#and i will still take new requests going forward

[breakmeoff]

Things You Do For Love

featuring: kim seungmin x fem!reader warnings: swearing, discussions of safe words, in front of a mirror. SMUT: oral (m receiving), pegging (m receiving). MDNI, 18+ only* word count: 2.6k synopsis: when you first broached the topic of pegging him, seungmin nearly laughed in your face. but he had always had a difficult time saying no to you. so, to surprise you on your anniversary trip, he brings you a new toy to try out. and he doesn't hate it. note: welp. this happened. 😂 this is part of the Larie's Libations 200 Followers Celebration. this was a request by my cheeky anon reader 🐙, whose selection is listed below. this is my last entry for the event, and @angel-writes-skz-here has a couple more, but i have been saving this one for last cuz i wanted to go out with a bang - no pun intended (poor minnie's booty) 😂 thank you for reading! LARIE'S LIBATIONS - Citrus on the Beach [Whiskey] — Kim Seungmin [Orange Juice] — Vacation [Citrus Rind] — Kink (Pegging) Masterlist

You and Seungmin had been together for almost two years - though he’s adamant that the first 9 months don’t count.  You weren’t committed at that point, verbally anyway.  Neither of you had even attempted to be interested in anyone else during that time, but he hadn’t gotten the nerve to actually ask you to make it official before then.

Despite all of that, you had finally convinced him to take you on vacation during one of his breaks.  It was the first time you two would be going away together, even though you practically lived together, spending most nights either at his dorm or in the quiet privacy of your apartment.

More often than not, Seungmin begged (unnecessarily) to stay with you at yours, so he wouldn’t have to pretend to be on his best behavior in front of anyone else.  He’d long since given up the pretense of not being entirely himself with you, and he’d happily let himself become at ease with you. 

The vulnerability had provided the opportunity for you both to connect emotionally and physically with no barriers or nervousness.  There was no (true) judgement with anything, though he’d still tease you relentlessly if he felt like it - it was practically his love language afterall.

Which was why when you first brought up the idea of pegging him, he deadpanned at you and said “absofuckinglutely not.”  You whimpered and whined, begging him to at least be open minded about it.  He tried to walk away from you but you kept following him, teasingly trying to tell him all of the benefits of it.  “But Minnie, it could feel so good!” “If it feels so good then you go peg yourself,” he retorted. “So many guys say it feels good!  Something about prostate stimulation…” “I get plenty of stimulation outside of my prostate, thanks.” “It doesn’t mean you're gay if you like it either…” you tried, still close on his heel. He stopped still, you bumping into his back.  “Oh, definitely not doing it now.  Never even considered that!” “Ugh, Minnie…” you whined, placing your forehead on his back, and then you got an idea.  Running your fingertips up his spine teasingly, your tune of voice became sugary sweet, and typically could make Seungmin’s knees buckle enough to give you anything you wanted.  “What if it’s what I want for my anniversary present from you?” “Nope, nice try.”  He walked away from you, but still close enough to hear you giving one last ditch effort.  “I’ll think about letting you do it to me!” He paused, the wheels turning in his head momentarily, considering your proposition.  “Nah, I’m good.  Thanks though.  Bye now!”  He said, waving his hand behind him as he walked out your front door. You stood there, pouting, crossing your arms as you watched him walk out.  A second later, the door opened just a crack and you heard him say “Still love you, freak,” before he shut the door again.

Fast forward a month later, and you had just checked into your oceanside rented bungalow for the week.  With both of the glass French doors opened wide and the cool sea breeze rolling in, you stepped out onto the deck and inhaled deeply, breathing in the salty ocean air appreciatively.  

Seungmin dropped his duffle bag onto the king sized bed, glancing over to you as you just lit up with the change in atmosphere.  He couldn’t help but smile at you, you were perfect in his eyes, and he’d do just about anything to make you happy.

“I’m gonna go walk on the beach a little, do you want to come with me?”  You asked, turning to face him before you kicked off your sneakers, and pulled off your socks.

“Uhh, you go on ahead first.  I want to unpack a little bit and then I’ll come meet you,” he replied, resting his hand on top of his luggage.  

“Sounds good,” you said, walking over to lean up and kiss him on the cheek before you turned around and bounded down the weather-worn wooden staircase to the sand just outside.

Once you were far enough away, he exhaled deeply, turning towards his bag.  Unzipping it slowly, he reached in and pulled out the brand new strap-on. 

Holding it up in his hand, examining it for the umpteenth time, he put it down on top of the comforter and placed the cheesy, cheap self-adhesive bow on one of the straps.  “She’s lucky I love her,” he mumbled, shaking his head at himself.  

Not even attempting to unpack anything else out of his bag, he tossed it down on the floor in a random corner and then shortly followed you down to the beach.

Later that evening, after you’d both come back from meandering the quiet beach outside and having found a hole-in-the-wall restaurant within walking distance for a light dinner and a few glasses of soju each, you stumbled back into the bungalow, giggling with each other. 

“I am not drunk!” you insisted, lightly pushing his chest.  Catching your hand, he pulled you against him with a smirk, glancing down at you before he poked one of your cheeks.  “Oh yeah, then why you all red, huh?”

“I am not red,” you pouted, trying to pull your arm away from him limply.  

“Okay, Ms. Tomato,” he mused dryly, that ever-present cocky expression all over his face.  “It’s ok though,” tugging you closer to him, he wrapped his arms loosely around your waist and tilted his head down to yours.  “...I happen to like tomatoes.”

Looking up into his soft brown eyes, you poked him in the ribs gently, causing him to flinch and laugh before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.  “Jerk.”

Seungmin leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, chaste kiss.  “But I’m your jerk.”  Another small kiss.  “Happy Anniversary, Jagi.”

Against his lips, you mumbled back with a smile.  “Happy Anniversary.”

With a pause, a groan, and lifting his head to press a soft kiss to your forehead, he muttered.  “...there’s a present for you on the bed.”

“What!  Really?”  You asked, immediately pushing back from him with an elated look on your face.  Turning around on the ball of your foot, you excitedly jogged over to the bedroom and opened the door.  Taking one step inside, you froze, bringing a hand to your mouth in shock.  Seungmin glacially followed you, his eyes fixed on the flooring below.

“...you’re serious?”  Turning your head over your shoulder to look back up at him.  “Like… I mean… are you sure?”

Seungmin nodded his head once.  “If it really means that much to you then we can try it… but I get an immediate veto if I want to stop at any point.”  

Spinning around to face him again, you nodded your head quickly, wanting to make sure he was comfortable with anything.  “Absolutely.  We can stop at any point.  And… and we’ll have a safe word.  Like…” your eyes absently wandered around the room, trying to come up with a benign code.

“Pineapple.”  

You looked back up at him with a crooked smile.  “Pineapple it is.”

Shortly thereafter, both of you had shed your clothes and Seungmin was sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard, eyes closed with his hand loosely tangled in your hair as you had made yourself comfortable on the bed between his knees.  Your lips, already slick with spit and his precum, were wrapped tightly around his dick, pink, hard and veiny.

Neither of you were rushing anything, wanting to take your time with every touch, and appreciate each other in the privacy this vacation was providing.  One of your hands was gently toying with his balls, while the other inched up his torso, trailing your fingertips down his chest and tummy, causing him to shiver lightly under your touch.

“God, you feel so good.”  He whispered, opening his eyes to look down at you, bobbing your head up and down his shaft leisurely.  Brushing some of your hair out of your face, he caressed your hollowed cheek gently, moaning quietly when you took more of him into your mouth, so deep now that the tip of your nose brushed against his pelvis.  “Shit…”

Once you pulled back almost all the way off again, he spoke softly.  “I think I’m ready…” Seungmin’s eyes looked down to yours, pupils blown wide and breath labored, knowing if he let you keep going he would likely cum soon.

Licking your lips, you placed both palms on his thighs and nodded.  “You sure?”

“Yeah… yeah.  Before I change my mind.”  He smirked, motioning you to do what you needed to prepare.  

A few minutes later, you had laid a towel down on the bed, wanting to make sure not to make a mess on the rental’s comforter, and clumsily slipped on the strap-on over your hips.  Making the adjustments with the straps to make sure it was secure, you looked up to Seungmin who was cautiously kneeling on the towel.  “How you make that look hot too, I don’t fucking know.”

