#writing is not something i do that often so i'm sorry if this sucks

[itskindnessinfinite]

A little something I wrote because there’s no way I believe that Eddie doesn’t remember Buck during the shooting. Takes place during some nebulous time post 6x12. buddie. 1468 words.

It’s another evening in Eddie’s house. They’re both standing in Eddie's kitchen with a beer each. It’s been quiet for several minutes and usually Buck wouldn’t mind being together in silence with Eddie. Most times he would even welcome it. But there’s a weird atmosphere surrounding them that almost makes Buck’s skin itch.

Before he can think about it too much, Buck quickly takes the final gulp of beer as he shoots Eddie a quick glance above the rim. Eddie’s looking down on the ground, playing slowly with the bottle in his hands. There’s a small frown between his eyebrows. If Buck didn’t know him better he’d say that Eddie looks nervous.

“You okay?” Buck lowers the bottle and lets it rest against his thigh.

“Huh?” Eddie’s eyes are bigger than normal when he finally looks at Buck, surprised. A second later he huffs what could only be described as an almost laugh before he finishes his own beer and returns his gaze to a spot somewhere next to the table legs. Buck’s eyes don't leave Eddie. He feels a small feeling of… something start to unfurl in his gut. He doesn’t really know what to make of it but soon his mouth is dry and he really wishes he hadn’t finished his beer yet.

“You can talk to me,” Buck tries to encourage him but Eddie just nods, still staring down at the floor. His hands are slowly clenching and unclenching around the bottle.

Suddenly Buck is hit with the thought that Eddie still hasn’t touched him since the lightning strike. Sure, maybe a small touch of hands when Eddie handed him a beer but nothing else. No hug or reassuring hand on his shoulder. No small bump against his arm to check in on him between calls. Why did that change between them and how did Buck not realize it until now? A nasty stone starts to grow in his chest at the thought.

“Eddie,” Buck turns his body slightly more towards Eddie. He can feel a frown between his eyebrows. Eddie finally sighs as he turns his gaze to Buck. For a moment it seems like he’s about to say something but he bites his lip. Buck’s pretty sure he must have a will of steel to not let his gaze wander down from Eddie’s eyes.

“How’s the dating going?” Eddie finally asks. That’s not where he thought this conversation was going.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Buck answers. The bewilderment must be all over his face because he can see a small twitch of amusement on Eddie’s lips as he looks at Buck. But that’s the only reaction he gets. Eddie continues to look at him. He’s clearly still expecting an answer.

“It’s… not really going anywhere,” Buck relents at last, looking away for a moment. This would be a perfect moment for him to say that the one he wants is right in front of him. But he can’t. He won’t risk his friendship with Eddie like that. 

Eddie hums. There’s a thoughtful glint to his eyes this time and Buck really wishes he could understand what he’s thinking about. Buck is usually the one who can see beyond the shield that Eddie puts up but this time the shield is thicker than he’s used to and it’s almost driving him crazy.

“I lied,” Eddie admits finally and then amends, “well maybe not lied, but I didn’t tell you the whole truth.”

“About what?” Buck cocks his head to the right, trying to keep up with where the conversation is going.

“The shooting,” Eddie looks at him and Buck feels his throat close up when he thinks back to that day as he shifts slightly where he’s standing. He waits for Eddie to continue.

“I remember,” Eddie starts. His gaze seems to have landed somewhere just above Buck’s shoulder but the slight glaze to his eyes tells Buck that he’s not entirely present. 

“I remember you. I remember you being the last thing I saw before everything went dark. I remember being at peace knowing that your face would be the last thing I would see before I died,” Eddie stops there for a second and Buck’s not entirely sure what he’s listening to but before he has enough time to dwell on it Eddie continues, “but I also remember that my biggest regret was not being able to tell you how I truly feel... about you.” 

Buck can feel his eyes grow big as saucers and he almost drops the bottle in his hand because he’s pretty sure his ears must be malfunctioning. There’s no way he just heard Eddie say what he thought he did.

“What?” Buck shakes his head to try to make sense of the scrambled thoughts in his head. When he once again focuses on Eddie there’s a sad kind of acceptance in his eyes.

“Yeah, I don’t expect you to feel the same,” Eddie looks away but Buck has barely even begun to process Eddie’s previous confession. A smile starts to tug at the edges of his lips but he quickly suppresses it. Eddie might not be telling him what he has wanted to hear for... he doesn’t even know how long.

“What?” seems to be the only coherent way for Buck to express himself.

“Sorry, I just–,”

“Eddie, stop,” Buck finally gets out as he puts the bottle on the counter behind him to try to give himself some time to gather his jumbled thoughts. Eddie freezes and the resigned slump to his frame makes Buck want to wrap his arms around him and never let go.

“What do you mean?” there’s an almost frantic way to his voice as he stares at Eddie. Eddie is quiet for a few seconds, just staring at Buck, but then a small spark of hope lights up in his eyes.

“I’m in love with you,” Eddie breathes out and this time Buck doesn’t bother hiding the smile on his face, not that he could if he wanted to. He tries to say something, to reciprocate, but the only thing he’s able to do is nod. 

“You–?” Eddie barely gets the word out before he stops and then a smile is adorning his lips. A smile that makes Buck weak at the knees.

Before he knows it Eddie takes two big steps and then there’s just a few inches between their bodies. The counter digs into his hips and the beer bottle that used to be in Eddie’s hand is nowhere to be seen but Buck doesn’t care about that right now. The only thing he cares about is Eddie. The look in Eddie’s eyes. As if he’s trying to determine if Buck’s really implying what he wants Buck to imply.

“Can I…?” Eddie whispers as he slowly, reverently, raises his hands and lets them hover just an inch over Buck’s face. So close to touching but not quite there. Yet. Buck can only nod, his dry throat making it impossible to speak. The moment Eddie’s hands cups his face Buck leans into his touch and closes his eyes. He lets himself feel Eddie. Feels that despite him having just been holding a cold beer bottle, Eddie’s hands are warm and soft. There’s a small tremor that goes through Eddie’s hands and straight into Buck’s soul.

Eddie takes a small step closer, their noses now barely touching as they breathe each other’s air. A second later they’re kissing. He doesn’t know who initiated it, just that it happened and then Buck finds that his own hands are now wrapped around Eddie’s waist lazily.

The first kiss is slow, almost hesitant. Buck feels Eddie’s thumb caressing his cheek. Then Eddie pushes him even closer into the counter and a leg is all of a sudden between his thighs. Buck’s hands travel upward before they stop and carefully dig into Eddie’s shoulder blades. Buck opens his mouth and immediately feels Eddie’s tongue dart inside. He almost groans at the feeling.

He doesn’t know how long it lasts but eventually they have to lean back. Though Buck still keeps his forehead pressed against Eddie’s. Now that they’re touching each other again, Buck never wants to stop.

“I’m in love with you too,” Buck whispers and Eddie lets out a breathless laugh before he gives Buck a soft smile. A smile that reaches his eyes and lights up his entire face. Buck never wants to live in a world without that smile.

Eddie then tugs him into a hug and Buck quickly wraps his arms around Eddie’s back as he buries his face in Eddie’s neck. Buck takes a deep breath before he tightens his hold on Eddie. Eddie, who is his safe space. His home. And now he always will be.

[snow-and-saltea]

it is a bit scary but ive been in the limbo between not allowing myself to do anything until i get my shit together for too long, which means i havent been "indulging" in anything i really like but only things i've cycled through routine to the point of tastelessness. i am somehow so adamantly resistant against escapism through hobbies or from making myself feel better but also very cowardly in the sense that i'm too afraid of looking at my problems in the eye because my bad mental health bars me from being honest and hopeful (to inspire myself to fix it) to myself because every time i try, i can only hear the "brutal" part of the "brutally honest", and i don't even know if i'm being honest because it's as though i go into this dialogue against myself with an intent to kick myself down. which, i do understand why it happens, but i currently have no energy to "fight" back against it so i just go "yeah. you're right. i AM trash and worthless. i already know this, can we stop bringing this up please?" perhaps from an outsider pov or through a friend's pov i am seen differently, but imagining myself being seen in a positive manner somehow feels delusional because i "know" i'm not being very umm. valuable. i guess skhdjshfjdjf there's definitely stuff going on there

[svtiddiess]

Hey, You Come Here Often?

Synopsis: Roses are red, violets are blue, I'm hard, let me fuck you? A terrible poem that has you jerking off your boyfriend at a photoshoot.

Pairing: Jeonghan x 14th member!afab!reader

Genre: smut, one shot, established relationship

Rating: mature

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: handjob, sub!Jeonghan, brat!Jeonghan, soft dom!reader, semi-public sex(?), orgasm denial, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: I'm still on hiatus but this thot has been plaguing my mind so I just had to write it down.

Thank you always to my twin @tomodachiii for beta reading!

@soo0hee surprise wifey.

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Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

"Hey, you come here often?"

You spin around to face your grinning boyfriend, both of you enjoying a break during a magazine photoshoot. The theme of the shoot is "loose and sexy", and Jeonghan embodies it flawlessly: a loose white blouse that subtly reveals his chest, paired with slacks that frame his legs perfectly. Even his long hair has been styled in a way that oozes effortless allure.

Rolling your eyes, a smile tugs at your lips—you're all too familiar with your boyfriend's cheeky antics by now. He always finds a way to tease you during breaks whenever the two of you are paired up for a photoshoot.

"Not often, but maybe that can change," you hum, crossing your arms with a casual air of indifference.

"Cool, wanna fuck?" Jeonghan drawls, slipping his hands into his pockets. Your eyes widen, and you choke on your own spit.

"Jeonghan!" you sputter, glaring at him.

"What?" he shrugs innocently, as though he hasn't just caused your mini-crisis.

"You're supposed to say something romantic!" you exclaim, exasperated and thoroughly done with his nonsense.

He sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes like you're the unreasonable one here.

"Okay fine," he grumbles. "Roses are red, violets are blue, I'm hard, let me fuck you?"

You blink, take a moment to process his awful poem, then shake your head and walk away.

"I'm leaving," you mutter, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

"No~" he whines as he grabs you from behind and wraps his arms around you. You gasp when you feel his hard-on press against your ass.

"I wasn't lying about being hard," he whispers in your ear.

"Go take care of it yourself," you murmur, biting back a moan when you feel him slightly grind against you.

"Love~" he whines, pressing harder against you.

"We're in the middle of a photoshoot, I'm not ruining my makeup," you hiss.

"At least jerk me off," he pouts, his hands slowly sneaking up your torso.

"You have two hands perfectly capable of doing that," you deadpan.

"But yours feel so much better wrapped around me," he sulks, squeezing one of your boobs, you bite your lip to prevent any sounds from slipping out.

"Please? I'll make sure to moan prettily for you," he purrs. He grabs your hand and places it on his dick, letting out a soft whimper. You squeeze your legs, trying to relieve the aching need that has settled in your core. You gulp and suck in a breath.

"Where can we even do it?" You whisper.

"We can do it right here if you want," he smirks. You squeeze him as a warning, and he groans, bucking his hip into you.

"T-The bathroom is nearby," he chokes out.

Humming softly, you quickly lead him into the bathroom, making sure to lock the door behind you. As soon as you do, he wraps his arms around you and leans in for a kiss, but you pull back.

"Ah, ah, ah! I told you, I’m not ruining my makeup," you say, holding up a finger in protest.

He lets out a dramatic whine, pouting and throwing a small tantrum like a child.

You scowl and cup his bulge, giving it a hard squeeze, eliciting a choked moan from him.

"Do you want me to take care of your little problem or not? I can gladly walk out and just leave you here in pain," you hiss.

"N-No, please, I'm sorry," he whimpers.

You slowly and tauntingly unbutton his pants, sensing his restlessness, you smirk.

"If we're doing this, it’s going to be on my terms. Act like a brat, and I’m out," you warn, your tone firm. He swallows hard and nods, gazing down at you with wide, doe-like eyes.

You fish his cock out of his boxers and smirk when you see how angry and red it looks, the tip already oozing out precum. He sighs in relief and shivers when the cold air hits his cock.

"Love, please," he whimpers.

You grin as you wrap your hand around the tip, thumb pressing into his slit. His breath hitches, and he bites his bottom lip.

"I thought you said you were going to moan so prettily for me, Hannie. Well then, go on—let me hear it," you command with a teasing edge as your hand slowly starts to move along his shaft.

You hear his breath hitch as he throws his head back, a shaky moan escaping his plump lips.

"That's right pretty boy, let me hear how good I'm making you feel," you purr, speeding up your pace.

Moaning out your name, he starts thrusting into your hand. His eyebrows knit together, and his voice takes on a whinier tone—you can tell he’s close.

You stop your movements and his eyes shoot open, mouth agape in disbelief.

"No, no! I was close!" He yells out, hips pathetically thrusting, trying to reach his high.

"Beg, pretty; beg me to let you cum," you coo, thumb circling his tip, earning a choked sob from him.

"Please let me cum, please," he begs, lips trembling.

Grinning in satisfaction, you run your nails alongside the vein under his dick; his eyes roll back as he lets out a long moan. He whimpers as you resume your pace of jerking your hand up and down his length. Chest heaving, his eyebrows furrow as he chants your name like a prayer. Incoherent babbles escape his lips as you use your other hand to cup his balls.

You lean in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, "Cum for me, pretty boy." At your words, his mouth goes agape, and he cums into your hands; his seeds staining your hand and the floor below.

He rests his head on your shoulder, soft whines hitting your ear as he slowly comes down from his high. You rub his back as his body shudders in your hold.

"Feel better, pretty?" you murmur, and he hums in response, tilting his head up to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

"Thank you, love," he mumbles against your mouth, his voice soft and grateful.

"You should probably get your makeup retouched," you point out, gesturing to the faint sheen of sweat on his face. He grumbles and buries his head on your shoulder again.

"Help me clean up," he pouts, his lips brushing against your shoulder.

"Such a baby," you sigh, rolling your eyes.

"Your baby," he grins up at you, mischief twinkling in his eyes.

"Unfortunately," you tease, letting out a chuckle before placing a soft kiss on the tip of his nose.

You help him clean up, and the two of you head to the dressing room for makeup touch-ups. The makeup artist looks at Jeonghan in confusion, clearly wondering how he managed to work up such a sweat in so little time. You exchange knowing glances, barely holding back your laughter.

Getting paired with Jeonghan for photoshoots is rare, but whenever it happens, it's guaranteed the two of you will find yourselves in some sort of mischief.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour

@iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina

@theidontknowmehn @toplinehyunjin @gyuhao365 @mysticfairies

[m00nlight-ramblings]

Talk

As a famous singer, you find yourself at the same terrible party as Hozier, but you two decide to do something about it.

