side of her head–; while his nose brushed against hers and his lips lingered above Y/n’s lips, feeling his breading fanning over them.

“Matty.” Y/n breathed out, trying to push her body off the wall, even though she had little space between it and Matty’s chest. 

Matty pushed once more, “He was touching you, Y/n. And you didn’t stop him.” he said directly into her ear. 

The warmth he was irradiating was driving her senses insane. The mix of it with his cologne and the faint smell of his favourite brand of cigarettes wasn’t helping to ease her feeling either.

“Did you enjoy it?” Matty asked. Y/n opened her eyes again, trying to find his. 

“What?” 

“Did you enjoy him touching you?” he repeated through clenched teeth, searching any sign inside her delated pupils. 

“No, Matty- No, of course not.” Y/n pushed her arms away from his embrace, going to round his neck, bringing him impossibly closer. “You’re the only one I want, baby.”

“Am I? Because you looked really happy laughing with your secret admirer.” his voice dripping with poison.

“Are you jealous of him, Healy?” Y/n teased him to riled him up a little more, her hands sneaking around the back of his head, tugging on his curls. Matty moaned directly into her mouth, and Y/n never felt prouder of herself. “I am yours, Matty.” she declared, moving the left strap of her dress down until he could see her nipple. Matty’s mouth watering to the sight, and his mind focusing on her, nothing more.

“Fuck.” Matty muttered, resting his open palm on her left breast. “All mine?”

“Mhm, all.” Y/n threw her head back, trying to stay quiet, feeling his rough palm making circles on top of her skin. 

A loud sound, louder than the music making the walls around the venue vibrate, startled them. Matty quickly pushed her clothes all the way back up before someone could see his girlfriend just a tad naked. 

Charli showed up at the end of the hall. She cackled when she stopped a few meters away from them. 

“Well, well, well…hello guys, happy to see you’re enjoying my birthday party.” Charli was visibly drunk, almost tripping over her own feet. 

Y/n went to help her, “Okay, you need water, birthday girl.”

Matty groaned, realizing he wouldn’t be able to have his girlfriend just for himself at the moment. Y/n mimed a “sorry, later” walking far from him. The singer wasn’t going to stand alone, so he trailed down behind them.

“Poor, Matty…he wanted to get some.” Charli laughed about her words alone.

Y/n giggled, saying, “Let’s find G.”

“Yes! Please.” 

*********************

Y/n ended up loosing Matty. It was getting really late, and the craving wasn’t going away. After leaving Charli secured by G’s side, she tried to look after her man. Seeing what time it was, just a few groups lingered around the place, making it easier for Y/n to search. 

Matty was indeed a few meters far from her, talking with Adam, Carly, Ross, and a blond girl. Her heart dropped to her belly when she saw her twist her hair, looking at her boyfriend with suggestive eyes, biting her lip. ‘Oh, no’, Y/n feeling her blood boil. 

“Baby.” she said, standing between the girl and her man. 

“Hello, I’ve lost you.” Matty rounded her body, kissing the top of her head. The solo act made Y/n felt complete again.

“I’m ready to go home.” 

Matty understood every meaning behind her simple words. He was ready too.

“Perfect. Let’s go.”

After a quick goodbye to the group, not acknowledging the girl looking at them stunned, Y/n pulled Matty by his hand out of the venue. She was moving fast like never before.

“Hey, hey.” Matty pulled back, stopping. 

Y/n turned around to look at him with a puzzled look. “What?”

“Baby…” Matty chuckled.

“I want to get home.” Y/n accentuated every syllable.

“I know, I do too. What’s going on up here?” Matty tapped slowly on her forehead, looking at Y/n feeling his heart full.

“You, fucking me.” Matty took a sharp breath, trying to control himself. He knew her better than anyone. 

“Y/n.” he said in a warning tone.

“Who was the bitch?”

“Are you jealous, Y/l/n?” he asked, mimicking her question about Edward. 

“Whatever.” 

Y/n let go of his hand, making him feel cold all of a sudden. She started walking away, typing into the screen of her phone to get a car that could drive them home. Matty trotted to reach her. 

“My love.” he whispered into the back of her neck. Y/n wanted to prevent the quivering taking over her limbs, although it was hard to stop it when Matty was the cause of it. “He was Ross’s date.”

“Well, she was trying to fuck you. Ross deserves better.” he snorted, loving this side of her.

“I like it when you get territorial over me.” he left a chaste kiss on her shoulder, watching a car approach them.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

Home sweet home

During all the way home, Matty didn’t try anything. Y/n moved on the seat beside Matty, feeling his hot hand resting on her knee, but doing nothing she wanted him to actually do. She was aware he noticed her little sounds protesting, trying to gain his attention, although Matty maintained the composure until the front door closed down with a big sound.

He was all over her when her feet were out of the high heels, the insufferable dress laughing at his eagerness. Without a word, Matty took Y/n by her hips, moving her backwards until her back was against the wall of the corridor. 

His eyes following hers glanced down at his lips, wetting hers in anticipation. 

“What do you want, princess?” his voice low and raspy, sending a ray of pleasure down towards her pulsing clit. Matty’s hands keeping her still.

“You.”

“What about me?” Y/n whined as a protest, moving her head from side to side. “Come on, you can do words.” 

“Please.”

“Tell me what you want, baby.” Matty placed his right hand on her neck, pressing slightly to distract her even more. 

“Touch me.”

“I’m touching you.” 

“Jerk.”

Matty tightened his grip around her neck, “None of that.” Y/n glanced at his orbs, with hers tearful by frustration.

“Play with my tits, Matty.”

“Anything more?”

“Touch me down there, fuck me…please, anything…I just need you.” Y/n panted and cried out, chocking with her saliva, being unable to sound collected as she wanted. 

Matty took his hands far from her neck. Without waiting a second, he pushed the dress until the upper half pooled around her hips. He looked up, lowering his face to be in front of her chest. He found her eyes when his mouth opened and then closed down around her right nipple. Y/n felt a wave of relief, of pleasure taking over her. After so many hours waiting for him, his mouth on her tits was going to make her explode in her place. Her left hand went directly to the back of his head, pushing it further into her chest. 

“More, please.” 

Her boyfriend let her nipple go with a wet sound, going to give attention to the other. His eyes closing by the pleasure of finally having his girlfriend bare before him. His lips trailed down, leaving a wet trace all around her tit, meanwhile he stopped from time to time to nibble on the soft skin. 

Matty moved a little back, taking her boobs between his big hands, squeezing them together. He was obsessed with her boobs, always and forever. 

Y/n pushed her thighs together, giving some type of attention to her clit. “Baby.” she whimpered, tugging on his curls, making Matty moaned without caring since they were home. “Oh, yes…Matty-”

He was still too entranced about her tits to listened anything else. Matty stared at them, wetting his digits, so he could draw circles around her sensible nipples. His simple act was meet by a loud moan from Y/n, feeling her insides burn. 