With a devilish grin, you crawled back onto the bed behind him.  “At least you still think I’m hot.”  A calming hand went to rest on his backside, and you lightly pressed your palm firmly on the small of his back, guiding him down onto all fours. 

“Don’t forget, we can stop any time you want.”  Lifting your gaze, you looked across the room to the floor length mirror conveniently facing the bed, only to notice that Seungmin had also lifted his head enough to look back at you through the reflective glass. 

Reaching over for the bottle of lube he had so wisely brought with him, you flipped open the cap and put a generous amount on your fingertips before bringing them to his tight hole, lubricating it carefully.  Dropping his head back down to the bed below, he flexed his fingers, the anticipation of how foreign this was going to be making him nervous.  Though, despite his intrusive thoughts, his cock was still rock hard.

“Gonna start small,” you said quietly, slowly pushing the tip of your index finger past his puckered entrance.  Seungmin bit his lower lip, but remained quiet, trying to breathe through the first sensations.  Hearing no resistance, you slowly pushed your finger in further, past the second knuckle, pausing occasionally just in case he asked you to stop.  But, all you heard was a soft hum. 

“You ok?”

“Yeah… it’s, it’s ok.”  He paused, not moving from the position he was currently in.  With his acquiescence, you slowly drug your finger out of him, just to push back in carefully.  A deep exhalation came from your boyfriend, and you felt him relax beneath your touch.  With a reassured closed lip smile, you looked into the mirror for his expression though his head was still down, eyes pinched shut.  

Pulling your finger completely out, you reached for the lube again and coated the entire length of the fake cock before adding another cold dollop to his asshole once again.  Shifting your weight on your knees, you placed one hand on his hip and aligned the tip of the dildo against his hole, leaning forward just enough to let him feel the pressure of the head.  “Don’t forget you can use the safeword, Baby.”

Nodding his head a few times, his fingers dug into the bedding below.  “Go ahead, just be slow while I adjust.”  

And then, you pushed the head of the cock against his rim and let it breach his entrance slowly.  As soon as you saw the tip disappear inside of him, Seungmin moaned out hesitantly with the intrusion.  “Ah-ah… it’s, holy crap.”  Cautiously, you placed your other hand on his opposite hip and began sinking into him even further.  “Fuck fuck… oh my God.”

“Minnie…” you asked quietly, watching him lift his head to look at you through the mirror in front of him.  “S’ok, s’ok… feels, feels full.  I’m ok.”  He nodded reassuringly, his lips parted.  With constant eye contact, you kept pushing the fake cock inside your boyfriend until it was almost fully seated inside.  Stilling there, you could feel all of his muscles tensing, adjusting to the foreign feeling.  

“How does it feel?”  Your hands ran soothingly over his hips and ass cheeks, trying to ease his muscles that were obviously tight all over.  “You’ve done so well so far, Min…”

“It… it doesn’t hurt, just feels… different.”

“...do you want me to continue?”

He only replied with a small nod of his head.  With your fingers back on his hips, you slowly pulled the dick out of his puckered hole, and Seungmin sighed with relief as it left his body.  Though, when you began pushing back inside, he moaned. 

Taking a deep breath, he relaxed slightly before you, and you felt encouraged to increase the pace.  Steadily rolling your hips, fucking the fake cock in and out of his ass, Min’s own cock twitched with the sensation and he started to feel good.  

“More…” he exhaled.

Checking in with him, you repeated.  “More?”

“Yeah… go on with it.”

“Anything for you Baby.”  Smiling with relief finally, you exhaled your own held breath and started to pick up the pace, fucking the cock into him harder.  

“Shit, fuck… yes,” he moaned, dropping his head down as he closed his eyes and let himself be in the moment and feel everything.

“God Minnie, you look so good like this.  You’re doing so so well for me.”  Your hands went back to caressing the skin on his back and ass, before leaning over him a little to reach below him and wrap your hand loosely around his aching cock.  

The moment your warm palm touched his shaft, he cried out in a broken moan, quickly lifting his gaze to meet yours in the mirror once more.  “Oh fuck baby… keep doing that.  I’m… I’m gonna cum.”

Curling over him, your hips kept thrusting in and out of his tight hole, and you began placing soft open mouthed kisses down his spine.  Stroking his cock in just the way you knew he liked, he let out a filthy noise before his voice broke, a tear edging at his eyeline.  “I love you.  I love you.”  

“I love you too, Minnie.”  Your hand continued pumping his dick expertly, timing the rhythm of your hips with your hand, just enough to make him crack.  Dropping to his elbows, he placed his cheek down on the comforter below as he cried out another moan, and you felt his cock twitching in your hand, and soon spurts of thick, hot cum shot all over his stomach and the towel below.   

“You’re perfect, you did so good, so good…” you praised, slowing your hips to come to a stop as you felt his body finally slump, all of the tension released from him.  Pulling the strap-on completely out of him, he sighed heavily, and straightened his legs to fall flat onto the bed.

Standing up quickly, you removed the contraption from yourself and let it fall to the floor before you crawled back up onto the bed and curled your body around his form. 

Brushing his sweat-damp hair off of his forehead and out of his face, he turned to look at you with a look of confusion, love, and satisfaction.  “Well…?”  You asked cautiously, kissing his shoulder as you kept holding the eye contact with his sleepy, blinking eyes.

“Don’t get rid of it…” he whispered, barely audibly.  A wide smile crept over your face and you leaned closer to him to kiss his lips lingeringly.  Muffled against your mouth, his smartass couldn’t help but quip “the things you do for love.”

my tags: @angel-writes-skz-here @idkimobsessed @queenofdumbfuckery @mfcherry @downingmorphine @pixie-felix @d3kstar @lveegsoi @ebnabi @nebugalaxy @babystay724 @mmarusa @imagine-all-the-imagines @erisuna @beabidoobee @hanniesbubuwife @bbykaixx @riri53 @jinniesgirl @alx-wyjsr @skzswife @hwangjoanna @stephanieeeyang @minnysproutgriffinteddy @moontabi @foivetimesacharm @letsstrippp @jqtsblyth @magicshuhua @berfgrimm @loveesiren @szonyix6277 @seungttttop @millytugby

[e1e4n0r5]

The Wolf's Bride: Chapter 4

Masterlist, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Fandom: Arcane: League of Legends

Pairing: Ambessa Medarda x Targaryen-coded Princess Reader

Words: 2592

Synopsis: You arrive in Noxus, and a crack appears

Warnings: Forced marriage, allusion to infant loss, mention of fingering (r! receiving), jealous partner

“That was a cold goodbye,” Ambessa remarked, standing beside you in the General’s quarters on board.

You’d stood silently during the journey, arms folded tightly across your chest, jaw clenched, watching out the floor-to-ceiling window as the world went by under you, flying towards your new home.

“How would you know? You don’t speak our ‘flouncy language’,” you snapped back.

“My guards heard your parting remarks to your father. Ending a conversation with a threat typically implies that said conversation didn’t go well.”

You shook your head. “Don’t. Please. Just…Just leave it.”

But Ambessa was nothing if not persistent. “Did you get to see your mother?”

Your heart cracked. “No. No, her doctors said…” your throat burned, and you had to clear it. “Her doctors said she was too distressed, and she needed rest.”

Ambessa made a dismissive noise and moved to pour herself a drink from the crystal decanter on the sideboard. “She was in a rather delicate state.” She regarded you closely, watching your eyes shimmer with unshed tears as you worked your jaw. “She can always visit Noxus in the future with your new brother or sister.”

‘If they both survive,’ you thought to yourself.

You looked up as you bit your lip, trying to force your tears back. “Did you need something, General?”

She hummed, walking behind you to your other side. Toying with you; a cat tormenting a mouse. “I just wanted to talk to you. We haven’t had much time to get to know each other.”

You tried not to scoff. “Well, we have the rest of our lives.”

She gleefully ignored your obvious request to be left alone. “Precisely, so let’s start now. What sort of things do you like to do? How did you occupy your time in your old home?”

The tears finally spilt over, and you quickly and angrily brushed them away. “I’d say a better question would be: what am I allowed to do in Noxus? I can’t imagine Noxians care much for embroidery, or horticulture, or dancing.”