Pairing: fem reader x Hozier

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, p in v (protected) sex, fingering, 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who waited for this one...I'm so sorry it took so long. Please enjoy, and remember, my inbox is open for requests!

This party sucked.

Somehow, at one of the biggest album release parties of the year, you found yourself bored out of your mind, sipping on a weak gin and tonic. Leaning against a corner wall, the bass of the music from the DJ vibrated through you as you watched other people dance – your bandmates were somewhere amongst them, but for whatever reason, you just weren’t feeling it. Maybe you were just in a mood, maybe it was the music (one good song for every ten awful ones), but you sipped your drink, checking your phone every so often until it became a polite time to excuse yourself. You could already taste the revelry of getting back to your house before midnight – pajamas, Thai takeout, and scrolling aimlessly on your phone while Grey’s Anatomy reruns played in the background.

Suddenly, you saw a head bobbing around the others in the crowd – standing what seemed like almost a full foot above everyone else, his thick, curly hair pulled back in a half bun, he smiled and tilted his head to the music distractedly. Your breath hitched for a moment as you saw him – you had seen Hozier at countless red carpets and events in the past year it seemed, but he was also more handsome than the last time. He turned his head and your eyes locked, making you blush, and making him smile. He gently pressed a hand on someone’s back to alert that he was making his way behind him.

As if the giant could ever go unnoticed.

“Hi,” He said as he landed next to you, sipping from his drink. Something brown and in a rocks glass, one giant ice cube anchoring the liquid.

Of course.

“I feel like I needed to come over and speak to you – we seem to orbit each other at basically every red carpet this year.” He spoke, seemingly reading my mind. You smiled.

“That’s funny – I was just thinking that.”

Hozier nodded and his eyes scanned the crowd before landing back at you. It was like he was staring into your soul. Extending a hand, he smiled, “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m –”

“I know who you are,” You admitted, somewhat bashfully as you shook his hand. “I’m a big fan. I’m–”

“I know who you are,” He echoed, a smirk playing on his lips mischievously, “I’m a big fan.”

You could feel your blush deepen as his smooth words washed over you. His accent was enough for you to want to drop your panties, and his smile was already sending your head upside down.

“Your ‘Best New Artist’ win was well deserved,” He continued. “Your album was one of my favorites this year. Selfishly, I hope you guys are working on another one.”

“Wow, thank you,” You breathed, your heart thumping in your chest, “That means a lot coming from one of like, the best lyricists of our generation.”

“Ah,” Hozier waved his hand, bashful, “Come now.”

You cocked an eyebrow and smiled, “You’re going to write something like ‘I'd be the voice that urged Orpheus when her body was found, I'd be the choiceless hope in grief, that drove him underground’ and not expect to be considered that?”

He simply shrugged and sipped his drink. He was blushing, embarrassed.

“This album was also very good,” He changed the subject, speaking of the current album release party. He cleared his throat, “Even though this party sucks.”

You laughed and gently grabbed his forearm in agreement, “Yes! What is that about?!”

“I think it’s the DJ,” He admitted, leaning into you, “The guys releasing this album are buddies of mine, but I’m starting to think if I need to end our friendship based on the DJ they picked for this party.”

“The music he’s playing is making me feel old,” You admitted, “I don’t know any of the songs, and I don’t seem to really like it, either. Is this what our parents feel like when we were listening to Good Charlotte and Britney Spears?”

“Not mine. My mom loves Good Charlotte.” His eyes twinkled.

You laughed. Your eyes fell on your bandmates dancing to the music, obviously drunk off of the expensive beer being served at the open bar. You were acutely aware of Hozier standing next to you, his heat seemingly radiating.

“Is it an inappropriate time to tell you that I think you look beautiful tonight?” He asked, his breath warm on your ear as he leaned down to whisper it. Shivers were sent down your back as he spoke. You turned your head and looked at him, trying to play it cool with the smile that played on your lips.

“Probably not, considering how I’ve been thinking about how handsome you look since I saw you from across the room tonight.” You retorted, titling your head. He smiled and nodded, his eyes scanning the crowd.

“I’m reminded of your beauty every time I see you at events,” Hozier said, his hand finding the small of your back, “And, admittedly, every time I scroll your Instagram feed.”

You laughed, “Hozier is my internet stalker, eh?”

“Can you blame me? That number you had on at the Grammy’s this year?” He made a face, whistling, “It took every ounce of strength not to follow your account as soon as you were done presenting on stage.”

“Do you want to get out of here?” You asked, almost interrupting him. He seemed taken aback, so you tried to backtrack, “I mean…in a bit. We could go somewhere where…the DJ doesn’t suck? After we finish our drinks.”

Hozier quickly chucked back the rest of his drink, putting the glass on the nearest table. “Let’s go.” He took your hand as you chugged the rest of yours as well, finding the spot next to his glass for yours.

He guided you through the party, his hand never leaving the small of your back. You felt heat rushing through you as you made your way to front door, and Hozier handed the valet his ticket. He turned to you.

“Did you drive here?”

You shook your head. “Car service.”

“Great. We can take my car then.”

As the valet pulled up in a sleek Audi, Hozier thanked him and handed him a large bill as a tip. He waited until you were situated in your seat before he slid into the driver’s side, closing his door and pulling into traffic. Some sort of blues-y jazz was coming through the speakers softly.

“So where are you kidnapping me to, Mr. Internet Stalker?” You teased, looking out the window at the lights of downtown L.A.

He smiled, “My hotel,” His voice was a low purr. You exchanged a glance as he leaned his head forward, in explanation, “The bar there is really nice. Live jazz band tonight. It’s mellow.”

You nodded and smiled. As your heart raced, you were trying to calm yourself down, fiddling with the clasp on the purse in your lap. Hozier’s arm was resting on the console in between you, and every so often, his hand inched closer to you. By the time he pulled into the swanky hotel parking lot, his large hand was resting gently on your thigh.

Your stomach was in excited knots.

After another valet exchange, Hozier took your hand and led you inside the hotel. It was grand and beautiful – a $500/night type place. To the right of the entrance was a beautiful restaurant, speakeasy in style. As promised, a four-piece band was set up in the corner of the bar, playing soft tunes and creating the atmosphere of an underground jazz club.

“Told you,” Hozier said, raising his eyebrows playfully, “And the drinks are great as well. Had one before the release party.”

“It’s really nice.” You awkwardly agreed. Hozier stopped for a moment, his face unreadable. He stood before you.

“I also have a minibar upstairs in my room, if you want something to drink.”

“Oh, that sounds much better.” The coil in your belly was itching to be sated, and you didn’t know how much you could play this cat-and-mouse game of will they/won’t they. For a moment, a darkness of lust flickered in his eyes, but he simply smiled and took your hand, leading you to the elevator. He scanned his room card and pressed the button to the top floor.

The air in the elevator was thick, heavy. You both stood facing the door, saying nothing. As the doors open and he led you to his suite, your heartbeat doubled in time. Flicking the lights on, he shut the door behind you, placing the lock in it’s place.

It took all of 30 seconds before your bodies crashed together, teeth clacking and moans erupting.

Hozier grabbed you and pushed your floor length dress up so they he was able to wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bed. Your arms snaked around his neck, fingers finding their way into his hair. You pulled back slightly, your breath ragged already.

“So what the fuck do I call you?” You asked, breathlessly.

Confused, he looked at you, “What?”

“I need to know what I’m saying when I scream your name later…is it Hozier, or is it Andrew?”

He barked out a laugh and bit your lip, “Andrew. Andrew is fine.” He pressed his lips on yours again, dropping on top of you as he guided you to the bed. His large hands ran their way up and down your waist, palming at the skin on your body. He was moaning, grunting into the kiss, as your tongues danced together. You felt his hands leave your waist and slip your heels off, your toes already curling.

Andrew pulled away and slipped off the tweed suit jacket he was wearing. He looked down at you as he shook his head, a smile playing on his lips.

“So fucking beautiful,” He murmured, pressing hot kisses down your neck. “So fucking sexy. Every time I see you.”

You moaned and pressed your hips to him slightly, causing him to gasp lightly in surprise. He kissed down your neck, to your collarbone, gently slipping the thin straps of your dress off of your shoulders. Licking a stripe from your neck to just above your breasts, he smiled, looking at you.

“Fuck,” You breathed, looking down at him. You watched as he stood, slipping off his shoes and socks next to the bed. He unbuttoned his dress shirt and slipped that off, revealing his thin, hairy chest. He was lean, built lithly but strong. Biting your lip, you stifled a moan. He was on you once again, pulling you into a kiss, his hand cradling the back of your neck. His other hand made quick work of the zipper on the back of your dress, and he shimmed it down, before sliding it off of you completely.

Revealing the intricate…shapewear…you wore underneath.

For a moment, both of you stopped breathing, looking down at the ugly, functional corset that covered your body. Embarrassed, you pressed your lips together before looking back at Andrew. Suddenly, both of you were in hysterics.

“I really wish I was wearing some sexy lingerie right about now.” You said, throwing your head back and cackling. Andrew laughed and peppered kisses on your cheeks, shaking his head as he undid the shapewear and took that off as well.

“That was brilliant,” He said, wiping a tear away from laughing, “What a fuckin’ reveal.” As he took it off, you were completely nude, your skin softly pressed against his fingers. He groaned as he took you in, “That’s much better.” His voice was back to husky, low.

He kissed you once more before his fingers found their way to your clit, spreading your legs gently. He didn’t take his eyes off of you as his fingers felt your wetness. Quickly, he inserted two fingers, pushing his long digits all the way in. You moaned and furrowed your brow as he didn’t move for a moment, letting you adjust.

“You’re so wet for me already, darlin’.” He purred, his forehead on yours. You whimpered and nodded. He started to pump inside of you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. Immediately you started to squirm, which made me smile.

“Jesus Christ, Andrew.” You said, your eyes flickering to his fingers moving in and out of you. Heat rose in you as you watched him, the pleasure evident on his face as he licked his lips. When your eyes found his again, you found him looking at you, and not his handiwork.

“I love seeing you like this,” He said plainly, “You’re so beautiful when you squirm.”

He increased his speed, causing you to buck your hips. He nodded, his eyes twinkling, as he continued to pleasure you with his fingers. He leaned down to kiss you – a hot, open-mouthed kiss, with his tongue finding yours immediately. You moaned into it as he curved his fingers inside of you and took your bottom lip in his mouth, sucking gently. Pulling away, he dipped his head and moved his tongue to your hardened nipple, sucking on the bud as your body started to convulse under him.

The coil in your belly was tightening, and fast. Your hips started to buck faster, your wetness pooling out on to his fingers. You started to repeat his name like a prayer, and as you moved closer to the edge, your hand found its way into his hair again, tugging lightly.

“I’m close.” You whimpered.

“I know,” He smiled, moving his mouth to your ear, “Come for me. Be a good girl.”

You gasped slightly at his words as the coil snapped, bucking your hips one last time before your orgasm sent waves of pleasure through you. You moaned loudly, gripping the back of his head tightly as he bit down on your earlobe, never stopping his fingers inside of you.

“That’s it,” He groaned, his voice raspy, “That’s it, pretty girl. Give it all to me. Show me how pretty you are when you come for me.”

Your head swam and your heart raced, your eyes squeezed shut because you could focus. The pleasure that was spreading through you was warm, electric – it was one of the best orgasms you had ever had, and it was only with his fingers.

Jesus Fuckin’ Christ.

After a few moments, Andrew slipped his fingers out, causing you to open your eyes, your breath coming in heaving pants. He was smiling, obviously proud. Slowly, he licked his digits as he stood, moaning.

“Jesus, you taste delicious.” He said, looking at you. He undid the button and zipper on his pants, the obvious tent of his arousal very evident before he slipped them off. Down came his pants and boxer briefs, his large member springing free, wet with precum. He made his way over to a duffle bag thrown on a chair in the corner of the room and rifled through it, finally emerging with a condom in between his fingers. Opening it quickly, he slid it on himself, pumping himself a few times as he walked back to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Are you ready?” He asked, straddling himself in front of you, continue to stroke himself.

“Actually, if you’re not inside of me within the next few seconds I might lose my fucking mind.” You said, watching him. It was silly, but seeing him touch himself in front of you like that made him seem like a god. He smiled and crawled on top of you, slowly positioning himself at your entrance. As his tip teased your wet folds, you whimpered.

Finally, Andrew slid himself inside of you in a single thrust, his forehead finding yours again. Your moans filled the room, and as he started to pump inside of you, the familiar numb feeling of being filled spread throughout you.

“So good,” You said, closing your eyes and pressing your head to the pillow, “So, so good, Andrew.”

“That’s it,” He said, his breath hitching, “Wanna make you feel good. You make my cock feel so good.” He dipped his head in the crook of your neck as he started to slowly increase his pace, finding himself deeper inside of you. The sound of your wet skin slapping together filled the room, matched only by your breathy groans and his primal grunts.

“Fuck!” You shrieked, Andrew finding a particular spot that made your vision fuzzy. Andrew tilted his head up to look at you and he smiled.

“Yeah? Right there, darlin’?” He asked. You nodded, your brows knitted together. His hand found your chin, holding it roughly, “You like it when I fuck you right there?” You nodded again but he shook his head, “Lemme hear you say it, baby.” He gently commanded.

“Fuck. Yes, Andrew, right there!” You said, unable to take your eyes off of him. His eyes darkened as he continued to fuck you, his face flushing.

“My name sounds so good on your lips.” He groaned, continuing to pump in you. Sweat was beading on his forehead as he continued to hit your spot. His hand moved from your chin to your tits, and as he pinched your hardened nipples, you moaned. His thrusts became erratic, irregular.

“You’re close already, aren’t you?” You toyed with him, taking a moment to bite down on his bottom lip, “My pussy so good you’re gonna come for me?”

“Fuck,” He barked, furrowing his brows, “You’re so fucking tight…you’re so wet…I’m gonna come soon. I’m close,” His face flushed deeper as he stared into your eyes, making your heart thunder in your chest. Suddenly, he squeezed his eyes shut, his head thrown back, voice parted in a silent moan.

You felt his cock twitch inside of you, the condom filling with his orgasm. He jerked his hips, almost a spasm, as he moaned your name. His hands gripped the pillows on either side of you, his biceps flexing. You smiled as he finally opened his eyes, almost in submission as he rode out his orgasm. Your hands found their way to his back, gripping him and bringing him closer.

A few moments went by as he stayed inside of you, trying to catch up with his breathing. He placed gentle kisses on your cheek lazily, finally rolling out of you. Standing, he quickly made his way to the bathroom to toss the condom and clean himself up, but laid next to you again, scooping you up in his arms.