“You’re so hot, my love.” Matty buried his face in her boobs, not escaping the thought of his dick between them. His groaning and his compliment made Y/n arch her back with pleasure.

“And you’re so good at this.”

“Tell me what you need.” Matty said before flattening his tongue, passing it through her nipples repeatedly. 

“I need to get out of this dress.” Y/n tried to push it down her hips, Matty helped her. 

Matty took a minute to admire his girlfriend, standing at the entrance of their shared house almost naked, with the thong covering almost nothing. 

“Up. Now.” Matty wasn’t playing any more, he needed to taste her as soon as possible.

He waited until he heard Y/n entering their room and proceed to follow her. Matty skipped a couple of steps, jumping upstairs. 

When he opened the door, Y/n was resting in all her glory in the middle of their bed; all naked, finally. Matty touched his hard dick through his trousers. 

“Such a good girl you are.” he stated.

The singer moved to the feet of the bed, taking off his shirt slowly at the same time his eyes found hers. She was waiting for him, ready to welcome the singer. Matty undid the belt and opened his zip slowly. 

“Matty.”

“Quiet, dove.”

He pushed his trousers all the way down, leaving them there without caring. Matty was still wearing his boxers when he lingered above Y/n body. His fingers founding her lower lip.

“Open.” so she did. 

Matty let two of his digits inside her mouth. Y/n made a big show about sucking his digits, enjoying how his pupils grew a side due to lust. 

“Enough.” he said, taking them out. 

The tip of his fingers traced all the way down towards where she needed him most, making a stop to touch her breasts again. Instinctively, Y/n opened her legs for him when his hand pressed her hip down towards the mattress. 

Matty lowered himself enough to be face to face with her pussy. The sight in front of him made his dick twitch, and his mouth watered. He left a few kissing on the soft skin of her thigh. “Were you this wet all night?” Y/n nodded, unable to talk when his mouth was so close and so far away. “Words, Y/n.” he bit down on her skin hard. 

“Yes!” she moaned.

“Poor thing.” Matty let his mouth fell on her slit without more interactions. 

She was his favourite flavour. He sucked slightly on her clit, making her yelp and push her hips slightly up, so Matty secured her legs with his arms around them, keeping her open before him. 

Y/n was feeling faster the knot on the lower part of her belly. Matty wasn’t having mercy with her, sucking on her clit or letting his tongue penetrate her. After an entire night, hours without end, for him to touch her and find release once and for all, Y/n played at the precipice of her high. 

“Oh, fuck! I’m-”

Matty pushed back before she could end her sentence, and Y/n protested in the absence of his mouth. His stubble shinning with her juices streaming down his chin. 

He smiled at her, wicked, “Sorry, were you about to cum, baby girl?” 

“Matty!” 

Y/n tried to push him down with her hands on top of his head, although Matty was sterned about it, “Keep your hands up, Y/n.” 

“Please, let me cum.” her mind was foggy, her eyes were closing down on their own. Y/n felt her body move without being able to help it, control was beyond her now.

“Beg for it.” Matty let his middle finger circle around her clit. 

“Please.”

“I can’t hear you.”

Y/n screamed louder, “Please, Matty!!” 

“So beautiful when you beg for me.” he let two digits inside her sweet cunt, falling further until his mouth was sucking again on her throbbing clit.

Y/n felt a tingling sensation starting on her feet and hands, moving closer and closer to the middle of herself. Matty was setting a delicious tempo, driving her even more insane. Y/n’s blood pumping all around her body, at the same time she sensed her hips move, trying to match Matty’s mouth. The feeling crept all the way towards her belly, sending her finally into a trance that erupted all around her, making her see all black and stars. 

Y/n’s moans were music to his ears. Matty helped her surf her high, trusting his fingers inside her while his eyes focused on her face contract with pleasure. The pleasure he was imparting on her. 

Once she was down again, he moved to be chest to chest with her again. He brushed her wet hair back, Y/n looked at him in awe.

“Hey.” he whispered.

“Hello.”

“You alright?”

Y/n blushed a little, “more than that.”

Matty let their lips connect on a sweet kiss, still touching the side of her face to calm her down. 

“I’ll go and find a cloth to clean you up, okay?” Matty moved backwards. 

“No.” she protested. 

“Yes, baby.”

“But you…” Y/n looked down to his boxers.

“I can wait for tomorrow.”

“I want-”

Matty interrupted her, “I’m okay, I promise.”

“Matty.” Y/n insisted.

He came closer, reassuring her, “All I care is for you to be satisfied…it’s getting late, and I’ve tired you down. We have all tomorrow to continue, okay?” he gripped her neck, talking slowly to not overwhelmed her.

“I’m not happy about it, but okay. I love you.” she whispered.

“I love you so much, baby.”

Matty left a few more kisses around her face and neck, detaching himself from her body to walk out of the room. 

To be continue...

[jj-5656]

Lovesick With; James Potter

A/N: LISTEN, I am just as shocked as you are. Suddenly I’m all productive, it’s astonishing. This is technically a third part to a series, this last part in thanks to @cookielovesbook-akie. Though its again, not technically necessary you read part one and part two. But it does clear up some backstory and context in this one, if you’re interested. Thank you for all the likes and reblogs, it seriously encourages me so much. Enjoy!! <3

Summary: The one with the infirmary visit, and Remus throws hands.

TW: Mentions of injuries, brief description of anxiety/panic attack a little angst for flavor ;)

        Ringing, there’s an incessant, repeated ringing of white noise droning in your mind. All your other senses succumbing to it’s vibrations. There’s chaos, pure panic, from the lot of your peers in the Gryffindor tower of the quidditch audience. It’s pouring, you remember James lending you one of his favorite windbreakers earlier that day. The sleek burgundy material with gold accents has kept you warm a majority of the match. 

You feel freezing now, as if all the blood has been leeched from your body. There’s a cold hand clutching yours, your eyes trail it’s forearm to recognize it’s Remus. Tugging you through the murmuring crowd and to the stairs as fast as his feet will let him. Sirius leads, shoving and pushing with half-assed apologies as he expertly weaves through the bodies. 

You remember seeing him fall, arms flailing in the air before he hit the ground. “What the hell happened, will he be alright?” Sirius once again clears a path through a group of officials, snapping you out of your daze. You’re able to get to the gurney they’re currently carrying James on, tears brimming in your eyes at the sight of him. He’s out cold, face distorted with fresh cuts and developing bruises as they lift him onto the carrier. 

“That’s for Noah, Potter!” Damon Tilsy, the infamous Slytherin beater, the one who shoved your boyfriend off his broom, shouts as his teammates hold him back. You turn on your heel, not even considering the consequences before you throw a punch straight to his nose. Something cracks, you’re not sure if it’s his face or your knuckles, but the boy groans in pain and suddenly lunges toward you. It’s a haze of commotion, Sirius ripping you backward as Remus gets in front of you. In an uncharacteristic fit of rage, he shoves the green-clad boy to the ground, about to continue before a couple of Gryffindor players separate everyone. Sirius, shockingly the most level-headed out of the lot of you, grabs you both by the back of your collars, guiding you toward wherever they’re taking James. You leave a full on brawl behind you, a mix of red and green robed students in an all-out frenzy as professors rush onto the field to break it up. 

