#usually now I would talk all about what I don’t like about it but

[wcters]

𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘 𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

word count: 3.5k+

summary: after travelling with lando to the last couple of grand prix’s, it takes another driver flirting with you for him to realize his feelings

request: “i've been seeing clips of lando not eating and taking care of himself properly during this short break and max stressing out on the stream could you please write a lando x reader please, where reader is close friends with lando and max and takes it upon herself to travel with lando for the remaining of the gps to make sure hes well. maybe one of the drivers tries to flirt with her during one of the races and thats what makes lando realise he has feelings for her. “

warnings: sweating, talks of unhealthy habits, awkward flirting | what other driver to flirt with her than the one who flirts with everyone, sorry i’ve kind of make him look like a dick i just don’t know how to flirt 🤷‍♀️ not too confident in this one

You’d been friends with Lando almost as long as Max had. You’d been friends with Max for almost your whole lives ━━ meeting him when his family was visiting some of their family during the summer in your town and you two hit it off. You had known about Lando, but you didn’t fully meet him until about a year after the two boys had met. The two of you connected instantly. Both of you don’t know why, though Max had always joked that you two were each others person . . . and you both didn’t know, but he tried the trick the two of you into getting together. He could see the look in Lando’s eyes when he’d look at you, but he’d always make excuses. ‘She’s just a friend, I’m too busy with formula 1,’ etc. Max would just roll his eyes.

You were a bit more accepting to the idea, because you did like him a little bit. Though you didn’t want to ruin the friendship and didn’t want to interrupt his career. You cared too much, and would rather be friends with him than mess it up in a chance that he liked you. Don’t get me wrong, you’d had boyfriends over they years, but the came and went, and you ended up going to Lando or Max about another boy who broke your heart. Every time that happened, Lando swore his heart broke a little bit, but he never told you. He was never really open with his feelings, and that’s why you didn’t notice he wasn’t doing for awhile.

You had known Lando was stressed about this current F1 season. He always talked about it, not about the stress, really, just more about how the car was, the team was, and there was undertone that only you or Max could sense. You both kept an eye on him, but you had recently gotten busy with some stuff. Checking your phone had slipped your mind and you don’t even think to do it until you finally had some time to yourself and you ordered some takeout. It wasn’t until you texted the group chat that Max called you.

“You alright?” You asked him, mouth full of Chinese food. “Yeah. You?” You nodded even though he couldn’t see you, “yeah.” There was some silence before a sigh from the other end. “Usually I don’t get into his business because he can handle himself, but I’m worried about Lando.” You raised your eyebrows and set your food down on the coffee table and paused your television. “What do you mean? Is he okay? I know he’s been stressed but I didn’t think it was anything he hasn’t handled before. It’s Lando, you know?” You ranted, eyes drawing to a picture of the three of you on your wall.

“I know. I wasnt going to do anything besides talk to him about it, but he’s blocked me out. He’s been mentioning ━━ unknowingly, because if he did he wouldn’t say it all ━━ that he’s not been eating well. In the sense that he’s eating expired food that will get him sick but he doesn’t want to go out and not showering a lot. At first, I thought he was just over-exaggerating, but then it continued and when I’d ask, he’d push me off. I don’t think he’s well.” You frowned. “Where is he now? At home?” “Yeah. We’ve been streaming together, and that’s when I started to notice his tone of voice and stuff. I think the stress of the championship is taking a toll on him.”

“I’ll talk to him. I’ll force him to talk to me. I’ll see what we can do. And before you apologize, I know you have other shit going on right now. It’s also nothing to apologize for. He’s our friend. I’ll let you know how it goes okay?” You smiled, hoping Max was feeling better. Knowing him, he was. You picture him with his shoulders becoming less tense and him letting go of the ridge of his nose he was squeezing. “Okay,” he sighed, “let me know if you crack him. “Like an egg.” You both laughed and you ended the call.

You grabbed your computer from the coffee table and opened it, checking the time. It was eight pm. Monaco was only an hour ahead of the UK, and you knew he’d still be up. He’s usually is ━━ and he doesn’t sleep well when he’s stressed. You went on to FaceTime and clicked his name. It only rang a couple times before his face popped up. “Hey.” He greeted you. Even before he talked you could tell something was wrong ━━ his sunken cheeks, his pale face, he literally lived in Monaco, he should not be pale, and his eye bags. His voice solidified your thought. It was tired and strained, like he didn’t have the energy to fake it.

“Hey buddy, how are you?” He replied with an ‘okay and kept eating whatever expired thing it was now. “. . . Are you sure?” You paused before asking, not wanting to set him off. He paused as well and looked up at the screen. “Did Max put you up to this?” He asked you. He wasn’t even mad, he was just tired. “Lando, you’re not doing okay.” You softly told him. He was about to reply before his resolve cracked and he started to sob. You wished you were there to hood him, knowing that he was alone, and he was alone while he want okay. “I know, I know I’m not. But I’m too tired to do anything about it,” he hiccuped as he spoke, “i just wish you were here. I cant do this alone. I have to go back in two days and I’m not ready.”

It was at that moment you made your decision. You kept him on as you booked a one way ticket to Monaco. “Then you won’t be,” you told him, “I’m coming over there. Max can’t, but I can. And I will. You won’t be alone Lando, not anymore.” The man let out a sigh in response and his face started to loosen up. It was quiet before a small ‘thank you’ made its way out of his mouth. “Always.” You smiled at him. “Now, when I get there I expect your ass to be waiting for me in one of those stupid cars of yours.” Lando let out a guttural laugh, and he had to admit it felt good. “You got it.”

Lando kept his promise, and as you stood out front of the Monaco airport, you spot him. His face is scanning the area, trying to find you, but he passes right over you. You shake your head ━━ for a formula one driver, he can be oblivious. “Muppet! Over here!” His eyes finally meets yours and his face lights up. “Hey.” You greet each other as you hug. “Hey. Nice to see you.” He told you as he grabbed your bags and piled them into the trunk. “You too. Someone had to save your ass.” He looks at you with a ‘really?’ face and you shrug and get in the car.

You chat all the way to his house. It took a little while because when you stopped for gas, a couple fans spotted him and asked for pictures, but you weren’t in any rush. A rush meant less time with him. You also knew meeting the fans made him happy, his face may not say it, but when you three would FaceTime he’d rant with a giant smile on his face about the fans he’d met and gifts he’d got. You and Max always teased him about it, joking that he’s such a hotshot and ‘you’re so popular!’ but that’s all that it was, jokes.

When you got to his house, you only pulled a couple things out of your suitcase as you were leaving with him the next day. You showered, and then forced him to take you to the grocery store to make him real food, not food that’s been sitting in his fridge or freezer for months. You ended grabbing things to make Alfredo and headed back, putting music on, grabbing some wine, and getting to it ━━ though it was mostly you cooking and Lando almost hurting himself with the most random things. You didn’t know how he lived by himself.

After that, he still hasn’t packed his bag ━━ which you scolded him like a child for ━━ and helped him pack it. You think his neighbours thought it was a domestic by the way you two bickered.

“What about this one?” “I don’t know.” “Lando. You have until tomorrow, and at this rate, you’ll be going naked.” “People won’t mind that.” “You’re so gross. Get out of my sight.”

You continued to bicker to the point where you shoed him off with a wave of your hand ━━ he didn’t actually leave, just talked to you with a smug look on his face ━━ and you chose clothes for him. You were definitely telling Cisca about this. At the end of it, you two were giggling at the movie you had put on, drunk off wine and delirious after the loss of sleep. You didn’t even know you fell asleep until you woke up by the sound of Lando’s alarm. You had to wake him up with so much force it almost pushed him off the couch. “Wake up you dickhead.” You two were a mess of limbs tangled together. That was the closest you two had ever been.

It didn’t take long ━━ with you practically shoving him out the door ━━ to arrive at the airport and get on the McLaren private jet. You felt a bit weird getting on as you even offered to get your own flight, but Lando looked at you like you had grown two heads and replied with “Oscar’s girlfriend uses it, you get to too.” That made you blush. You didn’t think he realized how the words sounded. When you got in, Lily and Oscar were already seated. You greeted each other and you went off with Lily as Oscar and Lando talked about the race coming up with their team over a zoom call.

Though you had heard of Lily, this was your first time meeting her. She was incredibly nice and you two got along great, even exchanging numbers incase you wanted to rant about ‘how annoying the boys were’ with a wink. That was pretty much how the plane ride went, you and Lily chatting and laughing as the boys talked strategy. Both of you didn’t know this, but you and Lando kept stealing glances at the other. When Oscar asked, Lando’s excuse was ���she’s my best friend, just making sure she’s alright,’ but yours was a bit different.

You had been showing Lily pictures of the three of you: Max, you, and Lando, and sharing stories before she asked “what’s up with you and Lando?” You paused and turned to look at her. “What do you mean?” She gave you a look. You sighed, “we’re just friends.” “In a ‘I’m denying it way’ or a ‘I like him, but we’re just friends’ way?” “The second one. I mean, he’s my best friend and I love him, but I like him a little bit. But I’d rather face it alone than lose the friendship.” You whispered that part, looking to make sure Lando wasn’t looking. She nodded, “I get that . . . But are you sure he doesn’t like you back?” “He burps in my face and eats my food. I’m sure.

She let out an ‘okay’, dragging out the ‘y’. Though Lily wanted to say that Oscar did that too ━━ besides the burping part ━━ she didn’t. She figured you’d eventually figure it out, or she and Oscar’s would give you the little push you needed.

You must’ve fell asleep soon after you put in your hand phones and put on your playlist as you woke up to someone attempting to pick you up. “Hm?” You asked, still half asleep. You heard a quiet ‘shot’ before the voice spoke up louder. “Time to wake up.” You opened your eyes to see Lando standing in front of you. “What a way to wake me up with a jumpscare of your face.” You mused as you got up and stretched. You were always a bit grumpy when you woke up and that’s why Lando wanted to lift you so you’d stay awake. “I will hit you.” He replied to you as you made your way down the stairs of the plane and on to the tarmac. “I’ll tell Cisca.” That shut him up real quick.

The city of Austin, Texas passed by you in blurry images. Usually Lando would’ve poked you until you finally turned to him and hit him in the back of the head, but it was your first time in Austin and he let you take it all in. When you got closer to the hotel though, that’s when he started to annoy you. You did hit him in the head when the car parked in front of the hotel, and Lily and Oscar heard the aftermath of that with Lando mumbling an ‘ow’ and rubbing the back of his head.

“I don’t even hit you that hard!” “Yes you did, I have brain damage.” “I’ll give you brain damage if you keep complaining.”

The four of you made it into the hotel and up to your rooms, albeit with a little fuss with you and Lando bickering, but when you got into the room, you immediately flopped on the bed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been to a hotel with a bed as nice as this.” Lando looked surprised. “Really?” You nodded as you sat up and crossed your legs. “You told me Max payed for you for that one hotel in Italy?” You stayed silent. “Did he not pay for you?” “No, i payed for myself . . . At a different hotel. It’s not his fault though, I told him you payed for me.”

You knew you were in for a scolding when you saw his face, and you were. You tried so hard not to giggle at his face. He was halfway through a sentence when you finally broke. “What?” “Your face is really funny when you’re mad. You make a weird face.” “I do not!” “You do, ask Max.” “Whatever.” He continued and then made you promis to never do that to him or Max with a pinkie promise. You rolled your eyes and did it. After that, you two got ready for bed. You had gotten into your individual beds and turned the lights off when you spoke up. “It was a good plan though. None of you had a clue.” “. . . It was good. But you’re not doing it again.” “. . . Damn.”

You stayed with Lando for the rest of the US Grand Prix, only letting him go for interviews, racing, and media ━━ though you made sure to check on him during the day when you could. When you couldn’t be with him, you’d hang out in the garage with Lily, or you’d tag along with the other girls who were there that Lily introduced you to. You’d particularly made friends with Alexandra, you two hitting it off almost immediately.

You passed out almost immediately when you got back to Monaco for the next couple days before you had to leave again, and it felt like a blur. You only remember a little of it ━━ showers, movies with Lando, and sleeping ━━ before you were being shipped off to the next Grand Prix. You had no idea how he did it. You knew he’d been doing this awhile, but the jet lag was enough to hve you feeling hazy. You were sure Lando had gotten so many pictures of you sleeping and sent them to Max. There was one time when you woke up while he was taking one and you couldn’t get his phone in time . . . Though you did threaten to post an embarrassing photo of him during his teenage years if he didn’t delete. He showed you him deleting it, and the redownloaded it. You found this out later after Lando sent it to the group chat. That dickhead.

You were now in Brazil, two weeks later, heading into the Paddock with Lando. You offered to stay behind and let him have pictures taken of just him but he waved you off, joking that ‘you’d make him look better.’ In response to that you gave him the finger and walked in front of him ━━ thought you had no idea where you were going ━━ with his laugh resonating behind him.

You were excited for Brazil. You’d always wanted to go there since you were kid, fascinated with the culture and country, but your family never had enough money and you had been busy every previous time the Brazil Grand Prix took place. You had ranted to Lando the whole car ride there, him giggling at how excited you got. He didn’t find it weird or annoying, just happy that it made you happy. You hung it in the McLaren garage with the boys and Lily until it was time to start media, then you made your way to the Williams garage to find the other Lily. It was one of the races she was able to make it to and you had planned to meet up.

When you got to the garage, you passed Alex and Franco. You had met Alex, but you had yet to the men the new rookie. You’d heard of his flirty reputation from Lando, laughing at him. You eventually found Lily with some help and you two stayed at the Williams garage for a little bit before you both decided to grab some coffee. You talk about her career, your families, friends, and things going on recently. You told her how you ended up here ━━ obviously keeping some details out for Lando’s sake ━━ as you grabbed the coffee and made rounds around the Paddock.

It when you had stopped by the bathroom so Lily could go that you saw Franco again. You were on your phone when you heard his voice. “I saw you at Williams, no?” You lifted your head to see him leaning against the wall beside you, facing you. “Yeah. I was going to see Lily.” He nodded and hummed. “Are you here with Lily?” He smirked. When he did that you realized what he was doing. “No. I’m with someone else. A friend.”

“A friend, huh?” You forced yourself not to roll your eyes. You nodded. “Well, since they’re just a friend, do you want to get to know each other?” You were about to respond when Lily came out. You handed her her stuff as she greeted Franco. You were about to leave before you turned to him, “not really.” He looked like he’d been slapped in the face, not expecting that response.

Lily never asked, but you had a fleeting she knew what took place based on what you said last to him, the look on her face, and the quiet giggles she let out. You two continued to walk around the paddock until Alex texted her that he was done. She apologized but you told her not to be and tell Alex you say hi.

You weren’t in a hurry to get back to the McLaren garage so you took your time, strolling past different areas and looking at food stops. When you did get the garage, you saw Lando with an annoyed expression and you made your way over, bumping your shoulder into his. “What’s up?” He looked at you. “You met Franco?” You raised your eyebrows, not expecting him to know that. “Yeah . . . How’d you know?” “Oscar told me.” You nodded slowly. He seemed upset. There was a beat of silence before you realized what he was feeling.

“Are you jealous?” He spun his head around to face yours. “No!” You raised an eyebrow. “Sure. Sure.” You looked at the screen he was just watching, pretending to leave it as you noticed him fiddling with his hands. “Yes. I was.” His voice was quiet as he spoke, almost as if he was scared to say it. “Why?” He cleared his throat, “because he was flirting with you. I know he was.” “Why does that matter?”

There was some more silence. “Because i like you.” You opened your mouth in shock, not prepared to hear that. You opened and closed it before you spoke. “Really?” He took your expression in the wrong way and responded with a ‘forget it’ and moved to put his headphones back on before you grabbed them out of his hands and forced him to look at you. “I like you too, you muppet.” Now it was his turn to be shocked. When he repeatedly opened and closed his mouth, you grabbed the sides of his face and kissed him. It was weird. I mean, you’d imagined it, but you never expected it to happen.

When you pulled away, his cheeks were red and he had a sappy smile on his face. “So . . . Can I take you out on a date after this then?” You snorted, “well I hope so. I want to be treated, Mr. Norris.”

[classyrbf]

SHE'S A SUCCUBUS! — CHOSO KAMO

SYNOPSIS...as a sex demon, she can always sense the horny virgin boy who’s dying to lose his virginity

INFO...choso x succubus!reader, sub!choso, virgin!choso, somnophilia, riding, overstim, creampie, oral (m!receiving and f!receiving), slight ass eating, cum eating, doggy, squirting, choso is super needy and eager, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

Choso always felt left out when his friend would constantly talk about all the girls they’ve been with, all the experiences they had and what crazy shit they always got into. He’d just sit there, silent. He couldn’t relate to them not one bit. The closest he’s ever to having sex is his right hand or a sex toy. No girl ever looked his way, and his confidence was crushed. They’d only go after his friends, practically drooling over them. Not one of them spared a glance towards Choso.

He was begging to lose his virginity, dying to know what real pussy felt like, how soft tits felt in his hands or even some ass. God, don’t even get him started on wondering what it feels like to receive head. His friends swear it’s the best thing ever as long as the girl knows what she’s doing. He always watches porn, the women on their knees, slobbering all over the man dick like it was some divine dessert. He loved watching the way their pussies wrapped around the mans dick, just imagining how wet and warm it is. He was a lost cause. At this point, he was ready to pay someone to take his virginity. Literally.

And just like any other night, he goes back home, ready to fuck his fist to another average porn video before dozing off to sleep. He’s been extremely horny lately, more than usual and he can’t understand why. Not to mention the wet dreams he’s been having, waking up to cum in his pants like he’s a damn teenager. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, feeling the need to cum more and more everyday.

Hours later, he’s fast asleep, tossing and turning as he has another wet dream of someone riding him. He can’t make out her face, but it feels so damn real. Everything does. Even her moans and the weight on top of him. “Mmm,” he hums. His brows furrow. He can even hear the sound of skin on skin. His entire body feels like it’s on fire right now, like he’s been hit with some sort of sex pollen. It’s more intense than ever.

Little does he know it’s not a wet dream, no, it’s you. The succubus who’s been watching him for weeks, feeling his urgency to cum, to lose his virginity. He’s summoned you without even realizing. And now you were riding him, gliding your wet pussy up and down his aching cock while he slept, waiting for the moment he wakes up and realizes he’s no longer a virgin. He twists and turns when you run your clawed nails down his pale skin, smiling at the way he moans and whimpers in his sleep.

Choso couldn’t take this overwhelming feeling anymore, forcing himself to wake up, prying his tired eyes open. But the feeling doesn’t stop. The sounds don’t stop. And certainly the woman is his dreams doesnt disappear when he opens his eyes. “Wha—ah—what? Who…? Oh fuck!” He rasps, eyes darting around the room and over your naked body. “What the fuck? Oh my goddd.” As confused and scared as he is right now, he can’t escape the pleasure coursing through him right now.