“You’re fucking incredible.” He murmured in your ear, his Irish accent coming out with his tired demeanor. You giggled and looked at him, brushing a sweaty lock of hair behind his ear.

“I’m really glad that party sucked so bad,” You said. He chuckled, his eyes still closed. Opening one, he looked down at you.

“Me too…” He paused for a moment, drawing you closer, “Though, even if that party was fun, I still would’ve made my way over to you.”

“Yeah?”

Andrew nodded and shifted so he was propping himself up on his elbow, “Yeah. I had been trying to muster up the courage for like…three awards shows to come over and say hi to you, now. Months worth of time.” He was somewhat bashful. You blushed.

“Well I’m glad you did.”

“Me too.” He reached out and started to brush his fingers through your hair, and you couldn’t help the fluttering in your chest.

That party sucked. But you were glad it did.

---

A/N: I'm actually kind of obsessed with their banter and relationship...should I make this multiple parts?! I was originally only planning on doing this as a oneshot but I kind love them (teehee).

As always, comments and reblogs mean a lot if you liked this one <3 Thanks for reading

[schoenpepper]

It's Okay to Play Favorites (Vice Housewardens)

Intro: You accidentally get sucked into the world of Twisted Wonderland, your favorite game, like, ever. And uh, you may or may not have teleported with a plushie of your favorite character…

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread, self aware au but not god, your card collection is just you being freaky and taking pictures of them, google translated French be warned, ortho’s is platonic and if u take it any other way i ban u, lilia’s is also platonic but if u see romance crumbs i won't stop u, ik ruggie and ortho aren't vice housewardens but get this idgaf

A/N: Bro college got me fucked (second day in i know i'm a fucking whiner i hate it all). Not a request, just some random stuff I wrote during my 3 hour round-trip commute jfc. If my Jade favoritism is acting up, no it ain't.

Masterlist

Trey Clover is a man often overlooked, whether in the fandom or the world of Twisted Wonderland.

So when you get transported in during orientation, you, the player, were holding a plush form of him?

He blanks out.

Sorry Riddle, your vice housewarden kinda crashed maybe you can reboot him or something.

Trey’s never thought of himself as anything special, but he must be if he’s your favorite character, right?

You befriend him with a giddy smile, he can almost see the hearts in your eyes as you fan[redacted] so hard you actually hug him in your excitement.

The player? Hugged? Him?????

“Crazy bro that’s like super nuts so jealous of you.” - Cater Diamond

Hm, he gets a bit bashful when you take so many pictures of him.

Do you really like him that much?

He…likes you too.

“Cringe.” - Cater Diamond

I’m just a normal person, you know? At least, the closest someone can get to normal in this place. You still want me? Are you sure?

…Okay.

If you’re sure.

Unfortunately, to date a dad is to put up with dad jokes.

Do you mind though?

Makes you the most delicious pastries and confectionery known to mankind. You’ll probably get 5 lbs fatter and a sugar addiction.

But your teeth will be beautiful because he teaches you how to brush your teeth properly.

(Ten kinds of toothbrushes…)

Picnic dates.

Tea party dates.

Baking dates.

You might need to go on a diet to stay in shape because Trey doesn’t mind fat. He will probably love you more if you’re chubby.

But he loves you regardless.

Rest of the cast is like, vaguely jealous because why Trey?

But also he has a generally good rapport with other people so it’s cool.

Maybe.

Ruggie Bucchi wasn’t really paying too much attention at the ceremony but you definitely drew his focus.

Is that a plushie hyena beastman?

Does not register that it’s him until someone calls it out.

What? Why? How? When? Where?

He probably has major self esteem issues because, you know, the school’s filled to the brim with rich kids and people with status.

He has neither money nor power. So when he finds out he’s your favorite character? Boom.

He lets out his cute (im not biased) laugh but it’s because he doesn’t know how else to react.

You want to be his friend? Why not?

(Laughs again because he’s exploding on the inside)

You hug him???? Crazy. You owe him a donut for that, bro.

Thinks the picture thing is a bit weird but who is he to argue with the player?

You’re weird, y’know? There’s like princes and moguls and stuff in NRC, why me?

You like me? You find me charming?

That’s not something I’d really use for myself but hey…knock yourself out. Shishishi.

Floof.

You get to scratch his ears and kiss ‘em and watch ‘em twitch while he tries to get away from you.

Insane bro wish I was you.

Cuddly and surprisingly clingy, loves loves loves being pampered.

Are you indoctrinated by my subby Ruggie vibes yet???

His love language is sharing food.

(Have you ever tried passing candy through a kiss? No? Wanna try?)

His grandma will love you <3

The other characters will be giving him major stink eye. The scrappy hyena? Really?

Yes really.

“Whatever, good for you.” - Leona probably.

Jade Leech is amused.

Rather childish, is it not? Well, he’s flattered that you think so highly of him and even have this stuffed toy in his image.

Unfortunately, he does hold enough respect for you as the player to not immediately use your infatuation with him for nefarious purposes.

Not to say he doesn’t tease you though.

You are the flustered one here.

He’s your favorite? Oya, how interesting. He’s never seen himself the way that you do, but who is he to argue with the player?

Please, what do you like so much about him? Do tell.

(His systems crash when you hug him but you’ll never know)

You seem to enjoy taking his pictures. If you let him [redacted] you can take as many as you want.

If you don’t take him up on his offer I will!!!

My, I never expected to be your ‘favorite character’, was it? Well, I don’t mind.

What do I think of you?

Fufu, wouldn’t you like to know?

Loving a sadist means you’re probably a masochist.

You like it when he ‘unintentionally’ makes you do something stupid? Toys with you? Teases you with his annoyingly adorable super cutie pie grin?

Bro you have weird taste I could like, never~

If you didn’t like mushrooms before you do now.

You wish he’d look at you the way he looks at his terrariums.

You know that silly, happy, dopey little look he gets? The lab coat groovy one? Yeah.

Hiking dates if you’re physically able to. If not, he makes like the fanciest dinner dates ever.

He does love you, promise.

The other characters are highkey judging you.

Jamil Viper is inside his hoodie and is very unlikely to ever come out.

You’re kinda embarrassing but what is he supposed to do?

You’re the player. You have a plushie Jamil. Tiny and cute.

Jamil doesn’t see himself as cute. Wouldn’t it be better if you had a different one? Someone sunnier, someone warmer, someone like…Kalim?

Jamil’s your favorite character?

Yeah he’s not leaving his hoodie.

When you’re so happy and excited that you hug him, his soul leaves his body through his lips.

Rip Jamil Viper.

I don’t think Jamil’s very used to the camera, considering he’s technically Kalim’s servant and servants stay in the background.

But since you adore him the way that you do, well, he won’t stop you.

You’re strange. Is this a prank?

No, I don’t mean to doubt you. It’s just that…

No, nevermind. Since you want me, I’ll—love? You love me? Fine, I can work with that too.

His favorite kind of date is one where you two sleep and cuddle together.

He needs a break.

It’s not too often that he can carve time out of babysitting, so any time spent with him you’ll cherish like gold.

You can help him with chores if you manage to persist through multiple rejections.

He’d really prefer not to make the player do chores with him, but when you smile so wide like that, he can’t refuse anymore on the grounds of you not enjoying it.

Kalim can lend you guys the carpet though, you wanna fly?

While the cast doesn’t generally approve of the snake, you’re very loud about your infatuation.

They can’t stop you.

Rook Hunt is a lover of beauty, and you, the player, are the most beauté of all! (full points :D)

Qu'est-ce que c'est? A soft and fluffy copy of himself? How wonderous! Marvelous! The adorable cotton-filled blah blah blah (insert soliloquy here)

While there’s a tiny thought in his mind that perhaps the poison apple or the queen would be more befitting of a nui plush, he still takes your fascination with him in stride.

(It’s not often that he’s in this role.)

To be your favorite, it is an honor!

He shall dedicate a poem to your inner and outer beauty!

Accidentally tosses you to the ground when you try to hug him.

Desolé, instinct. Try again?

He’s not used to being the one in the spotlight, but please, take as many pictures as you need!

Love? Love is the most beautiful indeed. Comme toi, tellement adorable. Lovely.

You’re asking if I have someone I love?

Je suis un lâche de ne pas exprimer mon amour pour toi. 

Either you get what he’s saying or you remember it so you can translate later.

Anyway, have you ever wanted to hunt for sport as a date?

No?

How about getting hunted for sport?

Still no? Shame.

Rook settles for little camping trips in the woods, just you and him and the forest (and his bow and quiver of arrows and his hunting knife and his dagger and—).

He makes very good roasted meat.

You’ll enjoy it as long as you remember not to ask where it’s from.

Uh, ignore how every other cast member is judging you. Love is love, right?

Ortho Shroud is very happy! Very excited! Yay!

You’re a legendary figure, and you’re treating him so nicely! 

Is that a toy made to look like him? You like Ortho? He’s your favorite character?

Yay!

Robo baby is very happy.

Since you like Ortho, do you like Idia too?

Can you be Idia’s friend?

Can you be a new older sibling? Please?

(Say yes or I will [redacted])

Hugs? Hugs!

Forehead kisses?

Yes!

You seem to enjoy taking many pictures of Ortho. Why is this? You like him that much?

If so, maybe you two should take pictures together instead of always taking pictures of him alone. He’d love to take lots of pictures with you!

Can Idia come?

I am your favorite character? Like in a video game? This world is also a video game?

That’s great!

What kind of character am I?

Lilia Vanrouge thinks you’re funny. But also totally correct.

He must be sinful because even you, dear player, find him absolutely adorable!

Hehehe…

Is that a tiny Lilia? Good taste! It’s almost as adorable as the real one.

When you hug him in your excitement, he just laughs and pats your back.

Grandpa vibes.

A picture? Why not?

A selfie, as you kids say. (bro you’re not even detached from modern technology???)

Really likes taking pictures with you.

Since you like him a lot and he’s your favorite character, be a dear and forgo your sleep schedule to game with him.

I’m your favorite, right? Surely that means you’d love to taste my cooking?

No? Why, I’m saddened by your rejection…

There we go. It’s not so bad, is it? I made it with effort, onions, garlic…are you alright? Oh dear.

[its-avalon-08]

do u write for logan? im sorry if not but if yes can u please write a fic where he’s training and focused on not losing his seat so much that he’s neglecting y/n a little and she tries to understand but ends up felling sad and hurt anyways so he notices she’s distance and tries to fix things?

she's fading (ls2)

✦ pairing - logan sargeant x female!reader

✦ genre - neglecting, logan is stupid, comfort, tears, angst

Logan Sargeant was entrenched in his training, pushing himself to the limit every single day. The pressure to keep his seat was mounting, and his dedication was unwavering. Unfortunately, this dedication often came at the expense of his relationship with Y/N.

One evening, Y/N sat alone at the dining table, a small, decorated cake in front of her. The candle's flickering flame cast shadows across the room. She glanced at the clock, its hands marking another hour that Logan was late. Today was their anniversary, but it seemed Logan had forgotten.

Y/N picked up her phone and typed a message with a heavy heart.

Y/N: Hey, are you coming home soon?

She hit send and waited. Minutes turned into an hour with no response. Her disappointment deepened, but she knew this was becoming the norm.

Logan finally walked in, drenched in sweat and looking exhausted. He barely glanced at the table before heading to the kitchen.

"Hey, can you get me a coffee? I'm wiped out," he called out, oblivious to the cake and Y/N's somber expression.

"Logan…" Y/N began, her voice trembling.

"Just a coffee, Y/N," Logan repeated, not looking at her.

Y/N bit her lip, fighting back tears, and went to the kitchen. She prepared the coffee with shaking hands, feeling a fever starting to burn within her. As she handed him the mug, Logan finally noticed her pale face.

"Thanks," he said, taking the coffee without a second glance.

"Logan, can we talk?" she asked weakly.

"Can it wait, Y/N? I'm really tired," Logan replied, already heading towards the shower.

Y/N watched him go, feeling a mix of anger and sadness. She knew he was under immense pressure, but his constant neglect was taking a toll on her.

A few days later, Y/N lay in bed, shivering under a thick blanket. Her fever had spiked, and she felt too weak to move. She had called in sick from work, something she rarely did, and had hoped Logan would notice her absence.

Logan, however, was too absorbed in his training schedule. He came home briefly during lunch, rummaging through the kitchen for something quick to eat.

"Hey, Y/N, where's the protein shake powder?" he called out.

"It's… in the pantry," Y/N replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Logan found the powder and quickly made his shake. As he was about to leave, he noticed Y/N's flushed face.

"You look terrible," he said bluntly. "Are you sick?"

"Yeah, I have a fever," she admitted, her eyes pleading for some acknowledgment.

"Oh, that sucks," Logan said, checking his watch. "I’ve got to head back to the track. Take some medicine, okay?"

Y/N stared at him in disbelief as he rushed out the door. She felt a tear slip down her cheek as the door closed behind him. She had never felt so alone.

Days later, Y/N's fever has reduced. She managed to get out of bed to attend an award ceremony for her work, where she was being recognized for a significant achievement. She had hoped Logan would come, but as the evening progressed, it became clear he wouldn't.

Standing on the stage, holding her award, Y/N scanned the audience for any sign of Logan. He was nowhere to be found. Her heart sank, and she forced a smile for the cameras, feeling the weight of his absence acutely.

That night, Logan came home late again, his mind still on his training sessions. Y/N sat on the couch, the award placed prominently on the table.

"Hey," she said softly as he walked in.

"Hey," Logan replied, barely glancing at her. "How was your day?"

Y/N gestured to the award. "I won this today."

Logan finally looked at it, his expression showing brief recognition. "Oh, wow. That's great, Y/N. Sorry I couldn't make it. Busy day."

Y/N's eyes filled with tears. "Logan, I needed you there. I need you now."

Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know, Y/N. I'm sorry. I just… I have so much on my plate right now."

Y/N scoffed and walked away.

time skip

One weekend, Oscar and Lily stopped by for a visit. They all sat in the living room, catching up on life. Lily turned to Y/N with a bright smile.

"Congratulations on your award, Y/N! That’s amazing! I am so so so proud of you! I knew you could do it!" she exclaimed.

Y/N smiled, grateful for the acknowledgment. "Thank you, Lily."

Logan, sitting beside her, nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah, congrats."

Oscar shot Logan a look. "Mate, don’t you think you should be a bit more excited for Y/N?"

Logan glanced up, confused. "Huh? Oh, yeah, of course. Great job, Y/N."

Y/N’s smile faltered, the hollowness of his words cutting deeper than any outright neglect. She excused herself, retreating to the kitchen where she leaned against the counter, trying to hold back her tears.

Lily followed her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

Y/N shook her head, the tears finally spilling over. "I just… I don’t know how much more of this I can take, Lily."