 Remus has a hand on the small of your back, guiding you through the corridors toward the infirmary. In your daze, you pull on the sleeves of Sirius’ jacket, grabbing his attention despite his eyes never having left his dear friend’s frame. 

“The infirmary, Pads. He’ll be terrified.” Sirius’ frown somehow deepens, a kind hand squeezing your shoulder. 

“I don’t think we have a choice, love.” Is all he manages, moisture brimming in his brown eyes. 

********

“Y/n, it’s been hours, you need to go to the hall and get some food. Maybe some rest, too? We can keep an eye on him.” Remus taps your arm, snapping you out of your daydream. 

The three of you are sat beside Potter, still fast asleep. The only proof of livelihood in him is the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. You clutch his hand with the palm that isn’t throbbing, black and blue skin covering your right knuckles. 

“Or maybe let Poppy take a look at that hand, make sure nothing’s broken.” Sirius adds, tone soft and pleading. 

You shake your head, solemn and silent. “I’m fine.” 

Said nurse hurries into the room, raising her brows at the three of you as she reaches James, rising to your feet expectantly at her presence. 

“He’ll be all right,” she starts, tight-lipped smile as you all collapse back into your chairs. “Had a broken rib, and an obviously banged up face from that fall,” She notes, adjusting the bandages around the raven-haired boys chest with a pitiful expression. “But my concoction is doing just the trick to mend any other injuries, just needs a couple more days rest here. If you ask me,” She looks around, suddenly paranoid, “that Slytherin boy should be expelled.” 

“He won't be?” Remus questions, brows shooting up in disbelief. 

Poppy shakes her head, huffing a sigh as she fiddles with James’ IV. “The officials have deemed it misconduct, but not enough for expulsion. He’ll only sit the bench for the next three games. 

“You’re joking.” Sirius scoffs, practically fuming. “We’ve got to talk to Professor Dumbledore, they can’t possibly get away with this.” 

“Don’t forget James was barely disciplined for defending me.” You mutter, running your thumb over said boy’s jaw. Stomach turning at his handsome features riddled with contusions. 

“Or y/n’s right hook” Remus attempts to conceal his proud smirk when Poppy shoots the three of you a look. 

“Not like you didn’t join in.” You remark, offering an innocent smile to the displeased nurse. 

“No matter the consequences...Or lack thereof, you four should stay out of trouble from now on. If you have any hopes for Gryffindor winning the House Cup this year. As well as finishing your schooling here.” And with that, she’s out of the room, heels clicking the entire way. 

There’s a deep sigh from James, he attempts to shift atop the mattress, groaning in pain from the movement. You shush him, running a hand through his hair to soothe him. He grumbles again, and this time, you realize he’s trying to say something. Its unintelligible at first, Sirius shifts in his seat at the anticipation. 

“What’s that, Prongs?”

“Did...” James swallows, humming when a straw touches his lips, taking generous sips before continuing. “Did we win?” 

“Bloody hell, Prongs.” Sirius howls, relieved the injuries haven’t erased any of his conceit. 

“Mutual forfeit, rematch next week.” Remus hangs his head as he speaks, relieved smile on his lips. You're on him in seconds, securing your arms around his neck. The tears that have been threatening to spill throughout this entire conflict finally escaping you. 

“Easy there, Dove. Still sore.” You pull away instantly, taking his face in your hands to ensure you aren’t imagining any of this. He’s wiping the moisture from your eyes with a soft smile.

“Please don’t scare me like that ever again.” You whisper, kissing the tip of his nose because it’s pretty much the only place that won't hurt. 

“I missed you.” He beams, wincing when the action reopens the cut on his lip. He’s a little out of it, having slept so long and full of pain potions. You do your best not to be disturbed by his loopy demeanor.

“You were sleeping, James.” You giggle, amused with his groggy manner. He shakes his head, licking his lips for moisture. 

“Still, could hear you. You were so upset. Shouldn’t cry over me, Dove.” He brushes his knuckles over your cheeks, catching more tears. 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You grab his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm. 

“We’re gonna go get Poppy, sit tight.” The boys get up, taking one last longing look at their friend before each ruffling his hair and heading out. James frowns, blinking harshly and beginning to squint. 

“Glasses?” He pats around the bed, realizing he could only see you because of your proximity, the rest of the room completely blurred. You nod, reaching over him to grab them and place the recently mended pair on his head. He blinks again, adjusting to the change and surveying his surroundings. His breathing quickens as he looks around, coming to terms with being bed-ridden in the place he hates most. 

“James, it’s okay. You’re okay.” You attempt to calm him, placing your hands on his chest when he attempts to pull himself into a sitting position. The action sending a searing pain up his chest and down to his toes. 

“C-can’t,” he shakes his head profusely, beginning to gasp for breath. “Can’t breath.” He forces himself up, grabbing the headboard with another pained whine. Wheezing as he tugs on the IV needle taped to his arm. 

“Baby, stop that.” You clutch his wrist, heart beat rising as he towers over you. Because he’s a concoction of numbing and healing potions, he’s unaware of his own size and strength. Pushing at your shoulders so he can remove the horrifying wires attached to him. You stumble back, falling on your bottom with a small grunt. He’s stunned, crumpling to his knees and clutching your waist. Confusion and terror written all over his face. 

“Sorry, Dove. I’m so sorry, I didn’t-” He gasps for air, tears running down his face at the atrocity of it all. 

“James, look at me.” You’re stern, grabbing the sides of his face so he can only see you. “You’re having a panic attack, I need you to look at me. Just breathe, copy me.” You take a slow, steady breath. Holding it for just a second before releasing, nodding when he begins to follow. “That's it, just like me.” 

He swallows, lip quivering as his teary eyes search yours. “Did I hurt you?” You shake your head, astonished he’s even considering your well being when he’s an absolute mess of broken bones and bandages. 

“I’m absolutely fine, just keep taking those deep breaths. Don’t cry over me, James.” You repeat his words from before, chuckling when he bows his head in disagreement. You smirk, determined to take his mind off all that’s just transpired. “Guess you could say you’ve swept me off my feet, Potter.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re smiling.” You push a tuft of curls from his face, taking his wrist to place his palm over your chest. Letting him calm from it’s rhythm. He takes hold of your hand, face contorted in concern when he surveys your bruised knuckles. Running a shaky thumb over the discolored skin with a deep frown.

“He deserved it.” You defend under his accusatory gaze, pulling the sore appendage to your lap.

“I’m sure,” James can’t help but feel a twinge of pride at the sight of it, though he chastises you anyway. “But you’re much too pretty to be punching people, Dove. I believe that’s my job.”

“I can’t take all the blame. Remus got in on some of the fun, too.” His mouth opens to ask for more context, but you’re interrupted.

“Merlins beard!” The wide-eyed nurse startles the pair of you, rushing into the room with the remaining marauders on her heels. “What are you two doing?”

