#you could seriously ask him to do anything and I think he'd try it at least once

[artdcnaldson]

Ok so hear me out. I need you to write an au about virgin reader and art having sex for the first time while patrick watches (like the perv he is!) I imagine that it would probably take place during the hotel makeout scene or in art’s dorm room😄

all three of you are on the same freakuency..... sweet art's first time, he just needs some moral support, that's all!

And maybe you've been hooking up with Patrick on the side and he very selflessly asked if you'll pop Art's cherry. Not like you're in his lap with his dick in your hand, the words were mumbled clumsily against your lips.

"I just think..." You interrupt him with a clumsy kiss, which he pulls back from reluctantly. "It would be nice. He's going to college in the fall and— fuck, yeah, like that— it'd be nice to get him nice and deflowered before he's surrounded by all that pussy without any clue of what to do."

"Gross. Are you seriously trying to pimp me out?" You ask with a tiny grin, not entirely disgusted by anything more than Patrick’s casual misogyny. Your hand continues its slick glide up and down his cock. Patrick just grins at you, like that's answer enough. "You're an idiot."

Whatever. Idiot or not, you still fuck Patrick. Idiot or not, you agree to deflower Art Donaldson.

And Art's cute, in a boyish, sort of way. He's sweet, well intentioned. When you come onto him at the MRTA graduation, he's all wide-eyed and nervous. Aren't you seeing Patrick? Are you sure Patrick won't get mad?

"I’m not Patrick’s girlfriend. And besides, he wants me to," you tell him, and his fears melt away like cotton candy. Now that you've eased his mind, it's so easy to get him back to his dorm room. It’s so sweet, how he’s already hard in his jeans from a little kissing and the promise of something more. His eagerness just proves that Patrick was right— this really was the best gift he could give Art for graduation.

If it were up to you, it would’ve happened in your own dorm, but Patrick insisted that it had to happen in their dorm. So instead of soft sheets and tasteful decorations and scented candles, Art gets scratchy blankets and the smell of cigarette smoke and empty Gatorade bottles.

He swallows when he sees Patrick waiting on the bed. It all feels like a virginity-intervention. Still... Art sits on his side of the bed, knees touching Patrick's, and looks between the two of you, hackles up, backing into a defensive state.

"You're both making fun of me," he mutters, and there’s an angry twitch in his jaw, that thinly veiled restraint that you notice and file away for later. "This is a big joke, right? Patrick, you fucking asshole."

"I'm not making fun of you, Art," you assure, moving to sit in front of him, hands on his knees. It forces his pretty blue eyes to land firmly on you. "I just want to help. It'll be nice to get it done, won't it? Patrick and I can help you."

He huffs, glancing between the two of you again. "He's staying?" Patrick grins and nods. Of course he is. He'd been there for the start of Art's sexual awakening, no way he'd miss this too.

"Yeah, to give you some advice, baby," you say with a little smile. You move into his lap, mouthing at his jaw. He sighs a little, tilting his head to the side so your lips can move to suck on his pulse point. You smile against his throat, teeth grazing the sensitive spot there, and he whines. "That's it, just let us take care of you."

You just kiss him for a while— licking into his mouth, letting him taste and explore however he wants. His hands slip under your top, squeezing your tits while he moans into your mouth something incoherent about how soft, warm, perfect they are.

It's like he's drunk on it— painfully hard beneath you, whining at every little touch. When you peel off his pristine blue button up and run your thumbs over his nipples, he keens and mewls like it's the best thing he's ever felt. Fuck, maybe it is.

"You can't suck him off," Patrick says when you go to unbutton his pants. "He'll cum before he can even fuck you."

"Shut the fuck up, Patrick," Art mutters, shooting Patrick a glare that's about as deadly as he can manage with kiss swollen lips and mussed golden curls and ruddy cheeks. Like an angry little cherub. “I won’t… I’m not gonna cum if you touch me. I have gotten head before, and handjobs, and stuff.”

His hips buck mindlessly, seeking friction as you work the button and fly of his jeans. You smile as you rub over the bulge in the denim with your free hand, feeling the hard length of him. It makes him throw his head back and moan. “Yeah? But maybe Patrick’s right,” you murmur, lips trailing over his jaw. “Might be too much for you, baby. If we get you too worked up I don’t know if you’ll last when you’re inside of me.”

He whines. Really whines. It has to be one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard. “It’s not that I can’t, just… maybe I’m impatient.” You and Patrick share a look and grin. Sure. Impatient.

“I know you are,” you tell him, lips twitching as you fight an amused grin. “Just get me ready for you. You know how to do that?”

Patrick shakes his head behind Art, but you get the impression that maybe Art knows more than Patrick is willing to give him credit for. His hand slips under your dress, rubbing you through the cheap lace thong you’d bought at Wet Seal. Your eyes flutter shut as you gasp softly— his thumb rubs against your clit, but his eyes are locked on your every reaction.

“That’s good?” He murmurs softly. His index finger teases over your dripping entrance, barely concealed by hot pink lace. “It is, isn’t it? You’re so wet,” The words escape him mindlessly, like he’s accidentally verbalizing his thoughts. His cheeks go red and Patrick smiles like this is the proudest he’s ever been.

The tips of his fingers catch on the wet fabric and tug it to the side, just enough that his fingers can tease over your dripping pussy. His thumb maintains its pressure on your clit as he sinks his middle finger inside you to his second knuckle. A soft puff of breath like a gasp slips past his lips as he feels your walls squeezing around him.

“He’s really good,” you gasp out, looking at Patrick over Art’s shoulder as he stretches you on his fingers. Patrick’s big hand splays over his lap, squeezing at the hard length of his cock in his jeans as he watches. “Better than you, maybe.” Patrick laughs softly, rolling his eyes as he leans back against the headboard.

Art likes the praise, you know he does because his lips twitch into a cocky smirk as he sinks a second finger alongside the first, curling them until his fingertips press against a sensitive spot that makes stars dance across your vision. He knows what he’s doing, of course he does, he’s driven by the need to be praised and desired. The silent, unspoken competition in his mind against Patrick driving him to do anything he can to keep you pleased and happy.

Each pretty moan and gasp from your lips is lapped up like the sweetest honey. He nuzzles against your jaw as he fucks you with thick fingers, like your body is a pretty little piece of equipment he’s been trained to perfectly use. He moans against your skin when you come, cunt fluttering and squeezing around his fingers, like he’s feeling it every bit as much as you are.

You’ve forgotten to spare a glance at Patrick— it’s too easy to get lost in the ways that Art can play with your body. His jeans are tugged down just enough for him to free himself— and his hand works over the length of his cock as he pumps his fist in time with Art’s fingers. You squeeze Art’s arm once, twice, to get him to stop and he obeys, withdrawing fingers slick with your juices and licking them off like you’re his favorite meal.

“Are you sure he’s a virgin?” You murmur as you push Art back against the sheets, his pretty golden curls fanned out against his pillow like a halo.

Patrick nods, watching hungrily as you undress the pretty boy beneath you. His fancy dress shoes and socks, his jeans and button down, then his boxers. Until Art’s naked and flushed pink beneath you, drooling precum onto his tummy as his cock jerks with weak little pulses. When he looks at you, his pupils are so dilated they swallow up the pretty blue. He’s so pretty and debauched it makes you feel a little dizzy.

You slip off your dress, then your panties, and watch the bob of his Adam’s apple in his throat as he looks at you. “Are you okay with me on top?” You ask as you straddle his hips. You’re so close that he can feel the heat emanating from your body, from your cunt.

He swallows again, glancing over at Patrick like he’s asking for permission. “She’s good at it,” Patrick tells him. “You can just lay back and let her do all the work.“

You’d tell Patrick not to be a dick, but, well, he’s kind of right. You don’t expect Art to do anything— it’s his first time. But Patrick fucking loves laying back and making you work for it, like you’d have to earn the right to come. Art’s not that kind of guy— at least, not yet. But you can sense that smug confidence beneath the surface, lying dormant.

You reach down and take his cock into your hand, flushed red and slick with precum. You give an experimental pump in your hand and watch as more dribbles out. Needy boy. You sit up, lining him up with your entrance when he grabs your thigh. “Wait, don’t I need a condom?”

Patrick reaches into the bedside drawer, but you just shake your head. “It’s fine,” you tell him, teasing his tip through your folds, getting him even wetter. “I’m on the pill, and I know you’re clean. You can cum in me.”

As soon as the words slip past your lips, he squeezes his eyes shut like he’s in pain. You can feel his cock pulsing in your grasp and you have to bite back an amused grin. “Hold on, wait—“ he gasps out, gripping your hips like a vise, dimpling the plush skin there. “Don’t do it yet, just… give me a second. Just a second.”

It’s a pretty sight— his full lips parted as he pants softly, the little furrow in his brow where his eyes pinch shut. He takes one deep breath, then another, and nods. “Okay,” he pants. “Okay, I’m ready.���

You have to go slow so you don’t overwhelm him, sinking down inch by inch by inch. He groans, head tiling back against the pillows, the fine muscles of his neck taut. His hands grasp onto your hips, squeezing tight like it might ground him in reality, like it’s keeping him from slipping into a dizzy, mindless euphoria.

When you’re finally flush against him, he takes a shaky breath and opens his eyes to look at you. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he gasps. “And you feel— oh, god— you’re so warm, and wet, and you’re so fucking tight.”

Patrick moans at the sight of Art falling apart beneath you, hand squeezing around his cock as he pumps his length. The sight makes heat bloom in your tummy, and you feel yourself squeezing around Art’s cock. He whines, panting out hot puffs of breath.

It’s easy to forget how strong he is when he’s beneath you like this. But he grips your hips and pulls you forward, encouraging you to glide along his cock. “Please,” he says weakly, looking up at you with wide, pleading eyes. “I can take it.”

“He can take it,” Patrick echoes with a grin. There’s something about the thinly veiled amusement in his eyes that tells you he wants you to unmake Art entirely— to take the sweet, needy boy and make him something unrecognizable. Something primal, something pathetic. “C’mon, look at him. He’s a big boy, he can handle it.”

You begin to move, palms splayed against his chest as you rock your hips, nice and slow. He groans, head tipping back, eyes rolling so you can see the whites of them.

"You feel so good, Art," you gasp as you begin to move a little faster. He whines, eyes locked on the sight of your tits bouncing as you ride his cock. "So perfect."

Art wants more. He inches his hands a little higher, so his fingertips brush against your breasts, almost nervous to just grab. Patrick scoffs. "Just grab her tits, Art— Jesus— she likes it."

And he does. Big, rough hands gripping your tits, squeezing as you ride him. He bucks his hips up, seeking the tight warmth of your cunt as you move, just wanting to hold you down and stay buried there.

"Move faster," Patrick says. You can hear from the gravel in his voice, that tiny hint of whininess, that he's getting close. Of course Patrick wouldn't want to finish first and have to sit there watching Art have all the fun.

And, technically, Patrick is your boyfriend (or, at least, you think he is, and Art thinks he is, and Patrick... is a mystery), so you decide to indulge in his request.

"Wait—" Art pants, hands flying down to your hips as you ride him harder. "Oh, fuck— wait, wait— you're gonna— nghh, god—" He squeezes his eyes shut, chest heaving as you bounce on his cock. He squeezes, fingers dimpling the plush fat of your ass as he tries to slow you down, or maybe just hold on for some sense of grounding as you bring him closer and closer to a sweet release.

"C'mon, Art," you gasp, nails digging into his pale pecs. "C'mon, we want you to cum, baby."

He tries to hold out. He really does, but you want him to cum, you're asking for it. You and Patrick. He cries out, bucking up into your cunt as he finishes, pumping a warm load inside of you. He whines, eyes fluttering as his cock twitches, dribbling out his last drops of cum.

Patrick's chest is splattered with his own release, drying messily in his chest hair, Art Donaldson is beneath you— sated and deflowered. You glance over at Patrick while Art's eyes are still squeezed shut and make a face that says I didn't even cum. You owe me.

He just grins and nods, like it's a given that he'd get you off after. But honestly, you figure it's 50-50 that he'll follow through. Maybe you can just ask Art.

[misc-obeyme]

*taps mic* diavolo is 100% a switch *everyone claps*

I need this man to fuck me roughly until i can't feel my legs anymore and also i need to watch him cry and beg to let him cum while fingering him <3

NSFW MDNI

Well, anon, I agree with you. Personally I think all the characters are switches to some extent, but I have always felt like Diavolo just wants to make you happy. He's going to do whatever you ask him to do.

You want him to fuck you roughly? As soon as you give him permission, it's game over. He is more than prepared to give you what you want. Diavolo is used to being in control. It would be different with you of course, but he would easily step into the role of being dominant, making sure that things go the way he thinks they should. He is absolutely going to make your legs numb and there will be no question that he's the one in charge.

Of course if you were fingering him to the point where he was crying and begging, you can be sure he has at that point relinquished all control. I expect it's a nice break for him to just let you take over. Just imagine what it would feel like to have a big demon like that, the next Demon King, at your mercy. Begging you to let him cum. Whimpering your name. Unable to stay still because he's just too desperate.

Yeah, Diavolo could absolutely do either and it'd be insanely hot either way lol. At least, that's how I personally feel about it!

[illbegottenfaith]

kiss me better, love

as the two of you stumble into bed after a Valentine's dinner date, theo realises it's not fair how much he loves you (theo nott x reader)

a/n - valentines fic #2 !!!! thought of this idea in a class literally 5 hours ago and idk if its the sleep deprivation but this is sooo self-indulgent writing this had me giggling and kicking my feet frfr 😭 all I have to say is if this isnt me and my future partner I dont want him I send him BACK

tropes/warnings - physical touch as a love language, angry theo but also soft theo 🥰🥰 no (read: minimal) proof reading we die like men etc etc

word count - 1.5k

taglist - @hzdhrtss @justaproudperson @ebriton @thaliashifts @friedfreyfries @allie-sturns

The door shuts behind you both, plunging the room into near-darkness. You barely take a step before bumping into Theo, your knee knocking against his thigh, your hands flying to his shoulders as you stumble.

"Merlin,” he mutters, steadying you with a grip at your waist. “Can you - ”

“You're the one barging into me,” you shoot back, tucking a lock behind your ear as you tighten your grip on Theo’s shoulder, making him wince.

“Anyway, like I was saying, it hasn’t even been a week since Missy - ”

Theo exhales sharply, blindly reaching for the zipper at your back. “Is this something I really need to be hearing right now?” he asks somewhat waspishly.

“Yes.” You barely register his tone, still preoccupied. “So I walk into Charms in Tuesday, expecting to find Josh understandably distraught and/or in mourning. But who do I see him chatting up instead?"

"Hair."

You gather your hair up in one hand to hold it up and go right on talking. You barely notice Theo's largely ineffective attempts at pushing your sleeves off your shoulders.