Lily hugged her, offering silent support. "You deserve better, Y/N. Don’t let him make you feel like you’re not important."

Y/N nodded, wiping her eyes. She knew Lily was right, but her heart ached with the weight of loving someone who seemed to be slipping away. Her silent sobs shook her gentle frame and Lily hugged her.

Back in the living room, Oscar nudged Logan. "You really need to step up, Logan. You’re going to lose her if you keep this up. Look at her Lo. Her spark, it's gone."

Logan frowned, glancing towards the kitchen where he could hear Y/N’s muffled sobs. A wave of guilt washed over him, but the realization of what he needed to do came too late. The damage was done, and he could only hope it wasn’t irreversible.

After Oscar and Lily left, Logan sat on the couch, his mind racing. He couldn't shake off Oscar's words or the image of Y/N's tear-streaked face. He decided to observe her behavior, needing to understand just how much his neglect had affected her.

Y/N moved around the apartment with a practiced grace, tidying up after their guests. She brought Logan a plate of dinner without a word, a habit formed from countless evenings eating alone. Logan watched her, noticing the way she quietly went about her routine, her eyes distant and sad.

"Thanks," he said, his voice breaking the silence.

"You're welcome," Y/N replied softly, sitting down at the other end of the table, her plate already half-eaten.

They ate in silence, the air heavy with unspoken words. Logan's heart ached as he realized how accustomed she had become to his absence. She no longer looked at him with anticipation, no longer waited for him to initiate conversation. She was used to being alone, even when he was physically present.

After dinner, Y/N washed the dishes while Logan sat at the table, his mind spinning. When she finished, she walked past him to the bedroom, pausing at the door.

"Goodnight, Logan," she said, her voice void of the warmth it once held.

He watched her go, a lump forming in his throat. He followed her to the bedroom, standing in the doorway as she climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. She turned off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

Logan took a deep breath, stepping inside. "Y/N?"

She turned towards him, barely visible in the dim light. "Yes?"

Logan took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts as he sat beside Y/N. The weight of his neglect and the pain he'd caused her pressed heavily on his chest, making it difficult to find the right words. But he knew this was his moment to lay everything bare, to show her just how much she meant to him.

"Y/N," he began, his voice trembling. "I don't even know where to start. I’ve been so caught up in my own world, in my career, that I’ve completely neglected the most important person in my life. You. And for that, I am so deeply sorry."

He looked into her eyes, seeing the hurt and the longing there. "You’ve been so patient with me, so understanding, and I took that for granted. I thought that just because you were always there, I didn’t need to make an effort. But I was wrong. So very wrong."

Tears filled his eyes, blurring his vision. "Every time I missed an important moment in your life, every time I put my career before you, I was chipping away at the foundation of our relationship. I see that now. I see how much I’ve hurt you, and it tears me apart. I see that now. I see how you’ve had to get used to eating alone, how you’ve stopped waiting for me to kiss you goodnight. And it breaks my heart.""

Logan took her hands in his, his grip firm yet gentle. "You are everything to me, Y/N. You are the reason I push myself so hard, the reason I want to succeed. But I lost sight of what truly matters. I thought that by focusing on my career, I was doing it for us, for our future. But what good is a future if I lose you in the process?"

He paused, his voice breaking with emotion. "I miss you, Y/N. I miss your smile, your laughter, the way you light up a room just by being in it. I miss the way we used to talk for hours, sharing our dreams and fears. I miss holding you close, feeling your heartbeat against mine. I miss us."

Logan's tears flowed freely now, his heart laid bare. "You are my rock, my anchor, the person who keeps me grounded. Without you, none of this means anything. I don’t want to wake up one day and realize that I’ve lost the best thing that ever happened to me because I was too blind to see it."

He tightened his grip on her hands, his voice filled with desperation and love. "I promise you, Y/N, I will change. I will make more time for us, for you. I will be there for every important moment, every small victory, and every tough day. I will show you every single day how much you mean to me, how much I love you."

Logan took a deep breath, his voice steadying. "I know it won’t be easy, and I know I have a lot to make up for. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes. Because you are worth it, Y/N. Our love is worth it. And I will never, ever take you for granted again."

He looked into her eyes, his own filled with sincerity and devotion. "I love you more than words can ever express. Please, give me the chance to prove it to you, to show you that I can be the man you deserve. I promise you, with all my heart, that I will never let you down again."

Logan held her gaze, his heart pounding with the hope that she could see the depth of his love and the truth in his words. This was his moment of redemption, his chance to make things right, and he vowed to never let her slip away again.

Y/N couldn't hold back her emotions any longer. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms tightly around Logan, burying her face in his chest as tears streamed down her cheeks. Logan held her close, his own tears mingling with hers, relieved and overwhelmed by her response.

"I love you, Logan," she whispered, her voice muffled against his shirt.

Logan held her even tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I love you so much, Y/N. I’m so sorry."

They stayed embraced for a long moment, finding solace in each other’s arms. Finally pulling back slightly, Y/N looked up at him, her eyes searching his face.

"I believe you," she said softly, a small smile tugging at her lips through the tears. "Let’s make this work, Logan. Together."

Logan nodded, his heart swelling with gratitude and determination. "Together," he repeated, brushing a stray tear from her cheek before kissing her gently.

In that moment, surrounded by their shared love and the promise of a renewed commitment, Logan knew that their relationship was stronger than ever. They had weathered a storm together and emerged with a deeper understanding of each other’s needs and a renewed sense of purpose.

[misc-obeyme]

Sigh. Okay. Here's the Levi demon form smut. I don't think it turned out very good, but I'm tired of messing with it. And I spent time writing it, so I figure I might as well post it. I'm sorry, Levi, I swear I'll do you justice one day~

GN!MC x Leviathan

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: penetration (reader receiving), Levi being silly and blushy and anxious, demon form, tail stuff (I'm struggling with how to label this - the tail wraps around MC, MC sucks on the end of it, and it also stimulates MC but doesn't penetrate... okay that'll have to do I guess), sexy potion (briefly mentioned and Levi drank it lol), cockwarming, biting, man I hope that's it

Leviathan was already bright red. He kept his eyes squeezed shut, but the blush covering his face was so sweet. He was in his bathtub, back against several pillows and you in his lap. Two piles of clothes were on the floor nearby. He'd been nervous from the start, even though you had done this before. You tried to get him to relax, but it was clear that most of the things you did only made it worse.

You ran your hands over his chest as you pushed back against his erection.

You put your hand on his cheek. “Please, Levi?”

“M-MC!” he protested.

You had asked him if he would shift into demon form and the idea of it flustered him so bad he couldn’t look at you.

You kissed his warm cheeks. “I just wanna see you,” you said as you trailed your lips down his neck.

Levi shivered at the light touch, but he still couldn’t open his eyes.

You sighed and sat up a bit, so you could cup his face with both hands. You rubbed your thumbs across his skin. “Look at me, Levi.”

Obediently, Levi opened his eyes, but it was still difficult for him. He turned his face away, like he was trying to only see you in his periphery. You turned him back to face you.

"Whatever you think about yourself doesn't matter," you said. "I want to see all of you. You can do that for me, can't you?"

Something seemed to shine in Levi’s eyes. Not tears, but a confidence you knew he often didn't feel. And then he was in demon form, confirming that your words had boosted him enough to feel comfortable granting your request.

You watched as the complex horns emerged and the black and indigo coloring splayed across his neck and shoulder. You could feel the tail wrap around your waist. You shifted slightly so the scales rubbed gently across your skin.

You traced your fingertips across the pattern on his neck and the way he whined in response filled you with satisfaction. You leaned back down to press kisses along where your fingers had touched, enjoying the way he began to squirm beneath you.

You rolled your hips, grinding yourself down on his erection, making him cry out.

“A-ah!” Levi’s fingers were suddenly digging into your arms, a sensation you found you liked. His tail tightened around your waist. “MC! Please!”

You smirked and looked down at him. “Please what?”

But Levi couldn’t say it. You knew he would be too embarrassed to. He squeezed his eyes shut again, pressing his lips together and shaking his head.

You laughed a little because his reaction was so cute. You ran your hands through his hair, letting them slide gently up his horns, enjoying the way he shuddered in response. Then you kissed him, running your tongue along those tightly clamped lips in an attempt to get him to relax. It worked. He opened his mouth for you, letting out a little gasp as your tongue slipped inside.

Your kiss became sloppy fast, your hips occasionally rolling languidly downward. Every time you did this, the tail around your waist twitched and tightened just a little.

You pulled away to look down at him again and while his expression was a little more open, the anxiety was still clearly written there.

You pressed kisses across his face, pausing by his ear to whisper, “You’re safe with me. It’s okay to let go a little.”

It was like you had unlocked a secret level. Levi’s hands moved from your arms to your hips and he bucked up into you, letting out a whine that was so needy you couldn’t help but smile.

You rearranged yourself a bit, then sat snugly on his cock. You went slowly, inching down bit by bit so you could hear his noises.

As you went, Levi’s tail wrapped even more circles around you until the tip was brushing against your cheek. You smiled as it edged along your lips then opened your mouth to let it inside.

As soon as the tip of Levi’s tail was inside your mouth, you clamped your lips closed and sucked. You were rewarded by the sight of Levi’s eyes rolling back into his head as he moaned and bucked beneath you.

You steadied yourself with your hands on his chest as you moved your hips, setting a decent pace. Every time his cock was fully inside you, it sent spikes of pleasure through your gut. You moaned around his tail, but didn’t let it out of your mouth. Your tongue was too busy exploring the unusual feeling of his scales.

Levi was a mess beneath you, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you knew there’d be marks later. He couldn’t stop himself from meeting your movements and the lower part of his tail that was wrapped around you seemed to be moving you, too. You found you barely had to do any of the work yourself. You still maintained the pace and position, though, and Levi seemed to be content to let you.

Your heavy breathing filled the room along with the sound of skin smacking against skin and Levi’s soft whines. You decided you wanted to hear a little more, reaching out to pinch one of his nipples.

Levi cried out and you laughed softly around the tail in your mouth. Levi pulled his tail out as it squeezed around you even more. It was almost painful but not quite. You knew he didn’t even realize what he was doing and that made it all the more enjoyable.

“Sorry,” you said between heaving panting now that your mouth was free. “Did that hurt?”

Levi whined. “D-do it again-“

He didn’t have to ask twice. But you decided this time it would be more satisfactory to use your teeth. The tail around you slackened just a bit as you moved your body forward and bit down on the sensitive skin.

Levi was squirming hard beneath you now and you knew it was only a matter of time before he came. You increased your pace, letting your arms rest on his shoulders, pulling him into your body as you focused on your movement.

Everything around you tightened - Levi’s tail, his hands, even his eyes squeezing shut - as he came inside of you.

Levi cried out your name so beautifully as his tail went limp, falling into a heap around you.

Levi kept his eyes closed tight as your pace slackened. You were about to stop when you felt the tip of his tail, still wet from your mouth, finding its way between your legs, just barely touching your most sensitive spot.

It was so unexpected, you gasped.

Levi peeked at you, opening one eye just enough to register the look of surprise on your face. “D-don’t stop,” he said. And his hands gripped your hips hard again, keeping you moving.

“But-!” you protested. “How are you still-?”

The blush that alighted on Levi’s face made you smile. You were about to ask him how he was still hard after he came only seconds ago. There was something going on there, but you felt too good in that moment to pursue it further.

The tail between your legs seemed to have a mind of its own. It was only moments before you weren’t able to form full sentences anyway. You barely registered the look of adorable determination on Levi’s face before you felt that tightening in your gut.

You ended up leaving light scratch marks across his chest as you came, his tail continuing its ministrations as you rode out your orgasm.

You drew in some heavy breaths as you collapsed against Levi, letting your head settle in the crook of his neck. His arms moved to wrap around you, hugging you close to him, and his tail did the same, but not too tightly.

“You’re still hard,” you said, pressing light kisses to his neck.

Levi groaned. “Asmo gave me this potion…”

You laughed softly against his skin. “Oh, was it more potent than you thought it’d be?”

“D-don’t laugh, MC!” he said even as his grip on you tightened.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “Do you want me to help you out?”

Levi was quiet for a long time before he finally said. “A-actually, if you could just… stay like this…”

You were more than content to stay in Levi’s arms and cockwarm him all night if that’s what he wanted. You both fell asleep soon enough, though it would take some time for the potion to fade.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[squoxle]

Hi ! Could you write something where like y/n is sucking or playing with heeseungs dick & she just got her fresh nails done and they’re pretty and EVERHTING & she poses with heeseungs dick and adds a bow …

(Sorry for taking so long to respond to your request)

French Tip ~ L. HS

pairing: sugar-daddy!bf!heeseung x babygirl!gf!reader| wc: 1.3k | plot: after getting your nails done, you're excited to show Heeseung your fresh, new set. | cw: 🔞MDNI!! blow job, boob job, hand job, basically touching his dick in every way possible and snapping a few pictures lol bc why tf not (there're also a few cute moments hehe)

Having your boyfriend pay for your nails was nothing out of the ordinary to you. He did this almost every week, or whenever else he thought they should be done.

Sometimes you would ask for his input, but today was not one of those days. You wanted to surprise him with a fresh, natural-looking set.

French Tips...

"When you finish getting your nails done, send me a pic. I wanna see what they look like," he said before kissing you on the cheek. You could still smell the scent of coffee from this morning in the air.

That alone was addicting enough, but when the scent of his Channel cologne was mixed in only one thing was on your mind. And that was getting back in bed with him. Or at least pleasing him while he tells you how pretty you look.

"Okay," you smiled softly as you looked into his sweet doe eyes. You pulled the gold chain of your black clutch bag over your shoulder as you headed out the door.

You would've loved for him to take you to your nail appointment today, but he had some business to take care of at home. To be specific, he had a very important meeting over Zoom with a few of his colleagues concerning a very important business deal, which he made crystal clear to you the day before.

Before heading to your appointment, you stopped to place an order for some desserts. Heeseung planned to have a business party next week and he left you in charge of the food.

"Why do you want me to do it? Can't you just hire someone else to take care of this," you asked, not because you had a problem with it, more so for the reason that you were honestly curious.

"Well, you have good taste," he smiled.

"Mhm, sure I do."

"Well, that and you taste good," he smirked, pulling you close to flick his tongue across your lips.

You took a sip from your water bottle as you walked into the beauty salon. "Good morning, Dear. Are you here for your 9 o'clock appointment?" Mrs. Yanez asked from behind the desk.

"Yes, ma'am," you smiled.

"Alright, I'm just gonna log you in," she said as she clacked away at her keyboard. "Do you know what you want to do today?"

"Yes, I'll need a full, fresh set along with a mani-pedi."

