#wanna shake him around and toss him into a pool

[xob1tchs]

just thinking abt older miguel x younger reader (smut 17+)

age gap! dark concept!

𖦹꙳࡛࣪⋕ ˚.✦ ⵢ₊˚.

you’re his best friend’s daughter, who he watched grow from an awkward teen to a young woman.

until puberty hit, and everything changed. no longer wanting to be around miguel or your father, prancing around like you’re better than that – than hanging out with family.

you grew up much faster than he’d hoped you would and sooner rather than later he’s loosing you to parties and dumb college boys (not like you were ever actually his) that he obviously thinks aren’t good enough.

no more wanting to spend Friday evenings snuggled on the couch, watching a scary movie. no more splashing around in his pool, shrieking out when he tosses you from the ladder. it all came to a stop.

you smiling at him or wishing him a good day coming to a halt, and he begins hearing your father complain of your behavior almost everyday. he’s getting sick of it, wishing you’d just be a good girl again. he tried to tell your father that you need punished, but he’s not having it – he swears it won’t do any good. that you’ve grown up too much.

miguel isn’t oblivious to what a young woman in college does. he was your age once, he knows. knows that your frame filled out, and that your legs grew longer, eyes got shiner, pouty lips got poutier. he just tries not to think too hard about how other men know that as well. and don’t get miguel wrong either – he feels like a creep for staring too long, looking where he shouldn’t. you look up to him.

or atleast you did.

but he’s also not an idiot, and he knows that when he’s not looking at you – you’re looking at him. chewing your lip, thinking things you probably shouldn’t, because that would just be wrong. it would be so so wrong.

it’s miguel who knows that it will do good. a simple plan really, to catch you alone, corner you and scare you into being a better daughter. miguel knows he’s a scary guy, that not even you can see past.

a late evening, one where your father is working late, and you don’t have to study. miguel is going to do it then, slipping in through the front door quietly, padding up the stairs to your bedroom.

that’s when he sees you doing something you definitely shouldn’t be.

your bedroom door is cracked, because you think you’re alone, and it’s just enough for him to see you – pillow lodged between your thighs, face screwed tight in pleasure, hips jumping and squirming. Your shirt is longer than it should be, but it’s caught on the curve of your bare ass, revealing it to his wide eyes.

He knows he should just silently retreat, go home and try to pretend like this hasn’t happened, he really does know it. but he stays put.

in a trance, length growing hard in his boxers with every stupid little incoherent plead you let out, squeaking and whining. you’re begging into the air, please wanna cum, please please. frail frame shaking and twitching. he just can’t seem to stop watching, drool pooling at the back of his throat, swallowing thickly.

you gasp out, thighs clamping tighter around the pillow, clearly approaching an orgasm, but you force yourself to stop, chewing your bottom lip. miguel thinks for a moment that maybe you can see him somehow, but that thought diminishes when you toss the pillow to the floor, falling forward, pressing your face into the mattress, legs spread wide, ass high in the air.

he can’t breathe when he sees it – your soaking pussy, screaming for him, creamy and puffy as if you’ve been at for hours.

you slip two fingers in your hole, moaning out, toes curling. the noises you make when you start thrusting your small fingers in and out, gushy and obscenely loud, make him hot. sweat building at his hairline, cock twitching in his pants.

and as if it can’t get any worse, you say it. what he’d been imagining you do.

“miguel please, need it so bad mi vida” you croon, muffled by the bed sheets, but clear as day in his ears.

“hmmm what does my sweet girl need” he coos, clicking his toungue, sucking a breath between his teeth to suffice the nerves building in his stomach.

you pause, face twisting around to see him as he trudges into your room, glowering down at you with shame. your pussy clenches around your fingers, wetness seeping out around the knuckle, and you whine.

your fingers spread your folds, letting him see your greedy hole as his hands come to spread your cheeks, shuddering at the sight up close.

“want you to fuck me, want it so so bad”

he hums, fingers ghosting over your slit, flicking your clit “since you’re begging so sweetly” he smirks.

you behave better the next day.

𖦹꙳࡛࣪⋕ ˚.✦ ⵢ₊˚. severely unedited! pt.2 here

[uluvjay]

First time for everything-Q. Hughes

Quinn Hughes x fem! Reader

In which Quinn lets you ride his face!

Warnings?; SMUT, oral (obvi), cursing, kissing, talks of sex, sorry for any errors I missed!

Day seven of my kinktober special!

You were never one to tell about your sex life, it had always been something that you liked to keep to yourself but tequila always did make you tell the truth.

Standing at a table with the wags, bored out of your minds while your partners played a round of pool a round of dirty never have I ever started at your table.

“Never have I ever sat on someone’s face” one of the girls spoke up, everyone around the table dropping a finger-besides you.

Everyone’s eyes snapped to you, jaws dropping open in shock as you kept your finger stayed up.

“Y/n you’ve never been eaten out?” One of them asked, face full of seriousness.

You blushed at her words, “I’ve had someone eat me out..just never sat on their face.” You laughed awkwardly.

“Girl! you’re telling me you and Quinn have never tried it?”

You felt your cheeks get even hotter at the mention of your boyfriend, there was no doubt that you two had a busy sex life but you two were pretty set in your routine.

“No, what’s the difference?” You questioned.

You proceeded to sit in silence for the next few minutes as everyone went around explaining how much better it is, how you good it feels to grind down on them.

The conversation was abandoned a few minutes later as some of the guys made their ways over and inserted themselves.

Later that night you found yourself lost in your thoughts on the ride home, thinking about if Quinn would want to try it or how he’d feel.

Getting into the apartment Quinn plopped down on the expensive couch a sigh of relief to finally be home as his social battery was long drained.

His eyes popped open when he still hadn’t felt your body next to his or even heard you move, “What’s wrong?” He asked softly.

“Nothin-“

“Don’t say nothing, you’ve been quiet since we left the bar.” He cut you off, sitting up to give you his full attention.

“I-me and the girls were talking about something..and it just got me thinking.” You shrugged.

Shuffling over to him you moved to straddle his lap relaxing into him as his arms wrapped around your body.

“Did someone say something rude?”

“No No, it’s about..sex” you knew your cheeks were bright red at this point but there was no going back now.

“Oh?..” Quinn drawled out hinting for you to continue on.

You laughed to shake the nerves before continuing, “we were playing never have I ever and the topic of sitting on someone’s face came up..and I never have.”

Quinn didn’t need you to tell him that seeing as he’s the only man you’ve ever been with he knew your body and your experiences like the back of his hand.

You didn’t miss the smirk that tugged at his lips at your admission knowing he was doing his best to keep his words to himself and allow you to keep talking.

“..And I’ve been thinking about trying it. If you’re okay with it.” You spoke locking eyes with his dark one’s.

You shivered as his hands ran along the outside of your thighs and under your short skirt that he’d been eyeing all damn night.

“You wanna sit on my face baby?”

“Mhm”

You watched in amusement as he tossed his Yankees hat across the room laid flat against the couch.

He didn’t waste anytime before pulling your body higher up his positioning you so you were hovering over his mouth.

His lips kissed the skin of your thighs, teeth nipping the skin lightly pulling small gasps from your plump lips.

“Knew you didn’t have any panties on.” He scoffed as his eyes found your bare cunt under your blue skirt.

You moaned as his breath met your cunt the teasing breath he blew towards your glistening folds sending shivers down your spine.

“Ready?” He asked softly.

“Yes, please” you whimpered.

Quinn didn’t have to be told twice before he was lowering you to his mouth, the initial contact causing your hips to buck slightly only for your clit to catch on the tip of his nose.

Your hands flew to his dark locks as his arms circled around your thighs to pull you ever closer soft vibrations of his moans flowing to your center.

His tongue moved in mysterious ways, going from shapes to his name whatever he knew would have you shaking on top of him.

“Fuck Quinn.” You moaned body slumping forward your arm shot out to grip the back of the white couch while the other was still tangled in His hair.

It was so good but so fucking dirty, your hips moved on their own accord as you pretty much humped your boyfriend’s face.

Quinn didn’t mind one bit as he was lost in his own little world eating you like you were his last meal, he could already feel his chin dripping with your juices and there was no stopping him.

He kept going until he was about to pass out only pulling back for a sharp intake of air before going right back to work, basking in the way your moans floated throughout the small living room.

His nose was something he found himself being insecure of when he was younger and it still bothered him from time to time but after feeling the way you rubbing yourself against it desperately he’d never worry again.

The pleasure was flowing throughout your whole body making it harder and harder for you to hold off your quickly approaching orgasm.

“Quinn! I’m close.” You cried out breathlessly chest heaving as you continued your movements back and forth.

You could feel the man below you manage a nod-his way of telling you to cum for him.

And all it took was a few more strokes of his tongue before you were shaking on top of him, your mouth dropping open in a silent scream.

Quinn grunted at how hard your hands pulled at his hair the pain mixing with the pleasure he was feeling from knowing you were getting off.

He let you go for a second allowing you to catch your breath but just when he felt you attempting to pull back from his face he dove back in.

“Fuck!” You squealed at the unexpected sensation the mix of his tongue and previous orgasm sending shockwaves through your body.

Quinn moaned at the taste of you the sweetness of your juices and cum filling his mouth as he continued to fuck you with his tongue until he brought you to another orgasm.

Only when he felt your legs give out did he let up, releasing his grip he allowed you to move back down his body.

Once he finally sat back up he pulled you into a dirty kiss you could taste yourself on his tongue, your juices that coated his chin and surrounding areas spreading onto your face.

His eyes were dark when he pulled back, a look you’d never seen before in them. He looked like a starved man that was ready to eat you over and over again.

“Feel good?” He panted pulling you into his side.

“Good is an understatement, we’ll be doing that much more often.” You blushed.

“Fuck yeah we will.” He agreed.

-

[corroded-hellfire]

AYW req if you'd like: while Reader is pregnant with Eliza, she starts getting more prominent stretch marks on her stomach & boobs & stops letting Eddie see her naked. Eddie rectifies that situation hehehehe

This was honestly so fun to write! Love featuring the kiddos but these two also need some alone time hehe 💜 @munson-blurbs and I hope you like what we've come up with

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (she's already pregnant but you should still wrap it up), semi-public sex, pregnant!reader, oral, f!receiving, breeding kink, body image issues, older!eddie, dad!eddie

Words: 3.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The late June day is sweltering as you step out of the Harrington’s house and into their backyard. The placid blue water of the pool looks refreshing and calm—or it will, until the kids get in. Luke quickly jumps in alongside Theo and Danny, the three rowdy boys immediately splashing each other and then whining about being splashed. Ryan and Natalie are decidedly less hyperactive, taking care to watch baby Amelia where she kicks herself around in her purple mermaid floaties. 

Nancy makes herself comfortable on a lounge chair a few feet away from the one you’re making your way towards. Normally you can keep up with everyone else, still being in your second trimester, but this heat has you moving slower and feeling crankier than usual. 

You can’t help but notice the way Nancy looks in her bathing suit compared to how you feel in yours. Nancy’s had four children and looks stunning as always as she lays back in her black one piece. You feel shoved into your navy suit, like every little stretch mark that mars your skin is on full display for the world to see. 

Trying to shrug it off and enjoy the invitation from the Harrington’s to have a pool day, you make yourself comfortable on your lounge chair and adjust the pale pink coverup you have on. Eddie stands near the foot of your lounge chair, shielding his eyes from the sun as he looks out at the children in the water. Your eyes feel glued to his lithe frame as he strips his shirt off. The pale skin that’s left on display practically has your mouth watering. It doesn’t matter that you’ve seen him naked countless times, your eyes still roam over his torso and the beautiful works of art he has inked on his skin. 

As Eddie rids himself of the Black Sabbath shirt, he notices the way you’re gawking at him. A smirk quirks up his handsome features and he playfully tosses his shirt at your face. Your hormones this second trimester have been no joke. The moment Eddie walks through the door after work you’re jumping on him. Your husband swore you were going to wear him out before this baby was born. Not the last week or so though, now that Eddie thinks about it. Maybe those particular horny hormones have been fading to make room for whatever new batch comes in for the third trimester. 

The sound of little feet kicking too hard beneath the water of the pool approaches you and Eddie, and you look up to see Luke swimming over towards the edge. He grins up at the pair of you, shaking the water from his curls like a dog just out of the bath. Bright blue eyes land on you and they’re doing a pretty damn good impersonation of the puppy dog look that Eddie gives you when he wants something. You know what Luke is going to ask before he even opens his mouth. 

“Wanna plaaaay with us? Please?”

Giving him a frown as you squint beneath the blazing sunlight, you shake your head. “I’m super tired, bud. Growing a baby is hard work,” you tease. You’re not technically lying—when you’re not jumping Eddie’s bones or concocting weird new food combinations, you’re sleeping— but no one needs to know that’s not the reason you don’t want to get in the pool. 

“I can play with you,” Eddie offers his son. He takes a step towards the pool and is ready to dive in when Luke wrinkles his nose up in disgust.

“Nah, I’m good,” the little Munson boy says. 

As you bring your hands up to your mouth to cover up your laughter at your son’s remark, Steve claps a hand on Eddie’s bare back.

“Gonna need some ice for that burn?” Steve whoops. 

“Shut up, Harrington,” your husband grumbles in response. Eddie takes a seat near your legs at the edge of the lounge chair. His hand finds your leg and he rubs up and down your calf, always needing to be touching you in some way. Physical comfort is something you both love to give and receive from one another, which calls for a lot of soft rubbing or absent-mindedly drawing patterns on one another’s skin. Now, Eddie’s touch is having a calming effect on you, though he didn’t even realize there was something you’re uneasy about. Your body language must change as he relaxes you though, because he tilts his head to the side as he gazes at your face.

“You feeling alright, baby?” he asks.

“Yeah, just tired.” 

If Eddie had any follow up for that, he doesn’t get the chance because Amelia kicks her way over towards Luke in the pool and hangs onto his shoulder when she’s close enough. Her hand almost slips from his wet skin, but Luke manages to catch the little girl before she can float too far away. 

“Uncla’ Eddie!” Amelia calls once she’s clinging to Luke again. 

“What’s up, Little Red?” he asks his favorite ginger niece. 

“Come in, come in!” Amelia cheers. 

“At least somebody wants me in the water,” Eddie says with a pointed look at Luke. “Anything for you, my darling Mia.”

A few minutes after Eddie’s joined the kids in the pool—who also convince Steve to come in—Nancy comes over to you, noticing how everyone else is in just their bathing suits and you’re seemingly putting on more articles of clothing. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you answer too quickly, nervously tucking your lips into your mouth. 

“Bullshit,” she counters, crossing her arms over her chest. “I have four kids; I can smell a lie a mile away.”

“Seriously, Nance, I’m fine.” You muster up a small smile, but she sees right through it, and you know it. 

You have your nose buried in a book, unaware that Nancy is reaching over the side of the pool to give Eddie’s ear a tug. 

“Jesus H. Christ!” he yelps, rubbing the affected lobe. “What was that for?”

“Go talk to your wife,” Nancy says through gritted teeth, obviously irritated at having to spell it out for him. “Marco Polo can wait.”

As Eddie attempts to get out of the pool, Amelia grabs his leg and tugs. Your husband lets out a soft chuckle and picks the small girl up.

“I’ll be back, Mia.” He presses a few kisses to the top of her wet, red hair and sets her back in the water. 

Over the top of your book, you see Eddie sauntering towards you. You slip the book back into your bag and tug your cover up tighter across your body. 

“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” he asks with a smirk. “Besides that bun in the oven.”

“Just relaxing,” you say. 

“If you’re just relaxing, why did Lady Harrington threaten my life to come over here? And why aren’t you in the pool?”

The only answer you have you don’t want to tell him. And you’re not going to make up some lie to get him off your back. Eddie deserves better than that and you would never treat him with anything less than the utmost respect. That doesn’t mean you want to tell him the truth, though. You swallow embarrassment as you mutter, “I gotta pee.”

Eddie doesn’t let you get far without him though, he’s hot on your tail as you walk through the back door into the house.

“Can you please tell me what the problem is so I can at least try to fix it?” he asks once the screen door is securely closed behind him.

Silence is his only reply as you walk up the stairs to the second floor. You’re obviously upset, and your husband can’t relax until he knows what’s bothering you.