"Pansy Parkinson! Pansy flipping Parkinson. What, does he think he's a free man now or something? Melissa's halfway across the world, she's not dead."

"Mhm."

You sigh exaggeratedly at his lackluster responses.

“Well? Don't you have to anything to add?"

“Yeah - hold still.” You This is just ridiculous, Theo was thinking. What kind of dress needed buttons and a zip?

You huff, switching your hair to your other hand. “Honestly, Theo, have you listened to a single thing I’ve been saying the past hour?”

Theo groans, still fumbling at your lower back. He had figured out the buttons were decorative, bless him, but your dress was on the more delicate side, and if he ripped it, he'd never hear the end of it. “Uh, yeah, that Abernathy guy...he’s two-timing Melissa?"

“He is not,” you say, peering over your shoulder to see what was taking Theo so long. Seriously, what was going on back there? It doesn't help, though, not when you can barely make him out in the dark. “not yet at least. He might. And if he's going to, well, isn't it better she finds out now rather than ten years down the road? Or am I an awful friend for thinking that?"

"Thinking what?" Theo asks distractedly.

"Willing my best friend's boyfriend into cheating on her."

Before he can formulate a response, your stubborn zipper finally decides to cooperate and moves down an inch - snagging at his finger. A sharp hiss cuts through the dark, followed by some emphatic, muttered swearing.

You pause.

“…what was that?”

Theo slips his injured finger out of his mouth briefly, his voice strained as he struggles to keep the pain out of his tone. “Nothing.”

You shift slightly, trying to catch his expression in the dark, but he’s suspiciously still now, his hands nowhere on you anymore.

“Theo.”

“I’m fine.”

Your brow furrows. Then, his suddenly subdued demeanour and oddly neutral tone clicks in your head.

"Did you hurt yourself?"

There’s an immediate rustle, followed by Theo’s very delayed attempt at nonchalance.

“…no.”

Oh, you could throttle him. “Was it the zip again?”

“You keep saying that like I do it intentionally - I never mean to-”

“And now you're trying to suck the pain away like a child?”

“Would you rather I bleed all over your dress?”

“I’d rather you watch what you’re doing so you don’t get maimed by a bloody zip in the first place!”

Theo exhales sharply, his frustration palpable. “I keep telling you - I don't-”

“You never mean to, but here we are.” You cross your arms. “Third time in two weeks, Theo. This is getting ridiculous. Should I hire a nurse for our dates? A medic? Do you need to start taking my clothes off under medical supervision? Is that what we've come to?"

Theo glares at you (or the shadowy figure he was mostly sure was you), trying to pull his attention away from the stinging pain. “Oh, don’t start - ”

“You don’t think before you do things.”

Theo groans. “I think plenty.”

“No, you rush plenty. Really, it’s a miracle you still have all your limbs -”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, here we go.”

“First, you burn yourself on my curling iron -”

“Okay, one, you shouldn't be leaving your things out like that.”

“Then you cut yourself opening a tin of biscuits -”

Theo tips his head back in exasperation. “You sh - you literally shoved it at me!”

“ - and now my zipper is out to get you?” You throw your hands up. “What are you telling me, Teddy? That every item I own has a personal vendetta against you?”

"Mattheo agrees with me, you know," you continue smugly, in a so-there kind of tone. "He told me about that time you nearly broke your neck falling down that flight of stairs on the way to Transfiguration, which wouldn't have happened if you weren't - "

"Rushing, I know." Theo steps back as if to escape. “Merlin, you are insufferable - ”

“And you are reckless.”

“I don't need you to lecture me.”

“You’d be fine if you just listened to m - show me your finger.”

A brief struggle ensues.

You lunge; he sidesteps. You fumble blindly for his hand; he twists out of reach.

“For fuck’s sake -”

“Stop being so difficult.”

“I’m not being difficult, you’re being a menace.”

“At least I don't get mauled by zippers.”

“I'm telling you, that zipper has it out for me."

“Well, maybe if you weren’t always in such a bloody rus - ”

“Enough with the rushing!”

“I can't help it if you never learn - ”

“I do learn,” he snaps, stepping back further - only for you to grab onto his wrist and pull.

There’s a shuffle, a scuffle as Theo stumbles back into the dresser with a thud.

“Oi - ”

“Oh, stop squirming, you big baby.”

“You stop grabbing- ”

“Theodore, you are injured. Act like it.”

“I am n- ”

“Then give me your hand.”

A long, heavy pause. Then -

“No.”

You groan, exasperated. “Merlin, you are the most - ”

“And you are relentless - ”

But at last, in an impressive show of determination, you manage to latch onto his wrist, wrenching his hand towards you before he can twist away again. Theo groans in frustration, but you’ve already found the wound—his fingertip, warm and damp against yours.

“Oh, for - ” You tighten your grip as he tries to pull away. “You are bleeding!”

Theo tenses, his entire body bristling. “It’s nothing.”

“On my zipper,” you say incredulously. “Again.”

He exhales sharply as if this is somehow your fault. “You don’t need to make a whole production of it - ”

“I told you to be careful - ”

“And I was - ”

“Clearly not enough!”

Theo groans, tipping his head back against the dresser. “I’m buying you a tear-away dress next Valentine’s.”

You bite back a smirk. “I’d like to see you figure that one out.”

He mutters something under his breath that you don’t quite catch, but you’re already bringing his hand up, brushing your lips over the wound.

He stills.

The fight, the irritation, the tension - all of it dissolves instantly under your touch.

You press another kiss there, softer this time. Through a sliver of moonlight cutting through the curtains, he sees your face - your impish expression, your eyes, alight with amusement and plain adoration. You watch his face too - his furrowed brows relaxing, the slight part of his lips, his sharp features softened by something indiscernible.

His eyes flick to yours.

And Merlin, it’s not fair, he thinks. It’s not fair how you can drive him to the brink of insanity one second and then look at him like that the next, like you could never get your fill. It's enough to make him think you're worth all the trouble you put him through. It's enough to make him want to slow down. Merlin knows the last thing he wants is to rush through his days with you.

“…better?” you murmur against his skin after a moment.

Theo exhales, rolling his eyes as though he isn’t already relenting. "It's a start," he says grudgingly.

Your smile widens as you bring his hand up again, pressing another kiss there, then another, then another.

Theo groans, tipping his head back again, his frustration dwindling with every sympathetic brush of your lips.

“You like this,” you tease.

“Shut up,” he mumbles, but his voice has softened, his body relaxing into yours.

You grin, pressing a kiss to his wrist. Then his palm.

Theo groans again, for reasons unrelated to his earlier irritation, his fingers curling at your waist.

You laugh softly. “Want me to kiss you better everywhere?”

Theo smiles weakly, pulling you closer. “That's the best idea you've had all night."

[luludeluluramblings]

Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Conner Kent - Spin-Off

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Spinoff based on this ask, and combing it with this AU. I was just having fun with this and kinda practicing. So apologies if it’s weird! Hope I wrote it decent at least!

A/N: Probably will follow this same idea with the main story.

Warnings: Potential baby trapping, is it voyeurism if it's just ease-dropping?, Fem!Reader, Yandere themes, obsession, stalking, a bit NSFW, pregnancy

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Could you blame him for not taking the opportunity when it was offered so readily to him?

Conner would easily admit he was weak for you. To anyone. Tim, Bruce, Lex, Clark. Anyone.

While none of them may not take him seriously when he says it, he meant it. Devotedly.

He still had to play his cards right after that night. The night he had heard you at a party in Gotham while he laid in his bed on the Kent farm. He was always listening for you. Your voice, your complaints, your tears, your breath, your heart beat. It was his favorite song, his favorite lullaby. Angels singing couldn’t compare to it.

And, when he heard your drunken giggle as some pathetic asshole flirted with you, he moved. He didn’t really think of taking you. He just wanted to keep the trash off you.

But, then his lips were on yours, and your legs were around his waist. Your hands in his hair, his hands on your thighs.

Conner memorized each slight hitch of your breath. Every single gasp, moan, and whimper the escaped you that night. Even the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoed in his head when he had been in the manor the next day. Listening to you sleep off your hangover and wonder aloud who the stranger you slept with had been.

Disappointment filled him when he realized you couldn't remember who he was, but he could hear your heart pick up when you thought about the faint memories you did still have of that night. That was enough for him. For now.

When he heard the faint sound of a heat beat slightly out of tempo with your own appear less then a month later, he had to stop himself from doing something stupid.

He'd at least let you make the decision when it came to that. Whatever it would be.

That didn't stop him from sneaking into your room in the manor while you slept, pressing his ear to your chest and holding his hand over the second heartbeat. Some nights he whisper. To you, and to them. Conner fights the temptation to peak. He doesn't want to take away you being the first to see them at the very least.

Of course, duty calls eventual and he has to take a space travel. Coming back to Earth weeks later, the first thing he searches for it that same sound in your chest. It soothes him to hear it. It gives him further delight to still hear the second one too. You must have found out about the second by now.

He can hardly hide his stupid grin and pay attention to anything going on around him.

Conner lets people think he's just excited to be home. Even he wears the exact same smile on his lips while visiting Tim.

His world crashes when he doesn't hear your heartbeat in the manor. You're not even in Gotham anymore. He can still hear your pulse, so his world doesn't burn. But, he sticks around long enough to realize you had left while he was gone and no one had even noticed.

It broke his heart for you, but now he didn't have to worry about the rest of them and could focus solely on you.

As soon as he left the manor with a casual wave, he was off like a hound dog on a trail. He nearly breaks the sound barrier as he tracks you down.

He isn't even mad when you scream in surprise at his sudden appearance. Doesn't even dodge the objects you start throwing at him before his arms are around your waist and his head is buried in your chest. All he can do is sigh in relief at your confusion.

"Conner… What the hell are you doing?"

"Shhhh, I missed you both."

"Missed? Both? The hell?" Futile you start trying to worm your way out of his grasp when it clicks in your head what exactly he's talking about.

"Hang on. Please. I didn't want to overwhelm you." He murmurs while nuzzling into your skin.

"Instead you let me freak out by myself like a dick. God, I've been throwing up, and filled with anxiety-"

There you go complaining, again. Muttering to yourself. But, this time it's about him, so he loves it even more. Letting you go on and on until he peppers your lips with apologies from his own and makes them stop. Gasp and moans taking their place. It's hard to tell which he likes more. Each sound you make has him falling further and further in love.

[dokyumms]

don't say "i do"

one year ago, your parents made you and wonwoo break up for the sake of an arranged marriage and he left your life with a simple click of the front door. one year later, you're finally getting married, and you're already regretting every decision you've ever made. the worst part? you bump into a familiar face right as you're about to walk down the aisle. ♫ now playing: "try again" - jaehyun, d.ear

pairing: ex!wonwoo x fem!reader

genre: fluff, comedy? idfk

word count: 2.1k

cw: arranged/forced marriage, cursing, original male character, mention of drinking/alcohol, running away, kissing

a/n: a request for my lovely moot @jjjjeonww! inspired by a reel she sent me, but then i lost it so i'm just going off of what i remember... if this looks rushed, it's probably bc it is 😭 (i've been working on this for days ok) also changed my formatting AGAIN but ANYWAYS enjoy kings

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

when you made the choice to send your ex an invitation to your wedding, you didn't think he'd even receive it.

it was an irrational decision, one you'd made after a few too many drinks with your friend.

"won't your parents be mad though?" she asked, watching as you finalized the decision, sloppily writing down his address on an envelope on your living room floor. you really did save an extra invitation just for this, but you were too scared to really do anything with it until that moment, too intoxicated to logically think this through.

"eh, they're already making me marry some rich asshole, the least they could do is just let me invite one person." you shrugged, tossing it somewhere on your "to mail" pile and leaning back against the base of the couch.

this was all really dumb, it really was. there was exactly one week before your wedding, yet you were drinking cheap soju in your living room at 4 am and making bad decisions. inviting your ex to your wedding was a pretty good example of one.

at least your friend not only has a higher alcohol tolerance than you, but is also better than you when it comes to wise decision making.

"i don't know, wonwoo most likely believes that you broke up with him because you fell in love with someone else. i wouldn't show up if i were him."

you groaned, she was right. when you refused to break up with wonwoo for the sake of some money your parents would gain from a marriage with some rich guy they knew, they took matters into their own hands. they had a whole professional letter writer (whatever job that was) analyze some essays you'd wrote for college and write a letter to wonwoo, saying that you two should break up because you lost feelings for him and found someone else.

the letter was planted in your kitchen for him to find, unknown to you. so when wonwoo confronted you about it, you had no idea what to say, but he took your speechlessness for an answer and left. you couldn't even blame him. the letter was written with your exact handwriting as well as your tone of voice, you would've thought you'd wrote it as well if you weren't, well, yourself.

that day, you lost the love of your life and learned that your parents were crazy lunatics.

"well, this might not even be his address anyway, mingyu probably sent me the address of a dumpsite."

"you seriously asked his best friend??"

"who else was i supposed to ask?"

"yeah, there's no way that's his address then. he also must think you dumped wonwoo, remember?"

"well, i rented him a camper van in france for a week and basically paid for that whole trip, so he sent me that."

"are you kidding... rich people are so stupid. so stupid!" and the night ends with laughter, the letter long forgotten.

but before you know it, it's your wedding day, or what you've been calling it: doomsday.

you didn't even write a vow because who even was this guy? exactly. you hardly even knew him, let alone enough to write a whole vow for him. thinking about kissing him was just making you gag.

whatever, at least you look pretty. the one good thing to come out of this wedding might just be your dress, but it's not like the one guy you actually want to marry will see it, so now you're just sad again.

your heels click and clack as you make your way toward the doors leading to your demise. it's okay, just close your eyes and pretend he’s wonwoo. what was his name anyway? you're pretty sure that it was jaewon or something- or maybe jaehyun?

well, you don't have time to contemplate the groom's name anymore, because you're literally right in front of the doors now. the typical wedding music is playing, awaiting your arrival. you take a deep breath. your dad wasn't even considerate enough to actually walk you down the aisle, so much for being so eager for you to get married.

okay, you actually have to go now, but you start to second guess yourself. after this, you might just be bound to some barely known rich guy for life. the exit door is so close, why don't you just run away?

you turn to look at your hopeless escape, but instead of a door you see... wonwoo? a very good looking wonwoo at that.

he's standing kind of awkwardly, looking at you as if he's in some sort of daze. he's dressed in a suit and wearing a new pair of glasses. other than that, he looks just about the same as you remember, and for some reason, you're relieved.

when he notices you looking at him, he coughs, shaking his head.

"sorry, i was looking for the restroom,"

you almost want to tease him for the lame excuse, but you’re probably not in the place to do so. looking around, you try to locate a restroom, but to no avail. you’re honestly still in shock that he’s even here.

“um, i don’t really know my way around here either, sorry…”

he chuckles lightly, “it’s okay, no worries, y/n.” he says, adjusting his glasses before speaking again.