“Just getting a change in scenery.” You quip, having been the only one to find your comment humorous, James looking to you with an expression you can’t quite read. 

“Ridiculous, the lot of you.” She chides, motioning wildly in a silent order for Remus and Sirius to help James back onto the bed. He clutches his side, a sickening cry escaping his lips at the affliction. You clutch your stomach, nauseated by his pale, exhausted appearance. 

*******

“We know you’re allergic to pollen, so we thought these would suffice.” Marlene smiles sweetly, piling on the stuffed bears and candies to the chair at James’ bedside. He cracks a smile, rubbing at the bandage around his chest for the hundredth time tonight. After another nap, he’s finally up for some visitors. And after the entirety of the Gryffindor team flooded the infirmary, charming it so it’s decorated in a familiar red and gold to make their chaser a little more at home, the girls decide to pay a visit. 

“You’ve spoiled me, loves. Thank you.” He’s still tired, having forced appreciative commonalities all afternoon with you at his side. He’s thankful, but can’t help the overwhelming guilt that eats at him after the morning’s altercation. 

“Don’t mention it, we just want you feeling better.” Lilly studies James and then you, picking up on the slight tension. 

“Especially with the rematch next week.” Dorcas adds, yelping when Marlene smacks her arm in distaste. James only laughs, not offended by her blunt statement in the slightest. If anything, he needed the forthright reminder. 

“No worries, I’ll be back on the broom in no time.” Your brows furrow at his eagerness, tongue swiping over your teeth to bite back any quick remarks that threaten to spill out.

“We should let you rest, both of you.” Lilly announces, looking to you with just as much sternest as she does James, fully aware you haven’t slept since his injury. They say their goodbyes before heading out the door, greeting Poppy as she walks by. The devoted, noticeable worn out nurse wordlessly hands you an extra pillow and blanket. Knowing full well any attempts to get you to sleep in your own dorm are futile. 

You spread the woven blanket over your legs, settling in for the night when James looks over. “You don’t seriously think I’m letting you sleep on that chair while I get a bed, right?” He inquires, absolutely astonished. You only yawn in response, pulling the blanket up to your chin and surveying his injuries for what seems like the millionth time. No matter how much you look at him, seeing the abrasions, wraps, and wires never gets easier on your heart. 

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m broken.”

“James, you’re getting better, I know that. This has just been...A lot, for both of us.” He nods, pulling the sheets aside in a silent signal for you to lay beside him.

“I’ll hurt you, and the mattress is small enough as it is.” There are other beds in the infirmary, of course, but you’d rather not make any of the staff have to change yet another set of sheets purely for your comfort. 

“Either you get in this bed with me, or I take the chair.” It’s not a request, that’s clear in his tone. You sigh, too tired to argue any longer. Increasingly upset with the unspoken tension between you. It’s likely a mix of fatigue and distress, but it’s foreign nonetheless. Sure, you’ve had your bickering. But this seems to be your first real argument. And, ironically enough, you’re not even sure what it’s about. 

You climb onto the mattress, immediately comforted by his warmth. The day has bested the both of you, and sleep pulls at every one of your muscles. James obviously can't lay on his side, so the most comfortable position is underneath his arm so your head can rest on his chest. You’re careful to avoid the side of him farthest from you, as it’s the one with the mending rib. James releases a huge breath once you’re next to him, a sigh he seems to have been holding in all day. You’re both quiet, contemplative, heartbeats beginning to sync together in a beat that further begs sleep. 

“Why aren’t you upset with me?” He breaks, so soft you wouldn’t have heard him had you been so close. You sit up, one hand on the mattress and the other on his chest to support yourself. 

“What? Why on Earth would I be upset?” You’ve been so sure your boyfriend has been barely talking to you because of his own unspoken quarrel, not even considering he thought it to be vise-versa. 

“I hurt you.” A tear falls past his bruised cheek, one he’s quick to swipe away. Hazel eyes bloodshot with exhaustion and sadness. 

“James.” Is all you manage, voice cracking with your own build up of emotion as he gently pushes your doting hands away from him. 

“No, y/n. You’ve been nothing but patient, gentle, worried.” He swallows, not meeting your eyes as he goes on. 

“You didn’t mean t-”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“I wasn’t even hurt, James.” 

“But you could have been.” His eyes narrow, disgusted at the thought. “You were only trying to help but I just-I just panicked, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” He falters, not expecting your embrace when you wrap your arms around him. Hesitantly, he wraps an arm around your waist, immediately engulfed in comfort when it presses your body against his. “I hope I didn’t scare you.”

“Never. Please, just please don’t pull away from me like that. I thought you were angry with me.” You confess into his neck, meeting his eyes when he pulls you back by the waist. 

“Angry with you? Dove, first I’m overcome by some illness, and then no less than two weeks later I’m in the infirmary after the first quidditch match of the season. If anything, you should be angry with me.” He’s bewildered at your unwavering kindness, feeling utterly undeserving of a soul so sweet. It makes him want to cry even more. Though he doesn’t, for your sake.

“And what did I tell you when you got sick? That you never needed to earn my taking care of you.” You point a finger into the middle of his chest, stern in your reiteration. 

“That’s not exactly what you said.” He has the audacity to tease, releasing his first genuine laugh in days when you smack his arm. Despite your flushing skin, the bellowing sound is music to your ears. Finally, you see that spark ignite back into Potter. Thank Merlin, he’s still there. 

“Haven’t you put me through enough, now you’re teasing me?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. You’re terribly cute when you’re shy, I can’t help myself.” He squeezes your hips, hands running down to your thighs to soak in as much skin as you’ll let him have. Right then and there, in the middle of the empty infirmary, James Potter is completely sure he’s going to marry you someday. 

“What?” You squirm under his gaze, and he realizes he’s been staring.

“Nothing, just looking at you.” Is all he says, laughing again when you crumble into his chest. Utterly lovesick.

“Hey, where’d you go?” He pokes your sides, voice so sweet and soft you do your best not to melt even more. “I haven’t gotten to kiss you in ages, I’ve been deprived much too long.” Your cheeks burn from smiling so much, unable to rid yourself of the giddy demeanor when he presses his lips to yours, a chuckle escaping him as he presses smaller pecks to the corner of your mouth, along your jaw and past your neck until he reaches your collarbone. Nipping on the sensitive skin, and smirking when you gasp, hitting his arm again. 

“I can’t kiss you if you’re smiling,” he defends. Greedy hands slithering under your shirt to trace circles on the skin of your back. You press your forearms to his chest, allowing him to really kiss you this time. He chases when you pull away, still not satisfied. You shake your head, pressing one last peck to the corner of his mouth. 

“We need to sleep.” You order, ignoring his dramatic sigh as you relax into him for the final time. 

“I’ll just have to make up for lost time in my dreams then. You’re much more amenable there, anyway.” 