“Sweetheart, what’s the problem?” he asks again.

You stop short and spin on your heel to face him. As Eddie tries to read your face, he’s not sure if there’s more sadness or anger there. Either way, he wants to make it go away. He’d do anything. 

“This is the problem!” you say, gesturing towards your boobs and stomach. 

Eddie looks at you for a moment, brain trying to comprehend whatever it is you’re talking about. He shakes his head and gives you his response. “If I keep looking at them, this is gonna be a problem, too.” He motions to his crotch.

“I’m serious!” you yell in frustration. 

“I am, too!” Eddie says, raising his eyebrows. “Don’t forget how I got you pregnant in the first place.”

“Oh, so I can blame you for this mess?”

Eddie wrinkles his brows. “What mess?” He knows you would never refer to your baby that way, so he’s even more confused as to what you could mean.

“The stretch marks, Eds!” you lament, throwing your arms up in exasperation. “They look like an angry toddler drew lines all over my body.”

Understanding clicks inside Eddie’s brain. Why you’re so covered up. Why you didn’t want to go into the pool. But how could you ever think anything about your body wasn’t absolutely beautiful to him?

“That’s why you haven’t been all over me the past few days,” Eddie says as the realization hits him. “I thought maybe it was those horny hormones, or whatever they’re called, fading. But you…you think there’s something wrong with having stretch marks? Baby, no. It’s just your body making more room for our little sweet pea to grow. They’re beautiful, sweetheart.”

Believing him is easier said than done. You want to believe him, but battling the insecurities in your head is not something you’ve conquered yet. Now you just stand there and fiddle with the hem of your coverup, not knowing what else to say or do.

Eddie sighs and gently takes your hand into his. 

“Come with me. I wanna show you something.” 

Eddie leads you into the upstairs bathroom and shuts the door. He positions you directly in front of the mirror above the sink and stands behind you. Slowly, he moves your cover up out of the way to reveal your growing bump, stretch marks dotting the sides. 

“How on earth could you think anything about this is a problem?” he asks, his hands barely grazing your skin as he admires your tummy. “Look at you. Gorgeous bump. Cute little stretch marks from where our baby is making herself comfortable inside of you. It’s incredible, princess. Your body is literally growing a person and you’re mad at it because there are a few lines appearing on your skin?” He gives an incredulous laugh as he turns you around to face him. “Jesus, I mean, see what just talking about it does to me.” One large hand dwarfs your smaller one to press your palm to the hardening bulge in his swim trunks. 

You roll your eyes. “Please. The wind blows the wrong way and you get a boner,” you rebut. 

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Eddie says with a small groan. “Don’t say blows when I’m hard like this.”

“Can you be serious for two seconds?” Your temper is already short from the heat and the pregnancy, and his blasé attitude only makes it worse. 

Eddie cradles your cheeks in his hands. “I love you. And I love your body. I loved it before you were pregnant, and I’ll love it after, but watching you carrying our baby…fuckin’ does it for me.” He bites his lower lip as he drinks in the sight of you. “Goddamn, you look fuckin’ gorgeous like this.”

You think back to when the two of you first got together, when he’d made what you’d assumed was an offhand remark about knocking you up. Maybe it wasn’t as out of left field as you’d thought. 

As if he can read your mind, Eddie’s lips press soft kisses down your neck as he murmurs, “always dreamed about getting you pregnant. Would’ve done it a lot sooner if I’d known you’d be this sexy.” He runs a finger along a stretch mark that curves down your stomach. 

“H-How much sooner?” Curiosity asks the question for you as your back arches slightly from his touch. 

“That night,” he confirms, knowing he doesn’t have to elaborate further on what night he means, “but your stupid birth control pills ruined all my fun,” he adds with a teasing smirk. 

“They were so stupid. Sh-Should’ve stopped taking them the second I saw you.” Your voice is still timid from the emotions coursing through you, but Eddie can tell you’re finally letting him in.

Eddie throws his head back. “Fuck, baby. You got me all worked up.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” you tease, hands sliding up his wet chest and over the sparse hair. “What should we do about that?”

Eddie whines and leans in, nipping at your neck. 

“You know, I wasn’t a big fan of this bathing suit anyway,” you tell him. “The faster you get it on the floor, the faster you can be inside of me.”

Eddie gets your coverup and bathing suit off in record time. It would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t so turned on. His swim trunks go next and then Eddie is lifting you up onto the bathroom counter. There’s not much time to admire his fully naked body before he gets down on his knees in front of you. You wind your fingers through the hair on the top of his head and he looks up at you with wide, hungry eyes. That look alone has you practically dripping for him. 

Eddie keeps that eye contact with you as his hands force your legs further apart and he licks a broad stripe up your folds. You’re the one to end the staring contest when the pleasure overwhelms you and your eyes flutter closed, throwing your head back. It knocks against the mirror, but you’re too caught up to notice if it hurt or not. 

On the next swipe of Eddie’s tongue, he keeps going up so his tongue is trailing the swell of your belly as well. He presses hot kisses against your bump as he works his way back down again. He repeats the motion, next time taking time to either kiss or run his tongue along the stretch marks. The physical sensation feels amazing, but paired with the way Eddie is making you feel emotionally with his tender touch is making your heart thump even faster. 

Every little movement of his makes you feel more cared for, more cherished, and sexy. He’s built you up so high that you have to give a little tug on his curls so he pulls his mouth away from your pussy.

“Need you inside. Now.”

“Anything for the woman carrying my baby.”

You pull his mouth to yours and moan against his tongue as you feel his hands roam your body. His touch soothes over the areas of your breasts where you’ve memorized the stretch marks before moving down and caressing the ones on your stomach again. 

Eddie’s hands slide up to your hips and give a quick squeeze. He gently lifts you down from the counter and spins you around to face the mirror. You brace your hands on the counter as Eddie trails soft kisses up the side of your neck.

“Want you to see how fucking hot is when I fuck you like this,” he whispers in your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver throughout your body. 

You spread your legs, but Eddie wants them farther apart. He nudges them with his knee while he rubs a hand up and down your spine. He fists his cock a few times, making eye contact with you in the mirror as he does so. The way he’s looking at you has you whimpering and whining in anticipation.

Your noises make Eddie smirk, and he lines himself up with your entrance. As he pushes in, one hand snakes around your body and rests firmly on your baby bump. 

“Fuck,” Eddie groans. “I’ll never get over how fucking perfectly we fit together.” He punctuates his statement by tilting your chin slightly upwards so you have no choice but to see yourself in the mirror. You watch as he disappears inside you, your body obeying his every command. 

When you rock your hips back against his, Eddie slips his other hand around you to rub circles on your clit. His middle finger finds it easily, slipping through your soaked folds and pressing against the sensitive bud. The feeling is too much; you have to bite your lip to keep from screaming out—the last thing you need is the Harringtons hearing your pathetic whines. 

“God, I wanna fill you up so bad, baby,” Eddie hisses, snapping into you furiously as he takes in the view of your body; the view of you watching your body. “Shit, I’d make you pregnant twice over right now if I could.” 

“W-Would you always keep me pregnant if you could?” you manage to ask between gasps and whimpers—both yours and Eddie’s. 

“Fuck,” Eddie growls. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. “I’ll go buy a damn farm right now to raise all the babies I want to put in you.”

His words make you laugh, which has you squeezing around Eddie’s cock. He moans, drawing you impossibly close against his bare chest. 

“They’re babies, not sheep, Eddie.”

“Still need the space to run around,” he muses, making you laugh again.

“I love you so—-oh! So, so much, Eddie.”

 He’s ridiculously hard inside of you, fucking into you like his life depends on it. “Shit, I love you too, princess.” His middle finger makes more frantic circles around your clit, throwing you over the edge. “You’ve got a fuckin’ vice grip today, holy shit,” he breathes, willing himself not to finish too early while still being acutely aware of his surroundings. 

Your fingers dig into the countertop as each thrust brings you closer to your orgasm. “Right—right there,” you pant, fighting back a moan. “Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop.” You come, aided by his magic fingers and your raging hormones, with a soft whine of his name. 

“‘M right there, shit, you’re the best little fucktoy,” he grunts. The hint of degradation has you clenching around him again; of course, he immediately takes notice of it. “Y’like that? Y’like being my pregnant little fucktoy? Knocked up with my baby and still beggin’ for more?”

“Y-Yes, sir,” you stutter, smiling at the reaction your response brings. 

Eddie’s pistoning his hips into you, whispering directly in your ear, “So good, so fucking good f’me. Gonna come so deep in this little pussy, mkay? Gonna keep you pregnant, just like you want.” 

With a guttural groan, he spills into you. His breath is hot on your shoulder blade as he stays inside, not wanting to withdraw right away. You’re not complaining either, until—

“Are you two finished in there?” Steve’s irritated voice beckons from the other side of the door. Your already sweaty body heats up even more, realizing you’ve been found out. Something about it is also oddly hot, but it’s not the best time to think about that with Eddie still inside of you and Steve on the other side of the door. 

“Just a sec!” Eddie calls back, giving your earlobe a gentle nibble as he pulls out, scooping up the cum that’s dripping down your bare leg and stuffing it back into your pussy. “Had to clean you up,” he murmurs with a salacious grin. 

The two of you put your swimsuits back on and fix yourselves as best as you can before Eddie opens up the bathroom door. 

Steve just rolls his eyes, barreling past you as he mutters, “Dammit Munson; you already got her pregnant. Relax.”

[fxrmuladaydreams]

the sensible decision (sv5) (dr3)

pornstar!seb x camgirl/pornstar!reader , pornstar!daniel x camgirl/pornstar!reader

summary: although your heart is split between decisions, your mind finds the sensible one easily

notes: i promised you guys seb was going to have to grovel and grovel he will

prev part next part

You don’t know why you expected to wake up with a clear answer, with an obvious sign that told you who you should choose. You don’t want to look at your phone, afraid of a text from either of them asking about the other.

You do manage to avoid your phone for the most part of the morning. You make your breakfast, shower, get ready for the day, but the nagging in the back of your head is incessant. You groan when you finally do grab your phone and look at your messages.

From Seb

Last night was fun schatz. If you still want to do a livestream together I’d like that

You sigh and text him back.

To Seb

I don’t know if I’ll have the time, I’ve been spending so much time with Daniel lately

Yes, it’s a low blow, but you know it’s what he deserves. You leave your chat with Sebastian and open your chat with Daniel.

From Daniel

How is it possible that you made me miss you after only being gone for a few hours? And that livestream was pure torture sweetheart

You smile at his message, practically giggling.

To Daniel

Well I think the torture is just what you needed after what you did to me in our video

You see him typing, then his message pops up.

From Daniel

I’m pretty sure you asked for it sweetheart

You can practically hear his voice. His Australian accent with a teasing tone, it sends a thrill through you.

To Daniel

Wanna hang out today? I don’t have any plans, and if it’ll make you less lonely I’m willing to sacrifice my time for you 😉

His response is almost immediate.

From Daniel

Sure sweetheart. Come over to mine whenever. And bring a swimsuit

You find a cute bikini that you think Daniel will like and pack a bag for your day. You pack basic pool items, sunscreen, a book, a towel.

You drive over to Daniel’s house once you’re finished getting ready. He greets you at the door in a dark blue sweatshirt and green swim trunks. He gives you a toothy grin as he pulls you inside.

“Hungry?” He asks.

“No, I’m alright, thank you though.” You tell him, but your stomach grumbles in protest.

“I’ll make us some lunch.” He says.

You follow him to his kitchen and take a seat on a stool he’s got at his bar top. You watch as he gathers a few things, from his cupboards and fridge. He asks what kind of sandwich you’d like then gets to work putting it together for you. He passes you a glass of water with your food once he’s finished.

He slides onto the stool next to yours with a sandwich of his own.

You glance around his kitchen. It’s a good size, the bar top you’re sitting at is fairly large with a few seats down to the end. You know his living room is quite big as well.

“So what do you do with all this space? What do I have to do to get on the guest list for all the ragers I’m sure you throw here?” You nudge him with your elbow.

He laughs and shakes his head. “Trust me, there are no ragers.” He takes a sip from his glass. “I want to be able to have people over. I like the idea of being able to hang out, spend time with the people I care about.”

“That’s really nice. I’m sure they appreciate it.” You smile and nod.

He looks down at his lap as if he’s hiding from you. “Well I haven’t really found them yet, so…”

“What do you mean?”

“With our line of work it’s hard to figure out who actually cares about you, and who just wants something from you, you know?” He looks over at you.

You know that feeling all too well. “I do.”

He hums and takes a bite of his sandwich.

You lean closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder. “Well, then I’m happy to be the first one here.”

He smiles softly as his cheeks flush a soft pink.

Once you finish your lunch, Daniel guides you outside to his pool deck. You toss your bag on one of the lounge chairs and pull the dress you’re wearing over your head to reveal your swimsuit.

Daniel can’t take his eyes off of you. Sure he’d seen you in much more compromising positions, but this, with the lack of a camera, felt intimate.

“See something you like Ricciardo?” You ask him, winking.

Oh, two can play at that game. He thinks as he tugs his sweatshirt off, tossing it onto another lounge chair.

You can’t help but stare at his bare torso. The tanned skin becomes taut when he stretches his arms. His swim trunks riding up to reveal a gorgeous tattoo that had been peeking out on his thigh. You notice he’s got tattoos scattered everywhere. Some on his arms, his legs, even his hands.

You have to hold yourself back from stepping forward to run your fingers along the designs.

“See something you like sweetheart?” He smirks.

You scoff and dig around in your bag for your sunscreen. Pulling it out you turn back to Daniel. “Help me put this on?”

He takes the bottle from you and empties pours some into his hand. He massages it into the skin on your back and shoulders. You can feel just how big Daniel is as he stands behind you, practically looming over you. His hands cover a good portion of your back, and his thick fingers fiddle with the flimsy strings holding your bikini together. You remember just what those fingers can do as you let your eyes flutter shut.

He steps away from you once he’s finished, taking his warmth with him.

You finish applying the sunscreen on yourself and lay out on your lounge chair. You pull your book out of your bag and open it with the full intent to read, but you can’t stop yourself from watching Daniel in the pool.

The muscles in his back flex as he does laps around the pool, his arms look deliciously strong. He keeps swimming around and around for a while, before he groans and swims over to the edge of the pool.

“You know, I thought you’d actually end up in the pool with me.” He says.

You sigh. “I’ll sit on the edge, is that enough for you?” You ask giving him a teasing smile.

He lets you get comfortable on the lip of the pool as he stands next to you, looking up at you. The sun sits perfectly behind you, creating a glowing effect, giving you a halo.

“Happy now?” You ask.

He grins as he wraps his arms around your legs and pulls you down into the water. You both end up submerged, you cling to him as you struggle to regain your sense of balance. You gasp when you come up from the water, giving him a smack on the chest.

“What the hell Daniel?” You shout.

He’s laughing too hard to give you an actual response. You can’t tell if he’s got tears running down his face or if it’s just the water dripping from his hair.

“You should’ve seen the look on your face!” He manages to get out in between laughs.

“It’s not funny! I could’ve drowned and died!” You try to pull away from him, crossing your arms over your chest.

He quickly reaches out for you and grabs onto your thighs, easily pulling you up and wrapping them around his waist. Your arms wrap around his neck so you don’t fall backwards.

He bats his eyelashes at you and softly says “I promise I won’t let you drown and die sweetheart.”

You huff and roll your eyes. “Fine, you’re forgiven.”

When your eyes meet his you realize just how close you are. You can see all the little details of his face. The slight bump of his nose, the freckles that decorate his cheeks, the specs of gold in his eyes.

He seems to be doing the same to you, trying to commit your features to memory, then his eyes stop at your lips. He looks like he’s having an internal debate with himself.

“Can I- can I kiss you?” He asks, his eyes trailing back up your face to your eyes.

You don’t answer him, instead you lift a hand to the back of his head and press your lips against his.

[vampcubus]

Muzan + vibrator 🤨🤨

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, sub!muzan, dom!reader, vibrator use (muzan receiving), overstimulaton, it's not mentioned but y'all do have a safeword, hence the ignored no's.