“you look beautiful, by the way.”

it’s barely above a whisper, a voice he only used when you’re both in bed and he’s feeling particularly flirty, peppering your face with kisses and giving shy compliments against your skin.

you begin to forget that you’re not actually getting married to wonwoo, but reality hits when you take into account the situation you’re in. you’re talking to your ex right before you’re supposed to get married to another man.

he seems to notice your dilemma, rubbing the back of his neck. “you should probably go in soon, you know? can’t have them waiting on their bride forever.”

you wait for a minute to answer, “…but what if i don’t want to?”

wonwoo furrows his eyebrows, confused. “what are you saying?” you can barely hear him over the pipe organ that begins to replay the wedding song; you’re running out of time.

is this really worth it? losing the love of your life for some cash? no, it's not, and you're definitely not missing the one chance you have at this moment.

it's not like your family really needs it anyway, you think.

“fuck it,” you mutter, kicking off your heels and taking a hold of his wrist.

he watches you, even more bewildered than before. “y/n, what are you doing-“ and you’re making a sprint toward the exit with him in hand. you’re well aware that he has more than enough physical strength to hold you back, but he doesn’t, just yelping after you as he tries not to trip.

this was nowhere near what you'd thought escaping a wedding would be like. when you day-dreamt about it, it'd played out as something cringey, like wonwoo busting through the door right before you say "i do" or something. right now, you absolutely have no idea what you’re doing, dragging wonwoo out of the wedding venue with no plan whatsoever.

"y/n! what about your wedding?" he asks as you both step out of the emergency fire exit (yes, you seriously used the fire exit as an escape. that's what it's for... right?). you don't answer his question, waiting till you're both a safe distance away from the venue.

you learn quickly that taking off your shoes was the best and worst decision of your life. you know you would've tripped if you tried to run in heels, but the feelings of gravel against the bottom of your feet might just be worse than that.

suddenly, wonwoo abruptly stops, making you turn around. you're both still in the middle of the parking lot, not nearly as far away as you would like to be, but you stop anyway.

"if you really want to run away from your wedding for some reason, can we at least take my car?" he offers, catching his breath while pulling out a pair of car keys from his pocket. in the distance, you hear someone or two call out your name.

"yeah, that's probably a good idea."

so now you two are in wonwoo's car, driving to what seems to be his place. his car hasn't changed in the last year, the familiar scent of his air freshener gives you some sense of nostalgia. the drive feels like old times, like when wonwoo would drive you to your university or when he'd take you out to the museum in another city, soft music playing as you two sit in comfortable silence.

but unfortunately for you, there's not exactly time to reminisce because you have a lot of explaining to do.

"so, why'd you back out of the wedding? wasn't that the guy you, um... left for?" he asks. you can tell he's trying to be cool about it, but the way his grip on the wheel tightens just a bit gives him away.

you grimace. yeah, it wasn’t your fault, but you still feel a pang of guilt surge through you at the mention of of the break up. slowly, you begin to tell him everything: the letter, your parents, all of it.

he still looks skeptical, but you see the tension in his shoulders fade as you talk. before long, you both arrive at his place.

"wait for a moment," he says, getting out of the car. you think he's going to get something, but he simply walks to the other side of the car and opens your door.

"thanks..?" you tell him, sort of stunned at his courtesy. he just smiles at you, standing there for another moment. "well, i was going to carry you, if that's okay."

you swear you feel your eyeballs bulge out of your eyesockets as you stare at him like he just asked you to do a backflip. he laughs softly at your expression. "your feet- they hurt, don't they?" he asks, gesturing to your feet that are littered with little specks of red and debris from the pavement you ran on earlier.

"it doesn't really hurt that much won-" you try, getting up from the seat, but wonwoo gently pushes you back. "just let me, shouldn't i take care of my bride?" he argues, scooping you up with ease and kicking the car door shut with his foot.

you squirm in his grip as he carries you through the entrance of his place, only letting you go once he seats you on the couch. like his car, his apartment looks relatively the same as you remember, and it honestly still feels like your second home.

"do you have anything on you? like your phone?" he asks, sitting down beside you. you shake your head, all of your belongings are still at the venue because as stated before, you did not think this through. it suddenly dawns on you that you might be screwed. "it's okay, at least no one's going to barge in here." he laughs, trying to lighten the mood a little, but he sees that it doesn't do much.

"hey, look at me," he urges, tilting your jaw so you're making eye contact with him. "i promise you, it's going to be fine. we'll work this out," he assures you.

"i just have one question," he starts again, "do you still love me?"

you swallow, hard because yes, of course you still love him, but would he even forgive you for leaving him? it wasn't exactly your fault, but you feel guilty about it anyway.

he waits patiently for your answer, keeping the eye contact between you two as you respond.

“well… yes?” you say hesitantly, scared of his reaction. he wouldn't throw you out of the house or something, he's definitely not the type to, but it's still nerve-wracking: confessing your feelings to him all over again.

he smiles softly at your answer, leaning in a little. "so you wouldn't mind if i did this, right?" despite having some clue on what he's about to do, you raise an eyebrow before he gently presses his lips against yours.

your eyes close at the familiar contact, god, you missed this. it’s short and sweet, wonwoo breaks the kiss before you become too engrossed in his lips.

“well? don’t leave me hanging,” you pout. he thinks for a moment, trying to figure what you’re talking about before he makes a noise of realization.

“i love you too, was the kiss not enough to say that?”

you smile at him; he smiles back. yes, you just ran away from your wedding and people are probably looking all over the place for you, but who cares? certainly not you.

“let’s get married,” he suddenly decides, “we’re already dressed for the occasion anyway. you think the venue is still open?” you know he’s probably joking, but you look at him and seriously consider his suggestion.

“wait… maybe it is. let’s go check!” you bounce off the couch, dragging wonwoo with you. “wait, y/n, you’re not wearing any shoes!” he shouts after you.

—

“you really forgot my address? it’s been the same for years, y/n.”

“what? so i spent all that money on mingyu for no reason?”

“ah, so that’s the emergency fund he used to go to france.”

[devotedsweetheart]

・❥ CALEBS FAVORITE KINKS !!!

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ rundown :: a list of what i think are calebs top 5 kinks !

WARNINGS :: NSFW! 18+, incest , oral sex , bondage , collaring , orgasm denial , porn w/ no plot

a/n :: these are not in order !! :)

1. INCEST :: now, this might seem a little bit overboard , but to caleb ? it's nothing new . after knowing you for so long ... growing up together , living in the same house , sharing everything with each other .. it's like a normal thing to him. so normal to the point where he'll call you his 'sissy' during different times of day . " sissy , could you grab my water from the table for me ? thank you, love . " it just rolls of the tongue !! especially during your alone time, too . it slips out more than you or him could count . when he first moaned it he never even payed attention to it , thinking of it as nothing . it was only when you gave him a look that he couldn't quite read did he notice what he accidentally said . "o-oh my god pips im.. im so sorry. that was fucking weird and i shouldnt have said it... im a damn pervert." shame flooded his face ... but he knew it would happen again , whether he could control it or not .

2. BONDAGE :: listen , he doesnt want to be tied up because hes horny , it's because he trusts you so much ... and that kind of turns him on . the fact he can willingly submit to you and trust you without having to worry about what you're doing . although he likes to be restrained , he'd never do it to you .. only if you asked him . he'd do anything you asked for (within reason) , whether thats strapping you to the bed with ropes , chains , a belt (his) , cuffs .. whatever you please . all he's worried about is them scuffing up those pretty wrists of yours . "nono wait baby .. your skin, it's red . do you need me to stop ? i'll stop right now for you , you look like you're in pain . let me kiss it better pips .." is what he'd say on any other occasion .. but the times when you didnt look so in pain , thats when his freak comes out . "you cant run away silly .. stop trying to run from me . i wont allow it , and neither will those restraints you begged me to use on you . i actually quite like the way you look right now... all tied up and cute for me ."

3. COLLARING :: i feel like this is the most canon you could ever get . he'd seriously be into making you wear a collar for him , wanting everyone to know who you belong to & to not try with his girl ! also , he'd want one with a bell .. just so you couldnt escape without being noisy ;) . buuuut he's up for wearing one for you as well , he also wants to let people know who he belongs to . i think he'd get one for the both of you regardless of you wanting one or not , his need to get people off of you is too strong, as he is alarmingly obsessed with you . the collar isn't just used as man repellent , it turns him on so fucking much . knowing that you're practically his property gets his dick hard to the point of ache , he'd definitely make you wear it during sex . mumbling incoherent sentences about how much he loves the way it looks on your gorgeous neck .. how he never wants you to take it off . "as long as you're here, with me, you aren't touching it . fuck , you're so good for me .."

4. ORGASM DENIAL :: hear me out . it's late at night and he notices your location isnt on ... he texts and calls you multiple times without an answer . eventually , he tracks you down and confronts you about going out without his knowledge / consent . after he's done scolding you , that night , he'd drag you into his car as soon as he could & not let you cum . he would adore hearing you beg for him , solely because it feeds into his desire for you to need him as much as he does you . he wouldnt be too fond if you ended up doing it to him ... maybe as revenge or something , but nonetheless , he would be in pieces . pleading , begging , writhing , all of the above just to feel your perfect cunt squeeze around him one more time so he can cum . he would never put his hands on you , but he would just get so desperate ... he might have to move you himself !! at that point , all he would manage were whimpers and prayers . "ohmygod pips please .. im sorry! okay! im sorry .. i can't take this anymore baby , i need to cum . i need it so fucking bad ."

5. FACE SITTING :: caleb takes "the best way to die is by thigh" way too seriously . he would happily pass away while in between your thighs ... he loves eating you out so much it's kind of concerning . the moment his lips are on your core hes not letting up until you've cum over and over again on his face .. hes addicted to the taste of you . his deep obsession with your juices is so bad that he has to have you suffocating him , almost breaking his nose , using his face as a toy ... he can't get enough . i think this roots from the fact that he jerks off to your voice all the time & that makes him so attached to all your moans . especially when you call out his name while you cum .. he thinks about those moments way too often .

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ in conclusion :: caleb would really do whatever you asked , aka hes into anything , but these are the ones he really enjoys . <3

[auroralwriting]

spencer smut perhaps? he's all shy but the second your lips touch his he snaps?

guilty as sin

spencer reid x fem!bau!reader (18+)

you think spencer's too shy to do anything, until he gets a taste of you

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut, dirty talk, p-in-v, wrap it before you tap it, sort of dom!spencer, multiple orgasms, spencer is whipped, season seven spencer is implied, soft and fluffy but also a smidgen kinky, spencer’s a gentleman, he’s still a nerd, begging, orgasm denial, he’s also a tease, light praise, it’s smut you get the gist

"Oh, come on? You're seriously going to sit there and tell me nothing happened with Lila Archer?" Emily laughed as she sipped on her beer.

It was a chilly autumn night. Your team had just returned home from a case a few hours prior. You were still dressed in your work clothes, like the rest of our colleagues. Somehow, you were convinced to go to the bar before it got too late into the evening. A sort of celebration that you all had caught the killer so quick with only two casualties. That was rare. Emily had even convinced Hotch to join you all. Since meeting Beth, he'd began to grow out of his shell. It was nice to see him happy again.

The liquor in all of your systems was enough to allow the silly conversations to flow with ease. Seeing as Emily and you had not been on the team when the Lila Archer stalking case was worked on, you had a fair amount of questions.

"You were with Lila Archer, alone, for hours on end," Emily took a sip of her drink as she continued her mini-rant. "and you didn't bang her?"

Derek emitted a slight chuckle, "Well, she did make out with him in the pool."

"The pool? Spence, you dog!" You gasped, quickly following it up with a laugh.

Deep down, this conversation bothered you. Maybe it was due to the fact that you had the biggest crush on Spencer. Or it could have been the way JJ was staring at you, no doubt profiling you. She was the only one who knew of your feelings for the genius. Of course, she was nothing but comforting and supportive. JJ was trying to catch a read on if she should end this conversation before it really got to you.

"I- She initiated it," Spencer weakly defended. "I just, well, kissed her back." The whole table erupted in oohs and laughs.

You kept your longings locked from the man. Kept in faded color, lowercase, locked away inside some secret vault you kept in your heart. It was better this way.

"You don't have it in you to do anything more, my man." Derek slapped Spencer's back. His words, meant to be supportive, just plain were not. "A man of honor, truth, justice, pat-"

"All right, I think we've all had enough to drink tonight." Hotch cut off Derek's drunken ramble. "Let's all make sure to call cabs home."

You grabbed your belongings, just a jacket, purse, and scarf, and stood up along with the rest of your friends. Everyone bid each other goodnight, small hugs passed along. Reaching in your purse, you went to grab the twenty you'd left, just in case. Your purse, however, was seemingly empty, besides a lipstick and your wallet. "Oh, shit." You muttered, having no way to pay for a ride home.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Spencer asked, hearing your call of distress.

Shaking your head, you pursed your lips. "I don't have any cash to get home."

Spencer was quick to reply, "Oh, well why don't you just ride with me? Riding with another person is thirty to fifty percent more safe than being alone, especially while intoxicated. Uh, you can just spend the night, I know you live further away and I'm sure you're tired."

"Thanks, Spence. I'll pay you back," You offered as the two of you walked outside. You felt a chill run up your spine due to the cold, September air.

"It's no problem." Spencer nodded, reaching over to slightly tighten your scarf. The touch of his fingertips on your neck was enough to warm you up completely.

Penelope gave you one last squeeze as you hopped inside the cab with Spencer. The ride would only be fifteen minutes away from his apartment, which wasn't bad.

You stared out the window, watching as it fogged. You dragged your finger over the condensation, drawing yourself a little picture to keep occupied. Your eyes cast up on their own, deciding to focus on the reflection in the window. You were sure glad they did. Spencer was staring at you, unaware that you could see him. His stare sent another round of shivers down your spine.

Always the gentleman, Spencer helped you out of the car once you'd arrived to his apartment. It hit you that you'd actually never been to Spencer's apartment before. You wondered if it looked anything like you'd imagined.

And it was. Exactly as you'd imagined, actually. Dim, warm lights that gave a cozy feeling. He had a brown, leather couch with a green blanket over the top. Books were scattered all over the apartment, but it was done neatly. They were probably organized in a way that would only make sense to Spencer.

"Sorry it's such a mess," Spencer apologized, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's not at all," You replied. "I guess you've never seen my place."

Spencer hummed, "I haven't."

Being a good host, Spencer offered to make you some tea. You sat at his island while he poured some water in a kettle to heat up.

"So, you know you can be honest with me, right?" You decided to awkwardly start a conversation. The silence was just not doing it for you.

"Of course I know that," Spencer nodded. His back was turned to you as he prepped your mugs.

You shook off your nerves, "Did you actually not sleep with Lila Archer?"