"Did you want a massage as well?"

"No, that's alright."

"You sure, it's 30 percent off today. Plus you've accumulated a total of 1500 pretty points with us."

"Hmm, well I'll definitely use those points another day," you smiled. "And as much as I would love a discounted massage, I kinda wanna get back home a little early today."

"Ooh, Mr. Lee must be home today," she teased.

"Yes, he is," you chuckled.

"Well, then I won't keep you waiting any longer," she smiled before pushing a small black button. She often reminded you of the tía-sobrina relationship you never had. You could talk to her about anything, and trust me...she wanted to hear it.

"Right this way, Miss," a masked employee nodded as you followed her to the back. You giggled as Mrs. Yanez playfully waved to you with a smirk on her face.

You sat down in a soft leather chair as you explained what look you were going for today. "I would like a natural-looking set. Almost like French tips, but with natural shades."

"So no white tip?"

"Well white like the color of my natural nails," you explained pointing to the whites of your nails.

"Okay, perfect. I can do that for you. Gloss or not gloss?"

"Gloss," you smiled, as the lady turned around to pick from the colors on her shelf. A nude color, an off-white color, and a pale yellow--which she mixed with the white to match the natural color of your nails.

Having a custom color mixed made your nails feel pretty unique. Plus, this was a style you never tried before, so you were excited to see how they'd come out.

After about 45 minutes you were ready to go. Two people ended up working on you which sped up the process.

"Tell Heeseung I said hello," Mrs. Yanez smiled as you walked out.

"I will," you chuckled as she waved to you.

You climbed into your car before heading over to a nearby boba shop to pick up some drinks. Matcha for you and brown sugar for him. You liked extra boba and he liked extra syrup. These were little details you could never forget.

*Click* you snapped a shot of you holding the brown sugar boba because it looked better with your nails, even though it was for Heeseung.

Within seconds he opened the message and hearted the pic you sent. "They look nice, babe," he texted. You were surprised he even said that much.

"Maybe his meeting hasn't started yet. Or maybe they canceled it," you thought to yourself. Either way, you couldn't wait to get back home.

"Heeseung?" you called out as you stepped out of your shoes. Your car keys, clutch bag, and phone balanced between your fingers as you carried both of the drinks over to the counter. You had drunk about a fourth of your by the time you made it home.

You placed yours on the counter as you walked into his home office.

You knocked softly as you opened the door. Heeseung didn’t say a single word, but the look on his face told you everything. “I’m a little busy right now, babe. You can come back later, okay.”

You paused in both shock and embarrassment for a moment before a cheeky smirk appeared on your face. You closed the door behind you before walking over to his desk.

He was trying his best not to look at you, but you could tell he wanted to.

You placed his drink on the desk next to him before crawling under the desk. As professional as Heeseung tried to be at times, he loved wearing his sweat pants and you liked them too.

They were comfortable and made pulling his dick out so much easier.

You fiddled around with his drawstring causing him to wiggle a bit from your touch before you managed to get his dick out. You felt him harden between your palms as you stroked him up and down. That's when an idea popped into your head.

You pulled your phone out and snapped a shot of his tip against your tongue. You placed your phone down beside you as you began to suck him off. You felt him lean forward slightly, trying his best to contain his excitement.

You kissed the head of his dick to give him a chance to readjust himself. You could hear the voices of his colleagues coming from his computer as you continued to suck him off. You pulled back to unbutton your blouse using your tits to take the place of your hands as you jerked him off.

*Click* you took another pic of his dick nestled in between your tits.

You traced your tongue up the length of his shaft before taking it back in your mouth. It wasn't long before you heard him getting ready to end the call.

You looked up at him from under the desk. "Couldn't wait until after my meeting," he asked with a smirk.

You shook your head no as you continued to bob your head on his cock.

"Did you at least enjoy yourself?"

"Hmm...almost. I still feel like I'm missing a little something."

"And what would that be?" he asked cheekily, though he was fully aware of what you wanted...especially after you opened your mouth to tap his tip on your tongue.

He grabbed your head, shoving it down as he pumped himself into your mouth. Just as he was getting ready to cum he pulled your head back to coat your tongue.

*Click* He took a photo of your sitting between his legs with his cum all over your tongue and a dazed look on your face.

He paused to tap away at his phone before sending a pic of you with a bow edited on your head looking completely cum drunk.

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @mimikittysblog @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @mrswolfhard3 @laylasbunbunny @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae @lovesickxmina @urfavberry @urauntiefaye @breadlover01 @taehyunsfavmo

[whimsybats]

Task Force 141 x Batmom!Reader (Pt. 1?)

crossover AU

platonic Task Force 141 x batmom!reader x batfam

Bruce Wayne x Reader

(this is my first time writing headcanons on here or anywhere so I'm so sorry if it sucks LOL I might be adding more parts to this later/making it a series of headcanons? I need to get used to writing characters and their personalities, any tips would be appreciated!)

Batmom!Reader who was brought into the events of MW1 under Laswell's command.

I'd imagine she'd have become a Lieutenant. Prior to the events of MW1 she might've worked with Ghost a few times.

She assisted Gaz and Price in Piccadilly. With her medical skills and tactics she made an impression on both of them securing her place in 141 as the resident medic.

Her alias is up to you! (ex; Soap, Ghost, Gaz etc.)

I'd imagine she met Bruce pre-robin era after Piccadilly and assisted with an evacuation while he was Batman, despite his multiple attempts to get her out as well.

He then likely looked her up on the computer in the Batcave, intrigued. Bruce noticed her military background, seeing her involvement with Piccadilly among other events in her career, it made sense.

"Lieutenant (L/N)..." Bruce eyed the computer in interest.

"Another one of your... projects Master Bruce?"

"Something like that I guess."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Eventually you met as Bruce and (Y/n) and had gotten married along the way with having adopted your kids.

When you found out Bruce was Batman, you weren't too shocked, seeing as one of your teammates literally code name is Ghost and also dresses... in a similar scary fashion.

One by one he met your team. They each took their turns interrogating him, Price and Ghost the most. They had to make sure he treated their teammate well after all.

Alfred and Price got along well, likely bonding over their shared paternal figure roles and SAS backgrounds.

Soap and Gaz likely bond well with Dick and Jason.

I'm fairly certain Stephanie and Soap would make a great duo. They would so play pranks around the manor, one time they messed with Ghost maybe messing with his gear like his mask or something (maybe making it something cute instead of scary idk LOL) and he couldn't find his backup, so he had to go around in some cute cat balaclava or something.

Ghost might give them some jump scares once in a while, maybe standing in the corner like Drax when they realize some of their equipment is jammed only giving them a eerie smile under his mask and leaving them to figure out some of their own equipment was replaced with water guns or something.

You might end up having to defuse potential fights between Ghost and Bruce reminding you of Bruce's old fights with Jason.

Speaking of Jason... he and Kyle might try to "one up" each other but neither thinking that anything can really beat being revived straight from a Lazarus Pit.

"Ever fallen out of a helicopter... twice?" Gaz smirked.

"Nah, but you ever try dying?" Jason asked in response earning widened eyes from Gaz.

"You serious mate?"

"More than I'd like to admit," he shrugged, "but hey, more to hold over B's head the better."

"Bloody hell... Gotham is insane."

"Takes one to know one, or something like that."

---

Okay so we know Ghost likes to throw in an occasional joke but imagine he'd pull one in front of your kids.

"What do you call a soldier who loves to paint?" he asked Damian who simply looked up at him and glared with Jason right behind him.

"An art-illery master," queue the complaining from Jason and an eye twitch from Damian.

Bruce often gets more stressed whenever you're on the field, somehow he always finds a way to sneak into the comms and make sure your okay on a private line.

"Bruce I'm fine," you grunted as you took down an enemy, "let me speak to my damn Captain."

"...No."

"B..." you sighed, "I'll make sure this mission is done as quick as possible. Just go take care of the kids for me."

"Fine," he grumbled.

"I love you- now give me back my line to Price."

He mutters a "love you too" before cutting the line.

"What the hell was that Lieutenant?" Price asked on a private line with you and 141.

"My dumb husband," you rolled your eyes. (This would likely be when they know Bruce is Batman to avoid confusion)

Soap would whistle on the comms "Someone misses their missus huh?"

"Don't push it Johnny."

----

tag list: @otterluver05 @sad-girl09

please feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged for any upcoming fics related to this crossover!

[ghostofhyuck]

AN: Hey, hahaha it's my first time writing a suggestive, detailed make-out session so don't judge me lmao.

01:47 AM

"Hey beautiful," Mark grins as soon as the door closed.

Coming home to see you sitting on the couch, waiting for him despite the late night gives him energy even though he spent the whole day practicing for their concert. To add to that, he's also working on his solo too.

"Hey love," you giggled as you approached him. His arms automatically spread just so you could embrace him with ease. As soon as you crashed onto him, his arms wrapped around you tightly. He breathes onto your hair, smelling the vanilla-scent of your shampoo. Mark smiles fondly as he gives it a sweet peck.

"How's your practice?" you asked, looking up to him.

"Tiring, the kids' never ran out of energy! But it was a fun practice, hopefully we stay healthy until the tour ends," Mark explains.

"Is that so? Do you want to sleep now? I know you have a schedule tomorrow," you said with a concerned tone.

Mark thought about it for moment, but this is only one of the nights where he goes home to you. Especially when you're still awake. He often catches you sleeping when he arrives, and could only savor a few hours in the morning because he has to leave early too.

"I'm good, I just miss you baby," he confessed.

You smiled at him, brushing his hair fondly. "You miss me?"

"So so fucking much," he said. His voice deeper than before.

You only let out a small laugh when you felt his lips crashing onto yours. Mark can taste the peach lip balm of yours. Never mind that you already did your nightly lip care routine, all he wants is you.

You kissed him back, reciprocating the longing that you had to taste your lover's lips. Your arms draping around his shoulders so that you could pull him closer. While Mark's hands trailed down on your thighs, tapping it gently so that you could jumped onto him. His arms gripping your ass firmly as he carries you all the way to the couch.

Mark lays you down gently. He breaks away from the kiss making you whine quietly.

You saw how his eyes darkened, hands brushing away the stray hair that covered your face. Gently, he cups your left cheek. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this."

"Mark ---" and before you knew, his lips are on yours once again. It's sweet, intoxicating, probably something inside him grew a craving for you.

You couldn't help but to drown into the heat. Feeling things warming up as you can feel your lover's hands trailing around your body. You moaned as his tongue enters your mouth, savoring your taste more.

Mark's lips trailed down on your jaw, leaving trails of kisses on your neck, throat --- until he reached your shoulder, a part where you're sensitive the most. You could only inhale sharply as you can your lover bites your skin, sucking it, and leaving marks on it.

"M-mark," you couldn't help but to call out his name, your hands loosing its grip on his shoulders as you fall more into the pleasure. You could only close your eyes as you feel everything heating up more.

"Baby," Mark called out once again, he kisses you once again, much sloppy this time.

But your eyes widen when you felt Mark's hands trailing down your waist, tugging the waistband of your pajamas. Eyes wide, you lightly pushed Mark away from you.

"Wait, shit I'm sorry baby," Mark apologized immediately, realizing what he has done.

"No, no, it's okay," you answered back. "Things got heated up too."

"No, it's not okay, I crossed your boundaries."

You only smiled at your boyfriend. "Mark you didn't, I pushed you away and you got the signal, you stopped immediately."

Mark became quiet for a while. Guilt eating him up.

Despite the many times you two made out, you two never had sex because both of you decided to do it after marriage. It sound old-school but Mark respected that decision of yours when you first open it up.

Mark knows where his boundaries are and he never done things that would make you uncomfortable. He's satisfied with what you two had. There were only a few times he almost crossed the line but once you told him to stop, he immediately does, and that's one of the reason why you love Mark so much.

"I'm really, really, sorry baby," Mark said once again.

"One more sorry from you and you're ban from my kisses," you taunted.

"Okay, I'll stop," Mark said, even raising both of his hand as a sign of defeat.

You smiled once again, cupping his cheeks and planting a quick kiss on his lips.

"I think we should sleep now," you told him. Thinking that things might go far if you two start another make-out session.

Mark only chuckles as he steals a kiss from you, "yeah we should just sleep."

Your boyfriend gets up from the couch first, and before you could move, Mark swings his arms around your legs and waist, carrying you bridal-style.

"Mark! I can walk you know?" you said to him, punching his shoulder lightly.

"Just practicing," Mark said.

You raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

And before he answers, he kisses you once again. "For our wedding night."

[gtairy]

Ellie doesn't know how long she's been lying on her bed now. She just feels nauseous, sweaty, and gross. Periods suck, especially for Ellie, who seems to have a curse burning her womb from inside out.

You try to support her the best you can, knowing how hellish her cramps can get. Sometimes, she almost faint, and it's painful for you to watch your girlfriend's lips turning pale and her eyes watering from pain. You feel helpless and sad.

So you get her food (always making sure to get foods that won't sit heavy on her stomach) advil, a hot water bag for her, and prepare her a warm shower.

Surprisingly, Ellie is really whiny during her periods, growing clingier even though she becomes more sensitive to heat, but still holds onto you like a bug when sleeping and begs you to be the little spoon.

Sometimes, she will abuse your goodwill just to get you to do something for her. Why? Simple, because she wants to.

"Babe, can you please get the controller? It's too far away, and my back hurts like hell," she gives you those pouty lips, and you can't say no, it's just grabbing a controller, even if you're far away, even if you're already making her dinner.

"I'm really craving ice cream right now," she says, watching television with you, her head on your lap as you give her a back massage to help her fall asleep, she knows what she's doing; she knows you won't say no to her. So the next thing you know, you're grabbing your car keys to drive to the nearest market that's open at this late hour to get your girl some ice cream.

She's often bragging about pain and making you massage her back or scalp, wanting to be all you pay attention to, wanting to be showered with kisses and praise. She knows it's tiring for you, but what can she do? She loves you too much, and once this hell week passes, she'll make sure to make it up to you...

Sorry if it's bad! It's my first time writing and actually posting, and also, English is not my first language, so I might have written this poorly. I hope you enjoyed it.