“James Potter-”

“Kidding, Dove. I prefer you much more, she’s a bit handsy anyway-” His teasing is muffled when you clasp a hand over his mouth, a gasp passing your lips when he nips your palm. Completely satisfied now that you’re properly flustered. 

“Goodnight.” You blink slow, engulfed in tantalizing warmth once he pulls the sheets over your shoulders. Ensuring your fully covered before he closes his own eyes. 

When he’s sure you’re sound asleep, James licks his lips. Whispering out into the darkness, because the words have been begging to leave him ever since your accidental confession those weeks ago. 

“I love you too.” 

[ohmyo]

Tipsy Hold Challenge

We were out at the bar with some friends and after a few drinks we came home. I went to the bathroom pretty soon after getting home and when I got out I was handed another beer. I was ready to keep the buzz going and not long after he decided to make us some cocktails.

After my beer and just as I was finishing my cocktail I started to squirm. I was definitely a little drunk now and didn’t realize until now I really needed to pee. I don’t know if the seal is real or not, but if it is I had already broken it when we got back from the bar.

He noticed I was squirming and asked if I needed to use the potty again. I didn’t want to get up since things were starting to get fuzzy and the couch was so comfy. I whined that I didn’t want to pee and he said Good because you don’t get to. You went already, now you’re going to hold it. You’ve only had two drinks since you peed last your brain is just tricking you. You’re going to be good and hold it for me right?

I squirmed so much more hearing him say that. but I nodded. He told me that I should go make is another drink and so I went hoping the urges would pass as he said, it had only been a couple of drinks.

When I got back he had put on the show we had been watching and I got comfy. By the end of my drink I was feeling pretty good and I didn’t even question where the water bottle my boyfriend was handing me came from. I started to get up not thinking anything of it with my brain being so fuzzy, where are you going baby?

Then it hit me, he said I can’t use the bathroom. “I was going to pee, but I, um can I please go use the bathroom now? It’s been four drinks now and um a couple hours. I don’t know how well I’ll be able to hold all drunky”

You were going to the bathroom after I specifically told you no? Oh my! I thought you were going to get us more drinks. I don’t think I should let it slide that you weren’t following my instructions. Being drunk is hardly a good excuse for not listening to one simple request. I think you need to go get yourself two drinks for the next episode.

I was whining and rubbing my legs together as he talked. I wanted to be good so I went and got three drinks as he requested. I was feeling so full and I didn’t know how I would manage two more. I tried to get lost in our show, but my bladder was heavy on my mind. I was squirming while trying to drink my drinks wanting to be good. After a while I managed to get invested and relaxed and “AH”

Everything okay? “I um I think I may have leaked a little bit. It was getting a little hazy and” Oh no baby let me take a look, get up. There was a tiny little spot that you wouldn’t notice if you didn’t know, but embarrassing regardless. With the leak taking me out of the drunk haze I was now very aware of how full my bladder was. Instinctively my hand flew down to help me hold as I was standing there helpless. “please can I go use the bathroom? I’ll do anything please”

Anything? I nodded aggressively not considering how this could get any harder. Hm well that is interesting. Maybe we should play a little game for your bathroom privileges. “a game?” Yes, I think that seems fair. We’ll make it an even game too. Let’s flip a coin, actually that’s boring let’s flip twice. Double heads you get to pee. Mixed we’ll wait 10 minutes and flip again. Double tails, hm, you’ll get on your knees and let me drain my bladder.

I let out a whimper both from being a little turned on by his dirty game and from thinking about the challenges in taking in any more fluid. “Thank you, let me go grab a quarter.” “tails, fuck” “no! again? what are the odds! please let’s flip again that was just a trail run”

The game has rules for a reason, sorry you lost, but not sorry enough. Come on get on your knees, I could really use a release.

“Yes sir” I got down as he pulled down his pants. His stream started fast causing me to moan and grab myself. This was making me need to go even more and I was starting to feel unsure if I would make it.

Mmmm much better thank you baby. Maybe you’ll be more lucky in 10 more minutes. I let out a big whine doing a very obvious potty dance at this point. Every minute felt like forever no matter how I tried to distract myself. The kissing might have helped a little, it did get me a little turned on when he used my mouth.

Tails I let out a little sob. Heads 10 more minutes beautiful. I did not know what to do with myself. I don’t know if I can make it. It has been a few hours, 6 drinks, his pee and I’m desperate.

Why don’t we move to the bedroom. Maybe laying down will be a bit easier for you. As soon as we got into bed the kissing started up again. With how drunk we were things started moving pretty fast and before I knew it all of our clothes were off. I wasn’t thinking about anything other than how much I wanted him inside me, but as soon as he pushed in I felt an immense pressure. Feelings of pleasure and discomfort coursed through my body. We were messy, sloppy, and I’m glad no one was near to hear us. It did not last long, but it felt amazing.

“I can’t believe my bladder didn’t surrender. That was so crazy.” You’ve been so good for me let’s flip again, hopefully you’ll be lucky this time. “Heads!” Heads! Go baby! Just hearing that I get relief made my bladder weaken. I ran as fast as I could to the bathroom feeling the first few drops fall before I could even sit down. Finally.

[oonajaeadira]

Hi Adira!

Last week and next week I am living the life of a paid musician (pit then orchestra) and I am fried. Seeing as how you’re familiar with the professional performer life, I was wondering if you have any advice on how to make it mentally and physically sustainable?

I am hoping that more of these opportunities will come my way and I want to be able to do it without spending a week in bed afterwards…

Ooof. I've been there. I mean, you gotta do the basics--sleep, good food, water. I also rely on copious amounts of coffee.

But the thing that usually gets me through a prolonged show-mode slam is plan ahead and then literally taking it one. day. at. a. time.

Don't look down those calendar days and wish for Friday. It's only going to make you burn out on Tuesday. Literally living in the moment saves my ass every time. Assess what you need from moment to moment. Are you hungry? Need a snack? Just sit and rest? Got a couple of hours but just exhausted? Don't worry about the "other stuff." That will be waiting for you at the end of the week. Just do what you need to that day to feel rested in your mind and body. Even if it's just zoning out to tv; don't feel guilty about that. It's just for this moment. There will be productive moments later. This one is for Narcos.

This is not to say you shouldn't plan ahead. Get your laundry done before the big week. Make big batches of good food you can eat on the go or take very minimal time to prepare for a meal so you don't stress about food prep or fall into the trap of fast food which will zap your energy and time and moneys.

One of my biggest events of the year is a two-week period where I'm literally at the office at 10am, participating in the evening events from 5-11pm, and then co-hosting an after-event until around 1am. When you factor in drive time and showers, that leaves me just enough time to sleep. Sometimes.

So I make sure to do my laundry right before. I'll even maybe organize my closet in a way where I can just pull out clothes without thinking too hard. Take an assessment of your groceries/toiletries and make sure you have what you need, because nothing will frazzle you more than not having it and/or having to squeeze in time to get to the shops. (If you do have to have something, mail order.) Make a go-bag for the week with anything you might need (including an extra change of clothes if you need it).