Ambessa’s eyes lit up at that. Not cruelly, but with something worse. Interest. “There you are,” she murmured. “I knew there was a spark in there.”

You swallowed hard. Ambessa stepped closer. The woman never raised her voice. She didn’t need to. Her sheer size and presence, the way she looked at people as if deciding whether to devour or dismiss them, did the work for her.

“Let me be clear, little one,” Ambessa said, her tone calm, like a teacher correcting a student. “You’re no longer a little Princess of Valyria. You belong to me now. Noxus took you. I took you. But that doesn’t mean you have to be miserable.”

You turned back to the window, trying to blink away the hot sting in your eyes. “I don’t want your comfort.”

“No,” Ambessa said, taking another sip. “But I think part of you wants my attention.”

Your shoulders jerked. “You don’t know me.”

“I will,” Ambessa said simply.

“I am nothing but a prize to you,” your voice trembled. “Don’t pretend otherwise.”

She let out a thoughtful hum. “Maybe you were a prize. But you’re in my care now. And I’m curious. I want to see what happens when you stop pretending you’re made of glass.”

Your fingers squeezed your upper arms. “You think I’m pretending?”

“I think you’ve been trained to stand still, to smile. But a woman doesn’t look at me the way you did the night I took your city unless there’s something more under the surface.”

“You’re wrong,” you snapped. “I looked at you with fear.”

Ambessa stepped forward until you were inches apart. “Fear and fascination are cousins, little wife.”

You shook your head, chest tight, emotions clawing up your throat. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” Ambessa tilted her head. “You’d prefer I call you something gentler? A pet name, perhaps?”

“Stop it,” you whispered.

But Ambessa didn’t stop. She brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Tell me,” she said softly, dangerously, “When you were tucked up in bed, in those pretty rooms in Valyria, did you ever imagine what would happen if someone like me came for you?”

The air between them was thick. Too warm. Too close.

“I couldn’t imagine anything worse,” you said through clenched teeth.

Ambessa let out a low chuckle and turned away. “Oh, little one, you’ll come to see that I am not the worst thing that could have happened to you. Far from it. Although, from our time together last night, I think you already know that.”

With ashamed tears in your eyes, you watched her stalk across the room, muscles rippling. You hated how commanding she looked, how casually she took up space. You hated yourself even more for looking.

“We’ll arrive in Noxus this evening. You can either stay out here, sulking by yourself for the next eight hours, or rest inside here. We’ll find some way to pass the time,” Ambessa smirked as she opened the adjoining door to her private chambers. “There’s nothing left for you in Valyria, child; there’s no point looking back.”

The air in Noxus was colder than you expected.

Not in temperature, though the mountain winds certainly cut sharper than the dessert stillness of Valyria, but in mood. In weight. The skies above the stronghold were the colour of stone, and the buildings below forged from the same. Everything was stone and iron, high towers and brutal walls, the world around you humming with martial discipline and the clatter of armoured boots. Even the banners, deep red and black, marked with symbols you didn’t yet know, seemed heavier than cloth should be.

You stood at the edge of the airship’s ramp; your fingers curled tightly around the railing as you looked down at the city sprawling below.

Ambessa stood just in front of you, a silent mountain in her own homeland. The General didn’t speak as she disembarked, only motioned with one gloved hand for you to follow. The same gloved hand you’d let her fuck you with on the ride over, begging and weeping in ecstasy on the bed as you fell apart under her, shame burning in your chest the whole time.

Soldiers flanked you, eyes always forward, but you could feel them watching you nonetheless, sizing you up, measuring your spine.

You kept your head high, even as your stomach twisted.

The stronghold at the heart of the capital was not decorative, not gentle, but vast and dark and unapologetically fortress-like. No ornate pillars. No flowering gardens. Just strength.

Your footsteps echoed through its halls as you were led through corridor after corridor. Everything smelled of cold stone, oil, and the faint scent of metal, like sharpened blades kept too close.

Eventually, you stopped before a tall set of double doors.

“These are your rooms,” Ambessa said, pushing the door open.

The doors creaked on massive hinges, revealing a chamber far larger than you had anticipated. It was austere, like everything else in Noxus, but not unkind. A fire crackled in a broad hearth, warming the stone walls. There were thick covers on the bed, drapes at the tall windows, a polished desk, a large wardrobe already partially stocked with clothing clearly meant to be yours.

Across an entire wall was carved a relief of Noxian history: a battle scene, full of armoured warriors and conquest. Blood frozen in stone.

Ambessa entered behind you, slow and heavy-footed. She watched you take it in.

“Not to your taste?” the General asked, her voice low.

“It’s fine. Thank you,” you said genuinely. You had been expecting her to keep you in her rooms, her new little toy close at hand.

Ambessa moved further into the room. “You have your bathing suite,” she pointed to one door, “And your bedroom.”

You looked around, noting the layout. “And Siya?”

Ambessa was visibly unimpressed. “Your maid has a room, through there,” she pointed to another door to the side.

Suspicious, you walked over to it and inspected the room inside, pleasantly surprised. It was a bedroom, though smaller than the rest of your rooms, but at least it was clean, and had been decorated and furnished appropriately.

“There are guards posted just outside,” she said. “Your movements within the castle are not restricted. But you won’t leave the grounds without my permission and an escort.”

You nodded as you looked at the view across your balcony. That was a fairer arrangement than you’d expected.

Ambessa stepped closer – not to touch, but to loom. “You’ll be expected to learn our customs. Attend court and War Council meetings. Represent our union. You’ll be watched – not just by my people, but by my men.”

Your throat tightened. “What am I expected to be, exactly?”

Ambessa’s eyes flickered, not with surprise, but something sharper. “Mine.”

It wasn’t a romantic word, the way she said it. It was ownership. A claim laid bare.

“You’ll learn what that means,” she added.

You turned your back to her, if only to hide the sudden heat in your face – a mix of shame, anger, and something you didn’t want to name. You walked slowly toward the hearth, arms wrapped around yourself.

“I’d like to be alone,” you said softly, “Until Siya arrives with my belongings.”

Ambessa didn’t answer right away. The silence stretched.

“I’ll return later, little wife.”

Then the sound of boots, heavy against stone, retreating. The door closed behind her.

You let out a breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding. You sank slowly onto the chaise near the fire, your body folding inward. Your room – your gilded cage – flickered with firelight, shadows dancing across the carving of war.

You were alone.

The fire crackled softly in the bath suite’s hearth, casting shimmering gold over the bare stone walls of your new chamber. Outside, the wind moaned through the mountain corridors, but inside the bathing room – warm and dim with rising steam – there was a gentle hush.

You sat sunk to your shoulders in the deep, black marble tub, the water scented with your favourite lavender oil. Ambessa’s attentions on the journey had left you aching, your mind brittle. Here, at least, it was quiet. Here, you could almost forget the weight of her gaze. Almost.

Siya had come to your rooms not long after Ambessa had shown them to you. She unpacked what few belongings you had been allowed to bring: a few dresses and robes; some books; a pendant your mother had given you as a child. Now she knelt behind you, massaging your scalp as she washed your hair, knowing your moods well enough to know when to speak and when to simply be there.

After she bathed you in companionable silence, she held out one of your favourite robes. You stepped into it with a grateful smile, sitting comfortably on the platform surrounding the sunken bath.

With practiced ease, she poured a slow stream of oil into her hands and began to gently smooth it up and down your calves.

You relaxed under her hands, eyes closing, letting out a soft sigh.

Neither of you heard the outer door open.

It wasn’t until the thick wooden door to the bathing suite opened, without a knock, that the mood shifted.

Ambessa stepped inside.

She had discarded her armour, clad in a deep crimson sleeveless tunic and black pants, her long shadow filling the room with immediate weight. Her eyes went straight to you – half-dressed, flushed from the heat of the bathwater, seated with one foot resting on Siya’s knee – and then to Siya, still kneeling at your feet with oil-slicked hands on your skin.

The quiet hum of domesticity cracked.

Siya moved back immediately, bowing her head. “General-”

Ambessa didn’t speak at first. Her gaze lingered too long on your exposed legs, the shine of oil on your skin. She stepped forward slowly, as if challenging something unspoken.

“I’ll do that,” she said firmly, stepping forward and holding her hand out for the bottle.