He scoffs at the contraption at first, raising a skeptical brow as you click it on and off to show him the settings beforehand. He’s never really considered using toys on himself so he's a bit in the dark, and that my friend is power.

You start out on the lowest setting, teasing it along his inner thigh first as to not startle him with the new sensation. But he jerks all the same when you press the vibrator to his cock, legs snapping shut around your hand, though that just traps the toy against him and he trembles more, “Fuck! wait that’s too much, I don’t think…” he pants, face contorted in pleasure as the relentless vibrations overwhelm him.

“That’s just the lowest setting, practically a tease for me. C’mon you can handle it.” That earns you a glare, though it’s half-hearted, broken when his eyes almost roll back. His hands feel around the sheets uselessly, his thighs shaking, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“Why does it feel so…”

“Good?” You grin.

“Strange.” he corrects, albeit breathlessly, saliva pooling in his mouth as the toy buzzes away at his cock. “Fffuck I think- haaaa, what’re you-?” he writhes as the vibrations intensify, and you swirl the toy around the sensitive head in focused circles. “Ngh! ah!”

“Oops, looks like i turned it up by accident,” you chuckled darkly, head cocked to one side as you watched him buck helplessly into your ministrations. He’s leaking pre all over his pale stomach and you only smear it over him, delighted by the way his dick twitches and throbs. “Don’t tell me you’re going to cum already? We’ve only just started. Tsk.”

“As— fuck! as if it’s my fault. You mmhmn please no, not higher I-I really can’t hold-!” his abdomen seizes over and over and his thighs tremble, squirming inward. A telltale sign he was nearing the point of no return, and like the cruel master you can be, you only grin and turn the vibrator up higher. He sobs, carmine eyes clenched shut as he tosses beneath you, a cold hand clamping around your wrist as he humps against the toy.

You stare with bated breath as he shakes, completely silent before cum starts squirting out of him in thick ropes. His lower half lurches upward with every pulse, white liquid painting his stomach and your hand. He groans loud and long, a hoarse sound that goes straight between your legs when it graces your ears. It pitches into a mewl near the end, his slitted eyes shooting back open with start when he realizes that you aren’t stopping.

“W-wait- AH! I’ve already-!” he grits his teeth, the slight burn of overstimulation setting in all too quickly as you slide the vibrator down to his balls instead, making him jerk violently. “Fuck!”

“Did you think I was done with you, my lord? No no no, I wanna see how many orgasms I can milk out of you with my favorite toy.”

[hallietblr]

the after party is better than the party | j.fisher x reader

request: hi im new here and do you any imagine requests at this moment? and if you do can i request an jeremiah smut if you are okay with it btw i love your blog page and your writting thanks girl🥰🫶🏻

a/n: hi babe:) i was so excited to write this one, so thank you for the request! lots of love xx

warnings: smut (MINORS DNI!), oral (fem! receiving), mentions of alcohol consumption, swearing.

—

the loud music and the colourful led lights around the house with the red solo cup in my hands all were factors to the buzz that i was feeling. i giggled as i danced with a few girls that i just met.

my eyes travelled across the room to the wall where my golden retriever boyfriend stood with steven. steven was clearly drunk which was making jeremiah, who was the dd, laugh. our eyes connect and he offers his iconic sweet smile, he lifts the cup of water in his hand towards me as a cheers with a wink.

even though we’ve been dating for over a year, jeremiah fisher still makes my heart race and my cheeks flush with his pretty smile. i pull away from the dance floor and walk towards jeremiah and steven, stumbling slightly over my feet.

“what are you two doing?” i giggle as i approach them, jeremiah’s empty hand pulls me by my waist and holds me close to him, “hey gorgeous, we’re just chatting”

“it’s a party! you guys should be dancing with me.” i exclaim, before bringing my drink to my lips to take another sip.

the two laugh at my comment before jeremiah leans down to plant a soft kiss on my forehead, “what are you drinking?”

“probably something girly like a white claw” steven snickers while crushing his empty can and tossing into the nearby trash can. his eyes land on shayla before quickly excusing himself to go see her.

“it’s just some vodka cranberry” i answer before resting my chin on his shoulder, “you’re like really pretty.”

he smiles at me, “that’s all you, lover”

i shake my head at him before finishing my drink and throwing it out, “no, like you’re model level pretty. you know, i am so lucky to have you as my boyfriend!”

jeremiah places his hands on my hips and connects our lips. my arms subconsciously wrap around his neck and my fingers gently playing with his curly locks. his lips slowly start to travel towards my flushed cheek, then to my ear and then down to my jawline. i sigh happily, relaxing into his touch,

“do you wanna get out of here?” his whispers into my ear, “i promise the after party is better than the party”

i look up into his blue orbs, there’s a slight glimmer of lust in them and i nod, “yeah”

he grabs my hand and we walk away from the crowd of drunk teenagers. jeremiah squeezes my hand as we walk towards his red jeep wrangler. he opens the passenger door for me,

“alright, get in, my sweet girl” he tells me as i carefully climb into the seat. he pulls the seatbelt and leans over my lap to lock it in. as jeremiah straightens up, his thumb caress my cheek before pulling me into a kiss.

his soft lips make the butterflies in my stomach go into a frenzy and the slight pool in thong makes sitting uncomfortable. i shift in my seat and he notices before chuckling,

“soon baby” he promises before getting into the drivers seat.

the car ride feels like a life time as he drives us to my house, which was coincidentally across from his. his hand never left my upper thigh, his fingers drumming slightly to the music playing off the stereo,

“seems like you were having fun tonight,” jeremiah grins, “saw you dancing it up on the floor”

i laugh, “music is made for dancing, babe.”

“we also have that vodka cran to thank.” he mentions as he pulls up on my driveway.

the two of us walk into my house through the front door and head towards my bedroom on the second floor. luckily, both of my parents were away for the weekend due to needing to head back home briefly for a business meeting.

“are your parents home?”

i giggle, “no, they’re away for the weekend. so we can be as loud as we want.”

he smirks at me, “good.”

jeremiah opens my door and motions for me, i smile at him

“always a gentleman,” i say to him as he closes the door behind himself,

“anything for my girl.”

i sit on my bed and pull his wrist to sit next to me. i pull him into a kiss which quickly turns into a heated make out session. he carefully lays me down and situates himself to hover over me. our lips never disconnecting in the process.

my hands travelling from his large biceps and shoulders to his hair which i tug at, causing jeremiah to release a low moan,

“fuck that’s so hot.” i mumbled against his lips, he pulls away to remove his shirt and i quickly do the same. his eyes following my every move,

“fuck you’re so hot” he says back to me, reciting what i had just said moments ago before leaning down to kiss my neck and throat area. my hands stay busy in his locks as he sucks on a sensitive part, making me moan and buck my hips.

he licks the spot that he proudly marked me as his, “now everyone will know that you are mine.” he breathes out before continuing to kiss me down to my chest. jeremiah has one forearm supporting his weight above me, while the free hand effortlessly unclasps my yellow laced bra.

“is this okay?” he asks sweetly

no matter how many times we’ve had sex, he always makes sure that i’m okay. i nod quickly, his lips litter kisses across my chest and kisses my nipples, making me shudder from the pleasure. he eventually makes it to the waistband of my shorts, i lift my hips up so it’s easier for him to pull them down.

jeremiah plays with the edge of my matching yellow thong as me kisses my inner thigh, “fuck, baby, you’re so wet. is this all for me?”

i nod at him, pulling at his curls, “it’s all for you, jeremiah. please stop teasing.”

he chuckles, “always so needy for me.”

with that, he pulls down my thong and places a single kiss on the bundle of nerves making me moan loudly in response. i can feel his smile against my skin before he licks a long stride up my centre,

“you always taste so good,” he moans as he continues to eat me out. his tongue works his magic, sending my body into a bliss as he traces figure eights and sucks on my clit.

“jeremiah,” i cry out, tugging harder at his hair, “fuck, i’m close”

the knot in my stomach tightening as he moves faster to help me reach my orgasm, i let out a pornographic moan as he inserts two of his fingers into me. his fingers thrust quickly and harder into me making me pant.

“come on my tongue, baby.” was all that was needed before my legs started to shake and the knot inside releasing the waves of constant pleasure.

jeremiah continues to finger me through my orgasm as i slowly come down from the high. i breath heavily and brush my fingers through my hair, he smiles at me with evidence of my orgasm glistening on his lips.

he fiddled with his shorts before pulling them down with his boxers. his erection slapping his six pack, he sighs from the relief of his tight boxers. he grabs a condom from my nightstand drawer before carefully rolling it onto his length.

my heart rate and breathing patterns regulate by the time he returns back to me. he hovers over me with support from his hands that are next to my head, “ready, baby?”

“fuck yeah,” i breath out, he kisses me quickly before lining himself up. i open my legs wider for him to give better access, jeremiah lets out a low groan as he enters into me,

“holy shit, y/n, you feel so good.”

my back curves upwards in reaction to his thick cock stretching my inner walls out, “fuck, jeremiah!”

he slowly starts to thrust into me, the two of us in a panting and moaning mess. jeremiah lowers himself to get more contact with my body, our sweaty chests touching each other. he connects our lips before quickening the pace of his thrusts.

i grab onto his shoulders before slowly clawing his back, making him throw his head back in pleasure. his necklace dangles over me, this moment needed to be engraved in my memory forever.

jeremiah fisher, his built body with defined shoulders and chest muscles shining in the moonlight from my window, his head throw back which showing the small veins in his neck, and his necklace hanging in front of me.

“i’m close,” he moans out as he buries his face in the crook of my neck. i squeeze his shoulders, feeling close to my second orgasm. i can feel him feeling open mouthed kisses on my neck and his thumb rubbing harsh circles on my clit.

he kisses the edge of my lips, “fuck, i know you’re close, baby. i can feel you squeezing on my cock.”

i feel my legs starting to shake, “harder, jere”

his hips move slower but snap harder, the tip of his length hitting my sweet spot harder than before.

“that’s it, baby” he pants, “fucking come on my dick.”

i let out a high pitch moan as my toes curl, fingernails scrapping down his muscular back, and my back arching in pure pleasure. i feel myself squeezing harder around him which resulted in him also releasing into the condom.

he slowly thrusts into me while his hands brush out the hairs from my face, “you’re so amazing, y/n, truly.” he whispers before pulling out.

my muscles relax and my eyelids start feeling heavy, jeremiah soon gets up to throw out the condom while also pulling his boxers on.

i raise my head up from the pillow as he leaves my bedroom, in confusion, i call out, “jeremiah?”

within seconds he returns with two glasses of water and a warm towel. he hands me a cup and tells me to relax as he slowly cleans me up.

we both crawl under my blanket, his arm instinctively wrapping around my waist to pull me closer, “i love you, my sunshine.” he mumbles into my hair and kisses my bare shoulder,

“i love you too, baby”

[vaaaaaiolet]

This summer, you're a swimming instructor. The cute lifeguard that rescued you from drowning in the deep end of the pool last week invites you out for a romp on the beach and you end up getting a little in your head.

Lucky for you, Leon's a dab hand at his job. Especially for you, even if he's off duty.

f / m, fluff, romance, body image issues, banter, tw: eating issues, reader is awkward and body conscious :( but leon is a sweetheart and a TOTAL flirt, slight?? afab nsfw

a/n: title from "my fun" by suki waterhouse! i'm finally reaching the end of my manic writing streak, and since summer's in full swing, you all better know that you look STUNNING no matter what!! your incredible support means the world to me <3

this fic belongs to sketches for my sweetheart the drunk, a collection of bite-sized fics to stretch out my writing muscles :) i hope you enjoy!

word count: 662 // read on ao3

Can’t do it, nope.

You skitter back under the shade of an umbrella blooming on the beach. The water’s beautiful today. Incessant little waves lap at your feet, coaxing you into the turquoise coast. 

The sinking feeling in your stomach outweighs any of its appeal.

He spots you on his way back from his truck. You’re swaddled in a towel big enough for the both of you, buried in a book that you find super interesting (once you turn it right side up), and just as you get into the nitty gritty of how to win friends and influence people, your reading gets swiped up from right under your nose. “Hey!” 

Leon blinks innocently, twisting his wrist to read the cover, “You’re into this kinda stuff?”

“It’s how I’m so winning,” you cross your arms over your stomach, whatareyousaying?, “and influential. To people.”

“To people.” He repeats.

“Uh huh.”

Way to go. If the cute lifeguard didn’t think you were weird for asking if he knew how to swim, he’s definitely going to think you’re weird now. What kind of swimming instructor doesn’t swim at the beach?

And as you think you’ve screwed it all up with the only cute guy who’s asked you out all summer, Leon just chuckles, hunkering down on the sand next to you. “You’re influential, I’ll give you that. Maybe I’ll put my swimming off until later too.”

So Leon saves you again, like he did at the deep end of the pool last week.

“Toss me something from the cooler?” he asks.

He shucks off his shirt, revealing a set of well-earned abs. Jesus, they ripple, they’re waves. You’d happily take a surfboard to his six-pack. 

Sadly, you settle for handing him a Coke instead.  

“Is something the matter?” he asks after a bit. Leon almost sounds shy, his cheeks a sunkissed pink to match as he sips.

You shake your head no as winningly as possible.

“Are you sick? Cramping?” Oh, he’s a sweetheart, “‘Cause we can go anywhere you want. I just thought since you teach swimming…” His fingers inch towards your towel-covered thigh. 

“Seriously,” you laugh, “it’s not a big deal, you go swim.”

“Really? Cause I’m thinking the pretty girl I finally convinced to go to the beach with me is going to run the other way the minute I turn my back.”

Your face sears with heat as you open your mouth and nothing comes out. 

“Kidding, I swear. Wanna make sure you’re okay.”

You wrap the towel a little tighter around your stomach, and Leon’s brow pinches. “What’s that all about?”

“Just not feeling like I look my best,” you admit, glancing over to the picnic basket you brought along, “It’s just for today, I don’t like how I look and maybe I should go easier on the food-” 

“Absolutely not.” 

The sharp pitch of his voice snaps your eyes back up as he plucks a nectarine out of the basket and slips it into your hand. He won’t take no for an answer – did he see how shaky your legs were at the pool this morning? 

“You spent all day chasing your swimming class around; you need energy to kick my ass at Chicken like you promised, remember?”

“Come on, it’s not that serious. I just missed breakfast.” You’re mumbling now, sounding not at all influential or winning, “I had enough energy for today’s lesson anyway.”

“You’ll lose your boobs.” Leon shrugs, sinking his teeth into another nectarine before you smack him on the shoulder. A scandalized gasp tears out your throat as he laughs.

“That’s a stretch!”

“I don’t make the rules. Eat. Land or water, you’re gorgeous both ways.”

And there he was again, doing what he does best. The sinking feeling lifts with each bite you take of the fruit, and just maybe, you might not have messed this all up.

“Attagirl.”

You meet Leon’s grin with an idiotic one of your own. “Charmer.”

“Pretty girl.”

fun fact: i once got flirted with like leon does to reader at the end but that guy did it much worse and it was a total ick 💀 lowkey i might not keep this up either AHGHG

click for my full drabble collection, and find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care!

[asbealthgn]

It occasionally happens that Steve or Robin will desperately need each other at suboptimal times of day.

It was like this for a while last summer after Starcourt and now it’s happening again in the aftermath of Vecna. Sometimes, Robin will wake up from a nightmare at three in the morning and ride her bike over to Steve’s house. If his parents are gone, she’ll let herself in with the spare key he gave her. If they’re home, she’ll stand by the pool and toss rocks at his window until he wakes up and comes down to meet her. Other times Steve will be on his second night in a row of no sleep and will drive over to Robin’s house to sneak in through her window. 

Tonight is one of those nights. 

He parks around the corner and walks towards the Buckleys’ house as quickly and casually as possible. He’s always a little worried about their neighbors spotting him and getting suspicious, but no one has said anything yet. 

At this point, he’s perfected silently climbing the trellis and creeping along the roofline to Robin’s window. But tonight, he gets halfway there before realizing that the window is open, soft voices wafting out. He moves closer, staying low, and tucks himself under the window until the voices coalesce into words. 

“—I do get it, though,” Robin whispers.

“It just sucks,” the other voice says—Eddie. That’s weird, Steve didn’t know they hung out like this. “‘Cause I know there’s no way he’s ever gonna feel the same.”