[sexilene]

I FEIN FOR A FULL FIC ABOUT PRINCESS!READER WRITTING IN HER DIRAY S'SO CUTE LIKE

yeesss OFC!! ignore any mistakes sorrriii ˚ ༘✶ ｡˚ ⁀➷ princess!reader w - mentions of sex, p in v, rafe making it up to you through sleepy sex!!

your nighttime self-care routine sometimes included needing to write in your diary the things you wouldn't dare say out loud. you sat on your side of the bed with the dim warm light illuminating the room while rafe took a shower. often doing all your skincare, shower stuff, and oral care before rafe so that after you can let it all marinate before sleeping. you grab your pink fluffy pen from your nightstand to start your journaling. 

dear diary, today was so totally not great, rafe ended up leaving me this morning to play golf with the boys even after he promised to take me to martino's to get some tea cakes that i've been craving for the past week!! AND on top of that, i missed a hair appointment since rafe had the car all day and he's like my boyfriend chauffeur!! this blows!! i hate him and he will not be given kisses or sex until further notice. 

rafe walks out of the bathroom, with a towel around his waist, his hair all wet, and droplets of water running down his muscles. the view almost makes you forget why you were pissed at him in the first place, but then you quickly snap out of it when you remember you are supposed to be "ranting" in your diary. 

"whatcha doin'?" rafe asks, making you look over at him, he's put on some comfy pajama pants and sat down on his side of the bed, leaning over to look at what you are writing. 

"i'm doing self-care, it's my de-stress diary." 

"why do you need a diary? that's what i'm here for, tell your secrets to me." he shrugs and leans closer to really read what's on the pages. 

"nuh uh, somethings i would say aren't lady-like." you bring the diary to your chest to prevent him from reading it. 

"hey, lemme see. i'm basically entitled to read your diary, it's a boyfriend's right."

"no baby that's just an invasion of privacy." you giggle which makes him huff.

"okay well we promised no secrets, so give it here." he reaches for the diary, you roll your eyes and give up, handing it to him. 

"fine, but i should not be held accountable for what i wrote, its girl stuff."

"aww shit baby, i forgot about martino's, i'm sorry," he remembers as he beings to read what you wrote. "no sex or kisses until further notice? that's fuckin' ridiculous kid." he furrows his eyebrows while he's reading. 

"mm-hmm, it's not like you'd notice anyways since you've been so "busy" recently." you exaggerate and roll your eyes.

"don't roll your eyes at me, fix your attitude." he points at you scoldingly which only makes you pout and reach for the diary again. 

"if you think you really need this then fine, but no more talking shit about me in there. use your words." he closes the little book and hands it back to you. 

"i did." 

"you know what i mean." 

"i can't say it to your face." you shake your head and place the diary on your nightstand. 

"yes, you can." he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to him, your back to his bare chest. 

"you smell really good." you sigh, wishing you could just give in and climb on top of him.

"thank you, baby. so do you." he kisses your bare shoulder, slipping down the thin strap of your silky nightgown. 

"but i'm still mad at you."

"rant to me then."

you sigh again, "you forgot that today was supposed to be our day, you suck and if you really loved me you wouldn't have done that." you exaggerate again. 

"i know princess, i know, and i'm sorry but i do love you so don't even start." your boyfriend chides, look back at him and he takes the opportunity to kiss the corner of your mouth. 

"no rafe, no kissing."

"don't be brat, i'll make it up to you. take you to martino's first thing tomorrow and i'll take you to do your hair, how'bout i fuck you to sleep nice n' slow right now? hmm?" he places his hand on the side of your face to bring you closer so he can press a kiss to your cheek. 

"mmhm ohkay, be gentle." you nod, rafe just grins and attacks you with soft kisses all over your lips, jaw and neck.

"just relax baby, lay down i'll do all the work." rafe extends his arm to reach over to your nightstand light to turn it off, now the only light coming in is the moonlight streaming in through the balcony windows. you lay back against the mattress, head hitting the pillows and rafe lifts the thin dress above your hips. never really wearing panties under your nightgown while you sleep, he rubs your bare pussy with the pads of two of his big fingers. rafe pulls himself out, also not wearing any boxers under the plaid pajama pants to sleep, and lines himself up to slowly push in, you wine and dig your nails into his biceps. 

"shshsh....you're fine." your boyfriend soothes as he begins to slowly and gently stretch you out, giving you a few wet kisses on your neck. the way he smells and feels on top of you makes you feel so warm and sleepy, that your eyes begin to fall closed as he thrusts into you very softly.

"i love you," you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck to make you feel closer to him even though he's balls deep inside you right now. 

"i love you more princess, jus' fall asleep, i've got you."

[nyctoaerah]

Hi queen aerah! I'm a follower from quotev and i really love your works especially divine punishment 🩷🫶🏻 i was hoping to request something, if you accept ofcourse, if you do then could you please do a yandere suguru one?🥰

𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓

╰┈➤𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: Nanako and Mimiko asks you the reason as to why you’re wearing a blindfold, and what they found out chilled them to the bone, as they realized the truth about your blindness.

╰┈➤𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere stuff, Medical description of stuff, Manipulation, Drugging, Forced Blindness (Lmao)

╰┈➤𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere! Suguru Geto x Oblivious! Blind! Reader

╰┈➤𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: I do not support or approve of any of the behaviors and actions depicted in this story. The content is intended solely for entertainment purposes. Hearts and reblogs are greatly appreciated<3. Kinda mid ig? Not rlly satisfied abt this. I'll do the other reqs next once i get the motivation to write<3

Masterlist

You softly hummed a tune while sitting on the plush mattress, feeling Nanako gently brush your hair.   Mimiko was lounging on your lap as she stared at the ceiling.

“Your hair is so soft mama.. like silk”

Nanako said, admiration tinging in her voice at the softness of your hair, showering you with compliments as she held the right section in her hand and the left in her left hand, leaving the middle section loose. 

Despite having no vision, you could feel her lips curling into a smile and it made a small smile to appear on your lip.

“Thank you, Nanako.” You said softly.

The bond between you, Nanako, and Mimiko had grown strong over time, as they were practically adopted by Suguru, your husband, and raised as his own.  Despite Nanako and Mimiko’s bratty tendencies, they showed genuine kindness and affection towards you.

Nanako, in particular, often displayed a more bratty attitude, while Mimiko seemed content to follow her lead like her loyal minion. It was reminiscent of the classic dynamic between a popular girl and her devoted sidekick.

However, despite that, you loved them too, and treats them as your own daughters.

“Mama, can I ask you something?”

Nanako’s sudden inquiry cut through the air, her eyes searching for affirmation as she sucked in a deep breath and stole a fleeting glance at Mimiko. Without breaking eye contact with you, she searched your expression for any signs of discomfort, to know if you are comfortable with her asking you questions.

“Hm? Ofcourse,” You replied.

Curiosity danced in your mind as you could feel Nanako’s hesitant demeanor. Even without sight, the slight hastening of her heartbeat was a sign of her nerves. Sensory perception was your gift, something that helped you a lot, because you don’t really have a vision.

“Well...” Nanako trailed off, unsure of how to start.

“Don’t hesitate to ask, okay?”

You gently reached out, your fingers seeking hers, your lips parted when you felt the texture beneath your touch felt different—It wasn’t Nanako's hand you held, but Mimiko’s.

“...wait, your hands feels different.. wait no, these are mimiko’s”

The sudden awareness painted your cheeks with a blush of embarrassment, a mix of confusion and awkwardness mingling in your expression.

As the realization dawned on you, Nanako's suppressed laughter bubbled forth, a ghost of a smile gracing Mimiko's features. A reassuring squeeze of your hand conveyed understanding and acceptance. “It's okay,” Mimiko's silent gesture seemed to say.

Apologizing sheepishly for your mistake, you couldn't deny the lingering embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, hoping to dissipate the awkwardness that hung between you.

“Didn’t see that, sorry girls.” You chuckled.

“Mama, stop with the blind jokes.” Nanako deadpanned, watching you rub the taut muscles on the back of your neck awkwardly.

“Right..”

“Um, right... What was it you were going to ask, Nanako?” You quickly shifted the conversation, eager to move past the momentary misstep.

“Well...”

Nanako hesitated for a moment before speaking, her voice barely above a whisper. She cleared her throat, her gaze fixed on you as her fingers gently ran through your hair.

“Why do you always wear a blindfold?”

The room fell silent, the weight of her question hanging in the air. 

Confusion clouded your expression as you searched for the right words to respond. The idea of why you wear the blindfold had never crossed your mind, as it was just a part of your daily routine. After all, you were blind, and the blindfold didn't make much of a difference in your world of darkness. All you knew was that Suguru had made it clear that it should never be removed—and you had no desire to provoke him.

Nanako could sense your discomfort as she observed your tense body language. Worried that she may have touched a nerve, she inquired tentatively, “Are you okay mama? You seemed agitated...”

“Nanako...” Mimiko began, her own brows knitting in concern. “That’s quite a sensitive question, don't you think?” She spoke softly, trying to redirect the conversation. 

Realizing her misstep, Nanako quickly shook her head and apologized, burying her face in the crook of your neck, her features partially obscured by your hair. “Ah.. I’m sorry mama! I didn’t realized that i was being insensitive...”

“It's okay,” you reassured her awkwardly, letting out a nervous chuckle as you cleared your throat.

“You’re not mad?” She asked, her voice soft and vulnerable as she pulled away from you, her eyes wide and pleading. Her puppy eyes looked up at you, brimming with an innocence that would have probably tugged at your heartstrings—only if you could see it.

“Hm..? ‘course not, don’t worry," you assured her, a gentle smile playing on your lips.

“‘S fine, really,” you said, your tone calm and reassuring.

“Ah.. right, about your previous question...Well, the reason I wear the blindfold is because Suguru told me to.”

“Huh..? Why would Geto-sama want you to wear a blindfold?”

Nanako’s perplexed tone cut through the air like a sharp blade, her confusion palpable. In her mind, she had painted Suguru as one who adored gazing into one’s eyes, the windows to one’s soul. But now, she couldn’t fathom the reasoning behind concealing them, especially when blindness couldn’t erase the existence of your eyes.

“I... Don’t know...” you trailed off as the room fell into an uneasy silence.

The silence was eventually shattered by Mimiko’s voice, breaking through the tension.

“Geto-sama says that you have the prettiest eyes that he has ever seen.” she chimed in, her gaze flitting between you and Nanako. A subtle shift in her posture saw her abandoning her spot on your lap, choosing instead to perch on the plush mattress.

“Huh? Geto-sama saw mama’s eyes?” Nanako asked, looking flabbergasted.

“Nanako, He’s her husband.” Mimiko reminded her twin sister.

“Right...”

“But then.. if he likes your eyes so much, why would he want you to hide them?” Mimiko’s words cut through the haze of confusion.

Your brows drew together, shoulders slightly slouching.

“I suppose that remains a mystery,” you finally replied, your voice laced with a tinge of curiosity and apprehension.

Mimiko and Nanako studied you curiously, wondering what your eyes truly looked like. Were they as beautiful as Suguru had described? However, they had never been permitted to remove your blindfold, and they weren’t the type to disobey Suguru. Despite their bratty tendencies, they were obedient. 

But then, What secrets actually lay behind that blindfold? They were tempted to take a look, Yet, the girls remained restrained by their loyalty to Suguru, reluctance staining their disobedient thoughts. 

“Perhaps he prefers it that way?” you mused, resting your head on your palms and propping your elbow on your thigh.

“I’m not really sure, if i’m gonna be honest.. he just likes it that way i guess.”

“I can’t even remember how I lost my vision too.”

You had no recollection of how you lost your sight, as your memories seemed to have vanished without a trace. All you knew was that Suguru was your husband, and he claimed that you had lost your memories due to your immune system attacking your eyes. 

According to him, your immune system had somehow identified your eyes as a threat, leading to inflammation and damage that resulted in your blindness. He insisted that there was a scientific basis for this too, as the immune system would attack the eye once it recognized its existence.  

And ofcourse, as the dumb little thing you are, you Believed him.

“Mama, are you okay?” Mimiko’s concerned voice breaks through the fog of your thoughts, drawing your attention. 

You compose yourself, managing a smile.

“I’m fine,” you reassure her softly.

Nanako’s eyes are searching, her worry palpable. “Are you sure?” she presses gently.

You can’t help but be touched by their concern, feeling a warmth blossoming in your chest. Meeting their gazes, you offer another smile.

“I promise, my loves, I truly am okay,” you say, a hint of laughter in your voice as you reach out to embrace them both. 

A surge of gratitude sweeps over you as you hold them close, basking in their presence.

“Having you two by my side and a husband who supports me tirelessly every day, I couldn’t ask for more,” you whisper.

“Life is tough, but atleast i have you all.”

Dumb little you was so oblivious and didn’t knew that suguru was the reason why your life was tough.

If only you had been aware that he was the mastermind behind all of this. He orchestrated the entire scheme that led to your memory loss and deceived you into believing he was your husband. It was also because of him that you lost your sight, although you were too dumb to realize it at the time. 

Suguru was deeply enamored with you and the two of you were once in a romantic relationship. However, when you decided to break up with him, his feelings of love turned into obsession. He resorted to disturbing and dangerous tactics to make sure you stayed with him—Such as manipulating and drugging you, all in the name of his overwhelming love for you as he was unable to bear the thought of losing you.  

It may have been your mistake to allow him into your life, however. Perhaps if you had declined Satoru’s invitation to hang out with him and Suguru, you would have never crossed paths with him. Maybe if you had refused to give Suguru your number or declined the love letters he presented, things would be different.

You wouldn’t be in this situation.

After embracing the girls tightly, you gently released them and affectionately patted their heads. Your expression brightened as you spoke,

“I’ll just show you how they look like to satisfy your curiosity, ‘kay?”

Nanako and Mimiko both eagerly nodded in agreement.  

“I bet they’re really pretty just as Geto-Sama says!” Nanako says and Mimiko nods in agreement.

“.. Suguru shouldn’t mind, at least I hope not,” you muttered under your breath.

With a deliberate motion, you gently lifted the blindfold with a slender finger, allowing just a sliver of sight for Mimiko and Nanako to catch a glimpse of your eyes. The room grew eerily silent as the two girls eagerly leaned in, their gazes fixed upon your mysterious orbs.

However, what they beheld was beyond their wildest imaginations, shattering their preconceived notions. Their eyes widened in disbelief, their pupils constricting in shock as a chilling wave of fear washed over them. Their jaws slackened.

Your eyes were tightly sewn together by a thick black thread infused with cursed energy. The thread was so tightly wound, and your eyelids were merged together, giving the appearance of eyes belonging to a puppet with carefully stitched features.

That was when they realized that you weren’t actually blind.

Nanako’s throat constricted as a strangled gasp clawed at her lips, her heart hammering violently against her ribcage. Mimiko’s body tensed, a tremor coursing through her frame as her eyes widened in sheer horror.

Suguru’s presence seemed to loom unnoticed until that moment, as he loitered casually by the door, propped against the wall with a nonchalant air, his head cocked to one side, observing them with a detached interest.

He was just there the whole moment you three were talking, completely silent and just watching.

A shiver ran down the two girl’s spines as their gazes collided. Suguru’s lips curled up in a knowing smirk, his ice-cold eyes staring at them as he brought a finger to his own lips as he mouths something.