Siya looked at you questioningly. She didn’t express it openly, but you knew her well enough to know what she was thinking: ‘is this woman serious?’

You nodded back tiredly at her. “It’s fine, Siya; if the General would like to, I’ll allow it.” You were too tired to argue.

Ambessa just chuckled as she took the bottle from Siya’s unimpressed hands when the other woman stepped back. “You’ll allow it, wife?”

“Do I not get to choose who attends me?”

Ambessa didn’t answer you. “You may go,” she ordered Siya.

Your closest – only – friend’s eyes met yours briefly, apologetic, uncertain, then she gave a tight nod and disappeared out into your outer room.

The door shut again.

Silence bloomed in her absence.

You turned toward Ambessa. “She’s only doing her job.”

Ambessa approached with the slow certainty of a lioness closing in on her prize. “Is that what it looked like to you?”

“What does it look like to you?” you snapped, folding your arms over your chest, suddenly conscious of how much skin was on display for her. “She’s my friend, my companion, my maid-of-honour. She’s attended me since we were-”

“She’s not your friend anymore,” Ambessa said flatly. “She’s your maid. My soldier. She does what I allow.”

There was a quiet moment, the kind of quiet that left you feeling more exposed than nudity ever had. Ambessa moved closer and knelt at your feet where Siya had been only moments before.

“You’re mine now,” the General said, voice low and deep, not angry but possessive. “Your skin is mine to touch. Your care is mine to provide.”

Without asking permission, Ambessa took your ankles into her hand, resting your feet on her thighs as you had done with Siya. Her grip was firm but not rough. She poured the remaining oil into her palm and began to massage it into your legs with slow, deliberate movements.

“So, you’re going to do this every night, are you?” you challenged, feeling a humiliated anger at Ambessa’s insinuations, at her insistence on corrupting your only friendship. “You’re going to take the time out of your day – morning and night – to dress and undress me; bathe me; oil me, arrange my hair…?”

“Don’t be bratty, child,” she scolded coldly.

You swallowed hard. “You know I’m right.”

Ambessa’s hands were larger than Siya’s, calloused from years of war, but there was surprising gentleness in her pressure. She worked the oil in with methodical focus, watching the path of her own hands, and the way your breath caught as she moved higher.

“You let her touch you like this?” Ambessa asked quietly.

“It’s not like that,” you insisted, somehow feeling weepy. Perhaps it was just the exhaustion of the past several days catching up to you.

Ambessa looked up at you then, sharp and still. “And what would you have let her do, if I hadn’t come in?”

“Ambessa…” you said tearily, shaking your head. “She’s my friend.”

The silence between you became heavier. Ambessa’s hands moved slowly up your thigh. Keeping her eyes on yours, she slid her hand dangerously close to your core.

“The oil doesn’t go there,” you bit, pushing her hand away, crossing your legs defensively.

She just chuckled. “My apologies, little one.”

You didn’t push back. Not tonight. You let Ambessa oil the rest of your legs in silence, each movement staking another claim.

The room had changed. The balance between you shifted, ever so slightly. And you weren’t sure what it meant.

Taglist: @sevikas-whore, @djstinkyfartz, @jinririz, @abbyandcaitlover, @ayuxiru, @bebeluvvv, @youdoyou-andiwilldome, @kittymrtnezz69, @wyprettylilone, @jlb20416, @autisticratbagtm, @theoreticalfreak, @riotstemple29, @zaunite-516, @zmbieeee, @godhatesgoodgirls, @yoyo-w, @milanyas, @unknownomgg, @bella-but-not-hadid444, @marvelwomenarehot0, @nenoino, @opalundercover, @beggingonmykneesforher, @qlelwow, @loneliestafterparty, @flowersareup, @niceminipotato, @fruitfulfashion, @dut1fuldyk3

[queersyourgender]

Could I request Frank Langdon and gn!reader comforting them after a particularly hard day at work

Good Things — Frank Langdon x GN!Reader

Notes: Helloooo there total stranger who is not also my bestie whom I roped into sending me a request as well!! Thank you so much for this excuse to write my favorite white boy ever being doted on. Warning for non-sexual nudity and mentions of car accidents, but that's about it!

———

It's well past 10 PM when you hear the key turn in the front door's lock. You spring up off the couch, your socked feet thudding against the wooden floor of your home as you quickly but quietly approach the door. Frank barely takes two steps inside before you're reaching for his things and taking the weight off his person.

“Hey, babe,” he greets you tiredly, and God, you ache at how absolutely exhausted he sounds. You'd seen the pileup on the news, you knew PTMC was going to get the brunt of the car crash victims. Still, you'd hoped he wouldn't come home dead on his feet this way.

“Hi, honey,” you reply softly, setting his bag aside and reaching up to kiss him. You let him lean on you entirely, wrapping your arms around his middle as he rests against you, shoulders sagged and eyelids heavy. “Are you okay? Was it bad?”

Frank smiles at you, fondness shimmering in his blue eyes as he shakes his head. “No, actually,” he tries to cheer you up by saying as he runs a hand through your hair. “I mean, the injuries were bad, yeah, but we barely lost anyone. Took a lot of fucking effort though.”

“I'll bet,” you murmur, nuzzling up to him as you try to carry as much of the invisible weight on his shoulders as you can. “Are you hungry? I just put the lasagna in the fridge, I can reheat it for you quickly.”

Frank hums, burying his face in the crook of your neck and letting you steady him as he sways slightly to the side. “Hm, maybe… But first, I desperately need to get the hell out of these clothes,” he tells you, pulling away with great difficulty. “The kids asleep?”

“Oh yeah, they're conked out,” you confirm, and giggle softly as he immediately takes that as his okay to start stripping right then and there at the entrance. He leaves a trail of clothes behind himself as he goes to set the bag you set aside for him away, and you smile in endearment. 

An idea strikes you and you (quietly) clap your hands together. “Oh! Let me run you a bath,” you tell him excitedly, racing past him and to the bathroom as you move to turn the hot water on before he could get redressed. “I'll put soaks for you and mood lighting and everything. It'll be so good.”

He smiles as he watches you flit about, grabbing the aforementioned bathwater soaps and those teeny tiny fake candles you like to keep on the top of the medicine cabinet. You can feel his amused eyes on you as you meticulously start arranging them around the edges of the bathtub, trying to make hearts with them yet not quite having the space.

“You're ridiculous,” Frank tells you, sidling up behind you and snaking a hand underneath the hem of your shirt. “Join me?”

You turn your head to the side and smile rather bashfully, nodding your agreement to the suggestion. He lets you go so you can take your clothes off, instead moving forward to step into the tub. You make haste, eager to start rubbing shampoo in his silky hair, and he snorts at you for it.

He sits back in the tub, and you settle in the space in front of him, fitting snugly between his legs and turning to face him. The tub isn't particularly big, but it's big enough to be comfortable, and that's all that matters to you right now. That's all you want for him.

Without even realizing it, you start humming softly as you pull him close, running your hands along the length of his spine. Carefully, you press where you know it's probably most sore, smiling apologetically when he first hisses in pain but then follows it up with a groan of relief.

“You're so good to me,” he breathes into your shoulder, which was now damp from the steam rising in the closed bathroom and encompassing you both whole. You smile and press a soft kiss behind his ear, right at the spot that makes him shiver.

“You deserve good things,” is all you say, and Frank's arms tighten around your waist, his response unspoken yet echoing off the tiles loud and clear.

[riddlesrizzler]

AHHH first of all congratulations on hitting 1k love!!! You are one of my favorite authors on this app, and to see you get the recognition you rightfully deserve is the best type of news!! If you aren’t too swamped with requests, I’d be honored if you’d write a small grumpy x sunshine drabble with Mattheo? I’m a hufflepuff and have always loved this type of trope and believe you’d do it justice 🥰💛 once again congratulations!! You deserve every ounce of praise given 💛

OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!! i am so glad that you enjoy my writing, i'm literally tearing up at your sweet words. 😭😭😭

also grumpy x sunshine? with MATTY???? you're asking me to write favorite thing so i hope you enjoy it!! 💗

He glares at the daisy crown in your hands like it might explode.

“You’re not actually going to put that on me.”