Spencer turned around at your words. "I didn't sleep with Lila Archer." He confirmed. "If I did, you know Morgan wouldn't stop talking about it for the rest of our lives."

A small chuckle came from you. "He really wouldn't." You mused.

"Plus, she's, uh, not my type." Spencer boldly continued after a pause of silence.

"What is your type?" You asked curiously, heart increasing, a deep hope he said you were his type.

"I don't know." Spencer mumbled.

The kettle began to whistle, you could see Spencer's body physically relax at this. A distraction. He passed you the tea which you graciously thanked him for. The two of you sat in a comforting silence as you drank.

Spencer looked so gorgeous in this way. His hair was a bit disheveled, untamed from the long flight. His eyes held no signs of tiredness. Your case was in California. You'd left this morning. He must've also slept the whole way home. His brown locks mesmerized you. Oh, how you wanted to curl your fingers in them. Not to mention the ghost of stubble on his face. You imagined tracing your fingers over it softly, wishing to feel him shiver under your touch.

Maybe it was the remaining alcohol still in your system, or maybe pining after him wasn't doing it anymore. You don't know what came over you when you leaned forward, your nose nearly touching his.

Spencer didn't move, you didn't move. It was an odd standoff. "Spence," You softly mumbled his name. You could see his eyes staring down- oh. At your lips. Somehow, you knew he wouldn't do it You watched the way his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed a gulp of nerves.

It was like he couldn't speak. But you knew it the moment you locked eyes again. You'd know that look anywhere; desperation. It was probably gleaming in your eyes, too. You could definitely feel it.

A sudden wave of confidence crashed over you and you felt yourself pushing your lips against Spencer’s. It took him maybe a full second to process what was happening. His large hands came to grab your face, pressing you closer to him. The kiss felt like nothing you’d expected of Spencer. He took control over the situation quickly. He pushed against you hard, slipping his tongue between your slightly parted lips. It was messy, rough, yet filled with such genuine passion it was dizzying.

“Spence,” You pulled back breathlessly. His eyes were filled with something new, something more lustful.

He softly shushed you, hands still on your face, pulling you back in. It was slightly teeth-clashing, hot. “I’ve been waiting for this,” Spencer muttered between kisses, his voice a near whine. “Just couldn’t make the first move.”

Spencer pulled back, rushing around the counter to where you sat. He pushed apart your legs to stand in between them. His fingers grabbed your chin, thumb on it and his first finger under your chin. He gently forced your head to look up to him. His cheeks were flushed, and you assumed yours were a near identical reflection.

“Tell me what you want,” Spencer whispered. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give you anything, everything.”

“You, I just want you.”

That’s all it took for Spencer to kiss you again. your hands went around his neck to pull off his tie, your hands then moving to unbutton his dress shirt. His worked just as quickly to undo yours.

“Not here,” Spencer muttered, eyes falling to your half-bare chest. “My room’s down the hall.”

With Spencer’s hand in your own, you quickly ran to his bedroom, a soft giggle escaping your lips and how cliché this all felt. Spencer couldn’t help but smile at your amusement. You leapt onto his bed, landing on your knees as you wrapped your arms around his neck, playing with the hair that ended on the back of his head.

“Hi, boy genius.” You smiled, voice soft and warm. It reminded Spencer of a hot vanilla latte, or maybe something like a cinnamon roll. Sweet, warm, delicious.

“Hi, pretty girl.” Spencer replied, thumb rubbing sweetly over your cheek.

You both stared into each others eyes for a moment, taking in the delicacy of the intimate moment. Spencer slowly pushed his lips onto yours. It was the most gentle kiss of the evening, and it reminded you that Spencer wasn’t doing this because he felt like it. No, you were his type. Not Lila, you.

Spencer and you slowly discarded the rest of your clothing, allowing Spencer to slowly drag his fingers over your bare skin, admiring your beauty. “You’re almost as beautiful as Aphrodite,” he muttered. “I would say prettier, but the ancient Greek believed it would curse whomever was called more beautiful because Aphrodite wanted to remain the most beautiful.”

Even during moments like this, you loved Spencer’s rambles. Slowly, Spencer began to kiss all around your jaw, moving down your neck and to your chest. Your hands found his hair as you arched into him. He spent some time licking and sucking on your chest, loving the way you sounded for him, the way you pulled on his hair. He loved the smell of your skin, how soft it felt beneath his lips and tongue.

“Spencer,” you whined, pulling harder on his hair.

The man looked up to you, eyes gleaming as his mouth popped off you with a small pop. “Yeah, baby?”

“I need more,” you replied.

“Like what?” Spencer teased, slowly dragging his finger down your stomach. “Need more here?” He asked, playfully biting at your chest. “Or… here?” Spencer’s fingers trailed over your thigh, slowly moving from the inside to the out.

You groaned, “Oh, there! Please, there!”

Spencer also groaned in reply, “Didn’t take you as a begger,” he muttered. “but I love it.”

Slowly, Spencer moved his finger to your aching core. It slowly ran through your folds, causing you to moan loudly. “Spence,”

“Is this all for me?” Spencer cockily asked, referring to your wetness. You nodded quickly, pulling him down to kiss you once more. As he kissed you, he slid a finger inside, just to the first knuckle to gather some of your slick. He brought it back out and slowly began to circle your clit with it. Pulling back from the kiss, you became a mess of moans, whines, and breathy sounds. Spencer slowly kissed up and down your neck as he played with your sensitive bundle of nerves. “This enough for you, baby?”

“Inside,” you stumble out. “Please, inside me.”

Spencer couldn’t help but give you exactly what you wanted. How could he when you begged so nicely for him? He brought that same finger back inside, plunging it until it reached his final knuckle. Slowly, he began to pump it in and out of you, allowing you grace to adjust to the new object inside you.

“How’s that?” Spencer asked.

“Good, so good,” You babbled.

His finger multiplied and became two. They pumped in and out, adding slight curls to his fingers every now and again. His thumb went back to your clit, slowly rubbing it for added pleasure. “This what you wanted, sweet girl? This what you’ve imagined me doing to you?”

“Yes, yes!” You moaned.

Spencer smiled, “I’m not going to lie, I’ve imagined this moment for the last year.” In any other occasion, you would’ve became bashful at the declaration, but you were already too far gone with the alcohol and pleasure in your system.

It was then Spencer’s fingers hit your soft spot, causing your back to arch. “Oh, baby!” You cried out, grabbing onto the man above you and wrapping your legs around his waist to feel him deeper.

“There?” He asked.

“Oh, yes! There!” You answered quickly.

Spencer worked his magic, adding another finger as you stretched for him. It didn’t take long for your first orgasm to hit you like a sea of stars. Spencer softly shushed you, helping you relax.

“You okay?” Spencer smoothed your hair as he looked at you carefully.

You nodded, “Please, Spence. I want you.”

Spencer wasted no time lining himself up with you, allowing some of your slick to gather on his hard-on. He pushed in, causing you both to groan in unison.

“Oh my god,” he breathlessly said. “You’re so tight, oh my god. Baby, you feel so good.” His voice raised, slightly higher than normal as he resisted the urge to move until you said so.

“Move, move, please,” You told him. He wasted no time pushing his hips forward and backward, pulling your legs up around his hips once more.

He fit you so good, so right. Everything in that moment felt perfect, like he was made for you. You were made for him. It took Spencer less than a minute to be snapping his hips in record time. You felt like your eyes were going to roll back at the pleasure.

Spencer grabbed your chin the way he did earlier, “Look at me, baby. Wanna see your pretty eyes.”

Still reeling from your last orgasm, it took you no time to feel your climax approaching once more. “Spence, I need to come,”

“Not yet,” He groaned. “‘M almost there, baby. Hold on,” You felt a loud whine emit from your throat. The sound of it made Spencer’s dick throb, and you felt it. “Doing so good for me, honey. Oh, god, I’m almost there. So good.”

You were on the brink of orgasm. You weren’t sure if you could hold it any longer. “Spencer!”

“Where?” He asked.

“In, oh my god,” You practically were yelling at this point.

“Let go, baby,” Spencer’s words were all you needed to finally reach that sweet, sweet release again. You felt him spill inside you, the warmth making your orgasm feel even better. Spencer’s arms slowly gave out above you, and he slowly fell onto your chest. He pressed his lips to your hair, a sweet gesture.

The two of you laid there, catching your breath. You played with Spencer’s curls as he gently rubbed your cheek with his thumb. “I kind of have a crush on you,” You admitted jokingly, knowing he knew.

“Yeah?” He chuckled. “I do too.” He sat up, pulling out of you. You wished he didn’t; it felt so empty. “You gotta go pee, right?”

“Yeah,” You groaned lazily, slowly sitting up. “Hey, you’re gonna take me on a date after this, right?”

Spencer nodded with a smile, “I already have it planned. Now, go use the bathroom so we can fall asleep together.”

You mock saluted at him, “Yes, sir. I’ll be right back.”

Who knew your night out would lead to the best night of your life?

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

NOT YOUR BRO

drew starkey x fem!reader

SUMMARY: y/n decides to use some ‘unusual’ nicknames for her boyfriend, drew, except it drives him insane.

based on this ask !! you come up with the CUTEST requests @xoxosblogsblog so thank you for this :) i hope it’s what you wanted, i tried to make it more of a one-shot than a drabble so i hope it’s okay <3

WARNINGS: just some fluffy goodness, one f bomb, and i believe that’s it !! (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

THIRD PERSON +

The boutique smelled faintly of lavender and citrus, its soft jazz playlist creating a relaxed atmosphere as Y/N and the girls browsed racks of clothes. They had spent the morning shopping, arms now laden with glossy bags from Charleston's trendiest stores. Their conversation had drifted from outfit critiques to relationships as they admired a collection of flowy dresses near the dressing rooms.

"I don't know, it's just hard finding someone who actually gets me," Madelyn said with a shrug, running her fingers over the fabric. "You know, someone who doesn't freak out about my schedule."

"You'll find your person," Carlacia assured her. "Trust me, the right guy won't care how busy you are—he'll hype you up for it."

"True," Y/N chimed in. "Drew's my biggest cheerleader. Sometimes it's annoying how supportive he is."

The group laughed, and Madelyn smiled wistfully. "What do you even call Drew? Do you guys do the whole nickname thing?"

"Oh, for sure," Y/N replied, chuckling. "It's usually just 'babe,' but sometimes I call him 'Drewseph' when I'm feeling extra ridiculous."

"Drewseph?" Carlacia snorted, nearly doubling over. "That's incredible."

"I know, right?" Y/N grinned. "But seriously, I think he'd have a heart attack if I called him anything else. He's so used to those two."

Madelyn raised an eyebrow. "Like what? What would actually make him freak out?"

"I don't know..." Y/N tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Probably something like 'dude' or 'bro.' He'd be so confused."

"Oh my God, you have to try it!" Carlacia said, her eyes lighting up with mischief.

"What?" Y/N laughed, glancing between her friends.

"You should totally call him 'buddy,' 'pal,' or 'dude' tonight—just to see what he does," Carlacia suggested, practically bouncing on her heels.

"I don't know..." Y/N hesitated, though her grin betrayed her intrigue.

Madelyn joined in, nudging Y/N with her elbow. "Come on, it'd be hilarious. You know he'd lose his mind in the funniest way."

"I feel like he'd just be super offended," Y/N admitted, laughing.

"Exactly!" Carlacia said. "That's the point! He'll be all pouty and confused, and we'll all die laughing."

"Okay, but you guys better back me up if he gets mad," Y/N warned, smirking.

"Oh, we will," Madelyn promised, crossing her heart.

"Fine, I'll do it," Y/N said, shaking her head with a grin. "But you owe me if this backfires."

"Deal," Carlacia said, holding out her pinky for Y/N to shake.

As the group headed to the checkout counter, their laughter echoed through the boutique. Y/N could already picture Drew's reaction, and she had to admit—it was going to be fun.

—

The warm glow of sunset filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Drew and Y/N's spacious Charleston apartment. It was the perfect evening to host the Outer Banks cast for dinner and a game night.

The girls entered the apartment, greeted by the savory aroma of roasted chicken, mac and cheese, and freshly baked rolls. Drew met Y/N at the door, leaning down to kiss her. "How was your day, babe?" he asked, his voice soft and warm.

"Perfect," Y/N replied, grinning. "How about you? Are you a certified chef now?"

"Close," he teased, sliding an arm around her waist. "Go wash up; dinner's almost ready."

The girls exchanged knowing glances behind Drew's back, suppressing their giggles. Carlacia nudged Y/N with a wink. "You better deliver tonight," she whispered.

"Oh, I will," Y/N murmured, smirking.

At the long dining table, everyone was buzzing with conversation as Austin laid down the last plate. Drew, seated next to Y/N, had one arm draped casually across the back of her chair. She eyed the mac and cheese near him and decided it was time to set the plan in motion.

"Hey, can you pass the mac and cheese, please, buddy?" Y/N asked, her voice casual.

Drew froze mid-conversation, his head snapping toward her. His brows furrowed in confusion as he glanced at the plate, then back at her. "Uh, sure... babe," he said, emphasizing the word as he slid the dish toward her.

"Thanks, dude," Y/N replied nonchalantly, biting back a grin.

Across the table, Carlacia snorted into her drink, and Madelyn covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. Drew's jaw dropped slightly as he turned to her again, a mixture of offense and bewilderment crossing his face.

"Dude?" he repeated under his breath, as if the word left a bad taste.

"Hmm?" Y/N feigned innocence, loading her plate with mac and cheese.

Shaking his head, Drew tried to let it go, but the girls' muffled laughter didn't escape him. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he didn't press further—yet.

The dinner continued with more subtle jabs from Y/N. "Hey, pal, can you pass the salt?" she asked later, earning another baffled look from Drew. When he handed it to her, she responded with a cheerful "Thanks, champ!"

By the time they cleared the table and set up for games, Drew was visibly on edge, his lips pursed as he watched Y/N interact with the group.

They were midway through a heated round of charades when Y/N delivered the final blow. "Your turn, bro!" she called to Drew, grinning widely.

That did it. Drew stopped in his tracks, tossing the game card onto the coffee table. "It's babe! Not 'dude,' not 'buddy,' and CERTAINLY not bro!" he exclaimed, his voice rising an octave in exasperation. His hands flew up in frustration, and he turned to Y/N with wide eyes. "What did I do? Are you mad at me? Why are you calling me that?"

Y/N couldn't hold it in any longer. She burst into laughter, doubling over as tears welled in her eyes. Carlacia and Madelyn followed suit, collapsing against each other in hysterics.

Drew's jaw dropped further. "This—this was a joke?" he asked, his voice wavering between relief and indignation.

Y/N wiped her eyes, reaching for him. "Yes, babe, it was a joke. The girls dared me to do it to see how you'd react."