“Shhh, shhh, just let me make you feel good. You’ve been dying for this haven’t you? I’m here to give you exactly what you want.” You slightly lean back, spreading your legs to let him get a clear view of the way your pussy sucks his cock in.

He looks at you with awe and confusion, but he can’t help but give in, moaning so sweetly when you fully sink down. “Who…who are you?” He gasps, eyes widen when you clench your pussy around him.

“I know when cute virgins like you wanna lose their virginity. You summoned me, accidentally. You’ve been so worked up lately, huh? Well,” you smile, “that was because of me.” His cock twitches inside of you, your hips bouncing faster and harder, watching the way he mouth falls open.

“Fuck, fuck! It’s feels so good,” he heaves, breathing heavily. His cheeks dusted a light pink. “I don’t wanna cum just yet, please slow down. Please, please—nnghhh, fuckkkk.” Choso didn’t stand a chance, shooting sticky ropes of cum into your pussy, his entire body quivering with how intense his orgasm was. “Please, slow down—ah, oh my god. It feels too good—” His eyes rolled into the back of his head as you kept fucking him.

“I’ll keep fucking you till there’s nothing left.” You lean forward, pressing your chest against his, placing your lips on his while you kiss him with such fervor, with such sloppiness. His hands reach down, gripping the plush flesh of your ass. He swears he’s in heaven right now. This can’t be real. No way a sex demon was taking his virginity right now. His dick was so sensitive, but still so hard. He knew he had so much cum left, the only thoughts he had were to fill you up over and over until it was dripping out.

He felt like he was losing his mind, fucking him so hard, creating a sloppy mess where you two met just so you can get him to cum again. Your devilish yet sweet giggles send chills up his spine and straight down to his already throbbing dick. With labored breaths, and his heart rattling against his rib cage, he already knows he’s going to cum again. So soon. “Come don’t hold back on me. I want it all,” you growl in his ear. “I’ll do whatever it takes to empty you dry and fuck you stupid.”

His trembling fingers grip onto your ass harder as he cries out, broken moans swallowed by your kisses and he can’t help but cum again, filling up your tight pussy to the brim. You pull away from the heated kiss looking at the way his hazy eyes stare up at you with such desperation. You halt the movement of your hips and get up from his lap. “No, no, wait. Where are you going?! Please, keep fucking me.” He sits up, watching you get on your knees. Poor thing looks like he’s almost about to cry.

And now he can get a real good view of you. The tail that swayed around and the small little horns that pointed from the top of your head. You really were a sex demon. Your hand took a firm grip on his throbbing cock, his tip leaking like it was begging you to make it cum again. “I can see your thoughts. Your nasty little thoughts.” You run a long stripe from his balls all the way to his tip, licking the excess cum off. Your tongue was freakishly long, but god did it feel so good on him. You spit on his cock, massaging it in as you stroke him, moving your hand in circular motions that make his hips jump. “Say it. I know what you’re thinking.” Your lips curl into a smirk, running the pad of your thumb over his slit.

“Put…put your mouth on it, please,” he says barely above a whisper, too shocked to even form proper words.

“Louder.” You massage his balls with your free hand, earning a guttural groan from him.

“Please, put your mouth on it! Fuck, I wanna know how good it feels!” His lip quivers, his breathing quickening the closer your lips get.

“Good boy.” You smile, darting your tongue out and wrapping it around the base of his cock, swirling it around the head before you take him in your mouth. You stare at him through thick lashes, bobbing your head up and down his thick shaft, spit spilling from the corners of your mouth. Glug, glug, glug.

The sound of you choking on his dick was like music to his hears, taking his all the way down your throat with no problem. How is he supposed to keep up? His brain is fried and his body already feels so weak from cumming two times in a row. But he can’t stop. It’s like you’ve put some kind of spell on him to make him want more. “Shit, I’m all the way in,” he gasps, fall back onto the pillows. You pull him out of your throat, string of saliva connect from your lips to his cock as you continue stroking him. You were so messy, so nasty, but he loved it so fucking much because this is always how he’d picture it.

You spit back on his cock before taking him down your throat again without warning. “Oh my—fuck me, I’m gonna fucking cum again!” He whimpers. His body jolts and his abs tense up at the sensation, pleasure shooting through his body like electricity. He’s so sensitive he can’t help it. His hips buck up into your mouth and next thing he knows, he’s cumming down your throat. “Nnngh shit!” He groans, each orgasm more intense than the last. It’s like as time goes on, he can’t help but get more horny, more greedy.

Within seconds he’s pulling you off his dick on bending you over, pulling your ass in the air. “I’m sorry, I can’t stop, I can’t stop, I can’t,” he’s muttering to himself, sweat dripping down his body. He pushes every inch into you with such ease, like your pussy was made for him. “Feels so good, feels so good I can’t stop stop,” he cries, rummaging his hips into you, fucking hard and fast.

“You’re learning so quickly.” You smile from below him, pushing your ass back against his hips. He watches the way your ass bounces back on his dick and he becomes mesmerized. “That’s it! Fuck me harder. Show me how badly you wanna cum in my pussy again,” you giggle.

Choso pushes your head into the mattress, broken moans falling from his lips. “I need it so badly, so fucking badly.” Your pussy grips him like a vice and he hisses at the tempting feeling.

“Make me squirt all over your cock! Come on, fuck me like you mean it!” You grip the sheets below you, feeling his swollen head press against your sweet spot over and over with each grueling thrust. Upon hearing your words, Choso remembers all those videos he’s watching of girls squirting, and to make you squirt just because of him makes his brain fuzzy. He keeps the same pace, huffing and panting when your pussy grows tighter. “Yes! Yes!” You laugh, sighing in relief when he pulls out and clear liquid shoots from your pussy, coating his cock and sheets.

His eyebrows raise in amazement. “Holy fuck,” he watches the way your pussy leaks before urgently ramming his cock back inside of you. “Do it again. Squirt all over me again! Please! It’s so fucking hot!” He begs as he pounds your pussy like his life depends on it. “Wanna watch you—nnngh—squirt again!”

As if on cue, your pushy gushes around him again, soaking his thighs and his cock and just the sight of it makes him cum so hard he’s toppling over you. “Fuck! I’m cumming!” He thrusts deep inside of you, making sure not to waste even a drop. “Yes, yes!” He huffs, bucking his hips. “I need to taste you, need to fucking—mmm.” He drops to his knees, pulling your ass back against his face while his tongue slurps every drop his cum and your juices, licking through your sloppy folds and sucking on your clit.

“Eager little thing, aren’t you? Such a good, good boy.” You praise, reaching behind you, taking a fistful of his hair and pushing his face deeper into your cunt. His moans at your taste, his free hand reaching down to stroke his swollen and sensitive cock. He moves his tongue up and down, running back and forth between your clit and your ass, and back down to your hole. You quickly pull him away before sitting up.

“Did I do something wrong? Why’d you stop?” He looks at with sad eyes.

“You’re done.” You look down at his cock.

“No, no, I’m not. I promise I still have more. Just keep fucking me, let me eat your pussy or something! Don’t leave!” He pouts, watching you crawl towards him.

“As much as I’d like to keep playing with you, you’re all out of cum, pretty boy.” You smirk. “I’ve got other desperate virgins like you to attend to.” You ghost your lips over his and Choso leans in for a kiss but you pull back from him. “You’re welcome.”

You disappear into a dark corner in his room, like you faded away into it. He runs to turn on his light and sees you’re completely gone. He’s at a loss for words, standing in the middle of his room completely naked. He looks towards his bed, seeing the wet spots you had left. So it was real? No? Yes? He didn’t know what to believe. He accidentally summoned a sex demon to take his virginity. If only he could do it again.

[foolishaetherguardian]

“… and be sure to report any further unusual tectonic activity. Dismissed.” Bats finally finished the report. Why was he here? Right the first five minutes had been about the possibility of magic having been used. This really should have been an email he just ignored or left Zatanna to deal with. Bunny girl was better at feigning interest than he was after all. “John, Zatanna if you would both remain.”

Damn the brat. Why did the inter dimensional brat decide today to bug him? John knew he could pop up at literally any point in time like it was normal. It was revenge. For what offense he didn’t know. Or maybe he hadn’t even done it yet. Stupid fifth dimensional traveling.

“… stantine. CONSTANTINE.” “Bugger off.”

“John.”

Shit. Okay first names were bad with the cape. Like find a new existence and disappear off the face of the planet bad.

“Right sorry mate just, distracted.”

“The fact that an eldritch horror from who knows where was hanging off you like a scarf actually had some effect on you? You must be getting sentimental in your old age.”

“Love we both know that if it was weighing on me I wouldn’t be around to talk. You wouldn’t be either.” John had some respect for Zatanna. She was a good mage. Understood the proper importance of a cigarette and a blokes need to keep up appearances. Usually at least. “Got a cig?”

“Those will kill you someday.” The disapproval and sarcasm rolled off her tongue as smooth as the honeyed lies the lass would use with magic. John wanted to quip back but settled for a death glare as the big bad bat threatened to perfect his own death glare on him. Why did the bat have to be such a stickler? Rules rules rules. Rules don’t save lives when they shackle you from good. Damnit. Why were all the big dogs so damn… good?

“Hrm.”

Right the bat. The bat that right now probably wanted to string him up by his ankles and let the archdemons sort out how to cut him into nice even thirds if his damned rules didn’t stop him. Why did he have a cigarette?

“Uh bats?”

“Hrm.”

Just as loquacious as always that cape. Keep that thought inside. Definitely keep the thought inside. Especially as you take that stupidly expensive cigarette.

“Thanks. I could really…” The cig was hard. It was candy. The bat almost had an actual expression under the cowl, there was the slightest tightness of the lips. A smirk. He was smirking. ”You know what? Fuck you.” The fake cig crunched in his mouth. It actually tasted pretty good. Not that he was going to ever let anyone know that. “I’m going home. Hopefully to eat my leftovers. The brat isn’t a threat. If you want to know just ask the lass about the between or the Infinite. Or better yet go ask Grundy about The Protector.”

God he needed a drink. And a smoke. And maybe another drink. John was pretty sure that his food was gone too.

“How old is he?”

Dammit lass. Why did you always know just what to say? “14…. I think.” John replied stopping at the door to the stupid tech magic tubes that Supes had insisted on. “He’s some other world’s hero.”

The lass had to think on that one. Not every day you meet an alternate. “Is he… okay?”

“He’s doing alright. Insists his parents couldn’t understand though, so he always carries it alone. Protects people that way, or so he says.” John finally let himself laugh. It was a fitting description of most of the capes who worked with the league. And himself. If he was generous. Pity he couldn’t afford to be generous with himself anymore. “I’m just his fallback. And debit card.”

“It would do him some good to meet others. If you can invite him to the next picnic.”

John blinked slowly. Then turned. The Bat had a smile. A proper smile. Soft and understanding. How? The man was almost certainly just a mass inhuman muscle and brains with the bare minimum speech capability bundled into a bat suit. “I’ll make sure to offer it. But he’s still weird about his… abilities.”

“I’ll get him added to the budget.”

“Budget?” Now this was sounding promising. While the league did pay it wasn’t much more than rent for the closet he used to access the house.

“For young heroes or metas under league guidance. One of the points Bruce Wayne insisted on when he decided to find us officially. So they have a safe place.”

“I’m a safe place?” John’s incredulity was finally outweighing his paranoia. A hefty feat considering even he considered himself to be 90% paranoia by volume.

“Sure sounds like it mate.” Only the lass could say something so damning like it was a good thing.

“{Guess so}” Why did he understand the grunt? Are the grunts some secret dad cape speak? Why was he suddenly qualified for…. Nope. Nope. He’s going home. Sleep liquor and maybe a bit of tele. No he wasn’t tearing up. And no one could see his face to tell you otherwise.

Danny has met Constantine.

Constantine has a coat.

Danny regularly pops out of it to say hi or when Constantine calls him for something.

Nobody in the JL knew this, so when Danny popped right on out in the middle of a meeting.

Well.

[luckykiwiii101]

ONE THING ABOUT BEING THE QUEEN OF DELUSIONS? IT GIVES YOU A LONG WAY TO FALL

p.s. this post isn’t pretty, it wasn’t worth my time, or effort.

Hey Upper East Siders. Gossip girl here. Usually i’m here to help you fix your life, but @loaisacult, this one’s for you. And I can’t name any upper east siders more desperate than, well…you. It’s pitiful I know. But you can cry about it later, if you haven’t ran out of tears already, that is.

I don’t mean to start a fight, but there’s a weak link in every chain, and it just happens to be you.

I know you express your belief in the law of assumption being a cult. The funny thing is, when people don’t like something, they usually walk away, unless it bothers them that much. And the even funnier thing is, you complain about bloggers “preaching” the law of assumption, and getting others to follow. But what are you doing? Preaching your ideologies, in hopes that others will follow you too. Oh what’s that word again…hypocritical was it?

And oh sweetie, no one cares about your irrelevant opinions enough to affirm “@loaisacult doesn’t exist, @loaisacult doesn’t exist…” Talk about a weak argument. I hope law isn’t your major. But you know what is major? Your idiocy.

Calling people on this app suicidal? Pathetic. Although I can’t tell you that isn’t true. Because to some extent, it is. And i’d agree with you if you weren’t so ignorant. But I guess changing self in terms other than just loa isn’t your cup of tea. Bloggers are not meant to be personal therapists for people in the loacommunity. And yes there are and were previously some bloggers who would get suicidal asks from anons and just respond to them to persist. But why are you generalising EVERYONE in the community? Your point is immediately invalid. So because there were some immoral bloggers who would act that way automatically means that the whole entire practise of the law of assumption is a CULT? Hello? Do you hear yourself?

Let’s use your “logic” here. Say gossip girl makes a post telling her followers to worship satan. Therefore the whole entire loa community must ALL be satanists! Now how ridiculous is that…

Yes there are liars, everywhere. Oh i’m sorry, did that come as a surprise to you? You didn’t think the world was rainbows and sunshine did you? Well unless you assume it is. But at the same time, there are honest people too. Yet you like to pick and choose what to focus on. Look me in my virtual eyes and tell me that Lady gaga isn’t one of the most famous people on the planet. Oh wait..you can’t! News flash, she manifested that. And so did many of your other favourites. Yet you choose to focus on liars, because that’s what you want to believe. Of course a close minded, one sided argument is your way to go. Disregard everything else in the process why don’t you.

“It's ironic how some boast about manifesting luxury items like Lamborghinis, which could easily be rented, yet they fail to manifest meaningful change for their followers who are in abusive situations.” - l.o.s.e.r

B-b-but didn’t you say that you used to be a big blogger? So why didn’t you attempt to do the same? (As if! it would only work if they assumed so). But honestly, you don’t sound like someone who is educated on the law, you sound like those desperate anons in bloggers inboxes asking bloggers to manifest for them. Because why is that the point you used? To manifest for followers? Were you…one of those…followers? Talk about holding a grudge. No wonder why you’re so mad. If I had a dime for how many times you got rejected i’d be a millionaire.

“Want to prove to your followers who are spiraling about the American election rather than post persist hehehee how about you manifest for them….. change the election revise life’s an illusion while you’re crying about having your rights taken away lol but you can’t.” - l.o.s.e.r

Run upper east siders, we’ve got an idiot on our hands. Making a point on something completely false. If you really understood the law, you’d know that you can’t manipulate somebody else’s reality, unless they assume you can. But it’s not to my surprise that you didn’t know that, of all people. Last time I checked, it’s YOUR imagination, and nobody else’s. So WHY would YOUR 3D reflect THEIR imagination? And you claim to be a blogger educated on the law…quite a “big” one too. I cant name any “big” bloggers who’ve misinformed the law THAT bad. Talk about liars now…

At this point, it’s PAINFULLY obvious that you were one of those anons begging bloggers to manifest for you. Because you’re SO mad that bloggers don’t do that for people. They can’t really because it depends on your assumption. I’m not even making an invalid point here. It’s just so obvious. “Want to prove to your followers.” “how about you manifest for them” 😭 I’m literally in tears because of how funny this is. I’m sorry that no blogger has proven it to you or manifested “for you”, and you’ve carried that hatred with you and projected it onto the whole loa community. And the only reason you continue to believe that the law of assumption is real (rightfully so) is because you know that there’s way too much proof of it to even attempt to dismiss it without looking like a fool. And maybe a fraction of that belief comes from your hope, because without the law, everything you’d ever hoped for would be out the window.

In short, you make points about “why don’t you manifest for your followers 🥺” Well, I don’t know if you knew this but…there’s this concept called free will. And just because someone chooses to not do something, doesn’t mean they can’t. Is common sense just not part of the package for you? It seems the point flies right over your head faster than you can catch it, and the only thing that doesn’t land, are your “points”.

But if you still don’t understand me, let’s use a little bit of your so -called logic here.

‘Loa is real manifesting is real shifting is real but most people in this community lie and are culty 99.999% of the stories here are lies the people doing that shit don’t even post abt it probably think they’re in some dream most of the success here are creative writing and living in the end.” - l.o.s.e.r

From YOUR logic, couldn’t I just ask you to manifest that the liars don’t exist and that you no longer view the law of assumption as a cult? So why haven’t you…? You’ll ask anyone questions but yourself. And if they think it was a dream…then how did they send their success stories to bloggers? Did I miss an update because last time I checked, you can’t do that in a dream. See, your points are fuelled by complete hatred, not logic. You truly don’t believe what you’re telling yourself and others. Embarrassing.

And don’t get me started on how statistically IMPOSSIBLE that is. Do I even have to explain why? I promise you, thousands of people are NOT lying for the pure fun of it. That’s just not how the human mind works. Wouldn’t they rather shit on loa just like you rather than posting success stories hoping it’ll happen?I didn’t know talking out of the wrong hole was in fashion these days. But then again, not everyone has style. And if there’s one thing money can’t buy, it’s class. Was that a moth? Must’ve flewn right out of your wallet.

Now don’t get me wrong, i’m not bothered to read your whole blog and all the nonsense you cry about and debunk every little thing you say. Because trust me, common sense does the job for me.

Have fun continuing to “preach” your delusional idea of the law being a cult to yourself and your little followers. Like sheep. One after the other.

Don’t even think about trying to respond to me, as if anything you say makes sense.

P.S. I’ll delete this post later, I don’t like having drama on my blog. This is my first and last time addressing you. I just don’t want people in this community, including my lovely upper east siders to listen to idiots like you telling them that all the success stories they’ve read are fake, when that is so obviously not true. Only someone who hasn’t consciously the experienced the law for themselves would doubt others so badly, and you used to be a “big” blogger you say…The fucking audacity. But then again, it’s hard to believe in something you haven’t experienced for yourself (is it?), but at-least don’t get caught in a lie. Disrespectfully, shut your mouth and don’t open it again.