“Can you keep a secret?”

[beesspacedotorg]

Handle With Care

Summary: You've had a truly awful day, luckily, your adoring boyfriend Minho is there to make it better. 2.5k words

Warnings: there's sex, but honestly it feels like someone accidentally got porn in my fluff so do with that what you will. reader is as gender neutral as physically possible. reader is also lowkey a crybaby, sorry but actually I'm not

Notes: Hello adoring public. It turns out, I can write fanfiction, and with the encouragement of Juno and Ems, I can also post it! There is a cat in this, she was inspired by a cat my family used to have and a cat my family currently has. They're both calico which I think explains everything you need to know about them.

There’s a lot you can say about the day you had today, and most of them start with sh- and end in -itty. You’re thinking on this as you dive head first onto the rough material of your couch, great for sitting, bad for face planting. You hear a scratching by your head and absentmindedly bat your cat away from the arm of the couch, mumbling something about how she has a perfectly good cat tree two feet away before resuming your completely justified sulking.

“Oh, hello. I didn’t hear you come home. How was your day?” There’s a voice above you and you can picture him in your mind's eye, leaning against the back of the couch as he stares at your limp form, probably eyeing the shoes you didn’t take off by the door. You mumble something half hearted in response and he huffs before the sound of walking hits your ears and all the breath leaves your body at once. He’s sitting on you. This motherfucker is sitting on you.

“Get off, Minho” You had to tilt your head to the side, it’s hard enough to breathe through couch fabric as is, much less when there’s a full grown man sitting on your back.

“You should answer people when they try to talk to you, jagiya.”

“You shouldn’t sit on people while they’re laying down, yeobo.” Your voice is a lot more acidic than his was and a twinge of guilt settles on you before it dissipates as he shifts and manages to place more weight on your back.

“Hmm. I guess we’re both doing things that we shouldn’t then. How tragic.” His voice is deadpan, and you still can’t see him from where your head is turned- your view is limited to the back of the couch and his arm in your periphery- but you can feel the dead stare he’s aiming at your skull. There’s a silence for a few moments while you engage in a war of attrition, neither of you willing to give up just yet, but it’s getting genuinely hard to breathe and your back is starting to hurt.

“It sucked, please get off.” He does, patting your back consolingly.

“See? Was that so hard?” He guides your head to his lap as you both sit back down, petting over your hair like he would his cats. “Tell me, what’s got my baby in such a tizzy?”

You grumble at him, rolling over to shove your face into his stomach, tired and petulant. He sighs softly, but keeps patting your head, so you know he’s mostly just doing it for show.

“That kind of day, hmm, jagi?” And you nod again. Honestly, it wasn’t much different from a normal day, it’s just that the right things managed to go very wrong and subsequently ruined your day in a way that has pressure forming behind your eyes and your voice cracking stupidly every time you try to talk.

You both sit for a while before he puts something on the TV and gently shoves your head off his lap.

“Hey-”

“Do you want the dinner I worked so hard on to go cold?” He has his hands on his hips in front of you and you laugh slightly at how funny he looks. He rolls his eyes and goes, coming back with two bowls of something before he forcefully sits you up and shoves it in your hands.

“Eat.”

“Yes, chef.”

The food is delicious, it always is when Minho cooks it, he’s got a talent for it you’ve never really seen firsthand, and you consider yourself truly blessed to be able to eat it as often as he’s able to make it for you. Still, gratefulness and taste aside, your day was shitty enough that every mouthful tastes like ash and turns to rot in your stomach, leaving you with an unsettling queasiness that shouldn’t ever be attributed to your boyfriend’s cooking. You’re shoving the contents around with a spoon before he huffs- a real one this time- and takes the bowl from you, setting it on the coffee table next to his own before he mutes the TV.

“Okay. Quite clearly something is wrong. What can I do to help you?” You think he knows, but you like that he asks anyway. Minho always asks, always lets you talk and sort out whatever’s going on before he tries to help. Even if your answer is a simple shake of the head, a simple, I don’t feel like it, become a mind reader, he always asks before he helps. Sometimes you wonder how he always knows what you need, others you just decide to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

You huff and your lip wobbles pathetically and he coos, slightly condescending.

“Crying already? I haven’t even done anything.” He’s teasing, but his hands are gentle as he pulls you into his lap, his hands are gentle as they find their way under your shirt, his mouth is gentle as it kisses down the side of your face to your neck.

“‘M sorry,” you’re not the biggest fan of crying, neither is he, but for different reasons. He’s not someone who’s brought to tears easily, you are, but there’s an inherent shame in it, you think. Something so embarrassing about getting worked up enough to start crying like a baby, and so as much and as often as you feel like crying, you don’t. This he also knows, because he knows everything.

“Aish, why are you sorry for? I didn’t tell you to apologize, did I?” He taps your cheek lightly, causing you to look up at him, he plants a kiss on your nose, then your mouth.

“Sweet thing, don’t worry about anything except for what I tell you to, okay?” And you nod and he smiles.

You’re not much for talking in times like these, everything is so sensitive and soft and talking feels like a cheese grater on this cloudlike moment so you don’t and he knows, so he doesn’t chide you for it. Usually, he would. He’d crack a hand down on your ass or grab a fistful of your hair and tell you that he asked you a question so he expects an answer, but that’s not what you need right now, so he doesn’t. He just kisses your jaw again before he puts both of his warm hands under your shirt and lets his fingers poke at your chest.

He always says his hands are small, but really, you wouldn’t be able to tell, not with the way he cups your chest in his hand and lets his thumb brush over your nipple, gentle and reverent. It’s not much, not as much as he usually gives you, but it’s enough to have your mouth dropping open with a gasp and your back arching into his hand, it’s enough to have him giggling softly at your reaction.

“Sensitive today?” He’s teasing again, as soft as he is right now, he’s still Minho, he still likes to poke fun. You huff, biting at his shoulder softly in retaliation and he lets you, pinching your nipple just this side of too much in retribution before one of his hands wanders down to your ass, groping and squishing the flesh. Your breath stutters in your chest as he pushes your hips forward onto his, friction sending sparks up your spine.

“Min-” You’re desperate and he hasn’t even done anything yet, not really. A few stray touches and you already feel yourself shattering to pieces in his grasp, you’re not afraid though, and not quite ashamed. He’ll take care of you, he always does.

He does it again, guides your hips forward until you’ve gotten the hint to keep going by yourself and you’re struck with the urge to kiss him, so you do, removing your head from the home it’s made on his shoulder and making a go at his mouth. It’s messy, your coordination shot already, and you almost smash your forehead into his nose before he catches your head with a laugh.

“Easy there. Bloody noses aren’t exactly sexy.” You disagree, he could make anything sexy, but you don’t have time to voice that thought as he pushes his mouth onto yours and lovingly shoves his tongue down your throat. The kiss is messy, they always are. However gentle he is, he can never seem to stop himself from kissing you until your face is covered in drool and spit, and if it were anyone else, you’d be mildly repulsed, but you like the way he looks at your mouth after it’s over, so you let it slide. 

You pull away, chest burning and heaving and look at him before you still, eyes drawn to something by his head.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” You don’t answer, gaze still drawn away from him.

“There’s a little white girl staring at me.” He turns his head to the side and laughs as he comes face to face with your cat, her green eyes boring into him. He scratches her head affectionately and lets her headbutt him before your center of gravity is shifting drastically and you’re clinging onto him for dear life.

The bedroom door shuts before you’re very aware of it and suddenly there’s a mattress under your back and a Minho over your front and his hands are up your shirt again, this time shoving it off of you until your chest is bare. You shiver slightly from the cold and then there’s a blanket being shoved around your shoulders and you smile up at him. He knows you so well, he loves you so much and your eyes are welling with tears.

“Aigoo, my little crybaby. It’s just a blanket,” there’s a kiss on each of your cheek bones, “silly thing. Save your tears for when my cock is in you, hmm?” Your breath stutters again and your hands are tugging at his shirt until he takes it off, he laughs again when your hands immediately find his chest.

“I’m glad someone appreciates my hard work.”

“They’re nice boobs.” The sentence catches him off guard, makes him laugh hard enough that he loses his balance a little and his weight settles onto you more. It’s comforting, like a weighted blanket that can talk and walk and kiss you silly.

Then, his hands are under your bottoms, tugging them off your legs and you’re suddenly wearing nothing and he’s still in his pants, which you find disgustingly unfair. You reach down and tug on the hem off his sweats, pouting and huffing until he gets the message and tugs those off too.

“You just want to get me naked,” he starts. “I can’t believe you just want me for my body.” You nod cheekily in response and he smacks your shoulder.

“Yah! See if I’m ever nice to you again!” But he’s kissing your neck again as his hands guide your legs to cross over his hips before he’s touching you in a way that steals the breath from your lungs and makes your head tip back into the pillows.

“There we go. So pretty when you’re like this, hmm? So soft and sweet for me.” His fingers are in you now, pressing insistently against that spot that makes white splash in your vision and reflexively forces your legs shut. He grunts slightly as your thighs squeeze around his hips, pressure just this side of uncomfortable. He doesn’t say anything though, just keeps his pace steady inside you until you’re almost tipping over and he stops. You look at him with something akin to betrayal, fresh tears springing to your eyes, but before you can open your mouth to complain he’s sliding home and you don’t have enough air to say anything anyway.

He catches it though, rolls his eyes as he sees the way your attitude was about to flare up.

“What did I tell you earlier, jagiya? Don’t worry about anything unless I tell you to worry about it. I always take care of you, don’t I?” He does, he’s good to you like that. He sounds slightly out of breath already, unusual for him, but you don’t mind because it feels like you’re seconds away from God’s doorstep yourself.

His pace is slow and deep, bass knock steady even as you squirm under him. If this were a normal situation, he’d stop, hands gripping your hips unforgivingly until you stayed still, but this isn’t a normal situation so he lets you wiggle, only huffing in mild irritation before he leans down to kiss you again.

“You’re gonna knock us off the damn bed, baby.” But he doesn’t make any move to stop you, and you feel too good to really process his words anyway. You love him, you really do, and you’re struck with the overwhelming urge to tell him, to let him know, to make him know. You grip his shoulders tightly, nails digging in until he hisses and levels you with a glare, one that instantly softens when he meets your eyes.

“I love you,” it comes out of you as a sob, like it was wrenched from your vocal chords before you gave yourself permission to think it. “I love you so much.” You’re rambling now, repeating those three words over and over and Minho coos, hips faltering just slightly. He always goes weak when you tell him you love him, and you keep it in your back pocket like a weapon for the times that you’re in trouble.

“I love you, too, jagiya. ‘S that why you’re crying? Hmm? Love me so much it’s gotta spill out from your pretty eyes?” You nod in response, breath hitching from the pleasure and the tears and his hand drifts from its place on your hip to touch you again and you’re spilling liquid heat before you can really register what’s happening. You feel him inside you, too, insides suddenly molten warm but you’re floating too high for it to feel like it’s happening to you, like you’ve been temporarily ejected from your body.

When your soul settles back into your bones, Minho is laying next to you, staring at you with his wide eyes, you look over at him and smile.

“Is boba really worth it?” He looks confused at your question before you poke him on the eyelid and he laughs.

“Feel better?” You consider for a moment. Your teeth don’t feel like they’re too big for their sockets and your bones no longer feel itchy. You’re hungry, but mostly, your mind is quiet. There’s no overwhelming pressure behind your eyes and when you talk your voice cracks from sleep instead of from the force of choking back tears.

“Much. I’m hungry, though.” You give your best impression of puppy eyes at him and watch as his eyes roll to the back of his skull. You’ve been told that your pleading face looks mildly perturbing, but Minho always says you remind him of Soonie when you do it. It makes you feel slightly bad for Soonie, soon the cat isn’t going to be able to get anything off of Minho because you’ll have rendered him immune.

He comes back with your reheated bowl in one hand and your cat in the other.

“She screamed at me until I picked her up. Stood on my feet and hollered.” He winces slightly. “I should’ve put on boxers because she almost mistook my dick for a toy.”

[cramathonn]

Hello! I see your rules and saw Seth on your list. I just got him recently and I wanted to ask if I can request something (a drabble or a oneshot, it's up to you) of our boyo. But let me give some idea worms first.

So, i heard somewhere that Seth is a Lynx thiren (unless I'm wrong, but looking at his thiren features, seems like his counterpart is from the Felidae family), and I researched that Lynxes can purr. So... imagine when reader (gender neutral) was petting Seth (or just give him some fluffy loving) he ended up purring because he's getting very comfortable

Sorry if it's kinda long! You can skip this if you want. It's my first time making a request 😅

This is adorable, anon

And don't worry, it wasn't that long! Throughout my writing history, I've gotten requests that are SO MUCH longer (and the context and worms are much appreciated). Also, I went to check his thiren subspecies and he's just a cat, not a lynx. Lynxes, while being felines, have considerably shorter tails when compared to other members of the Felidae family! Aka, bob cat short. So yeah, I referred to him as cat thiren in this little drabble, I hope you don't mind!

Hopefully you enjoy the sillies!

Warnings: none! Only fluff

Reader: gender neutral (no pronouns used)

Seth Lowell x GN!Reader

Purring

You and Seth were finally alone, relaxing inside the comfort of your shared apartment at Lumina Square. It was an exhausting day for the both of you, with either jobs sucking more energy out of you than usual.

While Seth insisted that you two asked for some food before ultimately sitting down to relax, you convinced him to do so later by bringing his head to your lap and starting to comb through his hair with your fingers. That immediately disarmed your beloved boyfriend and made his face flush red like a tomato. It didn't take long for his body to relax, the tip of his tail starting to slowly wag in contentment.

These small moments were the ones you adored most with him. Yes, you loved your walks alongside the riverbank, going out to run at the park or eat relax at the coffee shop, but this was perfect. Just the two of you, with you sitting on the couch while he had his head upon your lap, basking in each other's presence.

However, something was different this time. A noise, low and rumbly, echoing through your living room. You swore you didn't have any laundy today and you always checked all of your electrical equipment before having a chill couch session, so where was this coming from? You pay more attention to the sound, trying to pinpoint its origing. It was... Coming from beneath you? You looked down, now staring at the top of your boyfriend's head. His ears twitched every so often, leaning a bit backwards as a way to indicate how relaxed he was.

Wait, wasn't Seth a thiren? Specifically a cat one? The name of the noise coming from him was at the tip of your tongue and when you remembered it, the soft smile previously on your face widened slightly. He was purring. Seth, your uptight and slightly reserved boyfriend, was purring. The realization that he felt so at ease, so safe and comfortable in your presence to let his guard down enough to purr made your heart swell with contentment. You changed the way tou caressed the top of his head, which made him turn his head to the side so that he could look at you better, a curious look on his face.