Drew folded his arms, pouting dramatically. "That's mean. You nearly gave me a heart attack," he muttered.

"Aww, come on," Y/N cooed, scooting closer to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing kisses to his cheek. "You know I love you, babe."

Drew let out a dramatic sigh but couldn't hide the smile creeping onto his face. "You're lucky I'm obsessed with you."

"Lucky?" Y/N teased, kissing him again. "You're the lucky one, Drewseph."

The guys, still confused about what had just transpired, looked at each other. "Are we supposed to get it?" Austin whispered to Chase.

"No clue," Chase replied, shaking his head.

The girls' laughter echoed through the apartment as Drew finally cracked, pulling Y/N closer and resting his forehead against hers. "You owe me," he murmured.

"Anything you want, babe," Y/N whispered back, her grin mischievous. "But admit it—you love me even when I call you dude."

Drew groaned, shaking his head. "Don't push it."

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was so sweet and silly !! going to get through to some angst requests soon, i feel like i’ve been drowning you all in fluff which is CRAZY because i’m an angst girly at heart🫣 i have enjoyed writing happy drew & rafe so i can’t complain !!

pls send some angst requests pls !! mainly w/ a happy ending :)

[redeemingvillains]

closed & locked - lorenzo berkshire

summary: fact: you are overwhelming smitten with lorenzo berkshire. fact: you think he's smitten with you too. but when you and pansy hear something you shouldn't have, it has you questioning everything you thought you knew about hogwarts' biggest flirt.

words: 3.5k

warnings: v suggestive, probably a bit 18+

author's note: i apparently write for enzo now? who knew. we only have @pizzaapeteer & @prythiansprincess to blame as they have been fueling my obsession completely. i loved this! it was so fun to write! mwahhh!

soundtrack: where i wanna be - arizona

_______when she speaks, it's a dangerous fantasy ________that sets me free, to where i wanna be

Your fingers curled into Pansy's as she tugged you along beside her in the dark corridors of the common room until you reached an alcove along a small landing that provided you both with a glimpse of the boys below. Your heart was thrumming in your chest as you tried to quiet your breathing and she waved the extendible ear excitedly in front of you; you shook your head thinking, again, how crazy this was.

"Don't you want to know what they talk about?" she'd asked you twenty minutes ago as she attempted to pry you away from studying for your potions exam in the library.

"Not particularly, no" you argued as you laughed.

"Really?" she drawled as she tilted her head and put her hand on her hip. "Not even what a certain boy has to say about when he might finally sack up and make things official with you?"

Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson.

"That's-that's not what they sit around and talk about, surely..."

"Well, we can't know for certain unless we try, can we?" she pushed.

She knows me too well you thought now as you watched her lower the extendible ear down just out of sight of the group below. Whether she was excited for juicy gossip or was simply sick of listening to you go on and on about him, Pansy knew that hinting at anything to do with Lorenzo Berkshire was the secret to getting you to do pretty much anything, because gods you couldn't get enough of him.

Even now, you were teetering on your tiptoes trying to catch a glimpse of his lithe figure, the way you knew he'd be sprawled with his legs spread wide on the couch with his cocky smile and his long fingers that he liked to rustle through his thick hair... you felt noticeably hotter under his oversized sweatshirt as you grasped it away from your heated skin. Gods I need to get a hold of myself.

He was the flirt of your year, so you hadn't taken his attention seriously at first, but then banter became flirting became innuendos became his warm palm pressed against yours as he pulled you into him at a Slytherin house party, his plush lips finding yours as his hand cupped your face and you swore you felt fireworks in your rib cage.

You'd been kissed plenty of times before, but after that first kiss with Lorenzo, you weren't actually sure anymore.

He kissed you in a way that no one else ever had; he kissed with his entire body, his hands grasping your face or tangling his fingers in your hair, his lips soft and demanding, his tongue doing ungodly things to yours that had you grabbing for him as he undid you one seam at a time, his hips pressing into yours in a way that you felt in every fiber of your being, and when he let out a low groan against your mouth? You were fairly certain you departed from earth completely before floating back down in a haze.

Simply put, you were instantly and irrevocably addicted to him.

And the better part of you believed he felt the same way.

At first everything between you was purely physical, how often and how fast you could tear each other's clothes off, but then he'd started to slow down, to take his time with you, to pull back and lock his eyes with yours in way that felt incredibly intimate; he'd kiss you lavishly, fully, just exactly the way you loved and he'd hold you long afterward, adamant every time that you stay the night, pulling you into his arms so your head rested on his bare chest where you could hear his heartbeat and the rumble of his voice.

And you'd talk for hours, sometimes even until the grey of dawn snuck beneath the curtain of his window; he'd trail his fingers down your bare back or play with your fingers, tangling them with his own until he rested them over his heart.

He told you what scared him, what excited him, he talked about his future and, more often than not, your place in it. Surely, you thought, as you frequently did, it'll only be a matter of time until he makes things official.

But the topic always seemed to evade your conversations, and a growing part of you consistently wondered why, your insecurities popping up every time you heard another girl talk about him or another rumor circulated about who he might have hooked up with despite his adamant denial...

Pansy motioned you closer to her and the ear in her hand and you could just make out the recognizable timbres of your friends voices through the tinny line.

You both leaned in eagerly for several minutes, until you came to the realization that the boys were just as talkative and exciting together as they were with you... which was not. at. all.

After an enthralling forty-minute discussion about quidditch you were both sprawled on the floor, struggling to keep your eyes open.

"Paaannnns" you whined in a whisper.

"You don't even have to say it. Terrible idea" she acknowledged. "Why are they soooo boring?"

You were about to answer her when you recognized the sound of your name and sat up quickly, eyes meeting hers.

"Where is she tonight?" you heard Mattheo ask.

"Studying, s'got a potions exam tomorrow" Lorenzo said casually.

"Hmpf" Mattheo laughed, and then, "Does that mean Aurora's coming by then?"

Several of the boys laughed.

And your heart plummeted so fast into your stomach you grasped the wall next to you to steady yourself.

"AURORA!?" Pansy whispered ferociously, looking just about as panicked as you felt. "Aurora Bellhaven!?"

You shook your head in disbelief, in shock, as you felt the stinging pressure of tears behind your eyes. There was another girl?

"Fuck off" you heard Lorenzo say.

"Whaaaat? I think it's sweet" Mattheo answered.

You were going to kill him.

You were going to kill all of them.

They knew, they fucking knew Lorenzo was hooking up with someone else and didn't tell you, not even Theo who you'd been friends with longer than Pansy. They all let you walk around like an utter fucking fool. You covered your face with your hands in embarrassment as the tears fell hot against your cheeks and you felt Pansy's arms around you.

"You could just cut that bullshit and lock things down with YN bro" you heard Theo say, but it felt like far too little too late for the sentiment even as you peeked through your fingers as Pansy.

"Seriously, what is the plan there?" Mattheo asked.

"Ehh, you know how it is" Lorenzo drawled.

And you held your breath, because you were quickly learning that you certainly did not know how it was.

"We're a thing, but the door's never completely closed."

Someone let out a low whistle.

And you heard a deep exhale like one of the guys blew out a breath in surprise.

"Cut throat, mate" Blaise muttered.

"Fucking stupid" Theo said and you could picture him shaking his head, his eyes glacial; he'd never approved of the two of you together and you were slowly realizing this may be exactly why.

"And how does she feel about that?" Mattheo asked.

"It's pretty clear she doesn't know, you ass" Theo snapped as you heard the thud of what sounded like a pillow being thrown.

There was the sound of scuffle, then a moment of silence, and then the topic of conversation changed, simple as that, leaving Pansy staring at you in open-mouthed shock before you slid your hands over your face again to muffle your own sobs.

What. The. Fuck.

The next morning Pansy marched down the stairs that led to the common room from the girls' dormitory to find Enzo in his normal spot, leaned against the wall, waiting for you.

"She's not coming" she said sharply as she walked past him.

"Well good morning to you too" he said, sitting up straighter before glancing at the empty stairwell and then back to her. "What do you mean she's not coming?"

Pansy spun to face him.

"I mean she doesn't want to have breakfast with you, and she doesn't want to see you today."

He reared back and his face broke into a smirk like she'd told a ridiculous joke.

"One, of course she wants to see me, don't be fucking daft. And two, what are you? Her guard dog? Mind your business, Parkinson, meddling doesn't suit you."

Pansy could tell he was trying to play it cool, but the way his eyes were narrowed and the way he had snapped at her at the slightest notion that he wouldn't get what he wanted, wouldn't have you, meant her words had had the desired effect; she'd listened to you actually cry yourself to sleep the night before, and she was more than ready to lay into him.

"She doesn't. want. to. see. you" she retorted, enunciating every word. "And I'm not her guard dog, I'm her friend, who happens to love her and care for her, two emotions you seem utterly incapable of. I'm not going to sit back and watch you take advantage of her anymore."

His eyebrow cocked at that.

"Babe, I promise you she would not call what I do to her taking advantage" he said as he smirked again. "If anything, she's taking advantage of me, but it's okay, I like it that way."

"You're disgusting" she said, rolling her eyes as she walked away from him.

He and Pansy had never been close, but she'd also never come at him like that. His hand flexed in and out of a fist in frustration and confusion as he watched a few other girls come down the stairs, none of whom were you.

Had he woken up in an alternate reality, because what the fuck was going on?

Breakfast was...weird.

Enzo had walked to the Great Hall alone, in silence. He was normally content to listen to you talk, to feed off of your morning energy, the way you seemed excited about every new day; he didn't realize how much he relied on that, he felt groggy and moody and instantly reached for the coffee.

Everyone had left your spot open on the bench next to him like you might appear out of thin air, slip in beside him, slide your hand onto his thigh or snuggle your head into his shoulder. But you never did. And he could definitely do without the third-degree he was getting from Theo who stared angrily at him all morning. But he brushed last night's conversation off, it wasn't his fault he didn't want to sit around and talk about his feelings.

For the rest of the morning his eyes searched the corridors for you like a lost puppy, your extended absence and Pansy's comments starting to properly bother him now as he cursed the fact that you didn't have any classes together today.

So when he laid eyes on you that afternoon in the courtyard, he felt a physical weight leave him. Fucking finally he thought, walking towards you, eager to talk to you, to touch you, to confirm for himself he hadn't dreamt the last four months you'd spent together. He was genuinely thrilled to see you... until he wasn't.

You were talking to the guys on the starting line of Hufflepuff's quidditch team, and his feet slowed as he watched you smile shyly and tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear in the very way you used to with him in the earliest days of him trying so damn hard to flirt with you.

He felt something distinctly primal shift in his chest. He swallowed deeply and a thought fluttered through his head that sounded an awful lot like 'Mine'.

He steadied his stride, walking right up to you as he wound an arm around your shoulder.

"Boys" he said dismissively.

"Babe" he shined, looking down to see your wide eyes looking up at him.

He smiled and breathed a sigh of relief; he could read you like a book he'd written himself and he knew you were looking at him in a way you'd never looked at anyone else, starry-eyed, glazed over with affection, full of adoration. Got her he thought.

But then your eyes shifted. In an instant, he watched them change in front of him like a wall coming down as you stepped out of his grasp.

"Good luck at practice" you waved to Cedric Diggory, who might as well have had hearts in his eyes as he watched you go and his teammates laughed and patted him on the back.

Enzo's attention snapped back and forth between your complete dismissal of him and the obvious way Cedric was checking you out.

"Hey - Hey! Eyes right here you fucking prick" he said, shoving Cedric's shoulder in an effort to get him to stop looking at you.

"I'm sorry?" Cedric scoffed.

"Don't fucking look at her like that."

"Like what, Berkshire? And what difference does it make to you anyway?"

Enzo could feel his blood running hot in his veins.

"I know you two had something going on" Cedric continued, "But, what is it she said, boys? Something about the door never being completely closed? Sounds like an open invitation to me."

Enzo's heart dropped into his stomach.

And for the first time in his life, he didn't have a snide remark or a quick comeback at the ready. The bell rung for class and the Hufflepuffs turned to leave, laughing as they left him there staring after them.

He carded his hands roughly through his hair and then over his face. The door's never completely closed? Hadn't he said that exact thing the night before? So why did hearing it now make him feel physically sick.

Enzo’s head was fucking scrambled, and by the time dinner came around, he couldn't tell if he wanted to scream, punch someone or to light something on fire.

Everyone at the table could sense his mood and gave him a wide berth. You weren't there, because of course you weren't and he sat in furious silence, shoveling food in his mouth.

And then, through the muffled noise of 1,000 people eating together in one room, he heard the distinct sound of your voice, your laugh and it was like his body was attuned to recognize it as his eyes shifted despite himself to see you standing with Dean Thomas in the doorway. In reality it wasn't a big deal, plenty of people were milling around or coming and going, but to him it felt like there was a spotlight on the two of you.

Dean was standing far too close to you and looked far too comfortable and happy about it, like he was flaunting it as you laughed again. Enzo wanted to steal the sound right from your lips, to put it in a jar and stash it somewhere only he could listen to it, because it was the same sound you made when he kissed the sensitive spot where the base of your neck met your collarbone and no one had the right to hear how fucking perfect that was besides him.

"Bro" he heard Blaise say, trying to get his attention.

But he couldn't look away.

The same fire that burned in his veins before had reignited now as he watched the two of you leave together. Why the fuck were you ignoring him and brushing him off all day? And when did every guy in the four fucking houses decide they had a chance with you when he'd spent the last four months making it abundantly clear that they didn't.

"BRO!" he heard Blaise say again, and his eyes snapped to him to see him gesturing at the table just in time for every goblet within arms-length shatter, spraying glass, water, and pumpkin juice all over the table. His anger had radiated strongly enough to shatter glass. Fucking perfect.

Someone cast a quick spell to clean it up, but the group was now staring between him, your departing figure and back again.

"Bet you'd like to close that door now, wouldn't you?" Theo muttered under his breath.

And everything clicked into place.

"You told her..." Enzo sneered as his eyes narrowed at him.

"What?"

"You told her I said that!" he said, his voice rising accusatorily as he pointed at Theo.

"I think you're a right idiot when it comes to her, that's no secret Enz, she could do a hell of a lot better–"

"–Oh, fuck off!–" Enzo said, getting to his feet.

"–But, I didn't say anything to her. You're both my friends. Bro code and whatever."

"No, she knew, she said it to Diggory."

"What?"

"He asked her about us and she said 'the door's never completely closed'!"

Fury was radiating off of him in waves, and several heads from other tables began to turn at the outburst.

"And that bothered you?" Theo clarified.

"Of course it fucking did!!" Enzo said, nearly shouting now. How fucking stupid could Theo be?

Theo gestured to him as if to say "See?! If it bothers you, how do you think it makes her feel?" Gods. How fucking stupid could Enzo be?

"Fuck!" Enzo said, exasperated as he tried to gather himself before he moved to run after you.