- gossip girl

[felassan]

David Gaider on Kieran, under a cut for length:

"CHARACTERS - DAY TWO: Kieran (Technically this is an addendum to yesterday, but I make the rules here so nyah!) Heading into DAI, I had a bite-sized problem on my hands. I knew Morrigan would feature. I also knew we were importing previous choices. So now I had to contend with: the Old God Baby. Here's the thing about honouring previous game choices, from a design perspective: it's a sucker's game. What many fans picture, when you mention it, is divergent *plot* -- the story changes path based on those major choices. How exciting! But you will never be able to deliver divergent plot. You can deliver flavour differences (usually in the form of divergent dialogue), character swaps (character X appears instead of Y), and extra content (such as a side quest) -- but plot branching, particularly the critical path? It's a question of resources, and there's never enough to go around. "Here Lies the Abyss" in DAI was about as good as it gets, and even that was a far cry from how I originally pictured it (hello last-minute insert of Stroud when a DAO Warden import got cut). The Old God Baby was one of the main choices from DAO -- Morrigan has a baby? With the Archdemon's soul?! Most DAO players who flagged that choice surely expected *monumental* consequences. World-shaking consequences! And we talked about it. We did. There were, like, three different designs of the DAI ending where OGB Kieran could cause complete divergence: new path, cutscenes, the whole nine yards. But it wasn't going to happen. It was a decision from *two games ago* that only a small minority (hello telemetry) would even choose. To the rest, they probably neither knew about it nor cared... so how many resources could you invest? To do what? Set up an even bigger divergence for the NEXT game? The other writers acknowledged my anxiety with a grim nod every time it came up, but they had no solutions. Finally, I realized there WAS a solution, and that was changing how I thought about the choice: don't make it about Kieran. The players don't know him, never have. Make it about Morrigan. Thus began a feverish three days where I wrote probably the most complicated scene of my career: Morrigan's reckoning with Flemeth in DAI and the fallout after. Three different versions (OGB Kieran, non-OGB Kieran, and no Kieran), each with branching for other choices (like the Well of Sorrows). I did it all at once. There was no other way to wrap my head around the complexity of it. It was also a tough sell to the team, considering the amount of cinematics work, but they agreed we had to do *something*. And still it felt... underwhelming, insofar as divergence goes. But it was also good. I remember when I first spoke with Claudia, about how this was Morrigan's story. This was about how motherhood had changed her, how she'd grown up. Claudia got a bit teary-eyed. It was a journey she was familiar with, she said. Her first son, Odin, had been born in 2005 not long after DAO came out. And, man, she killed with that performance! Kate, too, but I'll get to her later. Claudia dug down, and that scene where Morrigan tells Flemeth she'll never be the mother Flemeth was to her? That came from someplace very raw. It was devastating to witness in the booth. There were tears all around. Not long after, Claudia called and asked if maybe - just maybe - Odin could play Kieran? He was a bit young (not yet 5, then), but it felt... right? We agreed. Claudia was in the booth, gently coaching him through his lines, and I think that was the first moment I felt I'd done the right thing."

[source thread]

User: "Do you find it an odd choice that Kieran hasn’t been mentioned at all in Veilguard?" David Gaider: "If there’s less reactivity in DATV, I’m unsurprised. Continuing choice from up to 3 games earlier is… unsupportable. Yet DA established the expectation they would so… damned if you do, damned if you don’t?" [source]

User: "EA is one of the biggest game companies ever. I don't think more complex diverging plots are impossible." David Gaider: "Well, if only more writing was all it took. Sadly, it's also cinematics. Art time for all those reappearing characters you probably want to look *just* right. And let's not forget we have to test all those permutations! So I don't disagree with you in spirit, but I don't think it's the answer here." [source]

User: "is there a possibility of future kieran appearances in a book or something similar outside of the games?" David Gaider: "I'd have no way of knowing that." [source]

User: "I’m actually shocked so little people chose the dark ritual. That was basically the main reason Flemeth sent Morrigan with the wardens, no?" David Gaider: "The impression you get of what "most" players do - in almost any game, not just DA - is very different if you're online a lot. Consider here that it's not just the % of DAO players who chose the Dark Ritual, it's the % of DAI players WHO PLAYED DAO and cared to import that choice 5 years later." [source]

User: "Is there anything you wish you had done differently, in hindsight?" David Gaider: "Probably just to not ever do importing choices between games in the first place." [source]

User: "Kieran only existed in my DAI state b/c Morrigan as a mother really appealed to me. I wasn't expecting to be devastated by those scenes 😭 I guess when we complain about lack of consequences from prev choices in DAV we must also ask how MUCH are we willing to pay for those branches to exist?" David Gaider: "That's indeed it. Content directed towards reactivity would have to come from somewhere else. So essentially a shorter game overall for the sake of those hardcore fans who'd import - who would, I imagine, REALLY enjoy that... but it's a tough cost/benefit analysis to make." [source]

User: "mr gaider im gonna keep it real with you if i had to choose between my hof and hawke i would've simply passed away" David Gaider: "Right? That was the ENTIRE idea! I was very excited, and for a while it seemed possible." [source]

User: "This has been a very interesting read but I have to ask why they decided to use Stroud instead of the HoF" David Gaider: "1) Complexity of providing means for a player to build a Warden (which they did in DATV for the Inquisitor). Also spoiled the surprise. 2) We’d have needed to give the Warden a voice. Add these to the cost and it was deemed not worth it." [source]

User: "Genuine question, not a critique - but what made the OGB decision one that couldn't be handwaved as canon no matter what was or wasn't chosen? Leliana and Flemeth being around no matter what come to mind. Was OGB simultaneously too major and too minor of a decision?" David Gaider: "Flemeth and Leliana being alive were easily explainable, and we knew we were doing it even back then. Circumventing the Dark Ritual… that would be too cheap. We did talk about it, but it just felt too dishonest. Too high a price for what we’d get in return." [source]

David Gaider: "If I’d known the Well of Sorrows would only see reactivity in the confrontation with Flemeth, I’d probably have made a much bigger deal of it." [source]

David Gaider: "We could maybe have gotten past the need to "reconstruct" the Warden, much like the Inquisitor was reconstructed in DATV (so I understand), but the need to give the Warden a voice was the final nail. Too potentially disappointing for the very people who'd be excited about it, aside from the cost." [source]

[parkersgarage]

a/n:I just be throwing words together and hit post y’all, I can’t even lie.

Sevika x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned) 747 wc, little angsty but I wouldn’t cry to it (｀_´)ゞ dialogue heavy as per usual!

“Am I still allowed to say, ‘come back in one piece’” you ask quietly, watching her tighten miscellaneous screws on her arm.

Sevika doesn’t get it. Why you’re so suddenly quiet when before you wouldn’t stop yapping her ear off, or when she’d come home, you’d shout and cheer while waking up the whole damn block. But now it’s just quiet.

She hates it.

A look of disappointment crosses your face when you don’t receive any response. Your eyes have never looked so dull and lifeless before.

“I know you don’t like this,” she starts, staring at her hand. She couldn’t look at you. “I don’t either, but this is how I can keep you safe.” A hum is her only response; she takes it.

“Can you talk to me, please?” Sevika nearly bites her tongue at the plea, but you’re the most important thing in her life now and maybe forever. “I can’t read your mind, not as good as before.”

A shaky and deep sigh falls past your lips. With trembling fingers, your hand glides up her arms gently, slowly melding your body against hers. She takes you in just as tenderly, rough fingertips holding your waist while the cold metal of her hand reaches to your neck.

“It’s too much,” you confess, letting your head fall to her shoulder. You couldn’t let her see you. “All of this change, all the blood being spilled, your new employer.” Your voice gets rougher by the end, and Sevika’s heart churns at the anger in it.

Had she known how you would react to it, if she knew how bitter and angry you’d be about her joining the very force she used to fight against, would she still do it?

If she could take back joining, if she had just let it lie and die, could she?

“I’m–” the apology sits heavy on her tongue, waiting to spill out, but all that follows is silence. You wonder, did this new life mean Sevika couldn’t even talk to you?

She sighs, rubbing her forehead as you pull away from her. “I wish I didn’t have to do this just to keep you safe.” She murmured, her head cast low in an attempt to hide. “He told me as long as I work for him, not a single thing would touch your head, and that’s all I want.”

“Vika, we could’ve just left—”

“And where would you suggest we go?” She asks, cutting you off entirely. There’s a snap in her tone that doesn’t go unnoticed, one you couldn’t blame her for. Yet she sighs again, regret on her face– or rather, it was guilt.

“I get it.” You nod, sitting back– away from her. “I’m sorry.” Another sigh; it seems almost never-ending. The dissatisfaction, the hurt, everything. All because of one slight change. “I won’t complain anymore.”

“That’s not what I–” her sentence falls off her tongue when you get up. Just as you move to walk away, her fingers are quick to grasp your wrist lightly. “Don’t go.” She whispers, and shockingly, her eyes turn watery before casting downwards. “Please.”

You sink back down to your knees. Her hand still holds onto you, afraid you’ll walk away again. You can’t tell what’s going on in her head, what internal battle she’s going through, and how this change affects her.

“You should eat.” You say after a beat of silence. She only hums, ultimately leaving the thought behind as she lays her head against your chest. “You’ve had a long day, Vika.”

Her eyes shut as she focused on your beating heart. She felt bad for tuning out your voice, but this is what she needed. To hear that you were alive, that you weren’t lying lifeless in a ditch like she’d been threatened with hours ago by some goon who was less than her.

At the end of the night, after you’ve both eaten and settled for bed, she clings onto you tighter than she ever has. When she thinks you’ve fallen asleep, the tears that soak your shirt don’t go unnoticed by you. All you wished for was to turn around, wipe them from her face, and tell her it would be okay. But Sevika wouldn’t want that, at least– that’s what you thought. “I love you.” She says. It weighs you down, making you sink further and further into the pit you dug yourself into.

You wonder why it was only said when she thought you were sleeping.

can yall tell I like writing semi-soft Sevika ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

[heavyhitterheaux]

Two Little Suspects

See Me Through You Blurb

Synopsis: Y/N and her husband do the suspect challenge featuring her twin brother Ja'Marr

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: @languageho3 and @hoodharlow 💕

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Sighing as you heard the doorbell rang as soon as you had sat down at the couch instantly annoyed you. Joe was somewhere in the house and probably in his office downstairs going over film and figured that you had to be the one to answer the door.

As you approached the foyer, you could make out the tall shape of your twin brother without even having to see him face to face and quickly opened the door.

Even though he had literally been over for breakfast earlier that morning.

“So, ugly twin has returned. What do you want? Didn’t I just feed you like an hour ago?” You asked as you looked at your phone to see what the time was and he quickly rolled his eyes.

“Move your ass over so I can come in and besides that was breakfast and now I’m here for lunch.”

“Do I look like an all you can eat buffet to you?! Groceries are EXPENSIVE and you and Joe eat like yall have never seen food before in your LIVES.”

“Hmm, not to me but definitely probably to your husband. The all you can eat buffet I mean and um, so? He’s the highest paid quarterback in the league, he can afford it. Where is he by the way?”

“Minding his business which you should be doing sir. You have your own house, but no one would ever know it because you are literally here all the time. And I’m ignoring that first part.” You told him as you sat down on the couch as he sat next to you.

“I came over to see you because I was bored.”

“Well, I was about to watch a movie, but I have another idea.”

“Go on.”

“We’re doing the suspect challenge and I’m making Joe do it too because I have something to tell him. Let me go get him, actually I’ll call him because I don’t feel like walking.”

“Lazy ass. But what do you have to tell him?”

“I will put you out of my house if you don’t shut up. And I have to tell him about this.” You told Ja’Marr and showed him the picture that had been in your pocket as you clicked on Husband in your phone and Ja’Marr’s eyes went wide.

He answered on the third ring which had you confused.

“Hmm? Ignoring me, husband? What took you so long to answer?”

“Baby, I literally spent the ENTIRE morning with you besides you leaving earlier. I just wanted to look at film for an hour and I told you then you could have me for the rest of the day and it just so happens that I’m finished.”

“Good, come upstairs and pay me some attention.”

“What kind of attention? Like? Are you naked right now?” Joe asked as he whispered the last part and your eyes went wide.

“NO! Your best friend is here…. Again I might add talking about he's ready for lunch and getting on my last nerve as usual.”

“Don’t listen to her Joe!” Ja’Marr yelled and you immediately pinched him.

Joe’s laughter boomed through the phone as you could hear his footsteps coming up the stairs. Once he reached the top step, he hung up and made his way to the living room where both of you were to see Ja’Marr now deep in a bag of Doritos and leaned down to kiss you.

“Wait, where did those come from?” You asked him as he was crunching in your ear because he hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch and you didn’t remember buying any Doritos.

“The grocery store.”

“I will…. One of these days I am going to beat your ass for that smart mouth you have. But anyway everybody up and outside!”

“Why?! It’s our bye week! I want to relax!” Ja’Marr whined as Joe was just standing there.

“Because I said so and I’m the boss. We’re doing the suspect challenge.”

“NO.” Joe immediately protested and tried to run away, but you quickly grabbed him by his waist.

“YES! You are doing it and I don’t want to hear any complaints. You two outside, NOW.”

The three of you were now lined up on the pavement in your long driveway and you were up first as you handed Ja’Marr your phone to record it.

“You ready?” He asked and you simply nodded as you took off running.

“Suspect has the attitude of someone who is 6’5, but she’s only 4’11.”

You stopped running as he finished while Joe was trying not to laugh.

“AND?!?! The two of you would crumble without me. Give me that phone. Ja’Marr, you’re up.”

“Be nice to me now.”

“I’m never nice to you anyway, so why would that change? Anyway, start running.” You told him as you pulled down your sleeves because you were starting to get cold.

Ja’Marr did what he was told as you thought of something good to say.

“Hmm, the suspect claims that he comes over to see his twin sister, but is really trying to steal my man.”

“HE WAS MINE FIRST!” Ja’Marr exclaimed as you motioned for Joe to go next even though he was too busy laughing.

“You’re just another one of his groupies! Now come on, husband.”

“Here we go because I already know some wild shit is about to come out of your mouth.” He muttered and all you did was smirk at him as he started running.

“Suspect won’t let me hold it when he pees.”

“NOT YALL BEING NASTY.” Ja’Marr yelled as Joe was too busy laughing.

“Come on, babe. Just one time?!” You asked and your brother looked at both of you in disgust.

“No! And get over here because it’s your turn.”

“Make it a good one.”

“Suspect claims that she doesn’t want kids right now, but that didn’t stop her from wrapping her legs around me last night.” Joe finished and your eyes went wide.

You and Ja’Marr collectively gasped and all he did was pinch the bridge of his nose as you turned to Joe.

“No regrets, my husband is fine as FUCK. Just look at those frosted tips. I plan on wrapping…”

“OKAY, MOVING ON! SPARE ME THE DETAILS!”

“Ja’Marr don’t you want a niece or a nephew?” Joe asked him and he sighed.

“A smaller version of the two of you? I’m going to have my work cut out for me.”

Now it was Ja’Marr’s turn and he was smiling because he was waiting for you to tell Joe the news while Joe was going to record and he got into position.

“Suspect set me up with his sister and then proceeded to get mad when he found out that we were in a relationship and didn’t talk to me for two weeks.”

“AHT AHT! Because the two of you hid it from me! Nice try.”

“We didn’t hide it!” You exclaimed as Joe was getting into position for Ja’Marr to record him.

“You didn’t exactly tell the truth either. Anyway, moving on. Suspect is one of my best friends and because of him this is the happiest I’ve ever seen my twin sister even though the two of them make me sick.” As soon as he was finished Joe turned the camera to the two of you to show him leaning down to kiss you.

“Aww, that was cute. I guess you are okay, sometimes.” You told him as he rolled his eyes.

“Don’t make me take it back.” He told you as you took your phone back to record your brother.

“Suspect is the ugly twin who was found in a dumpster behind Popeyes in a back alley.”

“WE LOOK ALIKE, DUMBASS! And I just gave you a nice one!”

“YOU’RE ADOPTED! So I don’t know what you’re talking about! And I fed you this morning and that was nice of me! I could have let you starve!”

“I got one for you babe.” You told Joe and he nodded as he began to run.

“Even though suspects claimed that I don’t want kids right now, he’s in for a surprise because I took a pregnancy test two days ago and it was confirmed at my doctor’s appointment this morning. He’s going to be a father of not one, but two little Burrows.”

Joe immediately stopped and turned to you with a look of disbelief on his face.

“Are you serious? Baby, are you serious?” He asked as he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

You nodded your head and proceeded to take out the sonogram picture from the pocket of your sweatshirt and handed it to him.

He stared at it for a few seconds before he immediately picked you up and you had wrapped your legs around his waist as he was planting kisses all over your face.

“See? That position right there is why she has two in her. Good lord, I wasn’t ready for one mini version of them and now there’s going to be two?!” Ja’Marr said as he had taken your phone and was now recording you and Joe.

“They’re going to need to pay me if they want me to babysit.”

[janeyseymour]

All To Myself

requested by @schemmentisbaby

Summary: Your little girl is getting ready to go to Abbott- not that your wife's coworkers know.

WC: ~3.6k

Melissa Schemmenti, second grade teacher at Abbott Elementary, your wife, and mother to your beautiful little girl: Grace Marie. Melissa Schemmenti, a woman who rarely talks about herself, so all that her coworkers know about her is that she’s married- and even then, she wishes they didn’t know that. It’s not that she has anything to hide or like she’s ashamed of you, but after growing up the way that she did, she’s learned that keeping her mouth shut about personal information is probably for the best. The fact that people know she’s a Schemmenti holds enough weight as it is.

Your wife has been able to keep it quiet that she has a little girl due to the fact that while she is present on Facebook, and so are you, there are very few people that she has on there. The only people that she’s so graciously allowed to friend her on that social media app are you, her family (yes, Kristen Marie included), and one Mrs. Barbara Howard. Those that are present on your social media aren’t aware of the weight that your last name now holds, having grown up just outside of Philly in the suburbs. So when you post images or updates on how your life is going, it doesn’t much matter, and Melissa doesn’t mind.

The second grade teacher has been relatively successful at keeping the personal and professional lives from mixing. That is going to change though, because Gracie is getting ready to head into kindergarten at none other than Willard R. Abbott Elementary School.

“Hun,” you sigh to your wife quietly as the two of you begin to grasp the fact that Grace is going to be attending your wife’s workplace.

“I just didn’t think it was going to be happening so soon,” Melissa mumbles. “I mean, it’s like she was born yesterday, and now she’s getting ready to enter kindergarten.”

“You’re telling me,” you chuckle. “I feel like we were hearing her heartbeat for the first time, and now we’re getting ready to send our baby to school.”

“Jesus, we’re gettin’ old.”

As it turns out, Grace is more than excited to be heading to school- she’s so excited to see the place where her mother works, and she can’t wait to be a big kid. And luck just so has it that your daughter is placed in her Aunt Barbie’s class.

“I get to be with Aunt Barbie all day?!” Grace squeals out with excitement when you tell her who her kindergarten teacher is.

You can’t help but chuckle at how precious she is. “You do, but at school she’s Mrs. Howard, yeah?”

Your little girl nods her head with enthusiasm. “When do I get to go?”