Steve wonders who they’re talking about. Who Eddie has a crush on. At least, that’s what it sounds like they’re discussing. And he realizes he should probably leave, since this likely isn’t a conversation he’s supposed to be overhearing, but he can’t help sticking around. He’s curious.

“I mean, you can never really know,” Robin says, “But in this case, yeah. Doesn’t seem likely.”

Eddie makes a sad noise that cuts right through Steve. It kind of makes him want to find whatever guy Eddie is into and shake him until he apologizes for making Eddie feel this way.

“I know,” Eddie says, “I’ve made my peace with that. Mostly. I just—don’t want to fuck anything up, you know? Don’t want my stupid feelings to get in the way of our friendship.”

So the guy is a friend of Eddie’s. That sort of narrows the pool, but Steve definitely doesn’t know all of Eddie’s friends. It might be someone in his band, except they’re all kind of too young for him. Or maybe Jonathan? He sort of seems like the type of guy someone like Eddie could be into. It’s definitely not Steve. There’s no way he’s Eddie’s type. 

He’s not sure why that thought is kind of disappointing.

“Your feelings aren’t stupid,” Robin says, voice gentle. “And even if he does find out, it’s not going to ruin your friendship. He’s a good guy. And he’s more emotionally intelligent than people give him credit for.”

“I know. But it would make things weird, and I don’t wanna make things weird. I like what we have.”

“For what it’s worth,” she says, “He does too. He loves being friends with you, and I think it would take a lot for him to give that up.”

Eddie makes a noncommittal noise. Whoever he likes, Steve thinks the guy’s an idiot if he doesn’t like Eddie back. He’s everything someone could want in a romantic partner—funny, sweet, smart but not in a condescending way, pretty, good with kids. What’s not to love? Steve would totally date him if he weren’t straight.

“And like I said,” Robin goes on, “You never know. Maybe he does like you back.”

“C’mon, Buckley,” Eddie says flatly, “You know that’s impossible. I mean, we’re talking about Steve here.”

Steve jerks at the sound of his name, smacking his head against the underside of the window frame. “Shit!” he hisses before he can stop himself, then freezes.

Inside, the voices have gone silent. There’s the creaking of springs like someone getting off the bed and then Robin is appearing at the window, poking her head out. 

“Steve, oh my God,” she says, looking down at him.

He straightens, trying to act casual even though literally nothing about this is casual. “Oh, hey,” he says. Fuck, what was that? He’s playing this wrong. He glances through the window and sees Eddie still sitting on the bed, eyes wide. He looks petrified. 

Abruptly, Eddie gets up and crosses to the window.

“Eddie, wait,” Steve says as Eddie climbs out of the window, not looking at him. He heads straight for the trellis without a backwards glance. “You don’t have to go,” Steve calls softly after him, but it’s too late. He’s already gone.

Robin sighs. “You should probably just come in,” she says. 

Insides roiling with guilt, Steve climbs through the window and just stands there, not sure if he should say something. She crosses her arms and looks back at him, eyebrows raised in expectation. “Um—” he starts.

She rolls her eyes. “What the hell were you doing, dingus?”

“I’m really sorry,” he says, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I just—I couldn’t sleep so I came over, and I saw the window was open so I got curious and I—I didn’t mean to overhear that. I mean, I had no clue you guys were talking about me.”

“Well, we were,” she says, sighing as she moves backward until she hits her bed, sitting down. Steve comes over and sits facing her. “And now you know.”

“Now I know,” he repeats. “Makes no fucking sense, but now I know.”

It really doesn’t. What the hell does he have that Eddie would want? He’s not exceptional in any way, not like everyone else in their group. He’s not into any of the things Eddie cares about. He’s not stupid—he realizes he’s a good-looking guy—but Eddie doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would like someone solely based on that. So why would Eddie possibly like him?

Robin is frowning at him. “What do you mean, makes no fucking sense?”

He shrugs. “Just, like, I don’t know why he would be into me,” he says, “I’m—boring.”

“You, Steve Harrington, are many things,” she says, putting a hand on his shoulder, “But you’re not boring. Do you really think that about yourself?”

Now he’s feeling defensive. “I dunno,” he says, “Maybe?”

“Okay, well, don’t,” she says, hard look in her eye. “I don’t want to hear anyone saying bad things about my best friend.”

That makes him smile. “Okay,” he says.

“Okay.”

He shifts in his spot. “So—since when do you and Eddie hang out in the middle of the night?”

“Since never, really,” she says, “I think he normally goes to Nancy. But the Wheelers are out of town, and I think he needed someone to talk to.” She shrugs. “And, you know, I’m kind of the expert on you.”

“Yeah, that’s accurate,” he says, grinning. “Sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself.”

She smiles back at him. “Oh, absolutely.” Then her eyebrows pinch together. “So—you don’t mind? That he likes you?”

“No, of course I don’t mind,” Steve says, shaking his head. “If anything, I’m glad.”

“You’re…glad?”

“Yeah,” he says, “If he’s gonna like anyone, I’m glad it’s me.”

Then he frowns. Why would he rather Eddie like him than someone else? Why is it such a relief that Eddie said his name instead of Jeff or Jonathan? 

Robin is looking back at him with her eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “Steve do you—do you like him?”

He blinks several times. “Uh. I don’t—I’m not—”

What does this mean? If he wants Eddie to like him, does that mean he likes Eddie? He imagines for a second that Eddie does like someone else. He pictures him going on dates with some other guy, kissing some other guy. And it fills him with so much immense hatred for this faceless figment of his imagination. God, he’s jealous.

“Holy shit,” he whispers.

Robin takes both of his hands and squeezes them. “Holy shit,” she repeats.

He pitches forward and lets his head slump onto her shoulder. God, what does this mean for him? He doesn’t know what to do with himself. His world just got lifted up, spun around, and dropped back on its head with no warning. And now he’s just supposed to go about his life knowing that he has feelings for a guy. For Eddie. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Robin says, running her fingers through his hair. “There’s nothing wrong with having a crush on a guy.”

“I know,” he says, voice muffled by the fabric of her shirt. 

“But I get how earth-shattering this is.”

He lifts his head to look at her and she gives him an encouraging smile. She squeezes his hands again. 

“What do I do now?” he asks. 

“Well,” she says, reaching up to flick a lock of hair out of his eyes. “I think you should probably go talk to Eddie.”

(part two here)

[blueeyedheizer]

Hii can you write for Cassie using prompts 15 and 17

#15 - Look at you, all flushed and pretty. You’re perfect.

#17 - "Can we wait a second? I wanna take a picture of you right now." (18+, smut under the cut)

back to post this because it got lost in my drafts. sorry <3

"I wasn't flirting with him." Cassie sighs, her fingers threading in your hair as she watches you pull her panties down her legs. The dress she had meticulously picked for Maddy's birthday party is pooling a her waist as she sits on one of the two regular sized beds in the guest room, legs spread wide.

You scoff humorlessly, meeting her gaze.

"What, you think I didn't see that little stunt you pulled back there?" you part her legs some more, running your palms up and down the warm skin of her inner thighs, your lips kissing the crease where her hip and thigh met, moving dangerously close to her core. "How you ground against him... and how hard you made him?"

As you lean forward and stick your tongue out to drag it up her folds, Cassie's reply dies in her throat. Her eyes roll back when your tongue stiffens, the tip of it coming in direct contact with her clit without warning, slowly flicking left to right.

"I didn't do it on purpose." she eventually manages to get the words out, her breathing becoming uneven. "Oh—! m-my God, we... we were just dancing." Cassie gasps, tossing her head back.

"Don't fucking lie to me." you spat. "He wanted to fuck you, didn't he? Bet he wanted a taste of that sweet pussy, too." you laughed. "Do you know him?"

"No."

Lick.

"Did you tell him your pussy belongs to me?"

Lick.

"I...I- fuck, oh my god," her words trail off as you suck her clit between your lips, then pull back with a soft pop just enough to free yourself to speak. 

"Did you?"

"N-No, I—." she whines and you dive back between her legs, licking around and sucking on her clit, wondering how long it’ll take for that boy to look for her and walk in the room to see the two of you like this.

"Who's this pussy belong to?"

"You." she sighs, annoyed that you've already pulled apart from her clit. "It's yours."

"That's right." you bring three fingers to her pussy, spreading her folds, moving up and down around her labia, looking at her to take in her reaction. Finally you push a finger in, easily with how wet she is. "And don't you forget it."

Cassie's body shakes as she moans, her arms giving out causing her upper body to drop to the bed. You seal your lips around her clit again and Cassie can barely think anymore, thighs spasming as pleasure floods through her body with every flick of your tongue. She keeps a tight grip on your hair, pushing you closer as she grinds against your mouth, the bed starting to creak just slightly. She tries to speak, her words slurred as the pleasure builds.

"I was— it's— fuck, baby." she cries out. "I wasn't flir— hmph, flirting with him. I would've never— n-never done that to you. Ah—!"

You dismiss her completely and pull away, your mouth detaching from her cunt with a pop. "I'm going to fucking ruin you." you laugh, kneading the skin of her thighs. "I'm gonna make you come again and again until you beg me to stop."

Cassie nods furiously, her face growing redder by the second.

"Yes. Yes, do it. Make me come— please." she whines.

"Fuck, Look at you." you laugh, looking up at her in awe. "All flushed and pretty. You’re perfect.”

The heat of your mouth has her crying out as your presses yourself right back into her cunt. Your lips close around her clit, sucking harshly. She can hardly contain the moans and pathetic little sounds that slip past her lips, her back arching with every little thing you do.

"I'm gonna... uh! I'm gon—" the last of her sentence dissolves into a moan as one of her hands find the crumpled sheet above her head, grasping for anything to hold as her teeth sink into her bottom lip.

"You're gonna what, baby...?"

Before she can even think of answering, Cassie's body goes rigid. Her legs tremble near violently around your head and her hand keeps a firm grip on your hair, a desperate scream ripping from her throat as she comes, the vibrations from your moans only prolonging the pleasure.

Cassie is incoherent by this point, too overwhelmed with pleasure, and you just keep going.

You keep eating her out, making her come over and over like you promised, pumping your fingers inside her until the coil snaps again and she lets out a guttural scream, her body trembling and clenching as the aftershocks of her orgasm continue.

You make her come a total of four times with just your mouth and fingers, and she's boneless by the time you're done with her, lying there completely blissed out, dried tear tracks down her face, her pussy red and swollen and still aching from the overstimulation.

"Are you okay?" you murmur, touching her so carefully as you clean her up. Cassie can't manage much more than a whimper and a nod, still catching her breath. "You did so well, baby. Such a good girl for me." you praise, pressing the lightest of kisses along her jawline.

"I love you." she whispers.

"I know, baby. I love you too, so much." you bring your lips back up to hers, kissing her softly, your tongue running along her bottom lip before catching it between your teeth. Cassie sighs at the feeling and your lips quirk into a smirk as you let go, pecking her lips one last time.

"We should head back..." Cassie reasons, finally in control of her thoughts again. "Maddy must be wondering where we went."

"Can we wait a second? I wanna take a picture of you right now."

Cassie chuckles, propping herself onto her forearms, brows raised in amusement as you get off the bed.

"Did you bring your Polaroid?" You wink at her and nod, pulling the camera out of your handbag which you had previously set on a chair nearby. "You already have a thousand pictures of me naked." she chuckles and you climb back onto the bed with her, pecking her lips softly.

"I want a thousand more."

[zepskies]

Being Human – Part 1

Pairing: Alec McDowell x F. Reader

Summary: Your life made sense before Alec slipped his way in. He unravels your threads without even trying. He frustrates you as easily as he weasels back into your good graces. But you soon realize that this man is worth the challenge.

AN: This is technically my first Dark Angel story, since I wrote Part 1 of this before "Bullseye." It will be four parts. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Summary: You’ve managed to keep things playful and friendly with Alec so far, despite his flirtatious nature. But when he asks you for a favor that goes painfully awry, the transgenic has to figure out something that wasn’t in his training: how to apologize. [Set during 2.06]

Word Count: 5,000

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Tension, angst, spiciness, implied smut.

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 1: Training Day

As sad as it is, this is probably your favorite place in the world.

Crash is as divey as a dive bar can get. And yet, it still boasts the strongest, cheapest drinks in Seattle. The music is decent, and the company is good. At least tonight it is, because you’ve met up with Max, Original Cindy, and Sketchy after a long day of slinging packages.

The only problem?

The newest member of Jam Pony, slinking up from the corner of your eye and easing into the seat next to you at the bar.

You turn an expectant gaze to Alec McDowell and his flirtatious green eyes. They take in your jeans and halter top with an obvious perusal. 

“Can I help you?” you ask dryly.

“No, no. It’s what I can do for you,” he replies. You’re about to roll your eyes when he adds, “Let me buy you a beer. Or whatever you’re drinking.”

Just then, the bartender slides you the beer you’ve already ordered. You thank him and give Alec a smile.

“Got it covered, thanks,” you reply, sipping the froth off your drink.

Alec sighs and crosses his arms. “When are you gonna stop putting the freeze on me?”

“When I’m not part of your internal checklist of Breasts on Legs,” you retort. Glancing around the bar, you note three other girls you’ve already seen him shoot his shot with tonight.

Alec scoffs and holds his chest.

“That’s hurtful,” he claims. “It really is.”

But he shifts toward you in his seat, cutting off your smile. Your face warms at his proximity.

Damn, he smells good, you think.

“Besides,” he says, “I always save the best for last.”

His smile makes your heart beat faster, though you eye him wryly. He opens his smartass mouth to say something else, but you get a reprieve when Original Cindy slides into the seat on your other side. She tosses you a wink.

It gives you just enough confidence to smirk in Alec’s face.

“Keep trying. Maybe someday I’ll lose my mind,” you say, with a teasing raise of brows.

Alec is still amused as he shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable. Insulting, yet, still somehow endearing.”

“Don’t wanna get clowned, don’t act like a clown,” you tell him sweetly. 

“I know that’s right,” Cindy quips. She orders a Cosmo to upgrade her beer. She must’ve won a bet tonight, if she was able to score enough cash for liquor.

“Hilarious,” Alec says. He pouts a little. “Hey, I’m not some mongrel on the loose. I’m just looking for some honest companionship.”

“Honest?” you laugh. “Now that’s hilarious.”

He gives you a fake laugh, but he watches you go when you slip away from him to join Max and Sketchy in the back room by the pool table. Alec’s smile fades a little.

Cindy raises a brow at him, along with a tan finger.

“No,” she says. “You actually crushin’ on homegirl? For real?”

Alec glances at her. “Where’d you get that idea?”

She gives him a flat look.

“Should I burn some sage?” she asks.

Alec shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

“Come on. I think Max is calling us over.”

When the two of them venture over to where you and Max are playing a game of pool, Alec’s cocky smile is back. His eyes catch yours when he sits down at a nearby table. Your lips curve while you lean on your pool cue.

For the past few weeks, this is how it’s always been with you and Alec. Push and pull. A sort of caustic flirtation that you can’t in good conscience take seriously. But to his credit, he always tries.

And he seems to always mean it. 

You’ll never admit it, but it’s getting harder and harder for you to resist the pull of him. He’s clearly a guy who doesn’t do attachments, and you have a bad habit of getting attached. Your life is hard enough without adding a dash of heartbreak into the mix.

So Max helps you sharpen your skills at this game while you finish your beer. And…maybe you “unintentionally” tease Alec a little with the curve of your ass when you’re bent over the table, lining up a shot.

In fairness, you’re a bit tipsy.

You spend the rest of the night drinking two more beers and laughing and losing the game—first to Max, then to Alec, and finally to Sketchy. By then, you know it’s time to cut your losses.

You haul your backpack onto your shoulder and start to head out of the bar. But who should slip into your way than Alec freakin’ McDowell?

“Hey, I’ve got a quick question for you,” he says.

You sigh. “Alec, the usual sniping was fun, but I’m tired and I want to go home.”

He stops you with a touch on your arm. He seems slightly more serious.

“It’s a favor,” he says, pulling out a small rectangular package wrapped in plain brown paper. You look down at it in confusion.

“I saw on the work chart that you’re scheduled to go over to Sector 4 tomorrow,” he says. “Would you mind delivering this for me?”