"Everything alright? You changed how you were caressing my head... Not that I mind!"

He asked, voice much more relaxed than usual. It obviously still had that slightly loud factor that made his voice, well, his, but it was obvious to anyone who heard it that this man was calm and comfortable. You laughed at his inquiry, tangling your fingers in his silky white strands, combing through them.

"Oh, it's nothing, Seth. It's just that..."

You pondered for a second. Should you tell him? You worried that if you did he would go back to gaurding himself and stop allowing himself to purr around you, and you didn't want that! You wanted for him to feel free to relax and let his guard down, to allow himself to unwind and confide in you. However, knowing your lovely boyfriend, he'd think you were troubled with something, instead of just being deeply infatuated with his adorable noises. So you decided to simply say it.

"Well, you were purring"

You said, voice soft and filled with undeniable affection for Seth. His ears stood and tail flinched, immediately stopping its suave content swaying.

"O-oh, uhm, I'm sorry about that! It wasn't really meant to come out, it just kind of happens when I'm really relaxed... I'll make sure it doesn't happen again, I pro-"

There it was. Your sweet overthinker of a boyfriend thinking there would be a problem and that you would, most likely, think less of him for just relaxing and emitting natural noises. You made sure to cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

"Seth, hey, it's ok. I don't mind the purring. I think it's cute! It shows me that you're comfortable enough around me to let your guard down and just... Relax, y'know?"

You said in an attempt to make Seth see your point of view. That apparently worked, seeing how his cheeks were now slightly pink and how his tail started to wag its tip once more. The thiren buried his face in your thighs, trying to hide how embarrassed your comment made him. But it also made him feel extremely giddy. You found his purring was cute? And, instead of ridiculing him for something that was natural, you were glad and happy that it meat he was comfortable around you? Heavens, what did he do to score someone as fantastic as you?

"I love you, Seth"

You said, continuing to caress his head and comb through his hair. At that, Seth turned his whole body to the side, hugging you as he shoved his face in your stomach, nuzzling your shirt.

"I love you too, (y/n)"

He answered, muffled by the fabric of your shirt. Seth's voice was soft as he allowed himself to relax once more, his purring returning and you could now feel its rumbling against you. The two of you remained there, you caressing his hair and him cuddling against your stomach. Yeah, you wouldn't trade this for anything in the world.

Written by Cramathonn, 29/09/2024

Concluded at 2:50pm

[bitterrfruit]

already FERALLL at this assistant concept more please

omg...... i'm so sorry for this. can you tell i'm ovulating? somebody sedate me please

[he wants a word with you]

Your boss is a prick and a cunthound. You need this job. here's [part 1] for some John POV Executive John Price x EA f!Reader 18+ mdni - 2.5k words - cw: degradation, free use, maybe dubcon?

You follow Mr Price down the stuffy corporate corridor, with your swollen heart in your throat. 

What did you do wrong this time?

Was there an email you failed to send? A meeting you forgot to book? Maybe you saved a document in the wrong place. Maybe you missed one of your many deadlines. 

You watch his besuited back, broad and tall, the billow of his open jacket as he marches ahead of you with long and aggravated strides. The back of his neck burns hot and red, he digs white-knuckled fingers into the angry skin as he rubs it vigorously. 

You pass the incoming traffic of other colleagues, and you see the concern in their glare when they look at Mr Price and then at you. An unspoken apology for your imminent castigation. A silent yikes.

Fuck, he’s going to fire you. Whatever you’ve done must have been catastrophic. Did you cost him profits? Did you humiliate him in front of a client?

“Did I do something wrong?” You anxiously chirp, fearful of being too loud but not wanting him to mishear you over the sheer volume of his fury. 

He doesn’t answer you. 

Instead he comes to a sudden stop, and you almost slam into him with the keen velocity of your pursuit. 

He gestures into the open door on his left, his other hand hooked on his hip under his jacket. 

“I don’t-”

“In,” he grits, lips pursed into an admonishing line, and you do not disobey him. 

With a skip you enter the room, heart thundering in your ears, and he storms in behind you. 

The stationery supply room; cupboards and shelves, full of paper and writing utensils. Atop the counter sits a guillotine cutter, open reams of white A4, a few stray cuttings littered about. On the one bare wall is a hip-height printer, one that most often fails to work. The air is dry and powdery, thick with the clinical scent of fresh paper and ink. 

Mr Price leaves the door ajar, and he wipes down his face with an open and rigid palm. 

“What is wrong with you?” He suddenly blurts, his interrogative glare shoots straight through you. 

His eyes are wide and angry, and you shuffle on your feet, fidget with your fingers. “What did I do?” 

He only steams ahead with his reprimand - closing in on you, heavy step by heavy step, you stagger backwards on instinct. “Slobbering all over that fuckin’ pen. Christ. Are you trying to drive me crazy?” 

Your back hits the wall behind you, it pushes a puff of nervous air from your open lips. Eyes fluttering between his, you choke on any words you think to offer him. 

“I - I don’t - pen? - I didn’t-”

“What more can I do?” He growls, cranes his head to close the distance, “How far away do I have to put you?” 

You suck deep a quivering breath as you blink up at him, his head a foot above yours and his body all but trapping you where you stand. 

“I don’t understand,” you whimper. “What am I doing wrong?”

He huffs like a bull. “You’re fuckin’ killing me, love.” 

You feel your mouth water when he calls you that. It makes your cheeks glow strawberry red. 

“What can - what do you want me to do?” You ask timidly, sweetly - you want so desperately to please him. You can’t lose this job. You can’t have him disappointed in you. 

He rubs his jaw with a straining hand, his murky eyes rake from your lips and linger on the faintest bit of cleavage in the collar of your button down. 

“I want you to turn around.”

His order is uttered dark and hoarse, so low that you feel the vibrations of his voice from where you stand. 

Your lips part gently, bottom lip trembling as you swallow under his heated glower. 

But you do as you’re told. You’re a good listener, you can show him that.  You spin around awkwardly in the tight space between his heaving body and the wall, until you’re met with the cold white drywall against your nose. 

You hear his breathing turn ragged and animal, almost growling, it makes you sweat. You lift your arms cautiously, placing both palms flat on the wall, and stand on the very tips of your toes. 

His hands are on you, then, hasty bear claws comb over your ass and clutch the meat of your hips like you might slither away from him. He tugs you backwards and you rock on your toes, arch your back to meet his pelvis with your behind. 

You feel it, hard as iron and heavy as tungsten behind his straining trousers; he grinds his rigid cock against you, warning you with it, letting you feel the weight of it. He hunches forward, you feel his wiry beard against your cheek and his warm lips against your ear. 

“You proud o’ yourself?” He snarls, a bestial gurgle deep in his chest. “Proud of what you do to me?” 

Your heart buzzes with such speed that it makes you dizzy, turns you stupid. 

“I’m - uh - I’m not-”

You want to smack yourself for your inability to form a single sentence, a single word, as you feel his harsh fingers claw up the back of your thigh, catching in the sheer black nylon that clings to your feverish skin. 

“Nothing to say for yourself?” He gnars into your skin, you feel his teeth as he speaks. “‘Course not. You’re a fuckin’ airhead, aren’t you?” 

His wide paw reaches the hem of your pencil skirt, the fabric too taut to be pulled up with ease - so he clutches the back of it with both hands, grips either side of the stiff kick pleat. 

You yelp as you feel him rip your skirt apart by the seam, the tear of the fabric shrill and ear-splitting. Your head urgently spins on your neck as you shoot a glance at the open door - muted voices of others in the office travel through the gap, blissfully unaware of your indiscretion. 

“Someone might-”

Bitten off by a gasp, his angry fists grasp at your stockings where they meet at a seam that runs down the cleft of your ass. He rips that, too, hurried and ravenous; he stretches a wide hole in the thin nylon that runs in a ladder between your legs. 

“Someone might come in.” You finally find the words, moan them out in a hasty breath like he might cut you off before you can warn him. 

He hisses; “I don’t care.”

His hand forms a blade, slicing between your legs and hooking under the gusset of your knickers; you hold your breath, sucking your lip between your teeth and biting down hard enough to draw blood. His thick fingers run along your slit, goading and mean, triggering a pathetic little whimper from your throat when you don’t have the words to plead. 

They push past your lips, dipping between your sodden folds like he’s checking the temperature before venturing any deeper. You feel him grin against your neck, beard abrasive against your sensitive skin, as he lets out a low, cruel chuff of laughter. 

“Fu-hu-huck,” he chortles, mocking, and you only let out a stifled cry as he coaxes your opening with the tips of greedy fingers. “Like being told off, do you?” 

He kisses the side of your neck in a hungry and messy suck, shivering gooseflesh crawls from his bite and down your spine. He plays with your syrup between his fingers, marvelling at the quantity, the slipperiness. 

You squeak as a single finger presses against the ring of muscle at your entrance, and pushes past it - he hooks it, drags it against your slick inner wall with a pressure that makes you grind against his hand to force it further. 

“Answer me.” 

You whine in complaint before you reply as instructed. “Yes,” you croon, writhing and eager.

He obliges you and stuffs his finger deeper, two knuckles deep, and his palm is flush with your cunt.

“Mh. You do. Fuckin’ soaked, aren’t you?” He hums deeply, hoarsely, pleased. 

He pulls his finger out of you, then, and you groan in frustrated defeat. 

“Don’t fuss, love,” he grumbles. “You’ll get your fill.” 

With your head over your shoulder, you watch in your periphery as he smears his glistening fingers down his lips, under his nose - sticks them in his mouth and sucks them clean like he might savour the taste. 

“Mh,” he rasps, grins, letting the scent and flavour of your cunt fill his mouth and sinuses until it turns his shark eyes black and hungry. “Fuckin’ good.” 

You hear the leathery clinking of his belt buckle as he undoes it, the strident rip of his fly as he tears it down. A shuffle, a grunt, and his heavy cock lands against your lower back with a thump. 

You gasp, turn rigid - he runs a firm hand down your spine, rests it in the dip of your back, pushes a deeper curve in the arch. Grasps your hip and yanks it back, rams your body against his, angles your pelvis just right. 

He grabs his cock in a fist, smacks its solid against your ass like it’s a burden. 

Holds his fingers to his lips and hucks up a lump of spit, crude and dirty, you feel him smear it against your cunt as pulls your panties to the side. 

He gives no warning as he feeds his length through the hole he tore in your stockings, slides the blunt and fleshy head along your slit to coat it in the amalgam of fluids that drip from you. His tip finds its sheath, nestling between your folds and rutting against your tight opening as if to taunt you. 

With a hoarse growl he bucks his hips, his cock breaks through your entrance and rams deep into your cunt with a single thrust. It forces a wet and mewling cry from your throat, forgetting that the door to the room is open and freely accessible to anybody you work with. 

“Shh-sh-sh,” he hisses, he undoes his tie with a single hand as the other keeps your hips tight against him. 

He ruts again, somehow deeper still, and you let out a sore yelp - but he shuts you up, stifles your crying as he packs his steel-blue tie into your open mouth. Stuffs the silk fabric behind your teeth until no more will fit, and your saccharine noises are dampened into muffled whimpers. 

“Tha’s better. Fuck,” he curses through teeth. “Can barely fuckin’ fit in that little cunt of yours.”

His hand holds your throat, then, and the other controls your hip with vicious strength - and he fucks you in earnest. Fucks you hard and hostile, the round head of his cock hammers your aching cervix as if he could fuck past it. Fucks you like he’s angry, like he has been eagerly waiting for each forceful thrust - pent up since he met you, fuel only added to the flame every day that you came to work. 

The tie in your mouth is sopping wet with your keening saliva, your eyes well with tears of some twisted rapture - you want to tell him it hurts, but not to tell him to stop. 

“You take it good, don’t you? Found one fuckin’ thing you’re good at, eh?”

You whimper. You like him mean, don’t you? You like him angry. 

You spilled that tea on purpose. You deliberately missed that deadline. You talk loudly because you know it frustrates him. You suckle on that pen because you know he wishes it were his cock. 

His heavy hand clutches your wrist and pins it to the wall in front of you, and you feel light on your feet. The hole in your stockings only tears bigger with each thrust, you can hear the fabric of your pinstripe skirt rip further up the back; likewise, your cunt stretches to fit him to the hilt, the delicate skin threatening to tear as he splits you open. 

With a final rut, pounding hard into your womb, he bites down on the tendinous flesh of your neck and growls into your skin, chuffs out of his nose like a grizzly; “Fuck.”

You feel his cock twitch and surge as he pumps his come deep into you, it overflows - it dribbles down the cleft of your cunt, down your thighs, soaks into the sheer polyester of your stockings. Didn’t think, or didn’t bother to ask if you were on birth control - it doesn’t matter to him. Your cunt is as much his as your livelihood, and he’ll fill it with his come if he pleases. 

He leans his weight against you as he recharges, panting and spent, he rests his forehead against the back of your head. 

“Mh,” he huffs, “fuckin’ needed that.” 

You exhale all the air you had been holding in a breathy whine, cunt still aching and fluttering around the cock stuffed inside it, clit swollen and eager for any ounce of attention. He pays it none - only came to take, no time or interest in giving. 

He pulls his tie out of your mouth in one long rope, it drags a string of glistening saliva with it. 

“I’m-” you breathe furtively, mouth free, “I’m glad I could help.”

He pants out a laugh, deep and gravelly, places a drained kiss into your hair. 

“Help you did,” he assures you, amused and sated. “Next time I want to see all of you. Hear me?” 

“Next time?” You ask timidly. 

He pulls his cock out of you, and the spate of hot come he plugged inside comes out in a gush and soaks your already damp knickers. 

“Aye,” he grunts, tucking his semi-hard cock back into his boxers, insouciantly doing up his belt. “You’d like that, eh?”

You swallow a weary breath, push yourself from the wall and try to shimmy down what’s left of your skirt to conceal the mess he made underneath. 

“I - um,” you hesitate, embarrassed, you tuck a piece of hair that had been fucked astray behind your ear. “I would.” 

A devilish grin stretches in his lips, sharp teeth, as he loops his wet tie under his collar and does it up neatly - as neatly as he can, while it’s covered in the damp splotches of your spit. 

“‘Atta girl.” With a domineering hand he grabs your jaw, tugs your head upward and meets your lips with a single hard kiss. Smiles at you with praise. “Knew you were a slut.”

“I’m n-”

“Head home for the day, will you, love,” he orders rakishly, smoothing out his pale blue button down. “Important meeting. Can’t have any more distractions. Understood?” 

“Yes,” you comply with a simple nod. 

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Mr Price.”

“Tha’s my girl.”