“School starts in two weeks, but Mommy goes in next week,” Melissa tells your little girl at the dinner table. “And on that Wednesday, they have a special night for kindergarteners to meet their teachers and get familiar with the school.”

“I can’t wait for school!”

“Oh, but I can,” your wife grumbles so that only you can hear her.

The day before Melissa goes back to Abbott for professional development days, she’s a bit more moody than usual. Because of this, your little girl spends most of the day with you. The redhead is stressed beyond belief trying to ensure that she has everything packed into her car to take to the school for the new year. She’s focusing on meal prepping so she can just grab things and go. Her outfit for whatever reason is stressing her out more than it usually would.

“Honey,” you mumble as she stands in your closet staring at all of her shirts. You wrap your arms around her waist and set your chin on her shoulder before kissing her neck gently. She hums as she leans into your affections.

“What has you so worked up tonight?” you prod gently. “Usually you don’t care what you wear to work.”

“I just… these are the last few days where my coworkers will see me as just Melissa, not Grace’s mother,” she admits. “Reminds me I’m gettin’ older.”

“We are getting older,” you remind her. “But that just means that we’re one step closer to retirement, to having a beautiful daughter to take care of us, more years of love under our belt.”

Your wife sighs softly and cranes her neck to look at you. “How do you always know what to say to help calm me down?”

“We’ve been married for years,” you chuckle. “Practice.”

The next morning, Grace cannot for the life of her understand why she doesn’t get to go with Melissa to her new school. She’s gotten herself dressed and ready, adorned with the backpack that is just about the size of her, and her new sparkly shoes.

“Mi amore,” your wife sighs as she kneels down to pull your daughter into a hug. “Mommy has to go do boring things at the school. Trust me when I tell you, you would rather stay with Momma and play at home for these last few days.”

“But I want you!” your little girl pouts. “I want Aunt Barbie!”

“And you’ll get me tonight,” Melissa tries to placate. “And I will talk to Aunt Barbie and see if she can come over today after work to play for a little bit, how does that sound?”

That seems to satisfy your daughter who comes bouncing over to you. She curls into your arms as your wife makes her way out the door.

At work, the redhead is happy to see her work wife, but she isn’t necessarily thrilled to be back at work for the school year.

“I saw Gracie’s name on my list for this year,” Barbara whispers to her friend when she’s certain no one else can hear.

“She’s real excited to have you as her kindergarten teacher,” Melissa chuckles softly. “She’s asking for you already. I told her I would see if you could come over after work today.”

“She’ll be sick of me by the end of this year,” the kindergarten teacher laughs.

Green eyes are rolled. “I doubt that. I’m fairly certain my kid loves you more than she loves me or Y/N.”

“You know your little girl has the most love for her mothers,” Barb smirks. “And then of course for Aunt Barbie. I’ll be there.”

“And I’m going to need every hand on deck for kindergarten orientation on Wednesday,” Ava announces. “This is the biggest class to come through Abbott since the 90s.”

“No can do,” Melissa states in front of everyone. “Have business I need to take care of, and it ain’t like you’re payin’ me.” She shoots her boss a look that dares her to challenge.

The principal quirks her lips to the side before rolling her eyes and sighing loudly. “Every hand on deck except for Red Hot.”

After the workday is done, the kindergarten and second grade teachers make their way back to your house. You and your little girl are sitting in the living room reading a book when you hear the front door open and close. All thoughts of the game are abandoned when Gracie jumps to her feet and goes to the door as fast as her little legs will take her. She launches herself at Melissa, who catches her with ease. Then she’s throwing herself at Barbara, who has just barely kneeled down to embrace her.

“How’s my baby girl?” Barbara asks as she kisses your daughter’s head.

Your little girl soaks up the attention. “Good! I want to go to school though.”

“Well, that comes next week, but I’m sure Mommy’s told you about how you’ll get to come see my classroom in a few days.” When Grace nods with excitement, Barbara continues. “And I know at home I’m Aunt Barbie, but at school I have to be Mrs. Howard. Think you can remember that for me, baby?”

“Pinky swears,” your daughter holds out her pinky with a grin.

“That’s my girl,” the kindergarten teacher smiles as she links pinkies with your little girl. “Now, what are we going to do today?”

Come Wednesday, after a long day of professional development in the morning and prepping for open house on Thursday, Melissa comes home to you and your excitable daughter.

“Mommy!” Grace goes running over to the front door, abandoning her station to help you prepare dinner.

“Mi amore,” your wife sighs happily as she lifts your daughter to her hip. “My beautiful girl.”

Grace giggles incessantly as the teacher pecks her cheeks continuously. Then your wife is making her way over to you.

“My gorgeous wife,” she whispers as she kisses you softly. “You’re the best.”

“I’m making your favorite,” you tell her quietly as you lean in to kiss her again.

Grace makes a face at your affections. “Ew, moms. Stop kissin’!”

The two of you roll your eyes in a playful manner. “You know I just love your momma so much,” Melissa laughs that low laugh that you find irresistible. She kisses you again.

“Are you ready to go see Aunt Barbie and your new school?” the redhead asks gently as she sets your daughter back down on the chair you have pulled up to the counter.

“Mrs. Howard,” Grace corrects with a toothy smile as she picks up the spoon to begin mixing the salad again.

Melissa rolls her eyes and pokes your daughter in the belly. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

After dinner, your family makes their way down to Abbott. Grace clings to your hand the entire time. At the thought of going to a new school, she was excited. But now that the time is upon her, she’s nervous.

“It’ll all be okay, Gracie girl,” Melissa promises. “You know Mommy wouldn’t work here or let you go here if it wasn’t a good place to be.”

That seems to settle your daughter’s nerves just slightly, but she still remains close to you.

You and Grace walk in and head right to the little check in, knowing immediately where to go. Barbara just smiles and checks off your daughter’s name before greeting your wife who is trailing a few paces behind.

“Melissa!” you hear the boisterous voice of the principal of the school. “You said you wasn’t coming!”

Your wife just rolls her eyes and shrugs. “What can I say?”

The incoming class of kindergarteners are ushered into the gym for a quick presentation of teachers that they might come across throughout the school year. Of course, Barbara is up on the stage with all of the kindergarten teachers, but so is your wife and the rest of her work crew, as well as some other staff members that she rarely mentions.

Once that’s over with, they begin to move the children down to the classrooms that they’ll be spending most of their time in for the year. Grace takes your hand gently and guides you towards the correct line.

Abbott is a special school, you can see that just by walking through the halls. It’s filled with artwork from students, there are several plaques with various award titles on them, the teachers who are helping to guide students around are warm. Aside from the odd lingering smell, you can understand why Melissa works here and has worked here for years. 

Your wife lingers in the room under the guise of just helping out her work wife- it makes sense to the rest of the staff that she would go with Barbara. Grace finds her desk with ease, knowing all of the letters in her name. She squeals with happiness when she sees the few little goodies that Mrs. Howard left on the students’ desks.

“Momma,” your little girl tugs on your shirt. “Sit with me?”

You oblige her request with a smile, settling in her chair before pulling her on top of you. Grace brightens and gives your wife a thumbs up before beginning to color the princess page Barbara had placed there. You can’t help but press a soft kiss to your girl’s temple before looking up at your wife with a smile. She’s absolutely precious. Melissa tries to hide the fact that she was sneaking a picture of the two of you, but it’s no use. Her cheeks tint just slightly red before shrugging her shoulders with a bashful smile.

The rest of your daughter’s class settles in and is allowed to color for a few moments while Barbara and Melissa chat with parents- no doubt answering questions that will surely be answered within the next few minutes.

Your wife’s boss makes her way into the classroom, and she eyes the redhead warily before teasing her. “I shoulda known you’d find your way into Barb’s classroom.”

“Well, she is-”

“I don’ care,” Ava states. She turns to scan the room, and her eyes immediately land on you. She winks.

You have to fight to roll your eyes. It’s funny that she chose you to focus in on, but it will be even funnier when she realizes that she just hit on her shadiest teacher’s wife.

Before the principal can say anything too out of line, Barbara claps her hands together and begins her spiel about herself as a teacher, the classroom that the students will be in, and the school itself.

Grace seems more than content to sit in your lap and color quietly while Melissa nods along to the things that her work wife is saying. She knows it all already, but it’s nice hearing what will be expected of your little girl while she’s in Barb’s classroom.

“And now, while the parents are filling out the paperwork necessary for the beginning of the school year, I figured I might take the students on a walking tour of the areas in the school that they’ll be in,” the kindergarten teacher explains with a clap of her hands. “So, we’re going to practice lining up and walking in the hallways like big kindergarteners.”

She manages to line up the entire class quietly before walking them out the door with Melissa. You sigh and begin to quietly fill out the paperwork for your little girl. It’s a while before you hear footsteps come back into the room, just as you’re getting ready to write down Melissa’s name under the second guardian spot. When you look up, you expect to see Barbara, your wife, and the students in tow. Instead, it’s Ava again, and she’s looking directly at you- you can practically feel her eyes on you.

“Does anybody have any questions about Abbott?” the principal asks.

A few hands go up, but she blatantly ignores them. She points to you. “What about you, angel face?”

Your brow goes up. “I think I’m all good, but thank you.”

“Surely you can’t know everything there is to know about this school,” Ava frowns. “You have to have at least one question.”

“Not that I can think of,” you tell her. If you do think of a question, you doubt she’ll know the answer to it anyway.

“Is that little girl of yours your first one to go through Abbott?”

You nod. “But I know all about this school.”

“Oh?” Ava smirks. “You did your research?”

Instead of telling her that your wife is Melissa, you just nod. Sure, you had done your research and asked your wife about the building, but you know the ins and outs of this school- the things that go on behind the scenes. 

You think that’s the end of the conversation and start to write “Mrs.”, but she makes her way further into the room, and she stands over you sitting at a student desk.

“Where’s the wife?” Ava asks you as she leans against the desk. She drapes a gentle hand over your wrist. “Because I know someone as fine as you has one.”

You look up to her with a smirk before beginning to write down Melissa’s name.

Almost comically, the principal gasps and her hands fly to her mouth. She stands straight up. “You ain’t telling me Melissa is your wife, are you?!”

With impeccable timing, Melissa walks back into the classroom with Barbara and the kindergarteners. 

“I am,” is all your wife states as she folds her arms over her chest and stares down her boss. “Why? You got something to-”

“Bye, y’all,” Ava runs out of the classroom as quickly as she had come in.

Barbara just looks to you with the silent question of if the principal was flirting with you, and you nod subtly.

Your wife sees red for a split second before she makes her way over to you with your daughter and wraps her arm around the top of your shoulders.

“Idiot,” Melissa grumbles as she plants a kiss to the top of your head. “Flirting with my wife like that.”

You reach up a hand and lay yours gently over hers. “She didn’t know because you didn’t tell her.”

“‘Cause she has no business knowin’ about my personal life,” your wife mutters.

“She will now,” you remind her. “Grace is goin’ here now, and you know that Ava’s gonna open her mouth about it the first chance she gets.”

“Which will be once everyone is out of the school, and we somehow get corralled into helping break everything,” Melissa rolls her eyes.

It’s a bit of time before Ava makes the announcement that all families should head out of the building to allow the teachers to get home for the night. But when you think that Melissa is going to try to book it out of there as quickly as possible, she begins to help her work wife straighten up her classroom.

You know that the two of them are quite close, but it is something else to see them working together in silence. It’s like how you and Melissa work- in sync, with ease, naturally.

And then the rest of the group begins to come in, asking questions before they even fully enter the room to see you and your little girl sitting quietly on the carpet reading a book together. Okay, you’re reading, but Grace is touching each word as you read.

You pause your reading as the boisterous group comes in. Their eyes immediately go to you, and they halt their questioning.

“I’m sorry,” a shorter woman, who you can only assume is Janine, speaks quietly. “I didn’t realize you still had a student in the room.”

“They’re fine,” Melissa cuts in before anyone else can say anything. “They’re with me.”

Gregory furrows his brow. “Why would they-”

“Melissa Schemmenti, when the hell was you goin’ to tell us you have a daughter that was going to come to Abbott?!” the principal yells as she struts in. “And that your wife was fine as-” She cuts herself off at the challenging look green eyes give her.

“They’re with me because that’s my wife and my daughter,” the redhead points to the two of you. “Gracie, come say hi to Mommy’s friends.”

Your little girl jumps out of your lap and runs over to your wife, who lifts her onto her hip with ease. “I’m Gracie, and I’m five!” she holds out an entire hand for emphasis. Her smile is enough to melt their hearts.

“Oh, Mel Mel, she’s so cute,” Jacob grins as he high fives your daughter.

“Mi amore,” Melissa jerks her head for you to come over.

“Y/N,” you smile that charming smile of yours as you wrap an arm around the Melissa. “Mrs. Schemmenti, if you will.”

“How the hell didn’t we know about this now?” Mr. Johnson wrinkles his nose. “That’s a load of bull… trash.”

Emerald eyes are rolled. “Because the boss don’t look at the rosters to know who’s comin’ in.”

“I did!”

“Did you?” Janine narrows her eyes as she looks to the principal. 

Ava looks offended. “So what if I did or did not? Overseeing an entire school is hard! It ain’t my fault Melissa never told us she had a daughter!”

“You didn’t tell them about me?” Grace frowns, and she looks a bit wounded by that knowledge.

“Mommy just wanted you all to herself,” your wife promises as she dots a few kisses along your daughter’s hairline.

That seems to placate your daughter, who snuggles right back up to the redhead before yawning. “Aunt Barbie is my teacher.”

“She is,” you chuckle as you smooth down a few of her wild locks. “But at school she’s Mrs. Howard, remember?”

“Mrs. Howard is my teacher,” your little girl yawns out.

“I think it’s about time we head home,” Melissa chuckles softly. She looks to you. “Are you about ready t’head out?”

You nod and grab your purse from where Grace will be sitting next Monday. “Well, it was really nice to finally meet you all,” you chuckle out. “I know she’s in good hands here at Abbott.”

The group seems to have more questions for the redhead that is quickly escorting you out, but she ignores them and ushers you out.

Just as you’re leaving, Ava shouts down the hallway, “Girl, don’t think we ain’t talkin’ ‘bout how youse are milfs tomorrow!”

There’s a loud chorus of “Ava!” that can be heard right after. You have to hide the smile. You’re already well aware that your wife is hot.

“Momma?” Grace looks to you with curious eyes.

“Yeah baby?” you ask.

“What’s a milf?”

“Ava is dead tomorrow,” your wife grumbles.

“You love your boss, and your coworkers,” you remind her.

Melissa sighs heavily. “They’re freakin’ lucky.”

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead

[lovieku]

HANDS ON ME ⋆ 정국

𐙚 if you like what you see, baby put your hands on me.

it’s about to look like jeongguk’s birthday everyday with you.

based on this ask

from the grande series ୨ৎ

pairing: nerd!jk x popular!fem reader

genre: smut

ratings: 18+ / mdni

warnings: lower case intended, jk is inexperienced and sooo whipped, it’s his birthday!!! and he’s getting it hhhh, lowk dom!oc x sub!jk, size kink, tit play, dry humping, brief coochie play, cum eating omfg, blow job, cutest babies ever

word count: 3.9k

a/n: first thing i saw this morning was that ask, so of course i had to write this. like THANK U ANON that was such a good idea yes yes yes. hope u enjoy 🩷🩷

🏷️ perm taglist: @ceellliiinee @jaytheatiny @dolligguk @luvismenu @theyloveyams @stillwjk-channie-lixie @bookstoread199 @girlygguk @vieviela @myngiii @angelxkoo @nnybtitts08 @mpbrinkss @https-mei @lyywst @mhdelu @apobangpogirlyyy @khadeeeeej @awrkive @nooooooooonnneeeeeee @vantelover1306

────୨ৎ────

jeongguk didn’t wish for his birthday party to look like this.

the second he casually mentioned that his parents would be out of town on the very same day he would turn 21, his small friend group (consisting of the two nerdiest guys in college, probably even battling him for the top spot) took it on them to turn what he imagined would be a calm, quiet night spent with the comfort of jimin and taehyung in front of video games into a contending rival of a literal frat party. in his own house. when he never approved of it, nor asked for it.

there’s an inestimable amount of faces he has never seen before this moment, but they all seem to know him, congratulating him every time he comes in their vision. then, they go back to drinking, kissing, soft-fucking on his couch, and seemingly pumping up the volume of the music more and more with each blasting and ungraceful song.

that is probably why he’s struggling a bit more than he usually does with breathing. he’s a huge germaphobe, and having all these strangers barge into his space and lean on every possible surface with their greasy, alcohol stained hands has him close to hyperventilating.

he still hasn’t figured out how his two friends did it, but they managed to involve what looked like the whole uni into coming at jeongguk’s 21st birthday party like it was an unmissable event. it truly did seem like one, though, the birthday boy looking around in a confused awe and realizing this is all he’s ever missed from his teenage years. meh. not all that.

what really got him struggling to breathe is you. you, the most popular girl in college, talks about you on the mouths of all guys and girls in the hallways, loved yet envied by every single one of them, are here. and when you greeted him, you did so with a kiss for each of his cheeks. he stood there like he truly was going to let his lungs stop working, and you just smiled up at him through your long lashes and big eyes.

you’re not popular for the cliché reasons a girl in college might be. you’re not mean, you don’t square uncool people from head to toe with a judging look, you’re not known to be scary and unapproachable. the reason why you’re surrounded by a devoted swarm of bees is because you’re the literal definition of an angel.

an angel always ready to help anyone who seems like struggling, flash them with pearly whites, and be impossible to resist with bug, wide eyes conveying all your most honest emotions.

you’re known for genuine reasons. he’s never even heard many rumors about you, and if he did he assumed it was coming from way too envious people. the only thing he allowed himself to believe about your privacy, is that you’re very caring in bed.

he won’t admit it, feels disgusting for it, but he’s touched himself to that thought a couple of times. maybe more.

it doesn’t matter now, because you’re closer to him than you’ve ever been, and you sit in the overwhelming circle that has formed on the floor of his living room, people he has never even talked to proposing games and pushing drinks into his hand since he’s now 21.

unlike most people, that number doesn’t mean a lot to him. he’s not that thrilled about the knowledge that he can now get his hands on anything that was previously denied to him, alcohol and substances of those sorts. he never liked them, and he doesn’t think he will just because of this newfound freedom.

he’s now getting the full experience when someone, sharp-eyed and drunk on audacity, spots the wooden door to his dad’s wine cellar left slightly ajar and suggests seven minutes in heaven with the kind of enthusiasm jeongguk imagines newton felt when that apple hit his head.

on his right, jimin panics for jeongguk, “you’re not going to fuck in mr. jeon’s wine cellar.”