Your brows raise at him. He raises $20 in front of your face.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he smiles.

You take the $20 and the package, though you’re still a little uncertain.

“What’s in it?”

Alec leans in close to your ear. “I’ll give you an extra $10 if you don’t ask.”

His voice washes over you and makes your skin prickle. You’re blushing, but your eyes narrow at him further.

“Make it $20,” you counter.

He scoffs. Though after a moment…he coughs up the extra cash.

“The most expensive damn delivery I’ve never made,” he mutters.

You have to crane your neck a bit, as he stands over a head taller than you, but you smile up at him brightly.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” you say.

For him, maybe the expense was worth it to get that smile.

You pull up on your bike to what you think is the right address. You don’t usually come to this side of town, even in Sector 4.

It feels a bit like a shanty town and a meat packing district all at once—complete with dodgy-looking street vendors and unmarked vans loading and unloading cargo behind them. 

“Can I help you, little girl?”

You stifle a gasp as your path is suddenly obstructed. A black man and his two white friends have crowded around your bike, but they don’t look normal. Various metal spikes and prods protrude from their faces, neck, and body, but they’re not your typical piercings. The metal is fused into their skin.

Oh shit, you think, as your heartrate picks up. Steelheads.

“I’m just making a delivery,” you tell them. Your eyes dart to your surroundings, trying to catch anyone’s gaze for a little help.

But in big cities like this, everyone knows to keep their eyes down.

Don’t look, don’t tell. Don’t get any trouble.

“I think you might be lost, love,” says one of the other men. He’s British, by the sound of his accent, and is the taller of the two. His skin is pale, though there’s a red ring under his eyes that suggests drugs, or whatever else these three are injecting into themselves.

“Uhh, yeah. I must be. I’ll just go,” you nod, and you start to back up. The ringleader Brit clamps a bony hand on your bike to stop you. He grabs the scrap of paper Alec gave you, which holds the address for your intended delivery.

The Steelhead examines it lazily, before his gaze flicks back up to yours.

“Well, well. I stand corrected,” he says. He gestures to the small package in your hands. “What’s in it?”

You shrug and try to play off your ignorance. Because the truth is, you have no idea.

“It’s not my job to know,” you reply.

“Ah, but you see, it’s our business to know,” the Brit says, leaning in towards you. You lean back with pursed lips.

“This is our little piece of paradise,” says the shortest one. His lips are damn near purple.

“We’re what you call…territorial,” says the leader. He grabs you off your bike while the first man takes the package from you.

“Hey, I don’t want any trouble,” you say, though you hate the way your voice shakes. “I can just go—”

“Oh, we’ll let you go, little mouse. You’re gonna give a message back to sender,” the Brit says. “But first, a reminder.”

He shoves you back into the nearest wall. It’s solid brick that stuns a gasp out of you. He presses in on you, grabbing your face and dragging a sharp, unnaturally long nail against your cheek, biting into the skin.

It’s painful enough to make you whimper as you feel wetness drip down to your neck. His friends laugh at your discomfort, at your fear. You’re too frozen to reach for the pepper spray in your pocket…

“What’s going on here?” another man asks. Out of the corner of your eye you spot a black uniform. For the first time in your life, you’re grateful to see a cop.

The Steelhead releases you, and the three of them are subtle in the way they back off from you.

“Nothing here, officer,” the leader says. Though he gives you a smirk. “Just accepting a delivery.”

You let them keep the package and pretend that a signature has made it onto your clipboard. You climb back onto your bike and you leave Sector 4 without looking back. All the while, your arms shake and you wipe at the blur of tears in your eyes.

When you get back to the Jam Pony base of operations (a warehouse that feels like a basement), you park your bike out front and head inside.

Your legs still feel precarious. And even though the blood is dry against the cut on your cheek, you know you need to clean and disinfect it at some point.

Of course, you have to run into Alec and Sketchy, who are palling around without a care in the world.

That all stops when they turn to look at you. Their mirth dies on their faces. Alec’s gaze runs over you and stops at your cheek. You dab at your face, tentative and self-conscious. You know you must look like hell. Of course, they can’t let you just go to your locker in peace.

“Jeez, what the hell happened to you?” Sketchy asks.

You shake your head. “Fell into a bush.”

You drag Alec aside by his arm, giving him a warning look that further lets him know you’re lying. He follows you without complaint over to the lockers, where you two have the semblance of privacy. Before he can ask you what really happened, you snap at him.

“What the hell was in that package?” you ask. “Drugs? A weapon? Some other contraband? Do you know what could’ve happened to me if I’d gotten caught with that shit? Do you know what almost…”

Tears burgeon in your eyes all over again, and you have to take a deep, shaky breath. 

Alec’s brows furrow in what might actually be concern. He grasps your arm, gentle but firm. 

“Hey, tell me what happened,” he says.

Unconsciously, his grip on your arm makes the memory flash in your mind: of that pale, greasy man grabbing you and pinning you against the wall.

You shrug out of Alec’s hold more harshly than you meant to. It makes him raise a placating hand, as his eyes widen a fraction.

“A gaggle of Steelheads,” you say. You breathe tremulously, blinking past your tears. “I was lucky…anyway. Next time you want to ask me for a favor? Don’t.”

 You brush past Alec to get to your locker. There you grab the rest of your things and head out, though it’s quite a few hours before closing time. Nothing gets by Normal, who stops you at the reception desk.

“Hey, hey, Missy! Where the hell’re you going?” he asks. “Get back here. I’ve got packages that need homes.”

“I’m taking some much needed PTO,” you quip.

“You don’t have PTO. It’s not that kind of business,” Normal says.

“Then bite me,” you snap. “How’s that?”

Most of the room stills into quiet shock. You feel the weight of their gazes, your coworkers and friends, including Normal’s slackened face.

You’re normally not one to talk back. You accept your assignments without question, not wanting to cause undue trouble for yourself. Like everyone else here, you need your job, and you have nothing to fall back on.

But it’s enough, and you’re thoroughly done with today.

Your saving grace is that it’s plain to see how shaken up you are, even when you leave. Alec approaches the receptionist desk with Sketchy, drumming his hand on the counter absently. 

“What the hell crawled up her keister?” Normal remarks. “She’s lucky I’m short staffed right now, or she’d be in the can.”

Despite his strong talk, he resumes collecting paperwork and organizing files to distract himself from how much you’d taken him aback.

Alec frowns.

“She uh, had to deal with some Steelheads,” he offers, and hesitates. “...What the hell’s a Steelhead?”

“Yeah, you know, they’re into implants and biotech stuff,” Sketchy explains.

“She would know better than to hang out with those low lives,” Normal interjects. “They’re amped off their gourds on hormones and who knows what else.”

Alec processes that with a deepening frown. He decides to head out onto his next “delivery.”

He makes it to Sector 4 on his bike within an hour, but he still envies Max’s motorcycle. When he racks up enough cash, he’s definitely scoring a faster ride.

For now, he pulls up near the address he sent you to earlier. He never should’ve given you his drugs to sell, especially when he clearly doesn’t know this city well enough yet.

Poor reconnaissance, Alec, he thinks. Sloppy.

Though when did he start to think of himself as Alec and not by his designation, 494?

He’s soon taken out of his musings when he sees a gaggle of three men outside a cargo van. Each of them is uglier than the last, with metal spikes, among other things sticking out from their bodies. Steelheads. They’ve got to be.

These are the guys who harassed you.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Alec says, climbing off his bike. The men turn to the newcomer with suspicious frowns.

“I’m looking for three fugly Steelheads that hassled a friend of mine this morning,” he says.

One is tall, pale and wiry, and he opens his arms wide. “Well, you found ‘em.”

He has a British accent. The sight of him alone grates on Alec, though all he shows is calm confidence. He teases the short one, who seems to be missing an arm. Apparently he’s “pre-op,” set to get a new cyber arm made of Japanese steel.

Fucking wackos, Alec thinks. Manticore could learn a thing or two from these guys about mutilation.

“Here’s the thing, fellas,” Alec says. “My friend was carrying a package that didn’t belong to her. It belonged to me. You guys took it, and I need to get it back.”

The first man scoffs. “There seems to be a breakdown in communication, doesn’t it?”

He approaches Alec, hands on his hips, with his two cronies behind him. Alec can already smell their stench from where he stands. He doesn’t need them to get any closer.

“Maybe your little bitch didn’t relay our message,” he says, pushing his luck.

Alec’s smile sharpens; a deadly warning in and of itself.

“Nobody around here sells Andy but us,” says another of them.

Androxtamine. Alec didn’t care to be a drug dealer. It was just a means to an end in order to pay Max back for her help a little while back. Now, his buyer is pissed that he didn’t get his damn drugs, and Alec is out $500.

He tries to explain that calmly to this group of weirdos, but the leader is just so damn cocky.

“What’s a puff like you need with $500 anyway, eh?” he asks.

Alec’s smirk deepens. He mimics the guy’s accent and replies, “Actually, I need it for a ride on your mum.”

Well, the Steelheads don’t take too kindly to that. They try their best, Alec will hand it to them. But his genetics and training make the resulting “fight” no more than child’s play. He takes his frustrations out of their asses.

He can’t help being slightly more brutal than necessary when he remembers the fear lingering behind your eyes. The bloody cut on your cheek. The way it could’ve been so much worse…

And it would’ve been your fault. Alec’s lips press into a line.

Logan Cale, Max’s rich non-boyfriend and secret “Eyes Only” vigilante, calls Alec halfway through his venting session to, surprisingly, ask for his help.

Alec agrees, because it’s mainly for Max. A creature has been killing cops in Seattle. Unfortunately, the description of a “man-dog” sounds way too much like Joshua, their fellow transgenic in hiding.

It also means Alec has to spend most of his afternoon in a musty sewer.

The job ends up being a bitch and a half, even when Max finally shows up to help out. The true culprit ends up being Joshua’s brother, Isaac, who Joshua is forced to stop before he kills any more policemen who remind him of Manticore’s abusive guards.

The gentle Joshua ends up having to take out his own brother. Something that’s both familiar, and foreign to Alec. (But he’s sure it’s not so foreign to Max.)

It’s a harrowing scene, and a touch too emotional for Alec’s comfort. He leaves Max to tend to Joshua in the aftermath and catches a ride home with Logan. Somehow though, as bone tired and grimy as he feels, Alec can’t feel right about going home just yet.

Something is niggling in the back of his mind, forcing him to hand Logan a scrap of paper that holds your address. (Alec might’ve snuck into Normal’s office before he left for the day to find out where you lived on your employee file.)

“Hey, can you stop at this address?” Alec asks.

Logan glances at the piece of paper and nods. He then looks over at Alec. They aren’t friends, but Logan is perceptive enough to know that something’s weighing on his passenger.

“Everything okay?” Logan asks.

“There’s something I have to do,” Alec supplies.

When they eventually arrive to what seems like an abandoned building, Logan looks over at Alec.

“Good luck,” he offers.

Alec nods gratefully. They aren’t friends, but he supposes Logan’s not so bad, even if he is a slave to Max’s supposed charms.

Alec gets out of the car and head inside the building. It’s old and dirty, and he really can’t believe you live like this. It lacks security and basic hygiene. If he wanted to, he could kick straight through your door with half of his strength.

Instead, he knocks.

A few moments later, he hears your feet padding cautiously to the door.

“Who is it?” you ask. Your voice is familiar and pleasant to his ears, if nervous.

“It’s me, Alec,” he replies.

It takes a second of your hesitation, but you unlock the door and open it.

He eyes your tank-top and shorts, the thin bra, your damp hair, the smell of your shampoo assaulting his heightened senses. 

But the jagged red line across your cheek draws his attention, along with the confusion in your eyes, and the wooden spoon in your hand. Was that supposed to be your weapon of choice? 

“What’re you doing here?” you ask. “How’d you even know where I live?”

“Ah, I told Normal I wanted to check on you. Make sure you weren’t going AWOL on the job tomorrow,” Alec says with a teasing smile.

You look a bit skeptical, but you let him in when he asks if he can. He smells whatever you’re cooking, spots the metal pot of pasta sauce simmering on the janky-looking stove, and his mouth starts to water. He’s starving, now that he thinks about it.

He then focuses on taking in the rest of the apartment…and it doesn’t take him long. This place is a shoebox.

At least it’s clean, as much as the peeling drywall can be.

“Why’re you here then?” you ask. Alec turns to see you have a hand on your hip. You’re staring at him like he’s a puzzle you’re trying to figure out.

You set down the wooden spoon on the counter and face him. Alec’s tempted to brush a stray strand of hair out of your eyes, but he keeps his arms down to his sides instead.

“About what happened today,” he says. “Those guys aren’t going to be a problem for you again.”

You tilt your head at him.

“What’d you do?” you ask with furrowed brows. “Something shy of legal?”

Alec starts to smile. “Maybe.”

You hmph in response. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

Alec barely resists rolling his eyes, though he knows he deserves that. Once again, he takes in your apartment. It’s cozy, he supposes, if small.

“You live alone?” he asks. “No roommate? Boyfriend?”

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business,” you say dryly. “But no. To both.” 

That satisfies him, and yet there’s a little churn in his gut. This place is questionable at best. Doesn’t exactly boast decent security. He’s not too worried about the Steelheads trying to find you, but after the past few months outside of Manticore, he realizes how rough it’s become for humanity after the Pulse, especially for a woman alone.

“You could use a doorman around here,” he remarks. 

You scoff in amusement. “Yeah, well. It may not be the Ritz, but as long as the heater doesn’t crap out on me, it’s a decent day.” 

Alec doesn’t know what the Ritz is, but it sounds nicer than this dump. 

You catch the silent look of judgment on his face, making you frown and cross your arms.

“I can take care of myself just fine, okay, Dad?”

Alec frowns and gestures to your face. “Yeah. Right. You’re little miss Fight Club.”

That sparks your temper. You glare up at him with a defiant tilt to your chin.

“This,” you point to your marred cheek, “wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for you. I’m not an idiot. I don’t put myself in stupid situations, except for that one time I ignored my better judgment to help you!”

Alec glowers back at you, but he knows he doesn’t have a good defense. You take a step into his orbit and tap a finger into his chest.

“And by the way,” you add. Your voice cracks like a whip. “Whoever taught you how to apologize did a bang up job!”

By the end of your little rant, you’re breathing deeply, and Alec is barely holding onto his own temper. What cuts through it all are the frustrated tears brimming in your eyes.

He sighs internally.

They didn’t exactly cover this in training, he thinks, but he supposes that's just…Being Human 101.

All too soon, your anger dims into defensiveness. You withdraw from him and gesture to the door.

“Now if you don’t mind, please get out of my shithole apartment so I can finish cooking in peace,” you gripe.

“Wait, wait,” Alec implores, when you try to lead him out. He lets you back him up a step or two, just to seem human, but now he digs his heels in. He looks down at you with true regret. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. His hand finds your unmarred cheek, caressing softly. His thumb swipes across your skin. “I am. I shouldn't have asked you to make that delivery. I'm sorry you got hurt.”

You stare up at him, breathing labored, and making your breasts just barely brush his sternum. Your eyes search his just as much as he is yours.  

He isn’t actually sure who moves first, him or you. But when his lips meet yours, it feels like electricity under his skin. It’s magnets that are meant to connect—it’s his arms wrapping around your waist like steel bands and you grabbing his face, sinking your fingers into his sandy brown hair.

It’s teeth clicking and tongues warring as he backs you up to the kitchen counter, and he hefts you up there by your hips.

You squeal in surprise, making Alec chuckle before he swallows your sounds with his mouth.

You start to push his jacket off his shoulders, and he helps you, letting the rest of it slide right off, followed by his shirt and your tank top. His hands smooth up your bare thighs and his thumbs dip in between, squeezing near the apex of your thighs and making you tremble against his chest. Warmth pools in your core even from that simple touch.

“W-Wait,” you whisper. 

It makes Alec pause. His muscles tense. Has he read you wrong? 

He searches your face for a sign of discomfort. If you don’t want this, it’ll be…hard, at this point (for more reasons than one). But if he has to, he’ll let you go.

He’s relieved when you only twist away for a moment to turn off the stove. You return to him with a smile as your hands come to rest on his chest. You bite your lower lip. 

“Shall we continue?” he teases. 