And if there's anything you can put off until after the big event, PUT IT OFF. Just mentally prepare yourself for big focus on the performing for that short burst of time.

When my big event is coming up, this is an example of what I do for food:

Bag of nuts and/or trail mix to keep in my bag.

Bag of carrot sticks I can keep in the fridge at work and a jar of peanut butter at my desk specifically for them. Fk spooning that shit out, dip your sticks in it.

I will boil up an entire family-sized package of Buttoni tortellini, dump in a whole container of the brand's pesto sauce, one whole chopped bell pepper, three whole packages of sprinkle tomatoes (or one package of halved cherry tomatoes), a whole package of peas (steamfresh microwave packet), and half a chopped red onion. MIX. That will give you a pasta salad for at least a week that you can eat cold right out of the fridge or warm up real quick and has a ton of veggies. And if you need protein, you can fix your meats separately and just add them in when you fix up a bowl. The key is to pack it full of tasty veggies you like that will balance the oils/fats of the pesto and turbo charge the carbs for lots of energy. (Pro tip: get a pair of really good kitchen scissors if you're like me and bad at chopping veggies or have terrible knife skills or terrible knives. So much quicker to cut.)

Starbucks via packets are a life saver if you have access to hot water and don't have time to make/grab coffee.

Laugh when you can. Step outside and focus on one thing--one flower, the way the sun hits a stop sign. Let your brain be simple for a little bit every day--I call this "letting it hang to get the wrinkles out". When you've been stationary too long, stretch. And when you feel stressed, close your eyes and imagine Pedro gently placing a finger on any spot that is tense until you let it go.

[bethanysnow]

Golden Hour: a SKZ thanksgiving~

Writers Notes:

As I get back into K-pop and South Korean Culture. The fandoms of K-pop, and Stray Kids. I am reminded of my first holiday season having moved from Alaska. Coming from a big family it felt like the house was too empty, that I couldn't turn the tv loud enough to replace the people that weren't there. Everyone has had that at some point. A holiday, a birthday, or some event where you just wished that person or those people were there for. Even as good as that event or holiday turned out to be. You still saw an empty chair and thought it would be filled. So I write this because of that feeling. I have friends now as an adult all over the world and it's hard to convey that specific brand of isolation.

I know Thanksgiving is a very U.S.-centric holiday. But go with me here lol. I promise it's cute.

So to my fellow stays all across the world you make not only stray kids but also me, stay. So thank you. I may not speak to you directly, but if you are tagged below you have impacted me in your work, and blog, and it's been an honor to be in this space with you. I dedicate this work to you. I hope it doesn't suck!

@hyunsvngs @moonlightndaydreams @moonjxsung @ddyskz @queen-in-the-shadows @chansmanda @antoniorhinothethird @cbini @its-hannjisung @noellllslut @channieandhisgoonsquad @sweetracha @skzms @hyunjinfairy @7ndipity @forlix

Stray Kids ot8 X Platonic!Foreigner!Reader. (But honestly, it can be whatever you want ;) ) 2.7k wrds

"Vanilla! I fucking forgot Vanillia! God damnit!" Recircling it on the very long list that had been trailing behind her through the week. It was days before Thanksgiving and it was not only a herculean task to try and buy cranberry sauce in Korean, but also to find a whole turkey from meet markets and buchers who of course looked at y/n like she was insane.

It was only because Seungmin and Minho teased y/n about just how festive she was getting for the holidays she had to open her big mouth. You just had to, didn't you? Of course! Y/n was gonna show them just how amazing the holidays could be, starting with the third week of November. If she had to pull a full Martha Stewart out of her ass to prove her point she would, Y/n was already too deep into it now.

That is how she found herself in the middle of a grocery store on the outer edges of Seoul trying to buy potatoes and cursing about Vanilla. Y/n thought back on how she got into this mess while continuing shopping.

Originally Y/n worked as a remote context translator for a couple video editors based out of South Korea. That of course turned into more and more Zoom meetings and a vacation to Seoul later she had moved and worked full-time with JYP and Stray Kids. Still as a context translator, but also now as an assistant to their manager whom she grew close with. He was the big brother/father figure one needed in a country you weren't from originally. The eight boys who followed her around like lost puppies also maybe had something to do with it maybe just maybe.

Getting out of the store with her now chosen ingredients it was time to hail back to the apartment and start the process that everyone dreaded most of all. Cleaning. It wasn't the obligatory floordrobe, or the collection of maybe two mugs too many on the coffee table; but left to ones own devices the apartment was...not great for hosting what will be the greatest dinner ever?? One would love to have the ~aesthetic~ apartment you see on Pinterest, but fuck even the Idols she worked for didn't have that. So why should she? Y/n's roommate of six months was out on a bussniess trip for the next week, so she got to fight the great pile of doom on her own.

Walking in the mix of preparation and desolation that greeted her would make Marie Kando tremble in fear. But she was determined! The kitchen was stacked with dishes so strategically one would call her a master of her craft- now this artform isn't one for the faint of heart, but art nonetheless. Putting down the new groceries away in the refrigerator and cabinets it was time to start.

"CUE THE CLEANING MONTAGE!" Y/n yelled as music filled the room. Pretending to be a tavern wench as she cleared the table and did the dishes or Cinderella waiting for a Hwang Prince Charming.

As the night wore on it was becoming increasingly obvious cleaning the entire apartment wasn't going to be an option tonight. Flopping on the couch looking at her phone Y/n scrolled through social media. Instagram, Tumblr, Twitter (Authors note: Fuck you Elon). She stopped and tossed the phone down onto the cushion beside her. Her shirt was wet, cold, still sudsy from doing the dishes that needed to be handwashed. Her knees hurt from getting under the table. Hands ached with the grip of a thousand suns it felt like.

All Y/n could hear though was the quiet. The dripping of the faucet, the cars outside, the heater kicking on. But like a ringing in her ears she just heard quiet. No laughter, no joy or drinks being spilt over stories that don't see the light of day. The air was heavy and thick cold enough to cause goosebumps up her arms. Y/n had moved away from everything she knew on the hope that she would find her place in the world. That she would find her people. Maybe she had, but in the moment she exhaled all that was left was a tired body. It was for thanksgiving, it was for people she now considered friends to come over and have a good time. The emptiness in stagnation though diligently reminded her of why they were her friends in the first place. There was no support group here like back at home. She didn't have to think twice about connotation or what someone meant when they said something because they all spoke the same language at home. Found similar things funny. Understood implications of words and meanings. That was all gone. Working twice if not three times as hard just to get a foot in the door Y/n was faced with the reality and consequence of her decision. She didn't regret it. Or at least at the moment, she didn't. The gnawing in her chest would subside one day and she would find friends, family. People to kiss under the golden hour sun and dance in the kitchen as things baked in the oven. To sneak around roommates and hold hands under the table at a restaurant. She would find them, like a mantra she chanted this over and over while moving to Korea and now she sat on her couch. Looking off into the middle distance her brain coaxing her to the scenarios where she wouldn't find them. Didn't take that step. Didn't say hi.