“who said anything about fucking?” dahye, a friend of yours, the complete opposite of you with a mean aura and sliced eyes, intervenes and has everyone laughing.

jimin rolls his eyes and plops down from where he straightened up on his knees, and jeongguk stays silent. he gave up fighting long ago, when the first drink spilled on his carpet.

he just gives a tight-lipped smile when his blonde friend tries an apologetic look, shaking his head and studying the room. jeongguk gulps when his eyes inevitably fall on yours, and he finds you already staring, an intensity he hasn’t seen often. when he’s sure he’s perfectly resembling a deer caught in headlights, you tilt your head amusedly, and he hastily focuses back down on his lap.

“well, since jimin is so afraid we’re gonna break his boyfriend’s stuff,” dahye continues, feeding off the childish chuckles coming from around her, and maybe also off jimin’s annoyed glare, “why don’t we let the birthday boy go first?”

at that, jeongguk’s head snaps up, his fluffy hair bouncing with the sudden movement, and he looks around wide eyed. he’s not sure what the game entails, he just knows something is supposed to happen, but he’s not sure exactly what the people hungrily gawking at him are expecting.

taehyung is about to add something when dahye interrupts once again, resting her hand on your lap beside her, “he can go with ___. i know that would make his day.”

sitting at her left, you’re the only one who doesn’t laugh at the sneaky implication; instead, you glare at your friend, who shrugs in response.

both jimin and taehyung fall in total silence, their eyes alarmingly looking at their friend in the middle. jeongguk seems a hundred times more panicked, but not because of the same reasons.

while his two best friends are simply excited at the prospect of jeongguk’s every dream coming true, eagerly expecting a positive answer from his mouth, jeongguk’s whole focus is on you, and your seemingly impassive face. his mind spins with haunting worries, giving at least twenty different interpretations to the way you’re looking at him, brows subtly twitching up.

he clumsily parts his lips to say something, but with absolutely no senseful thought swarming his brain, nothing comes out.

a beat of anticipated silence goes by before you gracefully stand up, all eyes following you, and even if quiet, your voice goes through the music, “let’s go, gguk.”

jeongguk loudly gulps, and he hopes the sound isn’t heard, but he doubts it since he’s receiving a scary amount of attention that goes over what he’s received his whole life.

if it wasn’t for the two guys at his sides pushing him to stand up, he would have stayed with his ass perched to the floor. instead, he stumbles and almost trips, meeting your eyes with awkward shame as you just softly smile at his gawkiness.

you don’t wait for him, daintily walking to the room victim of the game, pushing the door open and curiously peeking inside. jeongguk hastily jumps over the people sitting on the ground, still quietly observing the scene, and he’s at your side way faster than the time it took for him to even realize what was about to happen.

he exhales loudly at the proximity, standing behind you and basking in the height difference, your head barely reaching his chest, and he thinks he truly sees heaven when you turn around to look up at him, grinning delicately as you tilt your head back, “wanna go in?”

jeongguk is sure he has lost the capability to speak. no matter the sounds he tries to force up his throat, they’re not strong enough to fight their way out. he simply closes the door behind the two of you, and he’s glad when it significantly helps drown out the loud music and drunkish chatter.

he’s less glad for it when it means he’s officially left alone with you in a relatively cramped space, the silence almost more suffocating than the room and its strong smell. but he’s convinced you must be an angel when you don’t complain, not even slightly, your face the expression of composure.

he stands in the middle of the cellar while you explore it in a circle, letting your heels click on the parquet floor and your fingers carefully brush the wine bottles.

the simple action makes him feel hot, naughty mind conjuring up images of you tracing his skin with such care, and he releases a shaky breath before you can stop him, blurting his messy thoughts out, “we— we don’t have— have to do anyt—”

“sit on that stool, gguk.”

the command is anything but harsh, your voice a soft melody of calmness, but it still startles him. no, it shakes something in his chest, traveling all the way down to where he’s starting to feel a strong urge.

you point to a wooden stool in the corner of the room, which doesn’t look too high, but when he obediently goes to sit on it with his knees wobbling, you promptly place yourself in front of him and grin at the way he’s still almost at face level with you, his forehead reaching only a little under your chin.

his huge proportions compared to yours have always managed to make your head spin and thighs squeeze together whenever you managed to sit next to him in the few lectures you shared, lashes fluttering seductively to have him fix nonexistent bugs on your computer just to see his wide hand close to yours on the keyboard.

now, with his puppy eyes staring up at you expectantly, his drawn up brows only emphasizing his yearning, you need to steady yourself with hands on his shoulder to hold back from quite literally grinding on him. you whisper, “good.”

his orbs shake impossibly more, and from the corner of your eye you see his fingers fidgeting in his lap, fighting a delirious need. his legs are spread just enough for you to be standing right in the middle of them, but you push yourself further into him, his chin lifting up even higher to never be forced to look away from your firm gaze, hanging from your lips when you voice an apology, “i didn’t bring a gift, ggukkie.”

jeongguk is almost panting, the endearing nicknames only adding to the warmth of your sweet body, your vanilla scent clouding his senses and gouging the truth out of him, “th—that’s okay, ___. i—i’m very happy you’re here.”

you smile, but it’s one he’s never seen on you. it’s not one of those you flash when you’re grateful, understanding, or even amused. it’s mischievous, almost belittling. “are you saying i’m your gift?”

his eyes widen, and he’s ashamed of the way your accusative tone causes him to throb in his jeans, and in his speech too, “huh— oh my god. i’m so sorry. that must sound so—”

you chuckle, stroking his broad back with your hands sliding across his width, “hey, slow down. it sounds so very cute coming from your lips.”

jeongguk appreciates your efforts at trying to put him at ease, truly. but your soothing touch and words only have him in a state of alert, even more when your fingers travel up his nape and find home in his locks. you’re impossibly close now, and he feels your voice resounding within him, “but i’m still not satisfied. i wanna give you more, make you forgive me.”

your whisper fans over his lips, and he unconsciously parts them for you, his eyes hooded by the second and glassed over with desperate want. you smirk.

stepping back enough for his neck to rest at a comfortable angle, he whimpers deliciously at the loss of your touch, but you shut him up just as quickly when your dress is off you and on the wooden floor in a swift motion.

jeongguk is definitely panting now, breathing manually and focusing too much on having his heart pump oxygen for him rather than the view of your exposed body in front of him.

he gradually realizes he could care less about dying right now if it means the last thing he’s going to be faced with is your nipples hardening with the cool, and hopefully something else, and your lacy white panties barely covering your core.

jeongguk stares like a starved man being met with his first meal after weeks of seeking, his hands trembling on his thighs and squeezing into suppressing fists.

his gasp turns into an awfully high-pitched moan when you hook a finger under the hem of your lingerie, sliding it daintily down your legs and walking out of it, never breaking eye contact with him. only thing you’re left with are your high heeled boots.

the next thing you do has the organs that keep all his vital functions going completely stop working, his heart missing more than ten beats and catching up with an alarmingly fast speed, causing his voice to shake, “___, wh—what are you—”

swinging one of your legs, you sit on him with your ingloriously stained panties pressing right on his crotch, hands placed back on the base of his neck, basking in the way you can feel his rapid beating under your fingers.

you lean into his ear, “if you like what you see, you can put your hands on me, baby.”

jeongguk throws his head back for air, his chest heaving with trembling exhales before he finds your eyes again, and in the fraction of second he needed to look elsewhere if he didn’t want to bust in his tight pants already, you’re a whole different person.

your eyes are sliced, pupils blown and hooded, and your parted lips stretch just enough to paint a wicked smirk over your face, its effects flooding right down his stomach and making you feel his hardness through the material.

his hands dance a panicked rhythm hovering over your sides, not sure what to do, not deeming himself deserving of feeling your skin under his touch. but you take it upon yourself to guide them, pressing his palms against your hips and letting them ride up your exposed breasts.

he whimpers, fingertips unconsciously testing the sense of the soft curve of your boobs with a subtle press, but it’s not enough. you can’t feel him.

with your hands still on his, you arch yourself further into his touch and have his thumbs slice over your sensitive nubs, letting out a moan of your own that goes over his low groan. you lick your lips and struggle to find your breath and words too, but you whisper them through an already too fucked out smile, “see? you can touch me, just like that.”

the go-ahead is all he needs for him to dive his head right into your chest, his tongue catching your nipple in an unpracticed hunger, messily sucking on it and quickly leaving your skin soaked with spit. he works clumsily with his hand on your other tit, movements uncoordinated and unsure.

but the fact that he seems to not care about his inexperience, willing to learn right at this moment all it takes for you to keep whimpering and trembling when he touches, has your usually composed senses lost in a haze of desire, the need to give your all to the nerdy boy that is finally being properly touched just as he turns 21 clouding your senses and pushing you to unconsciously buck your hips against his.

he moans with his mouth full of you, his free hand gripping your thigh, and he tries to stop it but he can’t help the way he meets your grinding, snapping up as if he lost all sort of control over his body. he quite literally wails in desperation, “fuck— don’t— don’t do that. i’m gonna— oh, god.”

“you’re gonna cum?” you sound just as crazed, hips rutting at a faster speed on him, the slickness smearing all over his jeans and leaving a wet patch right where his dick stays confined.

“no! i— i mean, just give me a second, shit. i swear, i—”

“ggukkie, this is about you. i’ll make you cum, hm? how’s that sound?” the sweet sound of your promise has him seeing stars, eyes squeezing shut as he feels himself getting close to a point he doesn’t think he’s ever reached before.

until he’s back to zero.

you lift your hips off his, helping your weight up by placing your hands on his broad shoulders, and you sport a devilish smile when he opens his eyes again, protest ready on his tongue. his brows are furrowed and there’s tears ready to spill out from his eyelids, but you don’t let them.

the huge palm that was still fondling your breast is now being led by you further down, until it disappears between you. you have him cup your wet core, the intensity of the moment only heightened by your gaze never leaving his, “touch me.”

when panic flashes over his expression once again, you instruct him through it just how you did minutes before, and he quickly gets the hang of it. you always appreciated him being a fast learner, but you couldn’t imagine that it would come handy in a scenario like this one.

you hum when his ring and middle finger trace your slit, only to come up to try and find your clit in a surprisingly good attempt, “good, get all of it. make your hand wet.”

the moment squelching sounds reach your ears, you leave your seat from his lap and stand on your heels again. he whines, unknowingly reaching for you, but you halt his hand and redirect it on the zipper of his jeans. you tilt your chin, “take them off.”

he’s quicker than he was at the beginning of his seven minutes in heaven now, freeing himself from the tight pants, boxers going along with it, and his cock springs free deliciously, standing tall and proud against his tummy.

you groan, almost already falling to your knees like you are planning to do soon. it’s an adjective you don’t think you’ve ever used on any of the guys you’ve been with, but jeongguk’s cock is pretty. its pink tip matches his lips, swollen from the harsh biting, and it doesn’t look rough. it has just the perfect length, girth, and when it twitches under your awe, you see it bend subtly to the right.

you smile, meeting his face again, delirious need written all over it, “stroke your cock with the hand you touched me with,” the second the order is out your lips, he’s already working himself. you can see him trying to go at a merciful speed, his grip loose, and it makes you grin amusedly, “mh, aren’t you so obedient. let me have a taste, gguk.”

you clearly have noticed that he’s not as quick on his feet as he usually is, brain clouded, so you once again take it upon yourself to lead his hand, this time introducing two of his fingers in your warm mouth. you hum loudly around the thick digits, eyes rolling back, and you speak around them, “fuck, you wanna try that?”

you don’t wait for him to reply, knowing it would get him minutes that you sadly don’t have to formulate a senseful answer, and you simply feed him his own fingers, carefully watching the way he lets his cheek hollow around them. you chuckle feverishly, “we taste so good together, don’t we?”

he nods eagerly, eyes glassy with more tears, and you think you can see one drop at the side of his face just as you fall to your knees in front of his seated body, your pretty figure even smaller from his view, and he’s graced with your bug eyes staring up at him through long lashes.

you don’t waste any more time, knowing there’s not much left in the heaven you’ve created for your own, and you wrap your ravenous mouth around him, showing none of the previous mercy in your speed.

he lets his mouth hang open, moans uncontrollably loud, and he needs to grab the sides of his stool to get the illusion of some sort of power still left within him. he closes his eyes in bliss, but quickly snaps them open when he realizes what he’s missing.

you’re bobbing your head up and down his length, and you still manage to maintain that dainty elegance that characterizes you, slim fingers gripping around the base and making up for the spots you can’t reach. he pants on the verge of a heart attack, pitch high as he begs, “fuck. look— look up at me, please.”

you do, aligning yourself better to meet his frenzied state, eyes communicating all the words you can’t say, too engaged in having him unravel all over your lips. he groans at the eye contact, thinking back to all the times he’s seen this exact scene flash behind his closed eyelids, and he’s a fool for even believing his mere imagination could compare.

it will never be enough, never again. not after this. not after knowing what you look like as you devote yourself to him, precise movements getting him closer, the way your tongue flickers out to reach down further and how you let his tip meet the back of your throat finally causing him to snap his hips up involuntarily, and before he can say something to warn you, he’s painting your warm mouth with his cum.

ropes of white, hot liquid spill out from you, but you promptly collect all of it, making sure not a single drop is missed, gulping it down with eager want. you wordlessly smile up at him, infatuated with the way his chest heaves and his lips part, trying to regain some composure.

he thinks he will need hours to fully recover. and he’s not even sure he wants this moment to end, blurting his predominant thought out before he knows it, “i wanna make you feel good, too.”

you chuckle as you get up, quickly soothing your knees before collecting your panties from the ground and walking back inside them, “it’s okay, baby. this was my birthday gift for you, hm? besides, we don’t have much time left before the others come in.”

“but…”

jeongguk helplessly watches as you get dressed, cringing at the stickiness of your wet core but nonetheless slipping your flowy dress back on. he just had the best orgasm of his life from the girl he firmly believes to be the love of his life, and he doesn’t get to give it back. oh, he feels like an absolute asshole.

you seem to read it all simply by scanning his face fondly, words soft, “that doesn’t mean you won’t get to do that, you cute boy. you will, and soon.”

when you’re done fixing the creases over your clothes, you walk to him and help him back in his jeans. tucking his softening length in, you lift up the zip of his pants and you’re glad for the way the patch of your wetness seems to have dried.

standing between his spread legs, you brush a hand through his hair, tenderly watching the way his curls fall and tickle his forehead. you smile and whisper quietly, “i got your number from dahye. i’ll text you, okay?”

he gulps, nodding hastily at your rhetorical question and feeling the blush creep up his neck. god, he must look like a total fool, “o—okay…”

humming lowly, you press your lips to his cheek, then to the tip of his nose, “you’re so pretty, you know that? don’t be sad.” next, your mouth rests on his, molding in a kiss that has his eyes shooting wide, and that ends way before he can even realize what’s happening. you chuckle at his expression, and you can’t resist another peck before promising, “happy birthday, gguk.”

[livbedum]

i would love to learn more about maybank!reader being kidnapped by rafe like what happened? why’d he do it? when did it happen? how did his family react? did they know? how did jj and the pogues react?

GIVE ME A MINUTE

WE ARE SO FUCKING OVER!

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ summary requested!

warnings 18+ minors dni , profanity , kidnapping / drugging , violence

rafe had the fucking cross. after all that you had gone through in the day with pope nearly dying , crashing kie’s dad’s truck , john b fighting a gator , finding out jj ran into your dad , you were tired. but the night wasn’t over until you got the cross back for pope.

your eyes stayed on sarah and john b , who were clearly having a moment after their somewhat breakup. “you seriously think now is the time to talk about this?” sarah whisper yelled at him , giving him a look that called him stupid.

before jj could stop you , you headed in her direction and yanked her with you. “we have things to do. come on,” you grunted , heading towards tannyhill. when the two of you were far enough away from the boys you looked at sarah with a small smile. “he really does love you. enough to make him stupid,” you chuckled , making your way to the truck.

“i know,” she sighed , peeking into the driver’s seat, “we gotta find the keys though,” she added , getting back to business.

you nodded , not seeing them in the truck like you were hoping. “looks like we have to go inside,” you grimaced , knowing rafe was in there , knowing he would not be happy to see you like he usually was.

sarah looked over her shoulder to the boys quickly updating them that, “we’re going inside! we’ll be right back!” before ushering you into the house with her close behind. you both kept a lookout before moving too far into the foyer. “okay , i have to go find wheezie really quick— she’ll help us distract rafe. you find the keys , okay?”

you watched sarah plot for a moment on the situation before nodding in agreement. “just be safe. don’t want rafe flipping out on you again,” you warned her , holding her hand before letting go and rushing away.

the first obvious place to check was rafe’s room. you had been there so many times , it was easy to avoid the creaks in the floor on the way to his bedroom door. you had been lucky not to see anyone yet. so , quietly your hand twisted at the golden knob before cracking the door open as slow as possible.

after the copious amount of times you snuck into tannyhill , you knew better than to let rafe’s old door creak when you opened it. as soon as the opening was wide enough for you to slip in , you did , closing the door softly behind you , shutting yourself inside.

and that’s when you heard the shower stop running , making you blood run cold. now was not the time to bump into rafe. not when the boys were outside , not when sarah was upstairs , and not while he had the cross you were absolutely trying to steal back from him. that wasn’t an option.

your eyes darted around the room you were so familiar with , catching a glimpse of the nightstand that had the keychain sitting on top of it. you could still hear rafe in his en suite bathroom , so you rushed to grab the keys. they clanked against the wooden stand , causing you to cringe at the disturbance of quiet. “shit,” you cursed as they slipped out of your hand and into the floor , making even more of a ruckus as the bathroom door opened wide.

there was nothing else to do in that moment other than freeze. caught like a deer in headlights , you looked up and saw rafe standing in the doorway , towel around his hips , chest heaving and already looking down at you. you were crouched down , actively reaching for the keys again.

“what are you doing here?” oh. he’s playing it safe. he raised his eyebrows at you as he bent over , slowly grabbing the keys from the floor. he stayed low , looking into your eyes for a moment before rising completely and taking the keys with him to his dresser.

you took a deep breath and stood up , trying to gauge how this was going to go. “sarah was complaining about missing something the other day , so i thought i could come by and grab it,” you lied , watching him as he got dressed, “heard you in the shower and stopped in while i could. missed you,” you added , stepping closer to rafe before reaching out and touching his damp back.

his skin twitched under the contact. “yeah?” he chuckled , turning around with a smile, “came in here just for me?”

“what else?” you asked , matching his smile as you leaned up to press a kiss into his cheek before retreating back a few feet.

“you’re not here because you know i have the cross?” rafe questioned , stepping forward , effectively forcing you back toward his bed, “not here to steal my fucking keys? and take off with the cross that i found!” he shouted , trapping you where you were pressed against the edge of his bed frame.

your eyes betrayed you , flashing a vulnerable fear in them when he yelled. “no , baby,” you shook your head quickly just like your voice, “no , of course not.”

“stop lying to me!” again , rafe’s voice practically rattled the window panes, “you shouldn’t have fucking come here , y/n! you’re so fucking stupid. should’ve just minded your business! constantly forcing my hand to do things i don’t want to do!” he continued getting dressed , throwing a jacket on.