His thumb encourages you to let go of your lip. He takes your chin between his fingers and guides you back to him.

The next kiss burns with a slower passion. One that consumes you enough to hook your arms around his neck and your legs around his hips. 

He grins against your lips and lifts you again, this time holding you firmly against him. You make another sound of surprise, but you don’t let that stop you from delving deeper into his kiss. 

He carries you into the bedroom and slams the rickety door.

Afterwards, the two of you lay together on the wrong side of your bed. 

Alec lies on his stomach and you on your back. The night had gotten such that you stopped caring which side you typically put your pillow on. Your hair is fanned out on the mattress in many tangles he took pride in creating.

A shitty show plays on your small TV, but Alec is watching with rapt attention. 

He’s kind of cute about it actually, you think. Like he’s never seen a soap opera before. 

“Ooh, that one’s my favorite,” you point backwards. “It’s about a sexy doctor, obviously.”

“Right, because I’m sure doctors always have this much sex with their patients,” Alec quips. 

You snort and shake your head. You stare at the side of his face for a moment, rather than the TV. 

The back of his hand rubs against your shoulder, earning your attention. 

“What’re you thinking?” he asks. He’s still looking at the screen.

“That I’m even hungrier now, but I don’t feel like getting up,” you admit with a giggle. He laughs.

“I wouldn’t mind some chow,” he says. 

You roll onto your stomach, taking some of the sheets with you when your knee slides over, resting against his naked lower back. You lean your chin on his shoulder as your hand travels across his back. 

“Is that your way of inviting yourself over for dinner?” you ask. 

He looks over at you then. He’s grinning, but his eyes are a touch softer, you think.

“If you don’t mind me crashing,” he says.

You shake your head and sift your fingers through his hair. Your gaze drifts down the back of his neck and catches on a strange mark. It’s a barcode, you realize, touching it lightly with two fingers. 

“What’s this? A prison tat?” you tease. 

He chuckles humorlessly. “Sort of.”

Your amusement fades, but your soft fingers along the back of his neck elicit a small shiver out of him. Your touch is gentle. He isn’t used to gentle, and it makes goosebumps spread across his skin. He feels your lips press a kiss to his shoulder next, and he turns his head to look at you. 

Beautiful, he thinks, taking in your face again, and the hint of cleavage down the sheets covering you, hiding the familiar curves he had all too much fun exploring.

“You gonna tell me the story?” you ask. “Or save it for a rainy day?”

Alec lets out a sigh through his nose. “Let’s pencil that one under the ‘Rainy’ column.”

You nod in agreement and bite your lip. These days, everyone has a story they’re not proud of. Even something that keeps them up at night. You don’t press Alec for his.

He’s grateful for that. He leans in and kisses you, nice and slow.

From the beginning, he noticed you. Your tenacity. Your quiet confidence. How you’re always willing to help your friends, and how you’ve never taken any of his shit, even if he knew part of you had been contemplating his suggestive offers. That spark always kept him coming back for more…and somehow, it became more.

In the back of his mind, this scares him a little. Being with you feels dangerous in a way that feels both familiar and foreign, but it’s too late. He’s been hooked by the pull of you. It’s a craving he can’t help but try and fill. Hopefully, not just tonight.  

“You said something about food?” he grins.

You smile and lean in again, until you’re mere inches from his lips. 

“Hmm, impromptu dinner date?” you offer. Alec laughs quietly and nods.

“We kinda went about this backwards,” you say, “but if you like spaghetti and plain sauce, I’m your girl.”

He smirks at that, and thumbs at your chin.

“Then you’re my girl.”

AN: And there's Part 1! It's only my second time writing Alec, so I hope he feels in character. Let me know what you think of this little series so far. 😘💜

There's much more in store over the next three parts, and the next one tackles perhaps my favorite episode (2.11), even if it's the most gutting.

Next Time:

“All right, that’s enough outta you,” Alec says, and he claims you with a more demanding kiss. His fingers sink into your hair tightly.  

But you press your hand to his cheek, making him pause for a moment. The amusement fades from his eyes the longer he stares into yours. You’re not teasing or joking anymore. 

You kiss him then with meaning. With tenderness. 

You don’t know how it makes that coil of guilt grip him like a vice.

Keep Reading: PART 2

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[vintageshanny]

Waiting for Love - Part Six

Love is Sufficient

Content: December 1970, not too much angst in this part, mostly smut, fluff, and a heartfelt conversation in a cemetery. 18+ Comments and feedback are welcome and appreciated! ❤️

Catch up here: Waiting for Love series

Vivien buried her face in Elvis’ chest and inhaled his scent - an intoxicating mixture of cologne, cigars, and his own natural pheromones. Any hope she’d had of playing it cool or breaking things off was out the window.

“Does this mean ya missed me baby?” Elvis asked softly as he gently cradled the back of her neck. Vivien nodded and sniffled into his velvety jacket. She tried to hold back the tears, but her shoulders started shaking as the sobs broke free. “Honey, what’s the matter? Why ya cryin’?”

“Why, why did you disappear?” she gasped out desperately. “I needed you.”

“Baby, I didn’t disappear. I-I-I was jus’ tryin’ ta give ya a break from me like ya asked.” Elvis swallowed guiltily. He supposed on some level he had wanted Vivien to realize it was a mistake to want space from him, but he never meant to make her feel this sad.

“I didn’t want a break from you, Elvis. I wanted a break from feeling like I’m not enough for you.”

“Honey, you are more than enough for me. You’re all I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout.” Elvis squeezed her tighter as her arms slipped under his coat and wrapped around his warm torso. “I told ya things are jus’ complicated right now.”

“But I want you to be mine,” Vivien said in a muffled whisper through the fabric of his jacket.

“Love possesses not,” Elvis whispered into her ear, and that word “love” again hung in the air, making her heart skip a beat. “Ya need ta trust me that I’ll make everything okay.”

“I know,” Vivien sighed. “I was trying, but I got scared. I’m sorry,” she said, looking up at him, her eyes still brimming with tears.

“I know honey, shh, ‘s okay,” Elvis soothed. “I-I-I jus’ wanna know that you’re in this with me. I need ya too, y’know.”

“You do?” Vivien asked with surprise, more hot tears spilling over and sliding down her cheeks.

“Oh, honey, ya have no idea how much I need ya.” Elvis leaned down and softly kissed each eyelid, the wet salty taste lingering on his lips. “Ya been good for me, baby?” His hands started to wander down from the back of her neck, caressing her curves with their substantial warmth. “Nobody been touchin’ what belongs ta me, hmm?” One of his hands started creeping under the hem of her knit A-line skirt. Vivien couldn’t help but smile at his cute contradictions. Even if he couldn’t be all hers right now, at least she belonged to him.

She shook her head and whispered “The only two people who’ve touched me are here in this room,” a blush creeping over her face at this admission.

Elvis stifled a groan as he reached back to lock the door and led Vivien over to the couch. “Ya had ta take care of yourself, baby?”

“I tried,” Vivien said, feeling her face growing even hotter. “It wasn’t the same as having you with me though.”

“Wh-wh-what were ya thinkin’ ‘bout when ya did it?” Elvis removed his jacket and tossed it to the side.

“About you, of course,” Vivien admitted, her voice dropping to a whisper. “About how good it feels when you touch me. And how badly I want to feel you inside of me.”

Elvis’ own face started turning red, his heart pounding with desire. “W-w-would ya show me what ya did?” His tone was low and gravelly, his eyes filled with lust as he reached around and unzipped her skirt.

“Oh, no, Elvis,” Vivien exclaimed as her skirt pooled at her ankles. “I, um, I don’t know if I can, I mean, I’m sorry, I’m so embarrassed.”

“Ya ain’t never gotta be embarrassed around me, baby. Please do it for me.” Elvis put on his little pouty face that melted her heart as he started unbuttoning her chevron blouse.

“Hmm I don’t know, have you been good for me?” Vivien teased as he removed her blouse, leaving her standing before him in just her white lace-trimmed bra and panties.

Elvis bit his bottom lip as he looked her up and down with that crooked smile. “Vivien, my, uh, cocoon ain’t been in nobody else’s mouth,” he said with a wink. “Plus I’m startin’ ta think he only wants ta come out when you’re around. I know he sho’ would be glad if ya let him see what you’ve been up to while he was away.”

“Okay,” Vivien finally agreed nervously, trembling a little bit as she started to remove her panties.

“W-w-wait, honey, hold on, c-c-can ya jus’ start with those on?” Elvis asked, feeling himself starting to grow in his pants.

“Um, okay, I guess I can do that.” Vivien sat down on the dark brown couch and Elvis perched on the low coffee table right across from her. “Um, what should I do first? I mean, what do you want to see? I’m sorry, I’m so nervous,” Vivien started rambling, trying to stop her jaw from trembling.

Elvis put his hands on her legs and rubbed them soothingly. “Baby, ‘s okay, it’s jus’ me and you here. I would never hurt ya, Vivien, I promise, I just’ want ya ta feel good. Jus’ do whatever makes ya feel good.” Vivien nodded as Elvis gently spread her legs open and placed one foot on either side of him on the coffee table. He groaned as she slowly reached her hand down between her legs and traced her fingertips over the thin fabric of her panties. She blushed as she felt it dampening, little moans starting to escape her lips. She used her free hand to pull down her bra straps, the thin fabric falling to expose her breasts, whimpering as she rolled one hardened nipple between her fingers.

“Vivien, y-y-you’re so beautiful,” Elvis whispered as he started to rub his hand over the crotch of his pants. “Wh-wh-what else do ya do when ya think ‘bout me? L-l-let me see ya, baby.” Vivien closed her eyes nervously and pulled the fabric of her panties to the side. “Oh, goddamn,” Elvis breathed out as she fully exposed her little bush and glistening folds to him. “Honey, c-c-can ya touch yourself and l-look at me when ya do it?” he instructed softly. Vivien forced herself to look him in the eyes as she reached down with her other hand and used her middle finger to swipe through the wetness and play with her little nub. The way Elvis looked at her with such tenderness and awe as she softly moaned his name made her feel a level of intimacy that surprised her. “That’s it honey, play with that little button,” Elvis murmured as he reached to undo his belt. Vivien watched, mesmerized, as he unzipped his pants and pulled his thick hard penis out, groaning with pleasure as he rubbed his thumb over the tip. Something about seeing him pleasure himself drove Vivien toward the edge.

“Oh, God, Elvis, I need you!” she cried out as she frantically chased that high, her inexperienced fingers searching for the right rhythm.

“I got ya, baby.” Elvis leaned forward and, still stroking himself with one hand, reached the index finger of his other hand inside Vivien’s tight hole, pumping gently until her orgasm washed over her, her whole body trembling. Vivien watched as he licked his fingers clean, all the while methodically jerking at his pulsing member. His panting quickened as Vivien leaned down and took him in her mouth, her tongue swirling over the sensitive tip of him. “Oh, Vivien!” he moaned loudly as he spilled into her sweet mouth. Now that she knew what to expect, she swallowed him down more easily. Before leaning back on the couch, she gave a sweet kiss to his softening cock that sent a little shiver through him. “Wow,” Elvis whispered as he tucked himself back into his pants. “You’re really somethin’, ya know that?”

Vivien smiled as she straightened her bra and panties. “I really liked seeing you, uh, touch yourself like that,” she said bashfully. “It was very sexy.”

Elvis’ face turned beet red as he played with one of his rings. “Likewise, baby,” he murmured.

“Y’know, you’re very cute when you get all embarrassed,” Vivien teased, feeling somewhat emboldened by this new level of intimacy.

“I’m not embarrassed,” Elvis protested, still blushing.

“Mm-hm, okay,” Vivien laughed as she intertwined her fingers with his.

Elvis looked down at the way their hands fit together, seemingly lost in thought for a minute. “Get dressed baby, I-I-I wanna show ya somethin’.”

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

Twenty minutes later, they were driving the winding path through Forest Hill Cemetery. Elvis had been quiet on the drive over, just tracing his fingers absentmindedly over Vivien’s knee. She looked at him questioningly as he pulled the car over to the side and put it in park. But he just silently got out and came around to open her door, offering her his hand for assistance. He clung tightly to it as they wound their way through the graves. She could tell he had traveled this exact path many times.

Elvis came to a stop in front of a modest headstone with statues of angels behind it. The headstone was engraved with the name “Gladys Love Presley.” He gave Vivien’s hand a squeeze before letting go and crouching down in front of the grave. He used his bare hands to lovingly brush the dirt and debris away. A lone tear slid down Vivien’s cheek as she watched him place his hand on the stone and close his eyes in silent prayer.

“Sit with me and my mama for a minute,” he said, reaching up to her with a small smile. Vivien sat down on the ground, tucking her legs under her and carefully arranging her skirt over them. She let out a little shiver as the coolness of the ground soaked into her. “Ya cold, honey?” Elvis asked, noticing she was wearing just a thin blue sweater over her blouse. “Here, lemme take care of ya.” He slipped off his velvet jacket and draped it over her shoulders, his warm scent enveloping her. He sat on the cold ground next to her and took her hand in his.

“I bet your mama’s real proud of what a kind, loving man you are,” Vivien said, looking into his beautiful blue eyes. Elvis seemed almost overwhelmed by the compliment, his eyes brimming with tears as he looked away.

“Thank ya, honey, th-that’s real sweet of ya ta say. I sure hope she is proud. All I ever wanted was ta take care of her. I-I-I hope she knows how hard I tried,” he whispered, a tear spilling down his cheek.

“Of course she knows, Elvis. If I can see how good your heart is, certainly your mama knows.”

“She woulda liked ya, honey,” Elvis said with a small smile.

“You think so?” Vivien asked, feeling pleased at the thought.

“Oh, definitely. She woulda loved how sweet ya are, and how ya always see the best in me.” He rubbed his thumb softly over the back of her hand. “And she definitely woulda liked your Christmas decorations,” he added, making Vivien smile. Elvis stared down at their hands as he continued. “I-I think a lot about what advice she might give me if she were here now.”

“What do you think she’d say?” Vivien asked softly.

“Well, my mama, she always followed her heart, y’know? And she taught me ta be the same. B-b-but it’s hard sometimes cuz I don’ like ta see people be hurt. And it’s hard ta end somethin’ without hurtin’ anyone, e-e-even if ya know somethin’ better’s waitin’ on the other side. Do ya understand what I’m sayin’ to ya, honey?” Elvis asked hopefully.

Vivien nodded slowly. “I do, Elvis. It’s just that-”

“Sweetheart, please understand,” Elvis interrupted. “I-I-I know it’s gonna feel the same at first, like I have ta leave and then you’re sad. But I jus’ need a little time ta figure it out, and then we’ll be happy together, okay? Don’t push away from me. The love we feel for each other will have ta be enough for a little bit, okay? Can ya do that, Vivien?”

“The love we feel?” Vivien asked, her mind reeling and her heart racing.

“Well, yeah, Vivien baby, ya know I love ya,” Elvis responded as if he weren’t making her world stop in this moment.

“I love you too, Elvis.” Vivien tried to memorize every detail of the beautiful smile that spread across his face at this admission.

“Well, good. So are ya in this with me then?”

“We’re in it together,” Vivien whispered as she leaned over and planted a kiss on his soft lips.

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

“Elvis?” Vivien asked. They had stopped for a hamburger after leaving the cemetery and were now snuggled up together in her bed, the TV playing softly in the background.

“Yes, baby?” Elvis murmured. He sounded sleepy.

“I feel bad that I didn’t come see you perform when you asked me to. I really wanted to see you up on that stage, my handsome man.”

Elvis smiled into the back of her neck. “It’s okay, baby, I forgive ya. And trust me, there’ll be plenty of chances for ya ta see me perform. I can’t wait ta show ya what I can do.” He rolled his hips into her with a laugh.

Vivien giggled and turned her head to look at him. “Speaking of that, um, when do you think you’ll make love to me? Y’know, now that we love each other.” She turned her face the other way to hide her blush.

Elvis chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “I don’t wanna rush ya at all, sweetheart. We got plenty of time for that. You’ll know when the time feels right, and you’ll let me know.”

“Okay,” Vivien whispered, pulling his arm tight around her, drifting off to the sound of his steady breathing.