You were bone tired.

You had been sleepwalking through the day on less than an hour's night sleep, simultaneously fighting the urge to stay strong and to give up completely, to shuffle into Lorenzo's room, to curl into his soft, rumpled sheets that smelled like him, to curl into his arms, to let him help you forget everything you'd heard the night before.

But even thinking about what he'd said had the dam of pressure building behind your eyes even though it felt impossible to produce any more tears.

You turned down the last corridor before the dungeons which was empty and quiet with nearly everyone at dinner, when you heard quickening footsteps and turned to see Lorenzo's tall figure behind you.

"Salazar fucking Slytherin" he cursed, nearly out of breath. "You have been impossible today."

You opened and closed your mouth, your body attempting to process being alone with him and being this close to him; you could smell his cologne, could see the faint freckles on his nose, the hair falling over his face, the perfect curve of his lips and eventually the feel of his warm skin against yours as he grabbed your hand.

"Come onnn—" he said, teasingly, pulling you into him despite the resistance you showed.

Fuck he knew exactly how weak you were.

"—I don't know what you've been playing at, but I'm exhausted and I'd love nothing more than to peel every piece of clothing off of you and—"

"–Shame. Aurora just isn't doing it for you?" you quipped.

You had envisioned so many other more clever ways to confront him, but being this close to him, this tempted by him left you no choice. You had to say it as much to hear it yourself as to confront him.

Regardless your words had the intended effect as you saw his eyes widen, his mouth fall open slightly and his grasp on your hand loosened enough for you to pull away and wrap your arms around yourself.

"Merlin" he said as he ran his hands over his face and groaned as anger and pain welled up inside you.

"Fine" he said flatly, a little angrily, in a way you hadn't heard him speak to you before. "You want to know about Aurora?—" he asked, letting his cold gaze fall on you.

You tried to stand a little straighter. No. Yes? No? You opened your mouth but couldn't form a coherent reply.

"—Cause I am more than happy to fill you in on exactly how she and I spend our nights together" he said, taking a step towards you.

You took a step backwards and your face fell, as you bit your bottom lip to keep from crying.

"Lorenzo" you said quietly, begging him to stop whatever torture this was.

You saw his jaw tick at your plea.

"Aurora makes the best sleeping draught of our year."

Confusion and panic were written on your face as you tried to figure out what he was saying as his eyes met yours, unwavering.

"I don't..." you started.

He moved to close the space between you and cupped your face in his hands, holding your gaze to his own.

"I'm so fucking pathetic for you that I can't sleep when you're not with me. So I have to pay that girl an ungodly amount of money to make something to help."

Your eyes searched his, seeking even a hint of untruth and finding none. You opened your mouth and closed it again for the thousandth time as you brought your hands to rest on top of his.

"But I thought..."

"Yeah it's very clear what you thought based on the way Pansy nearly hexed me this morning."

You swallowed and closed your eyes, shaking your head to try to sort out this information.

"But you said despite what we have the door's never completely closed, I thought that meant—"

"—I knew it! I fucking knew Nott told you, I'm going to kill him!" he said, letting you go and stepping away as his hands curled into fists.

You bit your lip guiltily but didn't feel like giving him an ounce of your truth until you were sure you had all of his.

"Lorenzo" you said quietly, your voice wavering slightly, pulling his attention back to you. "Why did you say it?"

He sighed deeply as he turned back to you, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"You're the only one that does that" he said.

"Does what?" you asked, confused.

"Use my full name. And it fucking kills me every time, to hear how perfect it sounds on your lips—“

"—D-Don't change the subject."

"I'm not."

You frowned at him.

"Look…the boys hound me relentlessly about you. It's constant. All the fucking time, especially Theo" he said, getting worked up.

"And I wanted to bring us—this up—" he gestured between you "—But they started making it seem like such a big deal, like it needed to be a fucking marriage proposal; how was I going to do it? When was I going to do it? What was taking me so long? And at a certain point I didn't even know how to go about it anymore and started psyching myself out..." His face scrunched in a way you hadn't seen before as he looked down at his feet.

Was he... nervous?

"...Like, maybe you didn't even want that with me, or didn't even see me like that because why the fuck would you, you know? I don't have the most...stellar reputation, and clearly you have no shortage of fucking options... And the idea of asking you and you saying no?!?" he scoffed and grimaced, shaking his head. "Not an option, not a chance I was willing to take."

He shrugged.

"So I thought it was better to just let it play out, to stop wishing for shit that's probably too good to be true anyway and just try to enjoy what I could... I don't know… But I do know that today absolutely blew without you. Turns out I really really don't want that door to be open, YN, not even a little bit."

A sweet, slow smile spread across your face.

"But seriously Diggory's fucking dead next match, and I look forward to a long chat with your boy Dean Thomas as well."

You smiled wider and rolled your eyes, reaching to tangle your fingers into his.

"So, just to clarify" you said as you stepped towards him, "The door is closed? We're...?" you let the question hang as you gestured between the two of you. A thing?

"The door is very closed. Locked. With a fucking armoire in front of it, love, has been. There's no one else, there's not going to be anyone else."

For a brief moment, you felt overwhelmingly foolish at what you'd accused him of as you blushed deeply and averted your eyes. But reading you like he always did, Lorenzo moved to kiss you, not wasting another minute of this godsforsaken day to get his lips on yours, to hear your soft sigh of relief against him and the way you melted into him, slowly winding your arms around his neck, your hands tangling into his hair as his tongue tangled with yours.

He picked you up, pulling your legs around his waist as he began to walk you the rest of the way to the common room, never breaking contact even as you laughed and squeezed him tighter.

"Mmpf-wait-wait! It wasn't Theo" you said, pulling back briefly.

"What?" he asked, breaking your kiss only long enough to press you against the wall and begin kissing his way down your neck.

You lost your train of thought as your mind went hazy at the feeling of his wet, warm lips against your pulse.

"T-Theo didn't tell me anything, so don't be mad at him."

"So, what, you reading minds all of a sudden?" he joked. "What am I thinking right now?" he asked as he ran his hand up your thigh, under your skirt.

"I don't need to read minds to know that, because I'm thinking the same thing, Lorenzo" you whispered, drawing out the length of his name and feeling his grasp on you tighten in response.

"Fuck, I literally don't care how you knew, love. We're here now and you're fucking mine and I intend to spend the rest of the night showing you exactly what that entails" he said, kissing you again before carrying you off to his room.

taglist: @kenjikishimotoswifey, @mattiesgf, @sleepiibunniiii, @darlingshecried, @girllblogging777, @foivetimesacharm, @clar2aa, @broadwaybaby123, @slytherinscreamqueen, @chelawrites, @loverliner, @smut-anarchy, @locknco

[bloomries]

hey listen to me, will ya!

includes  : diavolo, barbatos, and solomon.

summary  : trying to convince them to do something, but they won't listen, because they know they'll give in to you in a second!

warnings  : gn! reader. i couldn't think of anything for simeon, so no simeon sorry! not proofread.

DIAVOLO

To let you be big spoon.

"No." It was almost comical, the way the giant man that Diavolo was was acting in such a childish way, his hands over his ears and he repeated an off tune 'lalalala.' You sigh, arms crossed over your chest as you watch him, letting out an annoyed sigh every now and again.

After a good four minutes, you decide to put a stop (mostly for your poor ear drums sakes), and walk over to him, taking his arms and forcing them apart. He keeps them firmly planted over his ears, shaking his head. "Diavolo, this is ridiculous."

"Can't hear you~" You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to think of a way to at least get him to hear you. That was the problem though, he knew if he heard a single word from you on this topic, he'd fold immediately.

"Dia," You coo softly, and even though he claims he 'can't hear you' he sends you a glance because when you call his name that way it almost always certainly leads to a sweet kiss. You step closer to him, tilting your head in such an appetizing way.

"Mmm..." He doesn't like where this is going.

You lean up and capture his lips in a kiss, one that has him melting. You gently guide his hands away from his ears, pulling away and giggling as he chases after your lips.

"Let me be big spoon, just one night." He pouts, his hands squeezing your sides.

"...Just one night?"

"Just one night." Diavolo sighs, looking off to the side. His pout was adorable, made you want to bite his cheek.

"Mmm... Alright. One night."

Per usual, you always got what you wanted from the Prince of the Devildom.

BARBATOS

To get a puppy.

Barbatos silence only served to make you more annoyed. "You could at least pretend to consider it, you know?" Barbatos continues to not say a word, continuing with folding the laundry. "Seriously?"

Barbatos, with his nose held high, folds on. 'I can't hear you' is so obviously written across his face you would punch it if you didn't love it so much. You huff, sitting on the bed.

"I can take care of a puppy. I'd be great at it." Barbatos clears his throat, turning around. "We could be it's parents. We'd be amazing puppy parents." You urge, pushing yourself off the bed and reaching for his waist, wrapping your arms around his middle.

"Don't you want to be a parent with me?"

Barbatos internally groans, you never play fair, do you? He refuses to be swayed on his topic, however. He has a rowdy prince to look after, and you have seven even rowdier brothers to look after, a puppy wouldn't fit in either of your schedules, whether you decide to accept that or not.

"Barbbbb," You whine, and he keeps his head high. He won't ruin his perfectly good streak of not giving in to you by looking at your ridiculously perfect face.

"Fine." You huff, pulling away from him. "I'll just ask Diavolo for-" Barbatos finally reacts to your words, swiftly turning and grabbing your forearm. He gives you a stern look.

"Please... Don't..." He sighs, closing his eyes for a second, letting out a shaky exhale. If you ask Diavolo, it wouldn't be just one puppy, but fifty. "We can consider a puppy once everything settles down, alright?" You give him a pointed look.

"Really? Promise?"

Begrudgingly, Barbatos admits defeat. "Really, I promise. But not now, understood?"

"Understood!"

SOLOMON

To teach you a potion.

"Hm? Do you hear something?" Solomon calls to no one in particular, "I could've sworn I heard something, but must've been nothing."

"Wooow," You say in an exasperated tone. "Very mature, Solomon. For a guy who's been around for hundreds of years, you're just like a child, I swear." Solomon furrows his brows, looking around the room in an overly dramatic manner.

"There it is again! So strange!"

"I just asked you to teach me how to make that potion from earlier- the one that-" Solomon covers his ears and even closes his eyes. "Seriously?"

"If I can't hear or see you, then I won't be tempted." Solomon yells, causing you to take a few steps back. "You're very bewitching, you know, and I won't fall for your tricks."

"You-" You roll your eyes at him, "Ugh, I swear..." You watch as he takes peeks at you every now and again, and you groan as he continues on the act every time he confirms you're still there.

If he claims you're so bewitching, you might as well use it, you decide, running a finger just under his chin and tilting his head to look at you.

"Solomon." You call, "Teach me, won't you?"

He falters. Damn your good looks. Solomon relents, hanging his head in shame. He's failed himself.

"What potion is it?" He sighs, turning towards the open books.

"This one here~"

[cherrychilli]

18+ Steve Harrington X F! reader, friends to lovers, flashing (f) WC: 762 Summary: Steve's amazed by the number of things you can fit in your bra when you refuse to lug around a bag with you.

In the last two hours you'd pulled out a wad of fives to pay for the snacks you'd both picked up at the gas station, then a lighter as the two of you sat out on the hood of Steve's car, overlooking Lovers Lake while you had a smoke and last, a pack of minty gum for you to chew and smack on when you got back in the car.

What fascinated Steve was that none of these items had been stored inside a bag like one might expect, all of them pulled out of your bra like it was an entirely normal thing to do. Unable to ignore it any longer and more than a little flustered, he finally breaks his silence on the matter.

"Okay, I have to know. What else do you have in there?", Steve carefully gestures vaguely in the direction of your breasts, looking all kinds of exasperated. You return his look with an amused smirk.

"I'll give you two guesses", you puff your chest out, the answer so obvious it makes him roll his eyes.

"Not them- uh, those. I mean, c'mon. Doesn't it ever get, I don't know...uncomfortable having to wedge it all in there?", he asks trying and failing to choose his words carefully while his eyes flicked back and forth between your face and your cleavage.

You see your chance and pounce at it, especially since he'd set you up for it so perfectly.

"I don't mind a tight fit, Steve", you chew on your gum with a wink, torturing the poor boy as you leisurely blow a bubble big enough to pop.

"You- you know what I uh, what I meant", he tells you while trying his damndest to appear composed, his voice giving him away when it cracks enough to make you snicker.

He does have a point though, you could admit that much as you cut the jokes and decide to answer with a simple shrug. "I don't know. It's something I just got used to. There's enough space for everything I need. And besides, I hate having to carry a bag around. those things make my shoulders sore as all hell", you explain honestly although you can tell that Steve's nowhere near ready to move on from the subject just yet.

"Tell you what. Since you're so interested, how about a game? loser has to do whatever the winner says if you can guess how many other items I've got in here.

"Seriously?", he checks, eyes all round and alert.

"Yup", you confirm.

Knowing of three items already, he thinks hard. Much harder than he ever has before, his eyes fixed on your breasts, trying to ascertain what else might be hiding under your clothing, even working up a light sweat near his temple which makes you giggle.

Steve's making it out to be some sort of life or death deal and honestly, you liked how seriously he was taking this, showing you how much and how badly he wants to get a peek under your sweater.

"C'mon Harrington. Don't wanna be out here all day you know", you chide after another minute ticks by.

"Okay...five?"

Reaching inside, out comes the lighter, the gum and the money again, his eyes still hopeful when you fish out your apartment key followed by a tube of lip balm only for his face to crumble when you finally pull out a spare hair tie.

So close. He'd been so damn close as a really pitiful look of defeat spills over his face.

"Okay, so what to you want from me?", he groans, ever the sore loser.

You might have won but you don't feel any thrill in having done so. If you were being completely honest, you weren't exactly mad at the thought of Steve winning. In fact, you'd quietly hoped for him to do so just to see what he might have asked of you.

Well, you've got a pretty good guess as to what it might be.

Boobies, of course.

You didn't have to. You really didn't have to but the sight of him like this makes you feel oddly compelled to reward him anyway. Anything to wipe that dour look on his face.

Reaching round, you watch Steve's perplexed face with glee as you unclasp your bra and pull it out through your sleeve so seamlessly, winking at him before picking up the hem of your shirt and lifting it up to let him see your breasts bounce free and bare.

"Your undivided attention", you grin at his cherry red face, knowing full well this wouldn't be the last time you let him see them.

[kjhbsies]

Too much?

navigation | main masterlist | rules

Smallville Clark Kent x reader

synopsis: Clark was too busy saving Smallville, and Y/n just wanted a little attention. But when he told her to stop being clingy, She took it to heart— pulling away completely.

wordcount: 1,771

note: 16+ angst to fluff

divider from @enchanthings

"Am I okay?" Y/n echoed, tears welling in her eyes as she stepped forward. "You seriously had the audacity to ask me that?"