“rafe , you’re scaring me,” you admitted , sinking into the mattress in an attempt to get away from him.

a low chuckle came from his throat as he turned and looked at you. “this isn’t my fault,” he started, “you—“

“rafe! can you come help me pack my bag?”

wheezie.

your chest deflated , finally able to catch a breath when rafe moved his eyes to the door where wheezie was bound to walk through in a moment. “here , baby. you can have the keys to the truck,” rafe smiled , tossing the keys at you before going to the door and stepping into the hallway before wheezie got to you both.

you caught the keys , pushing yourself up off the bed and rushing to the door. the knob giggled in your hand as you tried to open it , but the locked clicked into place on the other side. “have to do everything for you people,” rafe grumbled to his little sister before you could hear his footsteps getting quieter.

“fuck! fuck , fuck , fuck,” you grumbled , hand hitting at the door, “rafe , let me the fuck out right now!” you yelled , banging against the door even harder , keys still jingling in your hand.

“y/n?” sarah’s voice came out worried and rushed through the door, “y/n/n , are you in there?” her hand tapped against the wood on the other side of yours.

“sare? sarah , i can’t get out. you have to pick the lock or something,” you explained , turning to look for something on your side of the door to help.

“okay , it’s okay,” sarah assured you, “i got you.”

you could here some sort of rattling on her end , assuming she found something to jam inside the lock to get you out. “i got the keys!” you smiled with a sniffle , trying to look at the bright side , but you knew it wasn’t long until rafe returned to his room and caught sarah this time.

the lock clicked , sliding out of place before sarah pushed it open. “oh , my god!” she breathed out , yanking you in for a hug before you both ran out of the room, “gimme the keys , and let’s go.”

you tossed her the key chain , following her out of the house and back to the truck. “what’re you doing?” you whispered when sarah kept moving to the back.

“i wanna make sure it’s still in here,” sarah explained , fumbling with the keys before finding one that fit into the lock on the back door.

“okay , well hurry it up before rafe finds both of us,” you urged her , checking over your shoulder for any sign of him. as if your words triggered the reaction , the lock undid itself , and sarah pulled the door open before stopping. “what is it?”

you moved to take a look yourself only to freeze just like sarah did , keeping eye contact with the man you saw in the truck with rafe earlier. he laid lifeless on the ground next to the cross , eyes boring into your own. “what did he do?” you sighed , assuming rafe was the one who killed the man. who else would’ve?

“you guys really shouldn’t have done that.” it was rafe’s voice that came from behind you just before you felt his arms wrap around you and a sharp pinch in the side of your neck. his hands released you , letting you stumble away as your hand reached up to you neck.

“rafe?”

he didn’t bother looking at you , only dropping the now empty syringe to the ground and grabbing sarah. you could only watch as sarah struggled against her brother’s grip , feeling time slow and your heart beat much harder than it was before. “rafe , what are you doing?” she kicked at him , but it wasn’t a fair match.

the last thing you saw was rafe dragging sarah back inside before you stumbled back and tripped. your arms flew back , trying to catch your fall , but there you laid on the ground almost as lifeless as the man in the truck.

you don’t remember anything as you wake up , but the moment your eyes open , you know where you were. the way the mattress sank beneath and around you , the feel of the silk pillow case under your head. you were in rafe’s room. again.

you sat up quickly , looking around to see if sarah was locked in with you , but you were alone. throwing the comforter off of your body , you swung your legs off the edge of the bed. “rafe?” you spoke quietly but loud enough to where he would hear you if he was in the area, “babe? what’s going on?” you called out a little louder but sweeter when you didn’t get a response.

“rafe!” your voice was louder this time , a little angrier when you realized he had left you in the room alone. “rafe cameron , let me out of this room! help! wheezie? rose!” you roared , running to the door to try and open it. you shoved your body against the wood , trying to break it down as if that would ever happen. “rafe!” you called out again far weaker than before.

catching your breath , you moved back to the bed to stabilize yourself. your head was still fuzzy with whatever rafe shot you up with. you sat down , head hanging low as you tried to think everything through.

rafe gave you a shot.

he took sarah inside.

you woke up in his room.

you were alone.

sarah wasn’t with you.

you steadied yourself again before standing up from the bed , moving to the door the bang on it more. “sarah! sarah , where are you?” you shouted , the door muffling your cries, “sare?”

there wasn’t a response. only the quiet hum of the air conditioning filling the heavy space around you. you slid down against the door , falling to the floor in defeat. you couldn’t get out of rafe’s room by yourself last time ; sarah helped you , and where did that get her?

your eyes scanned the room , catching sight of the flowers you had brought rafe not that long ago as an apology for your last fight. you apologized to him , and this is what he does next?

pushing yourself up , you move to the fireplace and grab the vase before launching it at the bedroom door. that would cause concern if your yelling hadn’t already. “rafe , let me out of here before i keep going!” you screamed , grabbing the next thing you could grab and throwing it the same direction as the broken vase and flowers. “we are so fucking over!”

by the time rafe was ushered away from sarah in the basement , you had already destroyed half of his valuables. the laptop he had on his desk , photo frames of his family and even some of you , his cologne bottles in the bathroom , and all of his watches had been thrown across the room as well.

“what the fuck!” rafe barged into the room , slamming the door behind him as he took in the sight of the floor and you, “what the fuck are you doing?” he yelled , grabbing you by the shoulders, “what the actual fuck , y/n?”

“you drugged me!” you argued , shoving at his chest, “you drugged me , rafe! and locked me in your room!” you kept shoving , hitting at him before he had enough and grabbed you. his grip forced you into the bed face down as he held you in place.

“stop fucking yelling , and stop fucking shoving me,” he grunted in your ear , pushing your body down again to get his point across, “calm the fuck down and we’ll talk.”

“get off of me!” you cried , trying to fight him , but his weight alone was enough to keep you down.

“not until you calm down , baby,” he replied, “you keep making me do shit i don’t wanna do. how is this my fault?” he asked you , lifting up enough to let you take a completely breath.

you looked up at him from the bed , eyes wide and tear filled. “you— you killed that guy,” you muttered, “you killed that guy , and you’re going to kill me and sarah , right?” you couldn’t help but let the absolute worst thoughts bubble to the surface.

rafe heard the words you spoke despite being coughed out through your tears , and he softened entirely. “what?” he moved , letting you go and sitting down next to you , but your body couldn’t move. you were frozen on the bed , terrified of what would happen if you tried to run. the only movement you could make was flinching away when rafe’s hand came up to gently move the hair out of your face.

“i didn’t kill anyone.” he said it like a fact , when you knew it wasn’t. peterkin. he killed peterkin , but you knew better than to bring that up ever again. “well , at least not that guy,” he added with a soft laugh, “and i wouldn’t do that to you , y/n. i love you ; don’t you see? i’m doing this all for you!” your eyes followed his movements as he got on his knees by the bed and laid his head by yours to look you in the eye. “we’re going away. i got the cross and sarah and you. okay , we’re leaving tonight. i just gotta take care of some things , but in the meantime you and sarah are going to go with rose and wheezie to the wharf.”

you felt his hand crawl up your back , stopping on your neck and holding you down without any force— just a precaution. “i love you , and i’m sorry , but you gotta come with. cuz i gotta go , and i can’t leave without you,” he continued , and you nodded , going along with whatever he was saying , none of which you understood.

“okay,” you croaked , nodding again.

“just need you to go back to sleep for a bit , ‘kay?” he had tears in his own eyes. he hated seeing you look so afraid of him. that’s the last thing he wanted. he was doing this all for you. he convinced his dad to let you come with because he loved you so much he couldn’t live without you. and you looked at him with fear. “love you , princess,” he whispered , kissing your forehead before standing up and grabbing something from the nightstand you hadn’t seen before.

“wait , rafe. no , no , no. please—“ your pleas were cut off by rafe covering your mouth and inserting another needle into your skin.

“okay , john b , you need to get sarah. me and pope will just y/n/n,” jj planned , huddling up with his boys before they stormed the cameron castle. only before they could break , rafe came waltzing out of the house and into the truck once again before taking off.

pope didn’t hesitate to run after the truck , hiding in the blind spot to hop on the back. jj and john b scrambled in place , not knowing to go after pope or the girls in the house , but the brake lights disappearing made their decision for them. pope could handle his own.

“wait— b , look,” jj hit john b’s arm , pointing at the scene happening in the cameron’s driveway.

rose was busying herself with shoving you in the backseat of the car , not understanding why on earth you were tagging along , but not wanting to push rafe even further tonight. wheezie followed behind , struggling to move sarah’s drugged up body by herself.

as soon as you were properly buckled and locked away in the back , rose moved to help wheezie , lying about how you and sarah wasn’t feeling too good.

“okay , well we gotta get them,” john b stated , already running after the car that had started to pull out of the driveway.

the boys banged on the windows , begging wheezie to unlock the door or for one of you to wake up and do it yourself. Rose just sped off , leaving the boys behind.

“twinkie! get the twinkie! we gotta go!” jj shouted , sprinting off towards the van so they could follow rose’s car across the island.

if you didn’t feel like shit waking up in rafe’s room , you definitely did now. your entire body was sore , head spinning , and for some reason you felt like you were swaying even as you laid down. despite not knowing where you were exactly at this time , you could figure it out if you took a moment to.

the bobbing , the salt air , the horn in the distance.

you were on a fucking boat , but you didn’t get much time to stress about it before you heard people outside your door arguing.

“rafe , you drugged her. that is kidnapping! and you made me an accomplice! for a pogue? who even is this girl?!” rose , if you assumed correctly , was clearly on your side of the kidnapping , not so much for you but for her.

you could practically see rafe roll his eyes from this side of the door. “dad , you said she could come. she’s here. she’s coming.” if the circumstances had been different , your heart would’ve swelled with pride at the fact that rafe was standing up to ward , especially when it came to you.

“not like this , son!” ward’s voice powerful as ever argued.

wait— ward?

you pushed yourself up from the couch you were laid on and moved to the door , stumbling with the waves beneath the ship. cautiously , you turned the handle and surprisingly pushed through. “rafe?”

your voice was softer than the three that continued arguing , but it still pulled them out of their conversation. all eyes were on you instantly. rose was the first to speak up. “y/n , sweetie , why don’t you go lie back down? rafe said you hit your head earlier. you must need rest.” it all sounded sweet in theory , but you knew it was all a story and fake concern.

“my head feels fine,” you snipped quickly , looking to rafe again before moving your eyes to the undead, “was hoping you were actually blown up by that boat , ward.” as much as you hated rafe for what he had done to you in the past however many hours , your blood boiled at the sight of ward. you were there for rafe when he died ; you picked up the pieces ; you encouraged him to keep going. even before his fake death , you had to be there for rafe when ward flipped out on him. every. single. time.

ward only spared you a glance before pointing at rafe and muttering a “clean this shit up , boy,” before walking away with rose.

“why the fuck did you wake up with an attitude?” rafe cursed , ushering you back into the room you were just in.

you crossed your arms and stared at him indifferently. “maybe because you drugged me , rafe. again,” you stated like he was an idiot for asking , despite knowing he hated when people spoke to him like that. you didn’t exactly care about his feelings in the moment. “you have done a lot of things to me that are awful , rafe , but this— wow , this takes the cake.”

“i did what i had to do to get you here,” rafe groaned , stepping towards you with open hands. you backed away , instinctively. “oh , my fucking god! you’re so dramatic , y/n!”

“and you’re psychotic!” you quickly yelled back , hugging yourself with your arms as you kept your distance from him, “where’s sarah? i want sarah.”

rafe sighed , running a hand down is face. “she’s with our family right now. she doesn’t feel good.”

“i want to see her.”

“she’s busy,” rafe simply denied your request, “do you want a water , baby?” you flinched as tried to step closer to you again. “y/n , seriously , knock it off,” he grunted , getting more irritated by your lack of willingness to just fucking comply with what’s going on, “everything’s going to be fine. i have it all handled. i just needed to get you here.”

you shook your head , slowly crossing the room. “no. i don’t want to be here. i want to go home , rafe. i want to call jj. please,” you asked him , tears filling your eyes at the beginning of accepting that you were in a situation you most likely weren’t getting out of, “rafe , look at what you’ve done,” you started, “look what you did to me.”

rafe didn’t listen though. he turned his head , not wanting to see the truth. he got you here. that’s what mattered. “you can call jj when we dock,” he muttered , trying to reach his hand out to you again before dropping it to his side, “but you’re not leaving until then.”

“we are so fucking over , rafe.” it was said definitively.

and it was like you were living in a loop when rafe slipped out the door and closed it behind him , when you heard the sound of a lock being put in place , holding you in the room you woke up in. your eyes stared blankly at the red , painted metal before you fell back into the couch. “i’m so fucked.”

at least that’s what it felt like.

a/n holy shit this took a minute and it isn’t proofed or anything so ignore any typos

taglist @maybankslover @annatartastic @maroonz @ravenmedows @yootvi @icaqttt @inlovewithmorales @spoiledbratspostsblog @heartsforandrewgarfield @stoned-writer

[ellecdc]

OMG CONGRATULATIONS ON 5K MOTHER!!! LY<3 Could I please request 🐻— 'one talking to the other when they think they’re asleep' with our pretty boy Remus where it's the reader talking about Rem🥹

thank you so much, lovie!! <3

Remus Lupin x gn!reader who thinks he's asleep [663 words]

CW: written with a fem!reader in mind but no gender markers used, fluff

Remus can tell that the movie has ended by the deep, definitive breath you take as the credits roll and the music plays. 

You don’t move, though, and for that Remus is grateful. It had been quite the week at work; deadlines and meetings and projects, bosses trying to cram in as much progress as they could before the Christmas break, and Remus is exhausted. 

He’d barely uttered his “hello” upon getting home before you were suggesting ordering take away and watching a movie. A quiet night in, you had called it. It sounded like heaven.

Clad in comfies and lo mein on a plate, the two of you snuggled up on the couch. Plates ended up on the coffee table, legs were tucked underneath bodies, Remus’ head rested against your shoulder.

And though the world fell quiet, Remus never did fall asleep.

He’d completely melted into the couch at some point during the movie, now curled up on his side with his head on your lap as you card your fingers through his hair. Eyes closed in contentment, breathing evened in his ease.

He loves you. 

“I love you.” You murmur softly as if you read his mind, and Remus feels his lips curve into a smile, though his body was simply too heavy to offer you a proper response. “You work too hard, m’love.” 

He would have argued with you, or dismissed you immediately if you’d said anything of the sort when he first got home, but now he was trapped and complacent in your embrace.

“Always taking care of everyone else, aren’t you?” Your fingers brush through his hair again before trailing to his shoulder and down his arm as you speak. “You take such good care of me. I wish you’d let me take care of you, sometimes.” 

He really couldn’t help it then, he turned his head so he was looking up at you, offering you a warm smile as you tsked at him.

“Not even sleeping when you should be, Rem.”

“You take great care of me, dove.” He argues quickly, rolling onto his back so he could continue staring up at you more easily. “What do you call tonight?”

“I call tonight I was too lazy to cook and then got to watch my favourite Christmas movie.” You offer wryly, and Remus shakes his head reproachfully. 

“That’s not true at all. You knew I’d had a day, and made sure I didn’t have to think about anything but sitting my arse down on this sofa.”

Your lips purse as you trace a line down the side of his face with your finger. “That was one day.”

Remus hums in the negative. “No. It’s also the way you just happen to text me everyday around noon, when I happen to be scheduled for a break but usually happen to get too caught up in what I’m doing to realise. It’s also the way you claim that you have to work early in the morning when you notice me growing weary at the pub with my friends so that they don’t tease me for my old man tendencies. It’s the way you let me drone on and on about numbers and stats and editing that I know doesn’t interest you at all, just because you know it interests me. How could you say you don’t take care of me?” 

He watches you study his face for a few moments, expression unchanging even when you finally blurt “I liked talking to you better when you were sleeping and couldn’t argue with me.” 

Remus’ laugh echoed throughout your flat before he stretched out his limbs with a pleased hum. 

“Would you like it better if I went back to sleep?” 

“Yes, thank you.”

“See? There I go again,” he starts as he rolls back onto his side and you queue up another movie, “taking care of everyone else.” 

Remus’ eyes fall shut at the sound of your tinkling laughter.

[puckinghischier]

Just sitting here thinking about how Jack would usually fuck you nice and slow, praising you the entire time and putting your pleasure before his, but one night after a really tough loss where nothing went right for him and the team, he just loses it and immediately comes home to let out his frustrations on you. Manhandling you like a rag doll, spitting on you, yanking on your hair as hard as he can, and choking you until you see stars and you'd be loving every second of this version of Jack and he'd pick up on that, calling you degrading names and mocking you for being such a dirty fucking slut that he never knew about you

WARNING!: degradation, name calling, choking

the change of pace was surprising to you, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t unleash a new preference of yours. the commanding, harsh, and derogatory nature of the entire night is something you never expected from him, but damn if there wasn’t a part of you eating it up.

from the second he got home you knew something was off. he slammed the door, threw his bag against the wall and stomped right over to you, wordlessly picking you up and carrying you to the shared bedroom. he threw you onto the bed, the large bounce you did causing your heart rate to spike.

“jack, honey, what’s going on? i don’t-“

“shut up. don’t fucking talk to me,” he interrupts you, your mouth instantly snapping shut. the look in his eyes was like nothing you had ever seen before — wild and dark.

he starts removing his clothes, standing naked in front of you before you could even blink. not knowing what to do, you start removing your sweatshirt, slowly bringing the thick material up and over your head. jack stood watching you, an expectant look on his face.

“god, can you go any fucking slower? hurry up. off. all of it, off,” he spits out as you start to grab your t-shirt, removing the fabric from your goose bump ridden body.

“for the love of god, are you fucking helpless or something? i said hurry up,” jack raises his voice, reaching down to grip your ankles, pulling you towards him harshly. once you’re sitting at the end of the bed, he grabs your shoulders, forcing you to sit up. he rips the shirt the rest of the way off of your body, throwing it across the room.

he doesn’t even attempt to unclasp the bra you hadn’t taken off from running errands earlier. instead, he tugs the material so harshly you can feel the piercing sting on your sensitive skin, feeling the plastic clasps snap apart, rendering the undergarment useless as it falls from your chest.

a gasp falls from your mouth, but it’s lost in the grunt he lets out as he shoves your shoulders back down onto the bed, gripping the waist band of your leggings as he tugs them down — along with your underwear — in a singular movement.

“now, was that so fucking hard?” he growls, pushing your ankles back up onto the bed, moving you away from the edge as he crawls onto the mattress with you.

you’re surprised at yourself, because not once during the entire interaction did you wish jack was his usual, soft and caring self. instead, you found every single harsh word and rough action traveling straight to your core. an unfamiliar warmth of arousal now stirring in your stomach as you watch him crawl towards you.