Yet she was swimming in silence meant to choke her. Drown her hope.

It wasn't enough to be lonely.

it wasn't enough to not understand.

It was in moments like these did she allow tears to reach her eyes and fall.

Over her cheeks, down her jaw, her neck. Just silently spill into empty glasses that never could be filled in the first place.

Her heart was wretched and blue it needed a fire to stay warm and she was almost there.

She looked around the apartment and could almost see Changbin and Seungmin yell at one another about cards, or Hyunjin silently judging her decorations, Chan trying to help but being told not to, and Felix talking about the pie she made. Just like a picture book, it was so close and she blinked and it was the empty room again. Sinking her fantasy into the sea.

...soon

............its soon

~~~~

The days leading up to the fateful Thursday were one of a lot of shopping, decorating, and cooking. Lots of cooking.

Proving the bread to make the rolls, blind baking the pie crust, hell even making the pie crust to then blind bake it. Mixing stuffing to set overnight, potatoes to peel and mash, cranberries to turn into a sauce, a turkey to baste and season and cook, Arms deep in a bird stuffing it with stuffing.

And yes the fisting jokes abound.

The group chat that was made kept the phone buzzing its way off the counter with the fervency in which some of the boys texted.

Jinnie: What should I wear?

Wolf boy: Do we need to bring anything?

Cat: I googled Thanksgiving and...do you really make hand turkey art?

It made Y/n giggle seeing how excited the boys were getting. This was what she needed after the work put in.

Y/n: Wear whatever you want, be comfortable, but Idk..like nice comfortable? Stuff you wouldn't mind photos being taken in? No don't bring anything, and yes we did as kids.

Bin: ...So no girl group outfit? lol

Y/n: No no you could if you wanted to, but that's between you and Stay lol.

Wolf boy: You sure we don't need to bring anything? I can pick something up on the way.

Minnie: Oy, grandpa she said not to~ ;P

Wolf boy:

Y/n: I cannot wait to see you thursday. Don't kill each other before then. Or else no one is gonna eat the food.

~~~~

The day had arrived. At least the dress rehearsal had. The day before it was no holds bars, if it wasn't going to be done that day it wasn't going to be done. Waking up at 6 am Y/n padded out to the kitchen. Making coffee and something to eat it was the waiting before the rush. The inhale of the orchestra before placing their bow on the strings, the grabbing of a mic and feeling it in your hand, the stare into the crowd before going on stage.

The 'hold your breath and jump.'

And the race was on!

Dishes from the cabinet were taken out, the nice dishes, the ones Y/n picked up thinking her social life would be fuller than it was. Yes those dishes. Beautiful and shined like the inside of a clamshell, pearl dust and fairy tears was what the label read originally. Some rich people shit as far as she was concerned, she just liked it being pretty.

The table was set with a red tablecloth, and leaves from maybe the tree outside her apartment, (they were yellow and red, and who really would have noticed?). Crystal glasses, and tapered candles waiting to be lit. Pine cones and wreath garlands shrugged against window sills and folded oh so strategically a brass-coloured throw blanket on the couch to cover a night of drinking.

The food slowly grew from one side of the counter to taking up the entire kitchen. Even having to borrow a table from her roommate to set everything out. Drinks, games to play. The oven heated up the apartment till Y/n had to take off her hoodie and reminisce that maybe this was what it was like to put coal into a train engine. Warm light from the stove swallowed the apartment in an amber-golden glow. Sitting on the kitchen linoleum her head fell back against the cabinet under the countertop. A smile gracing her features. She could hear the timer tick by, feel the heat from the stove, she could look up to the counter top and see dishes filled with food and it was all for tomorrow. For a good day. To have a good day. It will be worth it. She was sure.

By the time Y/n had decided to fold the fabric napkins it was past 1 in the morning. Her phone lit up with a notification, and she swiped her pin to see it was a text from Chris.

"Hi"

"Hey Chan, whatsup?"

"Nothin, working on music. You uh sure you don't want me to bring anything?"

*sends a photo of the buffet that has been created* "That your answer?"

.....

..........

"You did all that for us?"

"Well yea, I want you to have a good time."

"Y/n-"

"Yes Chan?"

"Thank you. I cannot wait to see you tomorrow. Thank you for doing this, I know you've been homesick. So I am looking forward to it!"

"Me too"

turning the screen black Y/n sat back against the chair and looked at the now decidedly more festive apartment. It was like a hallmark movie threw up and she wouldn't change a thing about it.

~~~~

The morning had come. Unlike Christmas or a birthday, this was about family and gathering around a table and honoring those around us. That is what it was supposed to be at least.

Taking the most deep everything shower one can achieve Y/n had it down almost to a science. Lathering body washes, scrubs, hair masks, everything! To hope she could look maybe half as good compared to who was going to walk into her place in a couple hours.

Slipping into a green dress, she put on an apron. Putting the last rolls into the oven wiping down countertops and doing last touches.

She had a hour before all hell would break loose and eight of the most talented men in their generation would be walking in through her front door. It made her nervous.

Not nervous bad, but nervous. First time she had people over to her apartment, first-time friends, but also she did work for them technically. It wasn't lost on Y/n just how amazing this situation was.

How many people would kill to have these opportunities in life. Sure things hurt, and sucked sometimes, but looking around she knew she was grateful and that's what mattered. Till the stove timer went off snapping her back to what needed to be done. Rolls out, covering them with a kitchen towel, running into the bedroom to slap on some makeup and finish her hair. It was just as she put down the last thing did the doorbell go off.

~~~

The group walked in with confidence like they owned the building but Y/n would expect nothing less. All in sweaters and hoodies, sweatpants and big hugs for the host. Standing next to the door Y/n was crushed with biceps only the kpop industry could produce. Holding her tight she kept each boy embraced till they were the first to let go. With Han, Felix, and Chan that could last the entire night though.

"This is your apartment?"

"LOOK AT THE FOOD!"

"You made bread???!"

"Do we eat now??"

"Oy! Y/n you decorated for us? Why?"

*insert Minho elbowing them*

"Its really nice!"

Her apartment was now filled with laughter. Han finding a guitar of course needed to waltz through and serenade anyone who would listen. Chris and Changbin fussing with the tv to get karaoke set up. Hyunjin indeed was judging the decorations but with the artistic eye of admiration in reality. Felix and Seugmin hovered over the food talking about it, pouring drinks. Leeknow sat on the couch scrolling on his phone ultimately being more moral support for the boys at the television. IN staying close to Y/n watching the groups chaos ensue.

It was what she needed.

What she had been missing.

Family.

"Okay everyone, dinner is served!" Taking the turkey out of the oven and the foil off the tops of serving plates "Chan would you do the honors?" Offering to have him place the turkey out on the serving table. His smile reached his eyes as his chest puffed up with pride calling the boys to have a seat. One by one they piled food on their plates high, filling their glasses full, and sitting down at the table antsy so excited to eat with everyone there. For they too felt the separation of the two apartments, they didn't get to have homecooked meals or someone to plan something this nice. But Y/n did. She saw how they ate from food delivery containers, vending machines, and out of each others plates. Her heart ached as did theirs and so tonight, today, would be spent healing that pain.