Clark blinked, completely thrown off guard. "What—?"

"Our date, Clark. You stood me up. Again."

His stomach dropped. And Clark opened his mouth to say something, anything, but Y/n wasn't finished.

"I waited for you for hours at the diner. I called. I texted. And nothing! No explanation, no anything. Just me looking like an idiot in front of everyone while my boyfriend completely blew me off."

Clark swallowed, "Y/n, I—"

"I'm so sick of this, Clark. This is the third time this has happened. And I know— God, I know you're busy. That people need you. But what about me? I'm your girlfriend."

Clark's jaw clenched. He had been through hell tonight, barely keeping Smallville safe, and how he was being berated for doing the right thing?

"Y/n, you know that's not fair." He shot back, voice sharper than intended. "I can't ignore people just because of a date."

Y/n scoffed. "Wow. That's just... great."

Clark exhaled sharply, patience wearing thin. "I'm not saying that, but you're acting—"

"Like what?" She challenged, tilting her head.

Clark hesitated, but the words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Clingy. I just—" He groaned, running a hand down his face. "I need space, Y/n."

Silence.

And then, something in her head shifted.

Y/n quickly wiped the tears off her face. The anger in her eyes didn't die out, but something colder settled in. Y/n inhaled a sharp breath and took a small step back.

Clark immediately regretted it.

"Y/n, I—"

"Got it. I'm sorry." She said, voice almost detached.

Clark felt like the ground beneath him had just shifted. "Wait, I—"

But she didn't let him finish. She quickly turned to her heel and walked as fast away as she could.

And Clark did nothing but watch her disappear from his sight.

For the first time in what felt like weeks, Clark actually got some rest. Deep, uninterrupted sleep. His body had needed it. His mind had been craving it. But the moment he opened his eyes, the argument last night was the first thing that crossed his mind.

Clark exhaled slowly, sitting up on the worn-out couch in the loft, running a frustrated hand on his hair. The barn was eerily quiet in the morning light, but his thoughts weren't.

He told himself over and over that it was probably for the best that Y/n was leaving him alone. That's what he wanted, right? He had been overwhelmed by Smallville's never-ending chaos, by his responsibilities, by the weight of everything he was trying to juggle. He just needed time to breathe, to think, to clear out his mind. And Y/n, for the first time, was giving it to him.

So why does it feel so wrong?

He shook the thought away, forcing himself to focus on the present. He had farm chores to do, and things he needed to take care of. He'd see Y/n later. He'd apologize after everything was settled down.

Except... he never got the chance. Because Y/n was nowhere.

She had stayed at Chloe's house for tonight. The next morning, she was out with her parents for the entire day. The day after that? She was doing something, somewhere, but Clark had no idea what. And the next day, and the next.

And suddenly, Clark had realized— he had no clue what she was doing at any moment.

For as long as he could remember, Y/n had always been there. She was in his messages before he could open his phone. She was calling him just to tell him something entirely random, or waiting for him at the Torch, or showing up at the loft with snacks. She was always present. But now? Nothing.

Clark had caught himself glancing at his phone every few minutes, waiting for a text that didn't come. His inbox was empty of her usual good morning and good night messages. No texts about her breakfast. No updates about her cat. No sudden burst of excitement at whatever TV show she was obsessing over.

Clark had shook it off, telling himself that it was fine. This is what he asked for and he should be grateful for it.

But the lack of her presence left a void in his heart. He missed her voice. He missed the way she would randomly call him in the middle of the day, just to tell him the most insignificant details of her afternoon. He missed her rants about school, her dramatic complaints about the people that pisses her off, and the way she would text him just because she thought about him.

Clark found himself staring at his phone, scrolling through their old messages, re-reading conversations he had taken for granted. He hovered over her contact, debating whether he should call first.

But he didn't.

Clark didn't remember running to Y/n's house. He didn't even realize that his feet had taken him there until he was standing beneath her bedroom window, hands shaking, heart pounding violently against his chest.

He had fought off yet another creature, saving Smallville again, but for once, Clark didn't feel like a hero.

For the past week, Clark had endured every kind of physical battle ever imagined— facing off against meteor freaks, barely dodging blows that could've shattered his bones, and throwing himself into danger with no hesitation. But none of those compared to losing Y/n. Nothing could've even come close to that.

His hands gripped the windowsills, knuckles turning white. He had climbed through this window a hundred times, sneaking into her room when he wanted to escape and when he wanted to see her. It had always felt so easy, so natural. But tonight, his knees felt weak.

Still, he climbed inside, landing on the floor, breath uneven as his eyes found her. She was curled up in her bed, her hair splayed over the pillows as she was reading one of the books Chloe had recommended. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated her features and Clark thought she was beautiful. Heavenly.

Y/n looked at him with a cold stare, sitting upright before setting the book down on her nightstand. She didn't say anything. She didn't rush into his arms. She didn't scold him for going through her windows like he always did.

"Why are you here?"

Clark took a step forward, his legs threatening to give out beneath him. "I wanted to talk."

Silence.

She just stared at him, head tilting to scan his face.

His heart clenched, his breath catching in his throat as his knees hit the edge of her bed. "Please," He begged, voice raw, and with pure desperation. "Please talk to me."

Y/n exhaled sharply, trying to toughen up as she could feel her resolve cracking. "What do you want me to say, Clark?"

"I— I miss you."

"You miss me?" She echoed, scoffing. "That's funny because a week ago, you called me clingy."

Clark's jaw clenched, regret tightening in his chest. "I was stupid. I thought— I thought I needed time to figure things out."

"For what, Clark? To decide if I was too much for you? That my love was overwhelming just because I wanted attention for my boyfriend who I haven't spent time much with for weeks?"

Clark opened his mouth, but the words died out his throat. Because deep down, he knew she was right.

Y/n looked away, angrily blinking away her tears. "I gave you space," She continued, voice quieter now. "I pulled away. I stopped texting, stopped calling, stopped clinging to you like you hated so much. Did it make you feel good now?"

"No," Clark immediately answered. "I hated it. I thought space was all I wanted. I thought it would make things easier. But it didn't." He took a hesitant step forward, reaching out, fingers trembling. "I missed you. I missed your texts. I missed your calls. I missed hearing about your day, about your cat, about your gossip with Chloe. I missed you— all of you."

"I thought you wanted to break up," Y/n admitted. "And I was ready to give it to you if it would make you feel any better—"

"No, no, no," Clark interrupted, immediately dropping to his knees beside her bed. He reached for her hand, grasping it gently as if she would slip away at any second. "Don't say that, baby, please."

Y/n stiffened. "Clark..."

"No," He pleaded, shaking his head. "Don't say it. Don't—" His breath hitched, squeezing her hands tighter. "Don't say we should end this. Don't say we should part ways. I can't—" His voice cracked, and suddenly, his vision blurred with tears. "I can't lose you."

"You hurt me, Clark."

"I know, baby, I know. And I'll spend forever making it up to you if you'll let me."

"I don't know if I can go back to how things were."

Clark exhaled shakily, hands reaching up to cup her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek with such tenderness that Y/n shuddered under his touch. "Then let's start over. Let me love you better."

Y/n let out a choked laugh, shaking her head. "You're such a sap, Kent."

Clark smiled through the tears, relief flooding his chest. "Only for you."

A long beat of silence stretched between them, heavy with emotions too big to be put into words. And then, Clark leaned in, his lips brushing against hers— gentle at first, testing, waiting.

Y/n melted into the kiss. Her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him close.

Clark let out a desperate sound, his body pressing closer as if trying to mold himself into her as if trying to make up for every second they had been apart.

The kiss deepened— slow, intoxicating, filled with longing. Clark’s hands trembled as they slid down her back, holding her so close it almost hurt.

“I love you,” Clark whispered, lips hovering over hers.

"You better.”

And then she pulled him down again, her lips claiming his, her body pressing into him, her hands gripping him like he was the one who had been missing her all along.

Clark let out a breathless laugh between kisses, his heart feeling whole again for the first time in days.

Maybe he had been strong enough to fight monsters, to save a town, to lift things heavier than any man could imagine.

But when it came to Y/N?

She was the only one who could bring him to his knees.

©kjhbsies

[hotheadedhero]

*peeks in here*

*walks away to check if you do bayverse*

*return*

The bay bois getting an s/o who will occasionally will randomly be cuddling and then... *Affectionate bite* then letting go and telling them they love them.

AN: As an affectionate biter myself, I gotcha babes ;)

Affectionate Biting

Bay Turtles x Reader

Warnings: very mildly suggestive, an insomniac trying to grammar <3

Leonardo

The first time you oh-so casually bit him and smiled afterwards as if it was nothing had him going for a spin. Confused is the prominent word to describe how he was feeling at the time. The action was just so unprompted. He couldn't figure out why you felt the need to do something like that, nor how it could be seen as an act of love.

He's learnt over time that it's an unavoidable urge for you. There's nothing you can do about it. You just have to bite him for whatever reason you deem necessary. Leo is all too aware of this by now and may or may not use it to his advantage.

"For every hour we're out tonight, I'll give you a free bite. No questions asked, okay?"

These are terms you can comply with. He knows how much you miss him when he's gone, so setting up this ultimatum is an effective way of letting him go on patrol more easily.

Raphael

Being with you has involved its fair share of revelations and discoveries. There's at least a handful of things he's become savvy to whilst being with you but the random biting is one of the more bizarre ones.

Actions speak louder than words and they always mean the most to him but biting? What's up with that? Humans are weird. That's the conclusion he's come to. Even now in this very moment, you've taken a hold of his wrist whilst curled up in bed together.

"What are you, a cat or something? Quit it."

Of course, he's only joking. It's just so he can see your tongue poke out and your nose scrunch up in the cute way he likes. Even if he did seriously mean for you to stop, he doubts you would. You live by your own rules when it comes to these things. And, sure, you can bite him if you like. Just as long as you expect to get bitten back.

Donatello

It may catch him by surprise from time to time but only because you do it in the most random of situations. Whilst he's working away and you're sitting in his lap, you'll just latch onto the closest part of him you can access. He might jump if he's in the zone but it's never an issue.

Regardless of it being a problem or not, you've had your own curiosities about why you have such a primal impulse to chomp down on your boyfriend. Luckily, Donnie being as knowledgeable as ever has the answers.

"... the desire to pseudo-bite or squeeze anything we find extremely cute is actually a neurochemical reaction. 'Cute aggression' isn't motivated by vicious intent. Instead, scientists think-"

He halts on his words, blinks out of his matter-of-fact mode, and gazes down at you. All the while, you have his forearm locked between your teeth. Your attempt to smile coyly against his skin is adorable, and he smiles back before continuing his explanation.

Michelangelo

He won't ask any questions. In all honesty, he loves it. Although, there might have been a bit of a misunderstanding the first couple of times you went to take a nip at him. Let's just say he thought you were trying to get him in the mood. Can't blame a guy for assuming his lover is a little freaky in the sheets.

Having such a strong force overcome you is something he understands, though. It's like him when it comes to pulling a fast one over his brothers. You can bite him whenever you want to if that's what you feel you need to do. Even if you turned into a zombie, he'd still let you.

"And then we could be like, zombie lovers roaming the streets together."

Mikey holds his arms out, hands dangling as he playfully groans like the undead. You aren't entirely sure how the conversation developed like that but it's cute nonetheless. Hey, he's just being honest. He loves you that much.

[norrisleclercf1]

Could you please do lando x reader woth reader being really clumsy and end up hurt herself

Don’t feel pressured to do this request if you don’t feel connected

Have a great day

A/N: OOoooo I've missed writing

"Max for the love of god, if you make me die again I'll-" Lando stops talking as he hears a crash from the kitchen and looks up into the camera like it was a scene in the office and sighs, "Hang on chat, my girlfriend might be destroying our home," Lando says and frog hops out of the chair and taking off the headphones.

"Baby, you alright in here?" Lando turns around the corner and stops and feels his heart stop seeing you lying on the ground with glass everywhere. "Fuck, Y/n," He says not caring he wasn't wearing shoes and rushes to your side, "I slipped," You grumble just accepting your fate not wanting to move. "You're surrounded by glass don't move," Lando says grabbing the broom and swipes a huge chunk of it away from you.

"Are you hurt?" He asks, trying to remain calm, but the panic is obvious from the way his eyes are moving around quickly. "Lando I'm fine, just I broke your fancy glasses though," You say sitting up and keeping your hand in a fist, Lando notices it but doesn't say anything in the moment, "Give me a second," He whispers kissing your forehead. Rushing back into the game room he quickly turns everything off without a second thought and doesn't even explain to Max, rushing right back to your side where you stand at the sink running cool water over your hand.

"You got hurt," Lando curses and you just sigh softly and looking at him tiredly, "It's fine, not even deep enough for stitches, just get those little strips you used for your nose," Lando makes a face, "No, I'll take a scar but you won't," Lando argues making you rest your head on his shoulder. "Lando please, it's literally a papercut,' You sigh knowing he'd continue freaking out.

You've always been clumsy, but in the way where you knock your hip, stub your toe, trip once in a while, and Lando was already protective and constantly keeping you from doing this, now he was seriously thinking about putting you in bubble wrap, maybe he should bring you to all the races to keep you from hurting yourself.

"I don't care, you could've been," Lando stops talking and you sigh and move closer into him. "Lando, I simply tripped and dropped the glasses, it's a small cut, that's it. I'm okay," You whisper reaching up with your good hand and press out the ridge between his eyebrows.

"I'll be more careful, okay," You whisper, as he turns to look at you and sigh tugging you close and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I don't like it when you get hurt," He whispers having always kept an out for you, even before you two started to date. "I know, but I'm clumsy, it's going to happen," You whisper softly. "I'm going to wrap you in bubble wrap," He groans, making you smirk, "I'd like to see you try,"

[himbosandhardwear]

Eddie has a bad habit of picking at his skin when he's nervous. Not, like, shy nervous or stage fright nervous, but the real kind of nervous, not-sure-I’m-gonna-survive-this kind of nervous. Like while he was alone in the boat house, he'd shredded every one of his cuticles. That time Hopper caught him behind The Hawk, very obviously selling his wares, he'd bitten his lips bloody.

Tonight he's picking a scab off his knee. It's practically healed already, so it won't bleed, he just needs to feel something on his body come loose before he does.

“You good, dude?” Steve asks, so in tune to Eddie's nervous disposition. Such a good guy. What a friend.

Eddie lets his head hit his knee caps with a thunk.

“Yup.”

Steve snorts. “You don't look good. I mean… You know what I mean.”

He smiles, tilting his head to look at Steve, always happy to give him a hard time.

“Oh, absolutely. You think I look good, don't cha, Stevie?”

He gets a couch pillow to the face for that, but they're both laughing so he doesn't think he's crossed the line yet.