You grin, perched on the sun-warmed stone ledge near the edge of the courtyard, swinging your feet like you’ve got no idea that the boy beside you could reduce someone to ash with a glance. “You sat next to me. That means you consented to flower therapy.”

Mattheo exhales through his nose. “Is that a real thing or are you making that up?”

“Yes.”

He stares. “Which answer are you saying yes to?”

“All of it,” you chirp, scooting closer until your knee bumps his. “Hold still.”

He groans like you’ve just asked him to shave his head or admit he has feelings, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch. Just narrows his eyes and leans forward slightly, letting you place the daisy crown carefully over his curls. He’s muttering something under his breath the whole time-but it’s not a spell. Just barely-audible grumbling about “Hufflepuffs and their ridiculous joy cults.”

You bite your lip to keep from smiling too hard. He looks so annoyed. So miserable. And so stupidly pretty with flowers on his head.

“There,” you whisper like it’s sacred. “Perfect.”

His eyes flick up to yours-dark, unamused, and aching.

“You’re lucky I like you.”

You blink. “Like-like me, or tolerate-me-like me?”

A pause. His jaw clenches. And then:

“Sunshine,” he mutters, “if I didn’t like-like you, I wouldn’t let you put bloody daisies in my hair.”

You beam.

And when you lean in and kiss his cheek-just the tiniest little peck-he doesn’t even complain. Not really.

Just turns his head, grabs your hand, and grumbles, “You’re never telling anyone about this.”

But he’s still wearing the crown when you leave. And he doesn’t take it off.

[kpopsexstories]

QUICK FIX GAY #19: BTS Taehyung x TXT Beomgyu (Big Brother, Little Brother)

This is a 100% gay story. Check out this post for my straight smut and this post for more gay smut.

Pairing: BTS Taehyung x TXT Beomgyu

Content: Taehyung is trying to train his new dog but Beomgyu is needy and jealous. Gay, Missionary

Type of Sex: MEDIUM

Word Count: 1,555

Big Brother, Little Brother gay "Quick Fix" stories: An older and younger male k-pop idol are doing it. They refer to each other as "brothers" and the short stories in this collection showcase various funny or hot smut scenarios.

Taehyung sat on the floor, legs crossed and wearing short shorts and a loose tank top. He was playing with a dog who had no name, trying but failing to teach the cute guy new tricks.

Beomgyu stood behind him. He repeatedly poked his hyung on the shoulder while pouting his lips, but got no response. Taehyung was dead set on ignoring his annoying ‘little brother’.

“Dance,” Taehyung said and held up a treat in the air.

“Why doesn't he move?” Beomgyu asked. Taehyung didn't respond.

“Dance, dammit!” he said. “Yeontan used to do this all the time, why won't you?”

It wasn't the poor creature Taehyung was frustrated with though. It was Beomgyu.

“Yeontan’s dead,” Beomgyu pointed out. It was a terrible and abrupt joke, and a desperate attempt to make Taehyung pay attention to him. But it was also completely true and Taehyung couldn't blame him.

The older brother turned around and faced his friend, still holding the treat in front of him. “I know!” he said sternly, and pretended to start to cry. Beomgyu presented his puppy face, silently trying to get Taehyung to open his heart.

Taehyung smiled. Beomgyu kept pouting. This game between them had been going on for years.

“I'm sorry,” Beomgyu said. “I know you miss him. But I miss you. Will you please just have sex with me?”

The straight-forward request made Taehyung chuckle. “If I do will you finally leave me alone?”

Beomgyu's face lit up. “Yeah,” he said happily.

“Alright,” Taehyung said and playfully rolled his eyes. “Take your clothes off and let's get this over with.”

Beomgyu laughed out loud. He knew Taehyung wasn't actually just doing it because he demanded it. Meanwhile, as the two men teased and joked with each other, the dog who wasn't Yeontan stood on two legs and did a full circle, dancing like never before. Too bad no one ever saw it.

Taehyung faced the dog again and reached for it. He grabbed it and stood up, and carried it out of the room. He put it on the floor and quickly closed the door, to give Beomgyu and himself some privacy.

Yeontan had seen it all. But there was no need to scar such a young pup for life.

Beomgyu was ecstatic but never stopped pouting. Standing tall and stiff he watched as Taehyung dropped the dog and returned. When their eyes met, he quickly pulled down his pants. Taehyung snickered, chuckled and rolled his eyes.

*****

Beomgyu's face was pressing down on the bed. His knees were spread wide and his ass in the air. Taehyung was fucking him good from behind, grunting and panting while pulling at the younger brother's hips.

When he suddenly pulled out, Beomgyu immediately flipped around. He smiled happily when he spread his legs, and Taehyung came to lie on his side between them.

They hugged tight and kissed. Taehyung's weight was on Beomgyu's thigh. He was leaning on an elbow and had an arm around Beomgyu's back, to prevent himself from rolling backwards.

Their bodies rubbed closely against each other. They rolled their hips, pulled at each other and pressed their lips, chests and groins together.

They continued to make out with passion. They occasionally opened their eyes and smiled but mostly kept them closed and moaned softly.

Taehyung grabbed Beomgyu's ass and squeezed it. Beomgyu wrapped his leg around Taehyung's thigh. The passionate grinding and kissing was so hot and made them both incredibly hard and aroused.

Eventually Taehyung couldn't take it any longer. He badly needed to be back inside his friend and reached in between their bodies. He grabbed his cock to guide it, while Beomgyu pushed his ass into the mattress at an angle.

Their bodies froze, as the dickhead played around near Beomgyu's hole. Their eyes met and they stared at each other, while the head slowly expanded the rim.

Beomgyu let out a low gasp. Taehyung was holding his breath. Then, when the head was all the way in, he relaxed and gently thrust his hip forward.

Beomgyu's eyes widened. He sighed deeply, and enjoyed every second of the slow, passionate penetration. Taehyung's dick always felt so good.

When the shaft slid in Taehyung let it go, and reached behind Beomgyu's back again. He caressed and stroke it, feeling the soft skin. Beomgyu did the same, gently touching Taehyung's arms and shoulders.

They lay like this for several minutes, partially sideways in each other's arms, slowly rocking their bodies back and forth. The dick felt slick and Beomgyu quickly got used to the wonderful sensation. Being fucked by his brother undisturbed, when they could focus fully on each other, was a rare treat.

Except Taehyung wasn't a hundred percent focused on his lover. His mind was still on the dog, which sat patiently and confused outside the door.

Perhaps that's why the sex got wilder. With each slow thrust Taehyung picked up the pace slightly, and maybe he was just eager to finish. The increase was exponential, but soon the dick was sliding in and out fast.

The penetration was superficial at first, but Beomgyu started pushing his pelvis higher, causing the dick to go deeper. He matched Taehyung's pace and they found a sensational rhythm, where the head rubbed Beomgyu in just the right spot and the depth was so perfect it made Taehyung's eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Ahhh,” he exclaimed and temporarily pulled his lips away from Beomgyu's. The aroused moan sent a rush of excitement and pleasure through Beomgyu's body.

Their hands and arms stiffened. They held each other tighter, and entangled their limbs further. They pressed their faces together and grimaced, as the sex reached a new level and the bed started shaking violently.

Taehyung began to pant loudly. “Ahh, ahh, ahh, ahh!” he said repeatedly, Beomgyu feeling his warm breath on his skin.

“Mm, mm, mm, mm!” Beomgyu whined, his need for intimacy and attention finally met.

“Ahh, ahh, ahh, ahh! Mmmmmmm, fu-uck!” Taehyung groaned.

“Mm, mm, mm, mmmmm!” Beomgyu continued.

“Woof, woof!” a sad little puppy barked outside. “Woof, woof!”

“Mm, mm, Namjachingu!”

Taehyung briefly froze. “What?” he asked and opened his eyes. He pulled his head back and stared at his friend, then slowly picked up his thrusts again, never fully stopping.

“That should be his name,” Beomgyu said with a grin.

“You want me to name my dog ‘boyfriend’?”

“Ye- mm, mm, yeah. He gets more attention from you than I do.”

Taehyung chuckled. “You're my brother though, not my boyfriend.”

“What’s the difference?”

Taehyung's chuckle turned into a grin of hopelessness. Beomgyu was so silly. “Oh just shut up and take my dick,” he said and gave Beomgyu a naughty smile, and shoved his cock in hard and deep.