When she woke the next morning, Elvis’ warm body was not there, and for a split second she panicked, thinking it had all been a beautiful dream. But there was a note on the pillow next to her.

Baby, I had to take care of some things but I’ll be in touch real soon. Remember were in this together. Love is sufficient unto love.

-EP

She knew it was silly, but Vivien pressed her lips to the note and then held it to her heart. He loved her. She needed to just hold onto that for now and wait for the rest to come.

Tag List: @whositmcwhatsit @lookingforrainbows @arrolyn1114 @thatbanditqueen @missmaywemeetagain @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @from-memphis-with-love @pebbles403 @deniseinmn @everythingelvispresley @little-laamb @annapresley8 @leapresley @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @atleastpleasetelephone @gatheraheart @richardslady121 @helen06dreamer @arg-xoxo

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖙 [Teaser] 🔞

They told you to be careful with him, that he's much more than meets the eye, but you'd been convinced that you had him all figured out; all bark and no bite, just like any other big buff alpha you've met before. Oh how wrong you were.

Tags/Warnings: (here we go...) werewolf!kook, Alpha!kook, werewolf!reader, omega!reader, some angst, blood and fighting, we love drama, strangers to mates, soulmate AU, major injury, hurt & Comfort, fluff, Primal Play, slight powerplay (mc fights for dominance but looses), biting, rough manhandling, Dom!Jungkook, protected sex (an implant is mentioned we practice safe sex even in our imagination after all), Size kink because it's me writing this get over it, strength kink because it's me writing this get over it², spitting oops, spanking oops², mean dom kook, scratching oops³, orgasm control, knotting oops⁴, happy ending Yay

Length: unsure, approx. 5 chapters, ~2k words each.

A/N: Hi hello look it's technically not a hybrid fic. Also yes this teaser contains partial smut so please do not read this at church or your mom's birthday thanks.

🌘.━━━━━━━━━━.🌕.━━━━━━━━━━━.🌒

"Hm, but I'll play with you, won't you like that, hm?" He hums into your ear, and you melt underneath his words, easily nodding at his proposal, because you've waited way too long for this.

He's finally made his move, and you're gonna enjoy every last second of it.

"You think I haven't heard you talk to Jimin about me, don't you?" He suddenly brings up, inked arm reaching over your thigh so his hand can cup your heat- harshly so, forcing your body upright even, and you can't help but mewl at the way it puts pressure on your aching core. "You think I don't know how you yap about me to your friends hm? How you call me nothing but what? A 'bitch in heat', wasn't it?" He recalls, and you whimper a bit because you did call him that.

You called him a lot of other nasty things, and you do regret it a little. Just a tiny bit though. Or maybe a lot.

"Yeah well-" you huff impatiently, throwing your head back over his shoulder. "-You're all talk and nothing more." You complain. "You'll just- you just wanna fuck me and then toss me aside like everyone else!" You tell him with a slightly angry bite to your tone, and he clicks his tongue, fingers of his effortlessly opening the buttons of your shorts.

"Stupid omega-bullshit." You blame, hips moving impatiently as you curl your toes from the sensation. He shakes his head.

"And yet you let me." He chuckles, and you want to cry. Because you do let him fuck you over like this, right now. You do, with full knowledge of the consequences after. But you also want him, because he's got these.. glimpses of something you've never had before.

These moments of actual happiness, actual care and gentle adoration- something similar to the love everyone always gushes about around you, the thing you've never quite experienced before. "Why, I wonder." He asks you, while his fingers easily dip in between your legs, slick making it easy for him to move around.

"I think you know why." He shakes his head however, free hand moving to pull you up properly against his chest again, perched up on his thigh, legs spread open while your shorts and underwear pool at your ankles. "You know exactly why you let me, and why I'm doing this in the first place." He offers, and you don't answer.

Cause you're not sure. If it's not your omega hormones, then what? Is he going to come at you with some fated soulmate bullshit?

"You've got me tangled around your fingers, darling, and you don't even know it." Jungkook tells you with ear amusement in his tone, voice vibrating against your back. "Your body is calling out to me, and only me, isn't it?" He wonders, two fingers dipping inside you, finally giving you something at last. "You crave me, and can't bear the thought of anyone else touching you like this." He explains, while he leans in to let his lips run over the skin near your ear, searching for where your scent is strongest. "You feel empty without my touch, cold without my presence, lonely without my eyes on you." He goes on, and you want to cry out of frustration because first of all how does he know, and second of all why can't you fucking cum?!

"You know I'm right." The alpha wolf tells you. "Because I feel the exact same things." He offers.

"Wha-" you start, before you're interrupted by a specific motion of his fingers inside you, legs kicking out.

"Dont act so surprised." He mumbles against your skin, watching from above how you squirm in his grip, arm holding you close while the other plays around with you. "Its not like I'm hiding anything from you or anyone else." Jungkook chuckles. "Not like you, that is." He teasingly bites at your earlobe, making you shudder.

You're absolutely boneless in his grip right now, close to crying as he keeps your final high always a breath away.

"You're testing my patience, darling." The wolf continues, really making sure you know he's truly playing with you. "One moment you want me, the next you don't. Who's really playing a cruel game here, I wonder?" He accuses, and now you're really close to tears, but for different reasons.

"I dont-" you start, moving your legs in desperation. "- Wanna talk 'bout that now.." you whine, and he clicks his tongue.

"You don't ever want to." He almost growls. "And I'm sick of it, darling." He says, the pet name said almost like a threat, harsh and sharp. "You either talk-" he starts, and you're sweating at what cruel thing he's got in mind. "-or I'm leaving you."

And you know that by leaving, he's not only talking about his hand between your legs.

And that- the prospect of him leaving you alone- finally breaks the floodgates, making you cry.

Because you dont want him to leave.

Not anymore.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

For the kiss ask, I will exercise some self control and ask for only one, even if I want to ask for like twenty 😅

For the pairing, I'm thinking Frankie and Bonnie (which oddly enough, the last time you did a prompt ask, I requested the same pair) and #27 "Kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other's lap". Please and thank you 😄

Thanks very much for the ask! Oh, Frankie and Bonnie, how I've missed them! I'm happy you decided to go with those two.

Pairing: Frankie x chubby!reader (aka Bonnie). For more of this pair, go to my Forever Starts With You masterlist.

Warnings: reader is self conscious in a swimsuit but everything is fine because Frankie is perfect, and then there's kissing.

Summary: You and Frankie go to a pool party.

Okay so that gif is not by a pool but whatever

You have no idea how Frankie got you to agree to this. This is literally your nightmare.

The sun is shining, the audio system is pumping out something upbeat, people are talking and laughing – and everyone is in swimwear, or something tiny and summery. And no one is fat, of course, no one except you.

One of Frankie’s military buddies invited the two of you to a pool party and it’s really not your scene, least of all because of your size. You fretted for weeks before the party, went to the most expensive lingerie store in town and bought a disgustingly expensive swimsuit that looks amazing on you – but you are still overweight. Your skin still turns lobster red in the sun. You spent even more money on a kaftan dress that you probably won’t wear again, and only then did Frankie realize that you were dreading the party.

”We don’t have to go,” he told you, but you shook your head.

”You want to go.”

Frankie loves the sun and summer. You don’t mind it but you burn easily and with your weight and body, everything is sweaty and slippery and uncomfortable in the summer. And to put your body on display like that.

”You don’t have to wear a swimsuit,” Frankie tried.

”Then everyone will know exactly how uncomfortable I am,” you pointed out. ”It’s a pool party, of course I have to wear a swimsuit!”

So here you are, in your expensive outfit, with sparkly sandals on your feet and a straw hat on your head, your flickering gaze hidden behind dark sunglasses.

”You look amazing,” Frankie assures you in a warm whisper at your ear. ”I’m proud as hell to have you by my side.”

His arm is around you, and you feel more confident as he kisses your cheek, before steering you to wards the host couple. You are introduced, your kaftan is admired, you’re handed drinks, you make small talk until the next guest arrives, and you can retire to the side. You wave at Benny, who’s in the pool with someone in a triangle bikini on his shoulders. She shrieks when he tosses her into the water.

”You wanna go swimming?” Frankie asks, but you shake your head.

”Absolutely not.” You sip the margarita, and make a little noise.

”Christ, this margarita is good.”

”Lemme have a taste.” Frankie’s holding a beer, but you hand him your drink, and he sips it, licking his lips as he hands it back to you.

”That thing’s deadly. Enough of those, and I’ll get you to not only come swimming with me, but also perform a whole musical, Bonnie.”

You scoff at the nickname his friends once gave you after a particularly wet night during which you performed Total Eclipse of the Heart.

”I learned my lesson that night,” you shudder. The hangover you suffered from the following day was epic and you have no wish to repeat it, ever.

You mingle, talking to people, getting another drink and some snacks. You relax as you realize what you already knew deep inside: nobody cares about your size and what you’re wearing, all everyone wants is to have a good time.

You stay later than expected, and when the sun has set and the pool area is lit up by string lights, you finally go swimming. The pool water is a little warmer than you prefer after a day of sunny weather, but that just makes it nicer to get out of the water, into the cooling night. You walk around the pool, heading for Frankie in a chaise lounge, and you smile widely when you see that he is ogling you, a new beer in hand. When you reach him, he reluctantly hands you a towel, like he doesn’t want you to cover up just yet.

”Good swim?” he asks you in a low voice that vibrates along the length of your spine. You have to lick your lips before you can answer.

”It was okay. The water was too warm.”

He makes a sympathetic grimace but says nothing more. Instead, you can see how he caresses the curves of your body with his eyes. You give him a little shove.

”Hey, stop eye-fucking me.”

”Never.”

He smirks at you, and you grin back.

”I don’t think this is the right place for that, baby.”

”Anywhere is the right place with you looking like that.”

You roll your eyes to let him know just what you think of him being so simple about a woman in a swimsuit. Frankie takes your hand and gives it a light tug.

”Come on, sit.” He pats his thighs with his other hand.

Normally, you would hesitate. Sitting on his lap, even in the privacy of your home, isn’t something you enjoy much, because of your weight. But you’ve had a great day, you’re crazy in love with him, and you’re buzzing from several margaritas over the course of the afternoon, so you yield. Sitting down, you carefully try to distribute your weight, but Frankie doesn’t care as he slips his arms around you, happily staring into your cleavage that is, conveniently enough, right in front of him.

”Perfect,” he sighs happily, and you have to giggle.

”You are such a man.”

”Totally am.” His finger traces a feathery line along your spine, making you shiver. ”And you don’t mind at all, do you?”

You have to admit that it boosts your self esteem to have him look at you like that.

”I mind that I’m sitting here all hot and pretty, and you haven’t kissed me once yet,” you tell him off, and Frankie laughs before leaning in to brush his lips against yours.

”You could have asked, querida.”

”I thought you were clever enough to understand what was expected of you,” you retort, your tongue flicking out at his lips.

”Clearly not...” His mouth closes over yours in a soft kiss before opening, moving a little, then closing again. You cup his cheek with one hand, the other losing itself in the curls at the nape of his neck. Frankie rests one hand on your wet thigh, innocent-looking enough, but his fingertips are digging a little into the soft flesh, reminding you of how he can grip you when his face is buries in the apex of your thighs. His other hand is on your lower back, making slow little circles on your wet skin as you kiss.

”Maybe it’s time we go home?” you suggest in a soft sigh against his lips. He smiles, and shakes his head.

”Not yet. I want to show you off a little longer. Okay?”

You smile back, cheeks feeling warm.

”Okay.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 27

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, car sex, Lloyd being the worst, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Lloyd’s absence does not extend to your dreams. Your nights are haunted by him, horrifying premonitions of your future together. Rather apart. You’re trapped in that house, alone, with a screaming baby, a child that grows to resent you, that drains you dry and blames you for being a husk.

Under his thumb, even from a distance. 

The haze swirls and another twisted scene paints your unconscious. You hear his voice first, a long groan, and hiss shortened behind his teeth, a harsh snarl which resembles, “son of a dick.” Footsteps surround you, softened deliberately as they circle the room, a snap, a click, and a loud scrape.

You grunt and your eyes slit, the room darkened with shadows, static with your fatigue. You search through the dim, a black figure leaning against the dresser, broad shoulders and a dipped head. It’s not a dream. He’s back.

Three and a half weeks. Not a word from him. None from you either.

You suppress a moan as you sit up, a twang in your hips, and reach to turn on the lamp. The glow burst around the room and limns the dark stains pooling slickly across his dark clothing. He drags his foot and turns to face you, leaning on the dresser so it knocks against the wall. You sigh.

“Is this how it’s going to be? You leave without a word and come back… like this?”

He says nothing as he pushes his head to the side. His jaw squares beneath a thick layer of stubble. He turns and uses one hand to guide the other onto the painted wood. He takes a breath and withholds a rumble that nestles in his chest as he slams his weight down and you hear his shoulder pop. He sighs and leans his head back.

“Shit,” he growls and bends his arm gingerly, not quite able to get it all the way. He stretches his fingers and shakes them out.

A whole month. He’s missed a whole month of your pregnancy. Sloughed you off on his parents like an orphan. Is that what this child is going to be to him?

You turn your back to him and swipe up the pillow and grip the bed frame. You’re even bigger now. It takes two tries to haul your ass up off the mattress. The couch is even less hospitable for your burning hip bones.

“Stay,” he says, “please.”

“Lloyd–”

“Give me a fucking second,” he sneers, “I…” He begins, “I need your help, peaches.”

You stop and slowly face him across the bed. He peels off his black turtleneck awkwardly as his left arm refuses to raise all the way. The fabric catches on something along his back and he tugs with a grunt. He reveals the bruises up his torso, several formidable slashes along his side. The blood makes you queasy.

“I can’t reach this,” he turns and shows his back, the broken blade of a knife jutting out from the muscle around his ribs.

“Jesus Christ, Lloyd, I’m gonna fucking puke,” you drop the pillow back to the bed and cover your mouth.

“I’m gonna be honest, I already did,” he chuckles as he limps around the foot of the bed.

He surpasses you and disappears into the bathroom. You wait, frozen as the sight of him sears into your retinas. What the fuck was he doing?

He returns and tosses the white kit on the bed. He spins and sits with a wheezy grunt as he winces. His hand tremors as he rolls his eyes back.

“You wanna grab a cloth and put pressure around the wound, then pull the blade straight. Don’t wiggle it–”

“Lloyd, you need a doctor–”

“Doctor’s ask questions,” he frowns, the gash in his brow made more obvious by his expression, “you can do it, peaches. I’ve had worse–”

You’re quiet as you gulp back bile. He has a lot of faith in you. A lot of trust that you won’t twist the blade deeper to hear him suffer. You click your tongue and go to grab some hand towels from the linen closet.

He turns on the bed, hovering awkwardly on the edge as he presents his back. You reluctantly wipe around the blade, nearly gagging as you press the cloth around it and grip the shorn end with your fingers. You retch but hold it back.

“You’re doing fine, sweetheart,” Lloyd grits out, his fingers clutched around a fold in the blankets, “once you get that thing out, you need put as much pressure on it as you–”

You pull and the blade slides out slowly. He roars and curls forward as he quakes. His visible agony is both satisfying and startling. You get the metal free and push the cloth flat over the wound, the slippery blade falling from your grasp.

“Oh god, are you sure you shouldn’t see a professional?”

“I’ve been stabbed before. He didn’t hit anything important.”

“Didn’t– Before?” You scoff, “Christ.”

“What did I tell you? The less you know, the better.”

You’re silent as you keep the cloth firm against him. He groans and sits up straight. You have a thousand thoughts swirling in your head, some angry, some confused, others even worried.

“You gotta stitch me up,” he says, “you know how to sew…”

“I’m gonna barf,” you look over at the curve needle in the kit.

“Well, just aim it away from me,” he clucks, “peaches, you just gotta sterilise me, then a few stitches should do the job.”

You take a breath, your tongue slimy with a nauseous sheen. He reaches for the kits and wipes the blood from his hands with one of the pre-packaged alcohol wipes. He then peels open the little packet with the needle and threads it with expert precision. He holds it out for you to see.

You take it shakily and ease back the cloth with your other hand. You cringe as your lashes flutter. You shudder and try to steady your grip. You poke the tip into his skin and another gag lumps in your throat. You manage to pierce through to the other side and weave the thread into his flesh. You swallow and take a deep breath.