Yet, yet, yet.

“Seriously, what's up with you? You've been quiet. It makes me want to call the squad.”

“Har har,” Eddie mumbles, but he does uncurl himself, sitting back against the couch again. “I'm trying to work up the nerve to ask for advice but it's-” Christ, he doesn't even want to admit to being embarrassed, that's how embarrassed he is.

“It's what?” Steve asks, the picture of earnest encouragement. “You can talk to me about anything, man, we're, like, bonded in blood or whatever.”

“Right. Yeah. Except this has the potential to get real awkward, real quick, and I'm not sure we're at that level of friendship yet.”

“Well,” he drawls, “if you ask me whatever it is that's got you all flustered I'm sure that will level us up. Right?”

“I'm not flustered.” God damn his red fucking face. Steve just laughs at him. “It's just, I don't have anyone else to ask about this. Jonathan probably doesn't have this particular problem, cause he's got- Uh. Sorry.” Steve waves it away, so Eddie goes on. “The kids are too young and the band guys don't understand what we went through-”

“Eddie, just spit it out.”

“Fuck! Okay, fine! You asked for it.” He takes a giant breath, steels his spine and just says it. “The Trauma is affecting my ability to get laid and I don't know how to fix it. Every time I get close to it I freak out and have to bail.”

There. All out now.

He looks over at Steve, and it's so much worse than being laughed at or pitied. He just looks sad.

He shakes it off quickly, hair barely moving, Eddie notes. He finds Steve's hair routine both endearing and ridiculous.

“Yeah. Okay. That's super common, just so you know,” Steve assures him first. “Robin says it's all connected, your mind and your body, so trauma can, like, get trapped in weird places like that. I can't play baseball anymore. Cause the memory of beating demodogs to death.”

“As you do,” Eddie quips.

“Right. But your thing. Uh. Yeah, it took some time before I could relax enough to even attempt getting laid, let alone actually do it.”

“So?” Eddie drawls, waiting. “How did you get over it?”

Something is off. Steve's not known for being skiddish about sex, but his hesitation and his inability to look Eddie in the eye is setting off alarms.

“Hey, if this is too weird for you-”

“No, I'm good, it's fine. Just, I'm the only person you have to talk to about this, so I'm gonna try to be helpful but, uh,” he scratches at the back of his head awkwardly, “in all honesty, I haven't been laid since before Vecna either. Way before. So. Yeah. Not sure I should be giving out advice on anything.”

That's crazy. Like actually crazy. He can't even compute Steve Harrington not absolutely dripping in women. He must have some look on his face because Steve gives a dry sort of laugh, self deprecating, and leans back against the couch with him.

“Weren't you on a date with Brenda Mulligan the night- Vecna’s first attack?”

Steve shoots him a look. “Y- Yeah, but that didn't go anywhere. We weren't, like, compatible or whatever.”

Oh, yeah, it was weird that Eddie knew that at all, let alone remembered it nine months later. “That's too bad,” he replies lamely.

“Yep.”

He feels terrible for dragging down the whole night, it would've been better if he'd just kept his mouth shut. But that's never been his strong suit, as evidenced by him blurting out, “If the hottest guy in Hawkins can't find a suitable date, what fucking chance do I have.”

Steve snaps, “Don't say that. What the fuck?”

Great, now he's gone and made it weird. Good job calling your straight friend hot, you fuckin’ dipshit.

They sit in the awkward silence, out of things to say or out of useful things to say. Either way it's them breathing, the clock ticking, and the M.A.S.H. rerun playing softly in the background.

Steve clears his throat. “Whatever, let's get back to the point. You don't have to tell me if you don't want but…what do you think the specific reason is for your…issue?”

He thinks about it. Has been thinking about it, for a while now. “My dick still works, if that's what you're wondering.”

Steve chuckles, high and surprised. “Good for you.”

“Yeah. It's more like, I can't get out of my head. I start worrying about my scars, explaining them if someone asked. I think about how even though I don't want anything long-term, I wouldn't be able to do long-term anyway, because I'm a fucking mess. If it's really bad, I'll get flashes of Chrissy or Patrick's bones snapping, as a little soundtrack to the fun shit happening outside my head.”

Steve looks sad again. Maybe it is pity but it looks more turned inward, like he's dealing with his own shit more than Eddie’s.

“You hooking up with strangers then?”

Eddie blinks at Steve. “Well…duh. Right? Not like I have guys lined up around the block here in Hawkins.”

Steve is full blown scowling at the TV. It's weird.

“What if-”

Eddie waits but Steve doesn't finish his thought.

“What if…what?” He prompts, giving a little nudge with his foot.

He's still avoiding eye contact, not even turning his head to look in Eddie's direction.

In a soft voice, almost too quiet to hear, he says, “What if we helped each other out?”

He must've heard that wrong. Or he's misunderstanding.

“What?”

“What if we help each other out? Like, a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

That can't be right. No fucking way. It's a test. Like as soon as Eddie agrees, Steve yells ‘Aha! I knew you wanted to molest me! Goodbye forever!’ and runs out the door.

“What, exactly, do you mean? Like, what are you getting out of it?”

Steve finally looks over. “Well, I would think that was obvious. If you're willing.”

Eddie's legs are starting to go numb.

“Okay, so I blow you and you blow me, except when you're doing it I have to watch you take it like you're being force fed liver and onions at Grandma's house?”

Steve slowly shakes his head no.

“Oh, okay, so you're going to blow me and enjoy it,” he snaps sarcasticaly.

Steve nods once.

“You want to blow me?”

“Mmhmm,” he hums without moving a muscle.

“Since when!” Eddie brings his octave down from the upper atmosphere. “Since when, Harrington? This is insane behavior. Should I call the squad for you? I'm serious. I'll do it.”

“You don't have to say yes. I was just offering.” He says it like Eddie isn't one green flag away from stomping on the gas.

He starts nervously laughing, which makes Steve flinch unfortunately, but he can't stop.

“It's cool, just forget I said anything.” He moves like he's about to get up and leave, which is fucking insane because it's his living room. Eddie stops him with a tight grip around the bicep.

“Don't you dare. If you're even remotely serious, we have to have a much longer conversation. Sit.”

Steve drops like a sack of bricks. Which is…something.

“Right. First off, this is uncommon behavior in a straight friend. Is there something you'd like to tell me, so I don't think you've been body snatched?”

He pinches at the top of his nose, like Eddie is inconveniencing him greatly. Too bad.

“I'm probably bisexual.”

“Probably?” Eddie asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I'm an inexperienced bisexual,” he amends through clenched teeth.

“Good. Great. Happy to hear it.” His heart may explode from his torso à la Ridley Scott's Alien but sure. “Second on the agenda, what do you mean help each other out? What's on the table? Mutual handjobs and then we never talk about it again?”

“No,” Steve answers immediately. That's good. “I'm open to…whatever you're open to.”

“Steve.” He has to clear his throat. “You dont even know what you're agreeing to.”

“I trust you.”

Fuuuuuck.

“Okay, right, uh, let's circle back to that later. Third thing, what, uh, what is your level of commitment with this?”

He just stares at Eddie, all doe eyed. It shouldn't work, Eddie fucking invented that look. It's gotten him out of more scrapes than he can count. Now it's being used against him but to what end? Does Steve want to get bundled up in a blanket and tucked into bed? Because Eddie can make that happen for him.

“Whatever you want, I guess,” he finally says. “I mean, like I said earlier, friends who help each other out. Casual. I'm not interested in looking for Mrs Harrington anymore and you're having a problem relaxing around guys who don't understand what you went through.” He makes a gesture like ‘Ta da.’

He's not wrong. It makes sense. But…

“Fourth thing. Is this just an experiment for you? Cause I'm all for you exploring your sexuality but, historically speaking, friends are a bad place to start.” AKA ‘it will break my fucking heart if you decide you're not that into it and it's because it's me.’

“Eddie. Look.” He gets more comfortable, facing Eddie straight on finally. “What you're going to provide is practical knowledge on what has only been theoretical up to this point, but the theory has already been well established.” He taps his head. “Understand?”

A smug confidence melts Eddie into the couch. “You liiike me,” he sings. “You think about me naaaked. You wanna-”

Steve lands on him, lacking any elegance or grace, and nearly caves their skulls in with his Jay Garrick approach to kissing. Eddie doesn't say a fucking word. He does wonder at the fucking majesty that is making out sober. What a revelation. Steve keeps making these tiny, almost wounded noises, to the point where Eddie tries to back up and do a check in but Steve doesn't let him, he chases him down and latches back onto Eddie's bottom lip like he's Hannibal Lector. It's stupid hot.

Everything is going great until Steve lets out a sound that legitimately has Eddie worried he's upset about something.

He pulls back and asks, “Are you okay?”

“Oh fuck, I'm sorry. I just can't, I can't believe I got this fucking far. You're so hot I'm losing my fucking mind.”

“Me?” Eddie snaps. “Dude, you're out of your mind.” He pokes Steve in his meaty chest. “Literal. Prom. King.”

“Fucking stupid high school shit, are you kidding me?” He sits up, straddling Eddie's hips, which is boner enhancing to say the least; he's got Steve's thighs in his grasp immediately. “You don't get it, I'm gone on you. I've got it bad, man. I was playing it cool earlier-”

“At no point tonight were you in any way playing it cool.”

“-but, fuck it, guess I'm ruining it, cause I can't be cool about this. I don't want casual. I don't even want to date you,” and before Eddie can even worry about that, he says, “I wanna skip straight to boyfriends, man. I know you said you didn't want long term with anyone but-”

Eddie interrupts again, this time by pulling Steve back down horizontal and kissing him like he just bravely declared himself as all in.

If this is a pod-person, well, that's a problem for Tomorrow Eddie. Tonight Eddie just landed Steve Harrington as a boyfriend.

[dokyumms]

make it right

pairing: the8 x gn 14thmember!reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 1k

cw: arguments, making up, minghao is mean, the beach has nothing to do with the fic i just couldn't find any other pics.

a/n: another request finished! will begin writing a long fic soon... be scared... but enjoy this for now my kings even tho the end is kind of bad

it started off as an innocent, simple practice day.

sure, you were struggling a little, but you cut yourself some slack for being sick the day before.

"okay! let's cut it off here, good job everyone!" the choreographer announced with a quick reminder to hydrate and some other stuff that you tuned out. when he finished, everyone said their thank yous and started packing up. you too, began to gather all your belongings when someone tapped you on the shoulder.

turning around, you smiled to see that it was minghao.

"need something?" you asked, getting up and slinging your bag onto your shoulder.

"no, i just noticed you were having trouble on that dance break earlier. would you want to stay back a bit? i could help." he offered.

to be fully honest, you just wanted to go home; your body ached and you were still partially recovering from your fever. but on the other hand, you didn't want to seem lazy, so thinking it wouldn't take too long, you drop your bag on the floor.

"sure, a couple runs wouldn't hurt," you replied, walking toward the center of the room.

"you're not going yet?" chan asked as he made his way to the door.

you shook your head, "just need to fix the dance break, shouldn't take more than 20 minutes,"

he nodded, a little unsurely, but after seeing that minghao was there with you, he left.

however, those 20 minutes soon turned to 45.

you wiped your forehead with the back of your sleeve, catching your breath. "one more time?" you asked, though the exhaustion in your voice made it sound more like a plea than a suggestion.

minghao was already hitting 'play' on his phone, muttering, "if you can actually get it this time," under his breath.

you could barely hear him, but the comment made your stomach twist. you understood his frustration, everyone was getting this except you- and you were supposed to be one of the best dancers in the group. so, determined to get it right, you focused as the music started again, filling the empty space between you two.

but just as you felt the dance break begin, something was off. your timing, your footwork- something. and before you could fix it, minghao had already stopped.

"seriously?" he ran a hand through his hair, frustration seeping into his voice. "do i need to slow it down again? how are you still messing it up?"

the words stung more than they should've. you clenched your jaw, taking a slow breath. "i just need a second, okay? i'm trying."

"we've done this like ten times already, were you not paying attention to anything i said?"

"wow, thanks for the encouragement."

"the music video filming is coming up. if you mess up this much during it, we'll be there all day."

"you think i don't know that? maybe if you stopped nitpicking every little thing, i'd be able to focus."

"i'm 'nitpicking' because i care about this routine. unlike you, i actually want us to do well."

you were taken aback, going silent for a second.

"what? so you think just because i'm struggling means i don't care? why do you think i'm still here?"

minghao doesn't respond, so you kept going,

"i could've went home you know, i don't even need to be here at all! we both know that with maybe another day, i'd probably get it, but you said you'd help me, so i stayed and what do you do? forget it. i'm going home."

and with that, you packed up your things again and left, leaving minghao stunned.

you didn't think he'd show up to your shared apartment that night, probably crash with jun or something, but then you heard the door creak open.

keeping your eyes closed, you intently listened to minghao shuffle around, open a couple drawers, then leave.

huh, so he only came back for clothes? but then you heard another door close and rushing water only a minute later.

well, guess he was really deciding to stay over after that. you sighed, sitting up on the bed.

should you apologize so you both don't have to sleep angry? but you were definitely not apologizing for that. ugh, you hated trying to sleep next to a mad boyfriend, especially a mad minghao.

you considered just leaving the apartment and sleeping over at jeonghan's place, but you heard the shower turn off, so you plopped back into bed, shutting your eyes.

the door opened again, you tried your best to look like you were asleep, but you couldn't tell if it was working. you heard him sigh before saying, "i know you're awake,"

you don't even question how he know, "what about it?" you shot back, almost grimacing at your tone.

opening your eyes, you expected for minghao to shove you off the bed or ask you to move, but instead, an apology came from his mouth.

"i'm sorry, y/n. i really am. you were right, i was the one who offered to help, but i didn't and i'm sorry. i'll sleep on the couch, but i came here to apologize." he said, looking around the room as if he was a little kid apologizing to his mom.

you didn't respond, wondering if you should milk a little more from him. minghao would normally never apologize this early, being the stubborn guy he was. so when he turned around, you stopped him.

"wait- you mean it?" you asked. he nodded in response.

"okay, and?"

tilting his head, he tried to think of what else to say before sighing in defeat.

"and you're the best thing to happen to me, so i owe you dinner for the next week..."

"and?"

"you gotta be joking- and because i love you, i'll buy you that stupid $300 bag, now move so i can sleep,"

you complied, moving over so he can slip into bed. "you're impossible," he mumbled,

"and you're mean," you teased back. he chuckled lightly before wrapping himself around you. "i said i'm sorry," he whined.

"hmm, make it up to me?" you asked, puckering your lips at him. "no." he deadpanned, but after your face fell a little bit, he kissed you.

"no, don't make me buy you something else. we make the same salary, you know?"

"eh, you still get more gifts at fan signs than i do, but i'll let it slide." you replied, giving him another kiss before he nuzzled his head into your neck.