Chan cut the turkey, Minho continued to smack people's asses because he could, Changbin got up and did a girl group dance playing the song on his phone. People laughed till they cried. Pie was served and everyone commented at how much cool whip was on Felix's because "That's how you're supposed to eat it!"

The sun was setting casting the apartment in that golden hour hue. Where Y/n had normally kept busy, ignoring the pit in her stomach of another day gone by alone. She got to sit back and watch her friends, her new family enjoy time together. Eat a meal that they didn't have to stress about. The golden light filled Y/ns chest with warmth and the fuzziness of blankets at a sleep over, the stuffed animal won at a claw machine, the bed of home after being away. Time had passed, and she could let go of the pain that held her back if these boys were the ones to catch her.

And they would. Time and time again they would catch her. All she needed to do was jump. So while Han sang a disney princess song, and Seungmin and Minho admit defeat that maybe the holidays aren't as bad after all, or even Chan stopped the ever-present work load to be in the moment; Y/n finally had it. What she had been wanting all along. She found her place in the world.

In with these boys, in the laughter, in the pain of loneliness, she had found it.

Uno rounds, songs sung, pillows thrown, food ate, it was truly a Golden StrayKids Thanksgiving after all.

Where no one can be forgotten.

~~~

La fin.

[jeonstellate]

timestamp: rain

it’s 10:45 pm when seokmin watches you leave.

๑彡 lee seokmin x gender neutral!reader

๑彡 slice of life!au — fluff(?), angst

๑彡 paragraph format — 0.2K words

masterlist

[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

๑彡 i wrote this on a whim and somehow finished it in an hour. not really sure where the sudden inspo came from bc it’s definitely not sara sara.

In another life, you and Seokmin would be dancing under the rain. Laughing, kissing, living a scene from a romance movie.

In another life, you and Seokmin would be leaving raindrops in the hallway. Giggling like children, playfully scolding the other for making a trail of dirty water to be cleaned up later.

In another life, you and Seokmin would be preparing dinner after washing off the rain. You would have trouble choosing a movie to curl up to, like any other indecisive domestic couple on a weekend.

In another life, you and Seokmin would be the happiest you could ever be.

But, alas, not in this life.

In this life, you had to insist that you wanted to be the one to leave. Suffocated by the argument you and Seokmin just had. Unable to breathe with the familiarity that engulfed you without comfort.

In this life, Seokmin was only able to stop you from your tracks to hand you an umbrella. Unable to ask you to stay like he really wanted, after a broken "Wait."

In this life, Seokmin was left to watch you from the window. Painfully aware of the tears that mixed with the rain. Powerless to stop them; to stop you. Because Seokmin understood.

In this life, you and Seokmin needed space to be happy.

[bearratic]

From here / @sanctissimx

It was an easy sleep for the demon, a quiet he had needed since the loud buzzing of last night. Now, all that was heard was a rythmic heartbeat and a lost bird or two. The city yet to wake up, he guessed it was even too early for common folk to rise. He didn't mind, there was no need to move just yet. Why ruin something he didn’t even have to ask for. Why not fully indulge in what was given on a silver platter. Comfort and warmth due to the large frame draped atop of him. Leander’s easy breathing wasn't new but had been missed by his own. It slows his pulse, lessens his vivid dreams of terror. Maybe even makes him wish for its return every time it leaves.

The sticky damp of his skin that was a couple hours ago had dissapeared, dried but not forgotten where it came from. Though the shared room was not filled with unpleasant aroma. It was more weighted with sandelwood, still burning candles and of course, the infamous dried booze of the Wet Wick downstairs. The place bringin Ais more amenity than he would ever exclaim aloud, finding it easier to express a dislike than a comfrot. Ais switches his priority and mind back to the easy breathing of the other, the gentle wind bristles over the muscles of his chest, mixing with his own sigh he finds another thought crawl into his mind, univited and unwanted. Usually it was the ease of a blank mind that kept him at bay longer.

So he finally opens his eyes, the crimson gaze first to the ceiling, then it turns down to the sleeping Leander. The demon's glance trails over the others hair, as brown as fresh eath, as messy as their companionship. The light tickle of it as it reaches to the demon's chin. If he didn't know better, he'd say he enjoyed this. Raising his still free arm, the tattoed one, the blue curving around him. Then his hand, reaching to the same strands of hazelnut colored hair, moving them back to be one with the rest, as he has seen Leander do so many times before. It was strange, being together so often grants the ability to practically mimic the other's movements. Or had he just been watching too often, too closely. Ais states that Leander looks different in sleep, usually he beams. Loud, bright and full of pride. Like a lion. And now he is still, so surreal, so enticing, so easy on the eyes. Normally he'd find himself speaking this out of lust, but this time seemed to differ. Finding himself wrapped in Leander's charm like witchcraft, unbeknownst of its true danger.

Nevertheless Ais knows danger by heart, yet he never listens. So, there he is again, in a shared bed, with no regrets this time. Ais moves his head, watching the light break through the curtains. His hand, completing the soothing gesture in Leander's hair, goes down. The hand trails past the man's muscular shoulders, lingering on the scar that had been born on the space between his neck and his chest. He traces it, feeling all the parts of Leander's body it reaches, letting it play and stay where it wishes to do so. Leander's features are exentrated by the morning light. Sharp and inviting, they're different from every angle. Hanging above Ais and peering down like a bird of prey, now set apart for something vulnerable. But why, why is this man trying so hard for his heart, for his... acceptance, asking for praise for each breath. As if Ais' affection was something that needs to be conquered, kept behind lock and key only to be let out when Leander wishes for it.

Are you just a fool? Are you looking for perfect symetry within one that doesn't have one piece of rest for you. Will you ever make the correct choices? Ais' hand moves again. Towards Leanders back, over his shoulder blade. The touch gentle, nearing loving carresses as it leaves no marks behind except light goosebumps. One more shift of his head and his lips ghost across Leanders forehead. Or am I the fool here?

His roaming hand going to the drape of Leanders back, over his spine and vertibre. His waist, his hips, dissapearing under the covers. "Why do pretty mouths always speak such naivity." he murmurs and it was met with a light shift and a stretch from the other, a sign of waking up. The gaze Ais had kept on him all this time is now met with green eyes, they had something like the spring leafs. So the demon shoots him a toothy grin. "How about you get off me, before your massive frame is forever imprinted on mine." He says, but his body wasn't giving in, it was already too late. That face was impossible to ignore, so Ais did the only thing he could when his words normally fail. You're so pretty. Trailing his free hand back up and grabbing the strong jaw of the other. Melting his mouth and lips against the other. A warmth that had his chest burn and his mind still once again. The demon kisses as if he's hungry, as if it's something he had been waiting years for, as if it wasn’t just a couple of hours ago their lips parted. It doesn’t matter to him, he's not letting go first this time.