They both closed their eyes again and returned to the hot sex. Beomgyu relaxed and enjoyed the amazing sensation. Taehyung went back to thrusting fast. His arm and elbow were starting to hurt though, and it was time to finish this before he'd run out of steam.

“Woof, woof!”

The loud groans and panting returned. The bed started slamming against the wall. Beomgyu moaned and Taehyung grunted, and the dog kept barking and complaining just behind the door.

If the dog wasn't a distraction before, it made Taehyung want to finish even sooner now. He focused his mind on the tight sensation around the dick. He squeezed and touched Beomgyu's sexy body, and focused his thoughts on how great it felt to hold and fuck him.

“Ahh, Ahh, Ahh,” he kept panting. “Ahh, Ahh, Aaahhhh!”

Beomgyu opened his eyes and mouth wide.

“Aaahhhh, AAAAHHHHH!”

Taehyung's whole body jumped.

“Mmmmmmm, MMMMMMM,” Beomgyu said through clutched teeth for Taehyung's pleasure.

Taehyung jolted again. “AAAHHHH, HHMMMPFHHH, UUUUHHHHMMRGGH!”

“Mm, yeah, yeah, Namjachingu!”

Taehyung chuckled when he emptied his dick in Beomgyu's silly and annoying ass. “Ahhh, Haaaah, ahhhhh.”

He slowed down and started to breathe heavily.

“Ahhhh, huuuuuu! Fuck, that was incredible.”

Beomgyu was pleased with himself. He smiled wide, happy to not only have been satisfied by his hyung, but to have given the older brother such a wonderful release. No dog could ever do that, not even the late, great Yeontan.

Taehyung slowly pulled out, his weight lifting from Beomgyu's thigh. Beomgyu grimaced when the head popped out, then smiled wide when he saw Taehyung's flustered body and expression.

“Happy now?” Taehyung asked, but he got out of bed before Beomgyu could reply.

“Yeah, but I didn't come yet,” he said and watched as Taehyung walked naked to the door.

“God, so demanding,” Taehyung teased when he opened it.

The dog who shall not be named immediately rushed in. It ran around the room then jumped up on Taehyung's legs just as he returned to the bed. When he sat down on it, the dog leaped up to join them.

Taehyung tried to grab and lift it, but it slipped out of his hands. It attacked his chest and arm with its tongue, then turned and went to town on Beomgyu's face.

Beomgyu giggled and gently tried to defends himself. Taehyung couldn't stop smiling, and came to lie next to his little brother.

“Namjachingu,” he said and looked first at the dog, then at Beomgyu.

“Namjachingu,” Beomgyu said and his eyes glistened.

[gophergal]

Uhm

Uhm

I would like some uhm

Helmet party

Por favor?

Not only I am very crazy abt them but I need something happy (not rn but I like happy things and they make me feel happy)

So, uh

I would like some Helmet party, por favor.

They're flying high

[wannaeatramyeon]

You really said that you don't have any plans of writing any other series and then dropped this ✨masterpiece✨ (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍���)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

BISHHHH! IT WAS SOOOO GOOD. I WAS SKEPTICAL AT FIRST BUT THEN AGAIN IT WAS YOU WRITING. I LOVED IT 💜💜💜

also can I be 🕊️ anon?

Hope yall don't mind me responding to these in one go. Also please note my anon tagging is terrible but I do remember all my anons! I think I'll probably do this batch format moving forward? I SUCK at conversations through the inbox but also a) don't want to be rude 😅 and b) clog up people's dash.

+ Tip - filter 'ramen asks' tags in your settings if you're just here for the fics.

Non fic-request asks answered: 7 (you might want to check if your asks are here anons!)

🕊️ anon! Thank you for reading! You are being much too kind. I really had no plans to write anything long and uh... the nthis happened. It's ALWAYS good to have a healthy dose of skepticism though haha. I. I just. Idk how I feel about my longer fics at all but I'm glad you're enjoying them!

Anon?! Ah that's so sweet to say and I'm glad my fics are accessible for you!I don't struggle so much with focusing, but there are some formats and fonts that I really find difficult to read. Give me a shout especially with regards to format/font side if things ever deviate with my writing and I'll try to correct it!

Goo brainrot anon, you know who you are with your exquisite taste 🫶

And on my other response that Goo brings out our feral sides, and imo also has the most feral simps... Would be hilarious to watch you guys in a cagematch for Goo's affection. And you KNOW he would love that. 2A style.

I'm sorry this is actually our sweet Ying's/@mymxnfgh hc which you can read here. I don't want to just steam roll ahead with her idea especially if she reads HTF! Hope you understand.

Babe, I'm completely with you. I wrote this about Eli but really to go on about WTF is happening with his character and plot. Fuck 5A man.

Answering this like... a month late but we're still waiting lol. YES THE ADIDAS SAMBAS! I saw the theory too. I'm not 100% sure if Jake fits but I will just take whatever crumbs of my No.1 green flag PTJ will give!

Anon I am so so sorry for my super late response. Have you watched the PTJ video from a while ago where he talks about Samuel's charming chest? I think you may like that.

Anon, your opinion on Vasco is perfectly valid AND CORRECT. Altho our lil cinnamonroll is at least getting a personality lately so I can't be too mad.

[starkeyszn]

MISS POSSESSIVE ⌇

pairing: rafe cameron x wife!reader

inspo + credits: angelitaaaaaa on c.ai

mr cameron and mrs cameron, both very well known people on kildare island. you and rafe have been married for 3 years, and have been looking to get a new house. rafe wants the best for you both, and has hired the woman who states she’s only had ‘positive feedback and experiences’ on her cv.

“so for the kitchen, i definitely want an island-”

the ringing of a cell-phone made you pause mid-sentence, looking up to rafe. he pulls his cell-phone out of his pocket, “i’ve got to take this, i’ll be right back.” he says, kissing your temple before he excuses himself.

you watch him with a smile, as he exits the room, before you turn your attention to the woman in-front of you. you take a step forward, eyeing her up and down, before leaning against the side of the table. your left hand planting itself on the surface, the diamond on your wedding ring sticking out, glistening in the sunlight.

you look up to woman, eyes narrowing slightly, “chloe,” you begin, your voice dripping with faux sweetness. “it is chloe, right?”

she wrings her hands together, nodding her head, you notice she goes to open her mouth, you cut her off before she can get a word in, “i’m sure you’re- very good, at what you do. otherwise, rafe wouldn’t have asked for you to be here, and for your input.”

“but—please stop speaking to my husband, as if i’m not here.” your eyes narrow, locking in onto the woman’s.

her eyes widen, but she shook it off, looking away for a second. murmuring your name, “miss, i have designed many successful projects.”

“you may call me mrs cameron.” you interject, before she could continue. “and this is not just going to be one of your ‘successful’ projects, this is going to be our home. if you want to keep your job, i suggest you stop fluttering your eyelashes at my husband, and keep your hands to yourself.”

you see the woman visibly stiffen, not expecting a confrontation. her face slowly draining it’s colour. she swallows, before you continue, “or you can go and climb back in to your tacky coloured car, and drive back to washington, take your pick.”

“well, i’m so sorry, mrs cameron, because i would never-” she was quick to cut herself off, noticing rafe re-entering the room, looking up from his phone as he placed it back into his pocket.

his brow raises, glancing between the women. sensing some tension in the air, as you slip off the table. “everything okay?” he asks, his arm finding its place on your waist.

“peachy.” you nodded, smiling to him.

the interior designer shifted her gaze from you to rafe, her expression morphing into a forced smile. she cleared her throat before speaking. “everything is fine, mr cameron.”

rafe studied her for a brief moment, his blue eyes narrowing as he still could feel the unspoken tension. his hand on your waist tightened slightly, almost possessively, as he kept you close to him. “good.”

chloe seemed abit flustered by his intense gaze, but she was quick to compose herself, remembering your words, and redirecting her attention to the house plans laided out on the table.

you had a smile on your face, knowing she wouldn’t make eyes to rafe again, as she kept taking deep breaths, and keeping her eyes focused on the house plans.