“So…” you have to talk, you can’t think about what you're doing, “you left.”

“Work,” he says bluntly.

“Mm, it’s been almost a month.”

“You didn’t want me around.”

You huff. You jab him a bit too harshly and he grunts. You correct course and sniff.

“I wanted you to make a goddamn effort beyond getting your dick hard,” you snap.

“I was making a goddamn effort. I was making money for our little girl.”

You shake your head, “sure. While I’m stuck here.”

“Not alone–”

“So fucking what? You let your parents do the heavy lifting, huh? Never do anything yourself.”

“Oh, don’t–”

“No, Lloyd,” you pull the thread tight and knot it. He gives you the scissors as you snap your fingers, “you don’t. I won’t do this. I’m not going to have this… baby only for you to run off whenever you feel like it. Do you think this is going to be a vacation? My body is going to be ruined, I’m going to be miserable, and you’re going to go find someone else to torment.”

You cut the wire and strain as you push yourself back to your feet. You go around him and toss the scissors and unused tail of thread into the kit, “I know you, Lloyd Hansen, too well.”

His nose flares and his eyes list away, “I told you, I don’t want anyone else. You need to let that go–”

“Fuck you,” you spit out. “I’m human, Lloyd, unlike you. Yeah, it fucking hurts to be the one tossed away for some bimbo blonde. Is that what you want to hear? That I have fucking feelings.”

He blinks. A long blink. “I know. Peaches,” he looks at you, “it’s one of the many things I admire in you.” 

You’re taken aback by the authenticity in his voice, in his expression. It’s not some comment on your ass or your tits, it’s damn near a real compliment.

“I’m sorry, I really am. And I heard you. You wanted space, you got it. But you gotta listen to me too, sweet cheeks.”

“Sure,” you say dully, “what? What did I do this time?”

He squints and his forehead wrinkles, “baby. Kid. Why won’t you say it? Girl? We’re having a little girl. A daughter.”

You take a breath, your shoulders rise and fall. You look at him, take him in, blood, sweat, and who knows what else.

“Fine, girl. Daughter. I get it Lloyd, I got it from day one. About time you do, too.”

He purses his lips and his throat bobs, “yeah, I guess you got me there.” 

He stands, slightly slouched as the pain twitches in his cheek. He grasps the top of his pants as he takes an uneven step.

“Peaches, I’m holding back the horny but I do need some help with these,” he says as he limps toward the bathroom, “gotta wash all this shit off me.”

“Mhmm,” you say as you follow him, “and I gotta change the damn sheets.” You nudge him so he exclaims, “always making a goddamn mess.

“Yeah, well, you’re so good at cleaning it up,” he chortles as he grasps the doorframe, “Peaches, you’re gonna be a great mother.”

“Shut up,” you retort, “it’s late and you smell.”

[kpop---scenarios]

Lost & Found (4)

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

“Daddy!” Jaehyun screams, running into Baekhyun's arms. Everyday, no matter where you were or who was home first, Baekhyun was the one that Jaehyun was the most excited to see. It made you sad that you needed to leave this house, this life that you had built but Jaehyun was your first priority and you would do anything you needed to keep him safe.

“How was your day buddy?” Baekhyun asks Jaehyun as the three of you walk into the house.

“I had so much fun!” He says. Baekhyun puts him down as you set down your purse.

“Jae, why don't you go play in your room?” You half smile at him. He runs off to his room without a thought.

“What's up?” Baekhyun asks you. “Somethings wrong.”

“San.. he um showed up at the daycare. He tried to take Jaehyun but he wasn't on the list. He told Jae to tell me he'll see me soon. We need to leave.” You sniffle. You could feel the tears pooling in your eyes as Baekhyun looks at you. “I would never ask you to leave your life here but I love you and I want you to be with us, but I don't think we have a choice.” You whisper. You're shaking, trying to figure out what the fuck you're going to do.

“Baby.” Baekhyun starts. “You always have a choice but I'd hope by now you'd realize I'm in it for the long haul. You wanna stay and fight him, I've got your back. If you wanna pack the house up tonight and go somewhere far away I'm in. Whatever makes you feel safest I'm down.” He smiles. Baekhyun holds onto your hands as he looks into your eyes. You want to run, but would that really solve anything?

That night as you tossed and turned in your bed, you had finally made your decision.

You were going to stay put for now, but you didn't want to let San intimidate you anymore. You were stronger than you were when you were with him and you'd never let him get his hands on your son. Unfortunately for you, you severely underestimated the lengths he was willing to go too.

The next day, you were prepared for San to pull something, but nothing came. You went to work, Jaehyun went to daycare and the day went on without a hitch. The next day was the exact same. Your anxiety never calmed, because you knew San and you knew what he was capable of. Which was anything. The next day, Wednesday, the day went by as it usually did, until your phone began to ring. You checked the caller ID and there was the daycare calling. Your stomach sank. Your hand shook as you answered, whispering the hello.

“Hi Y/N.” She says. “I don't mean to worry you, but Jaehyun had a little fall this afternoon. He's okay, he was checked out by the nurse and no concussion or anything like that. But he does have a pretty nasty goose egg on his forehead. I'm so sorry.”

The sigh of relief you let out was unreal. Of course you were upset your child was hurt, but you were just glad it had nothing to do with San.

“Thank you for letting me know. Is he okay? Should I grab him now?” you ask.

“It's up to you, he's okay, he has been asking for you though.” She answers.

“I'll come pick him up. Thank you for the call. See you soon.” You say, hanging up the phone before gathering your belongings. You quickly explain the situation to your boss and she of course has no issues with you leaving. You drove to the daycare and Jaehyun immediately ran into your arms, breaking down into tears.

“Oh my baby.” You coo. “should we go get some ice cream to help you feel better?” You ask. Jaehyun backs away from you, a giant smile on his face as he nods his head. You grab his hand and walk out to the car with your son.

A little bit later you're sitting on the bench, eating your ice cream as Jaehyun plays at the park. You're on the phone with Baekhyun while Jaehyun runs around the playground, and you're explaining to Baekhyun what happened to Jaehyun today, when your stomach drops. You see San walking up to Jaehyun on the other side of the swings.

“San is here, I gotta go.” You yell, hanging up the phone, dropping your ice cream and running to your son.

“Jaehyun, baby, let's go.” You say, picking him up. You glare at San as you turn to walk away and to your surprise San doesn't say anything or call after you. When you got home, Baekhyun was already standing on the driveway at home, waiting for the two of you. He quickly picks up Jaehyun, kissing his face all over, giving him all the sympathy for his head. You walk into the house listening to the giggling coming from your two favorite guys in the entire world. You had an early dinner and spent some time playing outside in the backyard until it was time to get ready for bed.

In the morning, the three of you woke up and Jaehyun would not leave your side. He wouldn't let you go to the bathroom on your own, get dressed, make breakfast. He cried at your feet when you talked to Baekhyun about work. You hated seeing him like this, so for today only, you called out of work so the two of you could have a mommy and son day. You both gave a kiss and a hug to Baekhyun, waving to him as he left for work and as the two of you were going to watch some cartoons, there's a few rapid knocks at the door. You keep Jaehyun in your arms as you answer the door.

“Good morning, my name is Jennie and I'm from Child Protective Services.” The lady says. Your eyes go wide.

“Excuse me?” You say. You're baffled, why the fuck would CPS be at your front door?

“We received a phone call from a concerned citizen yesterday about your son.” She says, motioning to Jaehyun. “We take these calls very seriously and have choice but to conduct an interview and do a home visit.”

“What did this concerned citizen say?” You ask. You already fucking knew who it was. You knew who was low enough to do this to you.

“Come on in, take a look around. I've got nothing to hide.” You say.

Jennie and two others walk into your home and begin searching around. She asks you a few questions about your home life, and then asks about Jaehyun's head.

“He fell at daycare yesterday.” You sigh. “They were playing outside, he tripped and fell, and hit his head on the edge of the slide.”

“So this wasn't you?” She asks.

You scoff. “Of course not. I would never hurt my son.”

She nods her head, writing in her book again.

“Well, I honestly don't see anything wrong here, there's no evidence of abuse or neglect here. I will have to confirm with the daycare about his head and it is standard protocol that there will be another surprise visit in the next month or so.” she explains.

“Of course. We've got nothing to hide here.” You smile.

“From the moment I walked in here I knew this was a bogus call. He sounded very angry on the phone and as you know, we have to make sure regardless.” she tells you.

“I completely understand. I appreciate your concern for my son but he is very very loved here.” You smile.

“You all have a great day and I'm very sorry about this.” She says as she and the two other men leave your house. You were going to fucking kill San.

You put Jaehyun down, and grab your phone to call Baekhyun.

“Hey babe.” He says, after the first ring.

“You'll never guess who was just fucking here.” You yell.

“San?” Baekhyun asks, you can feel his anger through the door.

“CP fucking S.”

“What the hell was CPS doing there?” He asks.

“They got a call from an anonymous citizen. Anonymous my fucking ass. I know it was him.”

“Who else could it have been?” He sighs. “What are you going to do?”

“I'm going to talk to him. Me and him, one on one. I'm going to take Jae to daycare and I'll pick him up a bit. Don't worry. I'll call you later. I love you.” You say, hanging up the phone.

“Come on buddy, let's go. Mommy has to talk to someone today.”

A little while later you're driving away from the daycare still fuming as you think about what San had done. That was one of the lowest things that man could have ever done. You drove and drove until you needed gas, and then you realized you had no idea where he lived. You didn't know where he worked, you honestly knew nothing about him right now. You pulled over into a gas station and went inside to pay for your gas and grab a drink. On your way out, you're staring at your car and it looks..funny. Slanted almost. As you get closer you realize that not one, not two but three of your tires are slashed.

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” You scream. If someone was in front of you, you would have beat the shit out of them.

“Hey! Y/N? Are you okay?” You hear from behind you. You turn around, and lucky for you, none other than San stands there, looking..worried.

“Did you fucking do this?” You spit, pointing to your car.

“What?” He asks, looking down to where you were pointing. “Your tires? No? Come on, Y/N you really think I would?’

“Yeah I really fucking do.” You snap. “Why the hell are you here?”

“I'm getting gas? It's a gas station.” He chuckles.

He wasn't wrong.

“Whatever. I need to call a tow truck.” You murmur, grabbing your phone. Before you can dial your phone begins to ring, a number you didn't recognize.

“Hello?” You answer.

“Is this L/N Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“This is doctor Kim from the hospital, we have a Mr. Byun Baekhyun here. He was in a very serious car accident and we need you to get here as soon as possible. He needs surgery but his emergency contact needs to sign.” He explains. Panic sets in. Your tires, you couldn't get there.

“A car crash? Surgery?” You cry. “I'll be right there.” You say, hanging up and trying to figure out the fastest way there. You glance at the time, 4:00pm. Your friends were all still at work, who could you call?

“Is everything okay?” San asks.

“Baekhyun was in an accident. I need to get to the hospital.” You say, tears welling in your eyes.

“I'll take you.” San offers. He puts his hands up as if to surrender. “I swear I'll drop you off at the front entrance and that's it.”

You hated that you didn't have a faster choice. You reluctantly agreed, following him to his car. You climb in, twiddling your thumbs as he pulls out of the gas station. You really hoped Baekhyun was okay.

BAEKHYUN POV

He sat in his car, thumbs tapping on the steering wheel as he sang along to his favorite songs on the radio. He glanced at the clock and groaned. 6:00pm, he hated when he was late going home, seeing you and Jaehyun was the best part of his day everyday.

His phone ringing startled him, until he realized it was you calling him.

“Hi baby.” He answers, smiling at just the thought of you.

“I can't do this anymore, Baekhyun.” You say. He frowns.

“Do what, love?” He asks.

“This. Us. I don't want to be with you anymore.”

“Y/N..” he starts.

“Don't.” You stop him. “I don't love you. I want to be with San. He's Jaehyun's dad and I want to be a family. A real family. He deserves to have his real parents raise him.”

“Y/N.” He says. “I am his dad. What are you talking about? Where is this coming from?”

“Stop it. You're not. You never will be. We're done. Don't contact me ever again.” You say, hanging up the call.

Baekhyun sits there, stuck in traffic, wondering what the fuck is going on. Just as he was about to try and call you, his phone rings.

“Y/N?” He answers.

“Hi, Mr. Byun. This is Renee from the daycare. It's been a little over an hour since we closed and Y/N still hasn't picked up Jaehyun and we can't get a hold of her..”

What the fuck was going on?

[worthcringe2]

stsg oneshot? idk what to call it but here <3

MDNI !! nsfw below!!

—

“you’ve got me in a chokehold.”

satoru’s back hit the wall, the sound soft as suguru crowded in on him, his lips crashing into his. it wasn’t cute or soft but he could feel suguru’s want for him. could feel how desperately he had been needing this, needing him.

their lips moved in sync, a soft nip to satoru’s lip had him gasping. lips falling open for suguru to push his tongue past.

satoru was letting his guard fall, his arms sliding up around his neck pulling him in closer. their bodies pressed flush against each other, no space separating them besides their clothes but those were slipping off too. first his shirt, discarded on the floor. suguru’s hands grabbed onto the back of his thighs, picking him up and carrying him over to the bed where he softly tossed him.

he stood at the end of the bed, unbuckling his belt and sliding it off. giving them each a quick breather “any positions you’d prefer?” he asked, unbuttoning his jeans and unzipping them. almost taking his time. “no preference, i just wanna fuck.” he laughed, sitting up on his elbows eyes raking over suguru’s features “you can choose.” he smiled, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them off.

suguru chuckled “right okay..” he whispered, kneeling on the bed as he grabbed his ankles and yanked him to the end of the bed, fingers hooking into the waistband of his boxers, yanking them down and letting them pool at his ankles.

he leaned down placing a few soft kisses along his chest, his lips dragging as he went down leaving a trail of light hickeys, soft marks. his hands gripped his hips pulling him further down the bed, so his feet hung off a bit before he flipped him over “knees on the bed.” he whispered, “and arch your back for me.” he continued whispering, satoru complied hiking his knees up and arching his back, his elbows digging into the mattress below.

suguru smirked, his eyes drooping as he stared down at him. “you really are pretty.” he whispered, leaning down and gently spreading his cheeks, his tongue licking up pushing his face closer.

his tongue pushing deeper, softly sucking and lightly nipping. he moaned against him “mmm..” he breathed out, pulling back so he could slide a finger in. pushing it in deeper before dragging it out and repeating. he leaned forward, kissing and nipping at the skin he could reach “you’re precious..” he whispered

“shut up, you talk to much.” satoru moaned, pushing his hips back. his eyes squeezing shut briefly his fingers clutching onto the blankets

he chuckled “impatient i see.” he let out a sigh, standing back up. “since you’re so impatient, let me get right to it.” he tugged his sweats down, his boxers following. he wrapped a hand around himself, giving a few strokes before he stepped a bit closer, slapping his tip against his hole “ready?” he teased, pushing in all at once a deep groan leaving him as he did.

satoru’s eyes widened a choked moan falling from his lips “o-oh fu-uck..” he pushed his face further into the bed. raising his hips higher

“greedy greedy.” he chuckled, shaking his head. his pace picking up, hips flush against him each time he pushed back in.

keeping a steady pace he grabs satoru’s hips moving him on and off his cock, one of his knees digging into the bed “pretty baby..” he whispered

“what is it..” he moaned, his voice muffled into the pillows, his thighs trembling. with his remaining strength he began rocking back against suguru himself, keeping his own pace. he could feel the knot in his stomach tightening up. lips falling open as he lifted his head propping himself up on his elbows now “fuck..” he breathed out heavy “i’m so close..” he moved back against him faster, his mind hazy as he finally felt the pressure release. a deep moan slipping past his lips as he slumped forward.

suguru let out a heavy moan, his grip tightening as he pulled him back up. chasing his own orgasm now, “me too, baby. me too.” he moaned, his pace picking up sharp thrusts before they became erratic, his muscles tightening as he felt his orgasm approaching his thrusts came faster, his nails digging into satoru’s hips , leaving behind crescent indents. “ah..fuck..i’m gonna—” a heavy shudder ran through him. his hips stilling as he came, his chest heaving.