“up, on all fours, ass towards me,” he commands you, not waiting even a millisecond before grabbing your body and placing you into position himself. he starts caressing your ass, taking the soft flesh into his hands and kneading handfuls. “don’t even get it. don’t even know all the shit that happened tonight, do you?” he talks, pinching and squeezing your skin even tighter.

“tell me, maybe i can-“ you start to squeak out, but a harsh smack to your ass stops you. you involuntarily let out a sharp squeal, not expecting the action.

“when i say don’t fucking talk to me, it means don’t fucking talk to me,” jack rubs soothing circle around the red skin. “you don’t know what went on tonight. what coach said in the locker room after the game. what an embarrassment the whole team was tonight. the way the refs let us get our asses kicked all night long. so there’s nothing you can say that’ll make me feel better, you understand?”

you nod, looking back at him over your shoulder, surprising yourself when you jut your ass out further towards him, all but asking for another smack. he smirks, gladly granting your request.

he raises his hand, bringing it down even harder than he had the first time, your whole body jolting forward at the impact. your yelp sounded almost like pleasure this time, your brain going in a million different directions.

“now this? this makes me feel better. this makes me feel in control again. because i am, aren’t i? i’m in control right now. because you’re just my own personal slut, here to use as i see fit,” his voice dropped a few octaves, gravelly and thick.

before you can even fully register his words, a moan slips past your lips. you feel yourself clenching around nothing, your cunt slick with desire at whatever this new persona is coming from him.

he slides a hand down towards your entrance, interested at how turned on you seem to be by all of this. when his long, slender finger swirls around the still clenching hole, he chuckles, amused at your current state.

“you like this new side, huh? my sweet, innocent girl likes being called a slut and treated like some whore i picked up off the street, doesn’t she?” it’s more of a statement than a question. another clench of your pussy answers his question, his finger nearly getting sucked right into your sex.

“too bad this isn’t about you, isn’t it?” he clicks his tongue against his teeth, shaking his head at you, even though you can’t see him. “tonight is about me. making me feel better. in fact….” he trails off, bringing his cold fingers up to start attacking your clit, rubbing so ferociously your arms holding you up nearly give out from the friction. “…you can’t come at all tonight,” his fingers suddenly drop, your labored breaths stopping altogether as his words register.

your head whips around to glare at him, but the second you have him in your sights, you feel his cock slam into you without warning. your body lurches forward so much your nose nearly smacks into the head board.

jack pulls out almost immediately, slamming back into you with quick, full thrusts. he grabs your hips, pulling them back with each movement to meet his thrusts.

he can’t see your face, but your mouth is hung wide open in a silent scream, not being able to even think about anything but how you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

you finally let out a whimper at a particularly deep thrust, feeling one of his hands leave your hip to grab a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back. he keeps easing your head back, neck fully extended, so much so you’re now able to see his face hovering above you.

“can’t believe you’re this cock drunk already. barely even started, baby. not been a peep out of you, has there?” you want to shake your head, say something, moan, anything. but the angle of your neck prevents any of that, only allowing you to look at him with your wide, rolling eyes.

he can feel the familiar flutter of your walls, signaling your impending release. he releases your hair, but so abruptly that your face flies forward like a rubber band has snapped, chin smacking against your chest.

he pulls out, leaving you a whining, pathetic mess. he takes his arms and flips you over so you’re now on your back. taking one of your legs, he extends it up and rests your ankle on his shoulder. he stands on his knees in front of you, looking at you with anger and annoyance.

“told you you’re not coming tonight. it’s about me, not you. it’s always about you, you greedy whore. you can’t just let me have this one night, huh?” he literally spits at you. the silky string of saliva leaves his mouth, its trajectory landing right on your stomach, mixing with the sweat there. he watches the rapid rise and fall of your chest, noting the stiff nature of your nipples.

as if he’s in a trance, he brings a hand up fully slapping one breast, watching it fly over and smack the other. then repeating the action with the opposite breast.

you jolt again, whining out a high pitched moan at the feeling of your heavy tits being smacked around. he smirks down at you, repeating the action a few times, each smack harder than the previous.

once he decides he’s had his fill of playing with your tits, he trails his hand down your stomach, swirling and smearing his spit around your skin. when his gaze falls back onto your glistening cunt, he snaps back into his previous task, smirking before once again, ramming into you without caution.

thrust after thrust, he can feel himself reaching the edge, moving in and out of you with ease, watching your eyes roll into the back of your head. there was one thing, however, he wanted to test before he let himself go.

he brings a hand up towards your face, running a finger from your temple to your chin, watching you. he brings his hand to rest on the side of your throat, thumb rubbing up and down the center. “d’ya trust me?” he whispers to you, typical, soft jack making an appearance.

you nod at him eagerly, assuring him you trust him, wholly and completely. you risk breaking the rules, a small “always” leaving your lips. he looks at you with love in his eyes, but you watch as they switch, once again showing the wildness you’ve grown to like tonight.

he moves his hand slightly so his whole hands covers your throat, and he squeezes. hard.

you sputter and wheeze, eyes wide at how much pressure he’s applying, not even easing into it. but you’re not scared. if anything, the pressure building in your head is dizzying, adding to every sensation coursing through your body.

he doesn’t stop, squeezing tighter by the second. just as he’s about to let up, worrying he’s gone too far, he feels that flutter from your core once again. his sign you’re enjoying this far more than he ever thought you would. he holds his grip for a few moments longer.

you’re starting to see stars in the edges of your vision, but you’re so turned on you never want it to end. with a final, small caress of the side of your neck with his thumb, he lets go. you suck in air, actually a little worried he might have left a mark once you gain your wits about you again.

the whole time, he never stopped rutting his hips into yours, thrusts growing sloppier by the second. he leans forward and lines his mouth up to hover above your breasts, collecting a mouth full of saliva and letting it fall from his lips onto your full, bouncing breasts. and again on your chest. and your stomach. and where his dick is sliding in and out of you. then he moves back up your body, taking a hand and parting your lips, watching his foamy spit land right into your open mouth. the fluid drips right into the back of your throat.

watching you early swallow his spit, then opening your mouth and begging for more, is what does him in. he feels the band about to snap, so he pulls out of you, drops your leg from his shoulder, and moves to straddle right over your stomach.

he strokes himself a few more times, then aims his release to fall in a sticky mess all over your spit covered tits, watching the milky substance roll and drip over the fleshy mounds. he strokes himself until the sensitivity takes over, slumping down, but careful not to put all of his body weight on you.

you wiggle and writhe beneath him, trying your hardest to reach a hand down to your pulsing center, needing now more than ever to reach your own release.

jack feels what you’re trying to do, and grabs your hands, trapping them both above your head.

“what did i tell you earlier, you dumb slut?” he’s clearly not done with being an ass just yet. “only i get to come tonight. and i did. so now you’re gonna go clean yourself up, come back to bed, naked, and if you can behave for the rest of the night, you might get to wake up to something nice,” he bends down to place a chaste kiss to your lips, releasing your hands and moving to sit beside of you.

you sit up and start to get off of the bed. once you’re stood fully, jack takes the opportunity to reach over and smack your bare ass again, smirking at you when your head whips around to look at him.

“hurry up, i may be pissed tonight, but now that i got all of that out of my system, i want to cuddle,” he tells you, his tone back to your normal jack, but eyes still wild as ever.

[fratttymatty]

The Card That Changed Everything

(All characters are 18+)

Elliot Novak had always been the quintessential "nerd" in high school. At 18, he was just a few weeks away from graduating, a proud member of the debate team, the editor of the school newspaper, and a staunch liberal in a town that was a bit more on the conservative side. With thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose and a backpack full of books slung over one shoulder, he had always felt a little out of place. His friends, a small but close-knit group of fellow "outsiders," often joked that if the high school hierarchy were a pyramid, he’d be firmly planted at the bottom, right next to the chess club.

Elliot had been expecting a quiet, uneventful Friday night. But when his best friend, Max, invited him over for a game night, he reluctantly agreed. It was nothing too out of the ordinary—just a few games of Uno and maybe some pizza. What he didn’t expect was that this seemingly innocent night would change his life forever.

It started innocently enough. The group—Max, his girlfriend Lily, and Sarah from the drama club—sat around Max’s living room, laughing and talking as they shuffled the colorful cards. The first few rounds of Uno passed without incident. Elliot was his usual self: sarcastic, quick-witted, and, as always, a little too passionate about winning.

Then came the final game of the night. For some reason, the cards seemed to fall differently. He felt a strange energy in the room, a kind of buzz that seemed to hum in his ears. It was Max who had drawn the last card, and as he placed it down, there was a sudden flash of light, so brief that no one noticed—except Elliot.

The world seemed to tilt.

He blinked, disoriented, trying to shake the odd feeling of vertigo. The room appeared the same, but everything felt… different. He looked down at his hands, which were suddenly larger, more muscular, the knuckles rougher. His clothes felt tighter, almost too tight. As if on instinct, he reached up to adjust his glasses, but they weren’t there.

“What the hell?” he muttered, his voice coming out deeper, rougher than usual.

Max, still grinning from winning the last round, glanced over. “You okay, man?”

Elliot’s heart started to race as he realized something was wrong. He glanced at the mirror across the room, and for a moment, he barely recognized the reflection staring back at him. His once lean, skinny body had transformed into something broader, more defined—his arms, his chest, his jawline—all of it seemed so different. His short, curly brown hair was now dark and tousled in thick, messy curls, and his face, still familiar in shape, had lost its nerdy softness, replaced by the sharp angles of a confident, athletic young man.

He was no longer the bookish Elliot Novak. In the mirror, staring back at him, was someone new.

“Max, I don’t… I don’t think I’m okay,” Elliot’s—no, his new voice—sounded unfamiliar, confident in a way it had never been before.

“Dude, you’re acting weird. What’s wrong?” Max asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“I… I feel different,” Elliot murmured. But as he spoke, he didn’t feel the anxiety or the usual sense of out-of-place-ness he had grown accustomed to. Instead, there was something else—a surge of confidence, a sense of power. A feeling of certainty.

He was no longer Elliot Novak. He was Ethan Cole.

Ethan ran his fingers through his new head of tousled, dark brown curls, noticing how it felt different, more natural than his old look ever had. He straightened his back, feeling the strength in his spine, the ease of standing tall. He had always been awkward about his body, but now it was as if he had been molded into something new, something purposeful.

Max looked him up and down, his eyes widening. “Holy crap, Elliot, what the hell happened to you?”

The name Elliot felt wrong in Ethan's mouth. "It’s Ethan, man. You know, like… the name that suits me," he said with an easy smirk, not understanding why he was suddenly so at ease with himself. A new sense of self-assurance flooded his veins, and he felt an overwhelming desire to flex his muscles, to show off this newfound strength.

"You're acting weird," Max muttered, unsure what to make of this transformation. But Ethan was already adjusting to his new life.

He looked at the game of Uno, now discarded on the floor, and the realization hit him. It was the game, the card. It had changed everything, even his very identity. But rather than panic, he felt a strange sense of… relief.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn't miss being the old Elliot. Being Ethan felt right. His thoughts began to align with his new persona—no more arguing about social justice issues, no more complicated liberal viewpoints. No, now he saw things clearly. The world was about competition, dominance, and personal achievement. It made sense. Everything made sense.

And the people around him? They weren’t so different from him anymore. He gave Max a friendly clap on the back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, bro. But we should hit the gym sometime, huh?”

Max blinked in surprise. “Uh… sure, man. That actually sounds good.”

But something in Max had shifted too. His posture straightened, his eyes narrowed with sudden focus, and an unexpected grin spread across his face. “Yeah, you’re right. I could use a solid workout. We should start lifting.”

As if by magic, Max’s transformation mirrored Ethan’s. His body began to tighten and firm up, his once lean frame now more muscular, shoulders broader, chest more defined. His hair, always scruffy, seemed to grow thicker, more styled—almost like it had a purpose now. He gave Ethan a playful shove. “Maybe I’ll even beat you at this gym thing.”

Ethan grinned. “You can try.”

The two exchanged a knowing look, as if they were already bonding over something bigger than just physical strength. It was a new world, one where power and confidence ruled. For Ethan, it felt like a natural fit.

As the evening wore on, Ethan felt something else—something different in the air. Kassie, Max’s girlfriend, had been sitting on the couch, watching their interactions. She was the type of girl who didn’t usually give Ethan much attention. But now, there was something new about him—something magnetic, something that drew her in.

She looked him up and down, her eyes lingering on his broad shoulders and the way his new curls framed his face. She smiled slowly. “Ethan, right? I’ve gotta say, you’re looking good.”

Ethan felt his chest puff with pride. “Thanks, Kassie. You’re not so bad yourself.”

She laughed lightly, a flirtatious edge to her tone. “How about we grab a coffee sometime? You and me?”

Ethan smirked, feeling the newfound confidence flood his veins. “Sounds like a date.”

By the end of the night, Ethan had fully embraced his new life. He wasn’t just a jock in body; he was a jock in spirit. His new persona felt like home. Kassie was his girlfriend now, Max was a jock too, and together they would rule the school.

The old Elliot, with his liberal ideals, his anxiousness, his nerdy quirks—was nothing more than a distant memory.

Ethan Cole was here to stay.

[poisonsage808]

Rescue

Scar x Reader

warnings: language, choking, ooc? WE DON’T KNOW HIM AND IT’S A CRIME I DID MY BEST

“You saved me,” you whispered, your voice hoarse and your throat irritated with you for speaking after all that smoke you inhaled.

Scar just shook his head.

His brows were pulled together as they usually were, making him look angry— as he usually did. Ekko could make him grin, though, and some of the children. When they weren’t trying to “borrow” the hoverboards, that is.

Scar had been here longer, he was the lieutenant of the Firelights for fucks sake, but you both knew rules and risks. Every time your team went on a mission there was a chance someone might not come back, and those chances only got higher with every success. He knew the risks of turning around after the grenades came to life.

Ekko’s blend was his own creation, designed to destroy only shimmer. Even the ones you used on people were only for detaining, not killing. So when they turned and saw black smoke spewing from the broken window of the airship, it was an enormous sign something went awry. Awful as they may be, the Firelights didn’t celebrate the deaths of their enemies. On the way to the rendezvous point Ekko called out his headcount to no one, it seemed, because Scar wasn’t there to hear it like he should’ve been.

Even from miles away he heard you gagging and coughing. For a moment Scar thought he heard the rapid thump thump thump of your heartbeat. He later realized it was his own. The mask did fuck all to help him see with the thick, black cloud. He relied solely on your fading sounds to guide him. You were smart, crawling in your attempt to find the exit. In one fluid movement, he chucked a grenade at the opposite wall and snatched your body off the ground. Crystals erupted and made the wall easier to smash through. The newer and bigger hole allowed the smoke to escape in heaps, hopefully saving a few more lives.

Scar’s hands trembled at the memory. Angry, he was always so angry. Every time he looked at you and saw your busted eye, thought about how terrified and lost you must have felt, shit, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. At least you looked better now than when he handed you off to the medics. He had visited every day since then and had no intention of stopping. He crossed his arms to stop the tremors.

You managed a weak, and rather pathetic, smile for your knight in dark armor. One minute he’s afraid you won’t make it and the next you’re sitting in front of him, bruised and chipper. It’s endearing. It’s twisting his heart in opposite directions.

“Thanks anyways.”

Truly, Scar would have done it for anyone here.

Still, he couldn’t deny that you were a special case. Your thanks meant more to him than you knew. Perhaps… this petrifying occasion could be the wake up call he didn’t know he needed.

~

come hangout with us and talk about arcane (and more!) on [discord]

[subcultureblues]

Don’t You Want Me (Baby?) Pt 3

———

Steve and Eddie are either hooking up or dating - and are about as bad at keeping a secret as they are dealing with their feelings. (Dustin POV)

1 / 2 / 3

———

“I’ll be there in thirty!” Dustin said. He slammed the phone down and dashed to his room to round up his notes.

“Bye mom love you gotta go!” He shouted as he hustled out the door and jumped on his bike. Dustin had just made it out of the suburbs and into town when he spotted a familiar Maroon Beemer in the lot by the Quickie Mart.

Steve was standing beside his car in a fluorescent windbreaker, leaning on the open driver’s side door. He was staring at the bouquet of flowers in his hands like his nose was about to start bleeding.

Dustin slowed.

….He could probably spare a few minutes to see what the hell that was about.

Really, it’s been a while since Dustin made peace with the fact his curiosity would almost invariably get the best of him.

“Hey Steve!” Dustin hollared, dinging his bike bell a few times.

Steve startled, comically jerking to attention. As a thoroughbred jock, Steve could be ever so slightly air-headed at times. But that usually didn’t extend to a total lack of situational awareness.

Steve waved at Dustin as he approached.

“Why are you angry at those flowers?”

“What? I’m not - “ Steve cut himself off with a sigh. He shot the flowers another grimace. “I’m just trying to decide if I’m being a total idiot right now…”

Ah, Dustin realized. Must have pissed off Robin.

“What happened?”

“I fucked up, I think. And flowers, that’s my go-to right? That’s the move. But…” he tapped above his temple with the side of his fist - as if to dislodge the stupid. He rested it there for a second. “I can’t help but think I’m becoming totally neurotic.” He said, vaguely concerned.

“Girls like flowers.” Dustin offered a simple shrug.

“Yeah, girls do.” Steve agreed. Then sighed again, shaking his head distantly.

Jesus, he must be gone bad.

And Dustin likes Robin. More importantly, he liked her for Steve, they were a perfect match. But most importantly of all - if Steve fucks this up, Dustin spends the next who knows how long listening to him complain about his endless strings of unfulfilling dates.

“And red roses? Can’t get more romantic than that, right?” He said, trying to sound encouraging.

“You don’t think they’re… I don’t know. Lame? Christ, what the hell am I even - I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing here.” Steve groaned, sounding totally defeated. He dragged a hand through his hair, displacing his artfully styled do. And too distracted to even notice? Dustin was very nearly starting to get worried. “Never mind forget it. Just, forget I said anything…”

“Who even is this guy? Your Steve.” Dustin scoffed. “Legendary lady killer of Hawkins High. Remember? You’re great at this.”

““Yeah, that’s different though. I guess... I don’t know.”

“Different how?” Dustin demanded.

“How about because this is important. That’s how!” He said.

“Ok? That’s a good thing, Steve.” Dustin said, which even to his own ears sounded just a little bit demeaning. Maybe he did need to work on his tone…

“Is it? The last time I really thought there might be something there, it was Nancy. So of course, I manage to fuck the whole thing up. Because that’s my thing I guess.” He deflated. Then quietly, as though speaking to himself, he said. “Things were going so good too… I just had to start a stupid - “

He finally looked back up at Dustin. He closed his mouth and the far away look cleared. He shook his head, like was done thinking about it right now. Or at least done talking about it because he said,

“Henderson, what are you doing running around this early anyways?”

“Pft, what are you doing running around this early? You and Eddie. I’m surprised you’re not sleeping off your… illicit activities.”

Steve made a face. “No. Don’t call it that. I - we… called it an early night last night.”