STARKEYSZN — i saw this and absolutely loved it, i think it’s a fifty shades of grey reference? but i’m not entirely sure… : requests are open ╱ anon emojis are open

[savanir]

The What Corps?

“we have you now spook! there is nowhere you can run and hide with our new spectral tethers active!”

Danny winces at the small metal clips that have hooked themselves in his leg, some new GIW tech that is messing with his powers.

“oh yeah? I was just dying for you guys to give me a challenge” plan. plan. He's gotta think of a plan to get out of here and fast. He takes a steadying breath and starts to look for anything that can help him.

he can’t get caught here. He just can't. He simply won’t allow himself.

suddenly the two GIW goons in front of him click their earpieces to clearly listen to what someone else is telling them, Danny is very glad for his own enhanced senses.

“Operatives K and O, be advised, there have been sightings of a new ectoplasmic entity near your location. Other operatives report that it’s incredibly small and moves fast. watch your backs, this may be an ambush”

small and fast? it better not be some poor little blob ghost, Danny sort of hopes it’s some manner of ectowasp, at least that could be entertaining to see.

“you better not be hoping for back up, ecto scum”

“I have no idea what you are talking about”

It's then that a small bright green light zips on scene and weaves through crowds in the distance with ease and then speeds up towards the two operatives who do not hesitate to shoot, missing completely like the storm troopers they are.

Whatever it is, it is indeed going very fast but Danny manages to figure out what it looks like and it appears to be a… ring?

“hold it you tiny accessory shaped ecto fiend!”

The ring does a speedy circle around Operative O while K is lining up a shot and ends up blasting the poor guy point blank in his face, “O!”

Danny takes a step forward with an arm outstretched and a “oh damn! Are you alright?” on his lips when the ring takes the chance to slip on his finger. “Daniel Fenton of Earth”

Danny already had a freakout about a ghost jewelry getting on him, his experiences with those so far have been incredibly bad after all, what with the rings and crowns and pendants… now this damn thing is just straight up outing him! 

Thank the ancients the two GIW stooges are too busy with each other right now to pay close attention to what this weird ring is saying.

“You have the ability to overcome great fear” ah so this is related to him steeling himself just now? Maybe? or something??

You have been chosen” never good, we are back to freaking out again.

“Welcome to the green lantern corps” 

… the what?

Danny notices that his usual outfit suddenly has more green going on, and his DP symbol has some sort of… he guess it’s supposed to be a lantern, maybe? shape around it.

He’s somehow even more glowy now, and there is something on his face. Feeling its shape makes him think it’s some sort of mask.

The metal clip things are no longer attached to his legs though so that’s great!

“You’re not getting away so easily ecto scum! sentient ghost paraphernalia coming to your rescue or no!” They both aim their weapons to take a shot.

Danny figures he can now easily hold them back with his usual shields,“you guys realize you just called this weird ring sentient and thereby negate the whole nonsentie-ack!”

“Attacking a corps lantern is punishable offense as of the instatement of the galactic diplomatic immunity as declared by the-” Okay so now Danny is just raising his eyebrow at this weird as fuck ring. Just what is it going on about?

“notifying nearby lanterns and requesting assistance with apprehension of hostiles”

what?

“getting your friends to help you out vile spook? such a thing is useless with the Blackout still very much in place”

Well… the two streaks of green light in the distance is making Danny doubt that statement.

Maybe there is more to this Lantern corps thing than he thought… And something tells him his life is about to get even more complicated than it already is.

[tbaluver]

hello author! i hope ur doing good! i would like to request a scenario wherein the dad!lads are leaving for work but their little ones don’t want them to go while clutching onto their legs. how would each of them react in that situation? i need more domestic dad! lads huhuhu thank u <3

Papa Don't Go!- The Love And DeepSpace Men

featuring ( in order ): xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb genre: fluff fluff summary: their child(ren) cling onto their leg before they go to work a/n: hihi anonnie! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i hope you're doing good too luv! no rafayel's were harmed in the writing process of this (°ロ°) i hope this was alright and that you enjoy reading! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

The front door creaks open with a groan, making it echo through the quiet house. The noise was enough to stir your son from his peaceful nap. His little eyelids fluttered open, still heavy with so much sleep as he rubbed them with his chubby little fists. He thinks he must’ve slept for a while, and hearing the door open, that means Papa Xavier must be heading to work!

With the tiniest yawn, he carefully slipped out of the low bed, his small feet barely making a sound as they padded softly across the floor. Still half asleep, he staggered toward the door, sleepily shuffling as he wandered out of the room.

Sleepily, your son pads across the floor, his tiny feet making soft thuds as he reaches Xavier’s side. He tugs at the hem of Xavier’s pants, “Papa stay?” He asked with a sleepy smile.

Xavier’s heart melted at the sight. He crouched down to meet his son’s gaze, brushing his large hand gently through his soft, disheveled hair. “I wish I could..But I have to go. You can stay with mommy, okay? Let’s get you back to mom-” Before he can even finish his sentence, he feels a tiny weight against his leg, his son’s arm wrapping around his calf. Xavier’s breath hitched as his son tried to tighten and he looked down to see his little boy with the most adorably pitiful pout.

“noo..stay with me and mama..” His voice muffled as he hid his face in his pants uniform.

Xavier froze for a moment, his chest tightening. He couldn’t help but smile through the lump that had formed in his throat. “I have to go, but it won’t take long. I promise.” He murmurs, leaning down to gently peel the boy off his leg, but pauses when he hears light snoring.

Xavier let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. Carefully, he scoops his son into his arms and carries him back to bed, where you were still sleeping peacefully. He tucks you both in, pressing a kiss to your forehead before finally turning back to the door.

Zayne:

Getting to work had become manageable to say so at the least. Zayne had mastered the art of slipping out of your iron grip each morning that was refined over time. But with a new addition to the family, mornings had grown a little more difficult. He’d started leaving an hour earlier just in case there were any tears that spilled and some clinging that he assumes that she gets from you.

However, nothing could have prepared him for this morning.

Just as he reached for the front door, tiny feet pads quickly toward him and tiny arms wrap tightly around his legs, keeping him frozen in place.

“papa, don’t go..” came a soft, sleepy whine. Her voice was muffled against his pant leg, her eyes were barely open, but surprisingly, her little hands grasped him tightly. He sighed, his chest tightening as he closed his eyes for a moment before kneeling to her level.

“My love,” he murmurs gently, brushing a few wild strands of hair from her face. “I have to go. It’s too early for you to be awake right now. You should be sleeping.” he tried to gently unwind her arms from his legs, but the moment he did, she lunged forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him even tighter. The sudden squeeze made him let out a soft, surprised chuckle.

“Can I go with you?” she asked, her lower lip trembling. He smiles softly, shaking his head as he places a kiss on her forehead.

“I’m afraid you’re not on my shift today,” he said with a quiet laugh. “You’re scheduled to stay here and be with your mother.”

She clung to him, blinking up at him as she thinks for a moment. “Can you make sure to take care of her while I’m gone?”

She hesitates for a moment, then gives him a solemn little nod as if accepting a very important mission. He held her close for one last hug before scooping her up in his arms and carrying her back to bed. He tucked her gently beside you.

Leaning down, he presses a kiss to her forehead, then yours. And with one last look, he slipped out the door, hoping the day would finish quickly.

Rafayel:

Rafayel crouches down, arms wide open as his kids run straight into them. He scoops them up into a group hug, squeezing them close as he presses soft kisses to the tops of their heads, letting out a heavy sigh after.

“I’m sorry my little guppies..papa has to go now.” His voice tinged with sadness.

He stood up slowly as if the act of physically parting from his family weighed him down, which it in fact did. Tonight, he was off to an exclusive art exhibition—one to which only artists and collectors were invited. He wished to bring you and the kids along, but Thomas had made it clear, no guests.

As he makes his way to the door, one of his kids jumped at him from behind while the other two rushed in from either side and wrapped themselves tightly around his legs.

“You-!”

“WAHHHH DON’T GO PAPAA,” one of them wails, their voice quivering. “Yeah! Don’t go!” Another joins, clinging even tighter to his pant leg.

Rafayel gasps, wobbling unsteadily. “Wait..my legs-!” He staggers, then drops dramatically to his knees, the child on his back now riding his shoulders. You watch from the back, already knowing where this is going. This isn’t the first time the kids have staged something like this to keep Rafayel home.