“Figures. I’m headed to Eddie’s right now.”

“Ah...” He muttered to himself. He looked down at the flowers again and his shoulders wilted. Then he chucked them into the the passenger seat.

“Woah, man, careful with those.” Dustin scolded him.

“No, it’s fine. Look, I gotta go pick up Robin soon. We have a shift together later. See you around, man.”

Dustin frowned. Why were adults so goddamn weird? Is Dustin gonna start acting like this in a few years.

“Good luck.” Dustin offered, tilting his head optimistically. Steve just waved him off, still very obviously distracted.

“Yeah, I’ll figure something out.”

Dustin watched him climb into his car. Steve would figure it out. Dustin had faith in that, at least. He could have a thick skull, but give him enough time and eventually he got it together.

Steve drove off and Dustin started pedaling again, in the opposite direction, towards the Forest Hills trailer park.

Dustin was at the trailer almost till dinner time, fine tuning what will soon be the very first one shot, nay the very first D&D session Dustin will ever orchestrate. He can’t help violently oscillating between excited and nauseous, but Eddie’s advice genuinely did provide a solid foundation to work with.

Eddie even assured Dustin he’d act just as shocked as the rest of the party, gasping during the big moments. Stuff like that - even though he knew pretty much every story beat he had planned just from helping Dustin sort it all together.

They were just packing up to leave when the phone rang.

“Shit. Give me a sec. That’s probably Wayne.”

“He’s not at work?”

“A buddie’s house. He got the weekend off.” Eddie said, picking up the receiver.

“Munson’s Mortuary Services. You got the purse, we got the hearse. Are we picking up or dropping off, cause - ” Eddie cut out mid bit. He grimaced, looking back at Dustin. “I - uh, hey. Look this really isn’t a good - “

Dustin was only really half ease dropping as he tried to order his session notes correctly. Eddie was talking quietly for the first time in his life, holding the receiving close to his mouth, which was making it kind of difficult.

“No, it’s fine… I’m serious, it’s fine. Yeah, I’m sorry too…. Well, I was being an asshole. Look this really isn’t a good time…” Eddie glanced back over his shoulder at Dustin. Dustin tried to look busy. “Just, don’t worry about it, seriously…. Yeah. Sure, talk to you later, ok?” Eddie started to move the phone away before bringing it back to his ear.

“This week? I’m not sure… Maybe. I’ve just - I got a lot of stuff going on… I’ll call you… Yeah, bye.”

Eddie hung up, hand lingering on the phone for a long moment.

“Who was that?” Dustin asked, so casually it was probably immediately suspicious.

“Funny how you think I won’t make you walk home.” Eddie said, a bone dry threat. That roughly translated to, it was definitely totally my secret girlfriend. “Pack your shit, dude. I’m calling Wayne so you better be ready to go by the time I’m done.”

It seemed like Eddie took it to heart what Dustin said about them never hanging out anymore. That week, Eddie really seemed to be making an effort to start making time for him again.

And the rest of the party of course.

On Monday, Eddie suggested Hellfire (plus Max!) hit the arcade after school. He didn’t give them any quarters, but that was fine, they had enough loose change to have a good time. They’d just need to plan ahead and bring Steve next time.

After school on Tuesday, Dustin called to see if Eddie wanted to keep working on the one shot. Which he couldn’t cause Corroded Coffin had band practice.

So instead, he invited Dustin tag along. It came with the strict stipulation he kept his mouth shut, his ass glued to the couch, and he not try to touch anything, on pain of a swift and merciless death. But Dustin’s come to understand Eddie’s threats have a lot more to do with his penchant for dramatics than any honest hostility.

Eddie was just heading out the door when Dustin called so he said he’d come grab him from his place on the way to Jeff’s.

Dustin thought for a moment about changing out of his pun-derful shirt but ended up scrapping the idea for time.

He kind of regretted it when Eddie rolled up. Music loud and looking, as always, too cool for school. Summer was still fading, so he was wearing a loose, faded Cult shirt with the sleeves cut off. He had more tattoos than Dustin realized (all of them ugly.). There was a red flannel tied round his waist and he was wearing a thin leather bracelet.

Dustin couldn’t pull off a leather bracelet in a million billion years probably.

“Little mans sitting in on practice tonight.” Eddie announced as they walked into Jared’s garage. He got a scatter of hey’s and what’s up’s.

Dutifully, Dustin belined it for the couch. He sat next to the plastic Halloween skeleton that was already sitting there posed to watch (Dustin was introduced to him as Manny).

Eddie seemed to switch into DM mode, someone had to keep the boys focused and on track.

Dustin sat still and didn’t touch anything, which was easy enough.

But come on, their music was way too awesome for a passive listening experience.

Gareth, Jared, and Jeff seemed to appreciate his enthusiasm. Still, Dustin made sure to keep distractions to a minimum. A reasonable minimum, at least.

“God, you guys are just so - “ Dustin rambled. It had gotten dark outside and they were started to pack up their gear.

“Metal?” Eddie said, winding up his guitar chord with a smile.

“Metal as hell.” Dustin agreed, standing and walking over.

“We’ll make a public menace outta you yet.” Eddie said proudly.

“You can always bring the kid around more during practice.” Jeff said to Eddie. The rest of the band nodded around and shrugged.

“Actually having a live audience every once in a while couldn’t hurt.” Gareth said, nodding his head at Manny. Him and Jeff were dragging his drum kit back into the corner of the room.

“Yeah?” Dustin asked, grinning.

“Maybe you’ll pick up a thing or two.” Eddie grinned back, shoving at him a bit and fucking up Dustin’s hair.

“You’d teach me?” Dustin asked, swatting him away. Eddie shrugged easily.

“Oh man. That’d be so cool!” He said. “Maybe next time I could bring some of the other guys? Oh, and Steve could come too!”

Jared practically choked on his instant laughter.

“The King?” He said sarcastically. “Yeah, sure - you wanna bring King Steve here, to sit on the ratty couch in my garage and listen to us thrash around and scream for a few hours?”

“I dunno, could be pretty entertaining.” Gareth elbowed Jeff, nodding down towards Eddie. He was on his knees, focusing intently on tucking his Warlock away in its hardcase. Gareth leaned in closer and whispered. “He’s getting a little too cocky with those guitar solos, don’t you think? Could use a chance to play under pressure.”

“Oh, that does sound entertaining.” Jeff snickered, just as amused by the prospect.

“Can it.” Eddie said, without looking up.

“Eddie?” Dustin insisted, looking to his DM for backup. They were talking like Steve was gonna march in here and just start heckling. Or throwing tomatoes at them or something.

“Sorry kid, they’re right. He’d probably hate it.” Eddie shrugged.

“Come on, it’ll be cool! I could at least ask? You don’t know he’ll hate it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure Steve Harrington would think our heavy metal band is so totally cool.” Jared said flatly, as he leaned over to grab the handle on his bass amp.

“Hey. I saw a Metallica tape in his car the other day!” Dustin said to Jared. Jared’s eyebrows climbed, surprised. Maybe even a little impressed, though clearly too stubborn to admit it.

Dustin turned back to Eddie. He was still expecting him to come to Steve’s defense. But he stayed quiet, barely a part of the conversation. “Come on, I thought you two were friends now.” He accused.

“Sure, Harrington’s fine.” Eddie shrugged.

“Yeah he is.” Jeff muttered under his breath. Gareth puffed up with a badly contained laugh.

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Right, you blow us all off to go to go smoke weed with him at the drive through, but he’s just fine.”

Jared, who had been bending over to put his amp against the wall, froze in place.

“No fucking way.” Gareth’s head shot up, his eyes blown wide. But it didn’t sound like he was pissed at Eddie for crossing party lines. Not with the massive, disbelieving grin on his face. “You and Harrington? You fucking took him to a drive through?”

“What movie was it?” Jeff shot out, equally delighted.

“Was it a scary movie?” Gareth said. They both scrambled out from behind the drum set, their task wholly forgotten.

“Guys.” Eddie huffed. “Fine. Yeah, ok, we went to go see a movie - So what?”

“And you just, what!? Forgot to mention it?”

“Sure!” Eddie grimaced. He shrugged defensively. “We just - caught a movie. It’s not a big deal.”

Gareth barked out a laugh. Like that, that right there, is the funniest thing Eddie’s ever said.

“Guys.” Jared looked at Jeff and Gareth pointedly, before glancing at Dustin.

“Sorry it’s just…” Jeff paused with his mouth open, incredulous. “Didn’t know you guys hang out now.” He finished. “Ya know, outside the whole - coparenting.”

“We don’t.” Eddie said, tensely.

Dustin frowned as he watched the guys continue to stow their shit. Gareth and Jeff went back to sorting out the drums. “Not a big - “ Gareth scoffed under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief.

The rest of the boys were struggling to contain shiteating grins and Eddie was just pretending not to notice.

Dustin had never known these guys to be such… jerks. Why would it be such a big deal if Eddie and Steve were friends?

Could it really be all because they’re just so - different? The idea of hard rocker Eddie kicking back with a jock even once was just patently absurd? Ridiculous enough they jump straight to teasing him for it?

Dustin’s frown deepened. For a bunch of freaks, that all seemed pretty judgmental.

These guys would come around on Steve. Seems like Dustin would just have to make sure of it.

On Thursday Eddie agreed to pick him up from school.

He was late of course, so Will, Mike, Lucas, and Max had all started towards home by then.

When he did roll into the parking lot, it was in a sweeping wave of orchestral heavy metal.

“Pick it up.” He said impatiently, as Dustin opened the door. Eddie evil eyed the school building while he turned down the music. “Don’t like being here any longer than I need to be outside D&D hours.”

Dustin hopped in. He had a VHS copy of Jaws in his hands. He had left it behind at Lucas’ like two weeks ago and promptly forgot about it. A week later Lucas brought it to school and Dustin had only just re-unearthed it from his locker today. It was daunting just thinking of the fees that were sure to be stacking up by now.

His only salvation was Steve. Who’s thankfully working today.

“I need to drop this off at the movie store and before you say no - “

“Sure.” Eddie said, already starting the van.

“I - that was easy.” Dustin sat back and relaxed against the seat.

Eddie kept his eyes on the road and shrugged.

“I was thinking about renting something anyways.”

They drove straight to Family Video. The door dinged as they walked in.

Robin was sitting behind the counter. Still focused on her crossword she said, “Hi, welcome to Family Video, can I help you find - Oh, hey guys.”

“Hi Robin!” Dustin said, walking up to the counter.

Eddie lingered by the displays. He traced a finger over one of the tapes on the shelf. “Harrington, here?” Eddie asked, inspecting the cover.

Robin rolled her eyes but she was smiling. “You just missed him. It was seriously slow today and he won rock/paper/scissors so - he clocked out early for the day.” Eddie hummed and put his hands in his jean pockets.

Dustin handed Robin his VHS tape.

“This is eight days late.” She frowned at the computer.

“So - “ Dustin said, thinking fast to distract her from errant thoughts of late fees. “how’d you like the flowers?”

“Flowers?” Robin scrunched up her nose at him.

“The flowers Steve got you?” Dustin blurted out before he clamped his mouth shut again. She squinted at him. Suspicious.

“What are you on about?”

Shit. Steve hadn’t got those for Robin had he?

“Nevermind.” Mayday-mayday. Pull up!

Hopefully Steve wasn’t too pissed at Dustin for letting that little detail slip. And Dustin could barely feel bad for blowing Steve’s cover because, what the hell Steve?

Robin’s lip twisted. She looked down her nose at him, regarding him uncharitably. He forced a smile as she stared him down for a moment longer. Then her face cleared. Raising her eyebrows innocently she turned back to the monitor.

“So about that fee. That’ll be five fourty-“

“Ok! I - “ Dustin hesitated. Sorry Steve - that was five dollars he really did not have. “I don’t know. I ran into him a few days ago. And he’d just bought a big thing of roses.” Dustin caved, shrugging and holding his palms up defensively.

“Ooooh.” Robin’s eyes crinkled with a warm smile and her gaze slid somewhere behind Dustin shoulder. Then quickly snapped back into place.

“Oh.” Robin said again. She looked baffled, like the implications of that just hit her and clearly didn’t sit with her right.

“Maybe they were for his mom? His parents are in town aren’t they.” Dustin offered.

“You know what? Yeah, that’s probably it.” Robin nodded vigorously. The poor, love struck girl just immediately latching onto the explanation.

“Nah.” Dustin turned around to look at Eddie. He was still feigning intense interest in that copy of An American Werewolf in London. “His mom is allergic to roses.”

“That doesn’t mean he - ” Robin scrambled. “Maybe he just… forgot, or something. I mean, you know Steve. Total ditz.”

He shrugged. “That’s fine isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I mean, yeah.” Robin said cautiously. She seemed confused more than anything.

Eddie said cooly, hands still in his pockets. A perfectly neutral smile on his face. “Steve’s a free agent, right? He’s free to play the field.”

Jeez, did Eddie have to be so blunt? What ever happened to letting a girl down easy?

“Uh…” Robin said, looking between the two of them uncomfortably. Like maybe she didn’t quite know the answer to that anymore but it was also something she really didn’t want to sort out in public.

Dustin honestly felt a little bit bad for her. Sure they both always say they’re not dating, but clearly she seemed none too thrilled at the idea of Steve going around giving another girl flowers.

Dustin had hoped with the way Steve was talking the other day, he had finally got his head out of his ass and was ready to go public and make them official.

“Hey, man, I’ll meet you in the car, yeah?”

“Sure.” Dustin said.

“Eddie - “ Robin said. Eddie looked over his shoulder, lingering half way out the door. Robin glanced at Dustin. “Uh. Bye.” She finished lamely.

He smiled at her. She didn’t smile back.

Robin went back to the computer. She worked in complete silence. Suddenly the thick clack of the keyboard and the low murmur of the movie on the screen in the corner were way louder. Her brow was set like it gets when she’s stuck on a troublesome crossword.

“Sorry.” Dustin said, his face twisting up with guilt.

Robin glanced side long at him.

“I can talk to him you know.” He said.

“Huh?”

“I can talk to Steve. He shouldn’t do that to you.”

“Jesus, for the last time. We - are not - dating.” Robin said through gritted teeth. She made a frustrated noise. “Do you have to be so… ergh, meddlesome.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” He lied, taking a step back.

“You need to stay out of your friends love lives.”

Yeah well, how about Dustin stops meddling when his friends stop being so dumb about everything. Till then they’ll just have Dustin to thank for sorting out their messes.

Tag List : @reading-archieves @homoerotictangerine @bingbongsupremacy @aroseandherthorns-blog1 @wheneverfeasible @travelingtwentysomething @ineffable-monster-romancer @laughingphantoms @gregre369 @rawrx3ky-txt @thespaceantwhowrites @blcksh33p1987

@the-legal-shipper @maverickricky @i-amthepizzaman @pretend-theres-a-name-here @steddiefication @that-one-gay-crow @gleek4twd

@theintrovertedintrovert @tinyplanet95 @queercrisis2003 @awkwardgravity1 @stripey82

@sofadofax @midnightskeeper

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@samsoble @depressed-freak13

[dissapointu]

may i pretty pretty please request a healer!reader with ekko? like as the few traine medic in the hideout she's well versed in most kinds of injuries amd illnesses and ekko would just be in awe of them (lowk distractin her the fact he's wounded) but reader clocks that a mile away but plays along the bit anyways 🥺🥺🥺

(i need more love for my boy 🥺🫶🥺🫶)

healer!reader interacts with Ekko, and he tries to distract them despite being injured:

He needs more love. I agree 100%

————————————————————————

“Don’t worry, Ekko. I’ve got this.”

You said it with a steady confidence, your hands moving effortlessly over the medical supplies in front of you. You were one of the few trained medics in the hideout, and while most of the others could get by with basic first aid, you had seen your fair share of injuries—enough to know exactly what you were doing.

But of course, Ekko wasn’t making it easy. As you bandaged up his side, where a deep gash had appeared after a particularly rough skirmish, you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes kept flicking to your hands, the way he’d casually nudge his body closer to yours despite you having plenty of space. He was clearly trying to distract you.

“So, uh… you’re, like, really good at this,” Ekko said, his voice uncharacteristically light and teasing. His tone carried that playful edge that always seemed to slip in when he was trying to sidestep something.

You glanced at him, arching an eyebrow as you continued working. “I’m not new to this, Ekko. You’re not the first person I’ve patched up.”

His lips curled into a small grin, and he shifted on the table, deliberately stretching his arms out as though to demonstrate how ‘comfortable’ he was. “Yeah, but you make it look so easy. Like… it’s just natural for you, huh?”

You barely suppressed a smirk. “Well, it’s my job, Ekko. It’s what I do.”

But you knew the game he was playing. The way his eyes lingered on you, the way he made small talk when you were trying to focus—he was stalling, trying to make this moment last longer. His usual bravado was gone, replaced by a vulnerability he didn’t often show.

“I mean, you are amazing at this,” he continued, leaning back a little and looking up at the ceiling with a somewhat exaggerated sigh. “Like, not only are you super smart and capable, but you’ve got the whole… healer vibe. You know? Very soothing.”

You paused, your hands on the bandages, and narrowed your eyes. “Are you really trying to distract me right now, Ekko?”

His face turned a shade of red that you had to suppress a chuckle at. “What? No! I just… I’m just… you know… appreciating how good you are at this. It’s impressive.”

You smirked, catching his playful, slightly flustered expression. “Yeah, well, I can’t finish until I make sure this is all done right.” You applied a final wrap to his injury, pressing gently and ensuring everything was secure before giving him a pointed look. “Now, stop trying to distract me and let me finish.”

Ekko leaned in closer, his gaze softening despite the playful tone he’d been trying to keep up. “You know, I think I could just lie here all day if it meant I get to listen to you talk,” he admitted quietly, his earlier teasing tone slipping away.

You chuckled, carefully adjusting the bandages and checking for any signs of further injury. “You’re lucky I care about you, Ekko. Otherwise, I might just leave you here to suffer through your own flustered rambling.”

Ekko raised an eyebrow, leaning into your touch as you finished. “Hey, I’m not rambling. I’m just… appreciating the person who’s keeping me from bleeding out, that’s all.”

You met his gaze, your fingers brushing against his skin as you applied the final layer of bandages, ensuring his wound was properly treated. “Well, if you keep distracting me like this, I might start charging you extra for the therapy session.”

He chuckled, the familiar mischievous gleam returning to his eyes. “Guess I’ll just have to keep distracting you, then. Can’t let you have all the fun.”

As you finished the last few touches, you stepped back, looking at him with a small smile. “All done. You’re lucky I’m here, you know?”

Ekko sat up, his movements now much more fluid than they had been before. He gave you a genuine, soft smile that made your heart skip a beat. “I’m the lucky one, (Y/N). Thanks.”

And for a moment, despite his usual cocky charm, you could see it in his eyes: the deep admiration, the unspoken gratitude, the way he truly felt safe in your hands.

I hope this gave you the fluff and love for Ekko you were craving! 🫶💖