Raf groans again, throwing the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically. “Oh no..I think I twisted something..my ankle..yeah, it’s definitely sprained..I can’t go to work now..”

The kids gasped. One let out a delighted, “YAYYY” clearly only hearing the part about him not going to work. The other frowns, eyes wide with concern. “Are you okay, papa?” She asks softly, patting his legs as if it were to make him feel better. “Does this help?”

He groans a little louder, but hides the corner of his mouth that’s curling into a smile. “I think..I think I should stay home with my guppies today. What do you guys think?”

Instantly, cheers erupted, and tiny arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace. He was quickly buried under a pile of laughter and squeals, not caring how mad Thomas was going to be tonight.

Sylus:

“sweetie-”

“no.”

This had been going on for at least five minutes. Sylus had to hand it to her—his daughter was nothing if not persistent. She stood firm in what she thought was right while clinging stubbornly to his pant leg like it would hold him down.

If she kept this up for a while longer, Sylus would’ve started to accept the fact that his daughter might actually win this round. It was quite adorable that she thinks she’s able to stop him, and in a way, she kind of was. She was one of his soft spots, just like you. He was honestly impressed.

With a chuckle, he closed his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. His little dove is just like her mother. “You really don’t want to make this easy for me, hm?”

She met his gaze and gave a fierce little adorable nod, her white pigtails bouncing. “Well, how about a deal? What’s it going to take for you to let go?”

“Stay.” She says softly, tilting her head. “Mommy and I will be sad if you go to work.” Her voice softened into a pout, eyes wide.

Sylus’s smile deepened, “Sweetie,” he said gently, “Mommy’s strong even when I’m not here. Do you think you can be strong like her? Just for a little while?”

She hesitates for a moment, lips twitching as she considers it. Slowly, her arms uncurl from his leg. “Okay, papa..” she murmurs, looking away, defeatedly. Her bottom lip jutted out in a pout.

With a soft sigh, he cups her small cheeks with his large hands, thumb brushing over her skin. “Hey..Since you were so good..” He said teasingly, “How about I bring back something special for you?” Her eyes immediately lit up.

“And for mommy too?!” She bounced, clapping her little hands. Sylus richly laughs, pulling her into his arms to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. Maybe that love she has for you is a part of him that she carries.

“Of course.”

Caleb:

Caleb chuckles when he feels the sudden grip of small arms wrap tightly around his legs. “Hey, c’mon, don’t make this harder for your old pops,” he says with a soft laugh, adjusting the brim of his colonel’s cap.

He bends slightly, reaching down to ruffle their hair, but both kids turn their faces into his legs, refusing to let go. A smile curls on his lips, his eyes fluttering closed for just a second. These are the moments that remind him that he’s done something right as a father.

“Alright, alright, you guys got me,” he says, playing along. “So..what’ll it take to get clearance for takeoff?”

The two exchange a glance as identical grins break across their faces. “Let’s do airplanes again, Dad!” his son shouts. “Yeah! Lift us up, daddy!” his daughter joins in.

Caleb lifts them both up into the air with ease. They squeal and giggle, their laughter echoing throughout the house as they soar around the living room. Caleb grins wide, watching them float, their fingertips grazing the ceiling.

“This is your captain speaking,” he announces in his nice pilot voice. “Captain Caleb is assisting two very important co-pilots on their path.” They glide and spin around the air until, with his careful guidance, they come in for a soft landing in your waiting arms.

“Wha-dad!” his son protests, attempting to be free from your arms, only to be gently held back by a gravitational nudge.

Caleb approaches, ruffling their hair before planting a kiss on each little forehead. “Alright, co-pilots,” he says, crouching to meet their eyes. “Your mission now is to stay on land with mom while I keep my eyes on the sky. Think you can handle that?” The children hesitate, then nod slowly.

He straightens, meeting your eyes. “I'll be home soon. I promise.” His hand lingers on your cheek as he gives you a long, lingering kiss.

From below, you both, two small voices groan in unison. “ewwww!” He chuckles against your lips, pulling back with a grin on his face. Even pilots need a little fuel before takeoff.

ʚɞ cr. for the divider @/ cafekitsune

ʚɞ beta read by @ilovemitsuya MWAH ♡(˃͈ ˂͈ )

ʚɞ 𝘕𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯:

ʚɞ my other works if you want to check it out! The Love And DeepSpace Masterlist, Pg. 2

ʚɞ Others places you can find me:

Wattpad

Twitter ( but idk how to use it or interact with people )

[vasito-de-leche]

I love, LOVE your characterization of the Saja Boys, and while I know you’ve only written complete dating hcs for Baby and Abs, I was hoping if it was okay if I could request something with the Saja Boys (separately) where it follows the prompt “you're about to argue but you're so pretty that his brain short circuits”? If you don’t want to write for all of them, then maybe you could do Baby and Abs (separately)?

;KPOP DEMON HUNTERS SAJA BOYS - "Too Pretty"

Saja Boys (separate) x Reader 2.5k words silly, fluff Being a demon's soft spot has its benefits. Who would've thought?

i'm so glad you like the way I write them!! this prompt sounded so fun, I just had to try my hand at it, thank you!

this also served as a way for me to slowly figure out how I'd like to characterize the other members o7 I tried to keep the relationship vague enough to be read as whatever people want, so hope that comes across well enough. also also, dont let these dramatic edgy idols fool you, all drabbles end up being silly and cute

JINU

"Are you even listening, Jinu?"

He is, of course. But he'd rather not, especially when you're getting worked up over nothing; so much for escaping an endless cycle of torture in the underworld, he now has to deal with a brand new mess, pacing behind him like a madman. By now, you've probably noticed the monotonous and non-committal answers he's been giving on loop.

"Uh-huh," Jinu's eyes never stray from the notebook in front of him, attempting to come up with a better verse for an upcoming song. And he knows he's fucked up when he hears you groan, stomping towards him.

"Okay, okay. Maybe I stopped listening abooout ... five or ten minutes ago, who's counting, but--"

Your hand comes into view, fast as lighting, and he can only look as you snatch the notebook away from him. Great, awesome.

There goes the perfect verse in his head. He remains frozen for a moment, the hand holding a pen still hovering over the now empty spot on his desk until your voice reaches him once more.

"If you're not going to listen, at least tell me so I don't waste my time talking to you."

Jinu slouches in his seat, raising both hands to cover his face, before sliding them upwards to slick back his hair in a feeble attempt at regaining his composure. You can't even see him from this angle, his back turned to you, but he still rolls his eyes.

You want to argue? Get it out of your system? Fine, he can give you the fight you want.

In one swift motion, his position changes; now he's straddling the chair, a powerplay he's come to master after bickering with his own band for so long, eyes closed as he prepares to deliver a devastating comeback to rile you up. But when he looks up, the golden glow in his eyes wavers--you're standing so close in front of him, looking down at his seated form with your arms crossed, as if daring him to speak.

He doesn't, and you tilt forwards, hair cascading over him so that the only thing he can focus is your face in this one-sided glaring contest.

Jinu has seen you at your best and your worst, but this is the first time he's found himself at the other end of your undivided attention and anger. It is as intimidating as it is alluring. What are you doing to him? Is this allowed? His neck feels hot, his face feels hot. The room feels like it's on fire, but not the same type of hellfire he's grown used to; it's a different sort of warmth, equal parts shame and pleasure as he takes in the sight. His lips part without him noticing, whispering ever so gently.

"Pretty ..."

"What was that?" Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

"Shitty. I said you look. Shitty. As in, you look like shit. Being angry isn't doing you any favors, you know? You should get some rest, okay. Byeee."

Without giving you any time to react, Jinu fumbles over his words, trips over your furniture and he stumbles out of your apartment in a rush, almost breaking into a sprint for the elevator. It's only when the doors close that he allows himself to breathe in and out, finally noticing the extra passenger inside with him. His bird companion chirps smugly, and Jinu groans into his palms.

"I don't want to talk about it."

ROMANCE

"I didn't mean it like that!"

Romance scoffs at your words, still refusing to leave his room. All the heart shaped decorations seem to mock him as he leans his full weight against the door, easily preventing you from entering no matter how hard you try to rattle the doorknob.

Both of you find yourself at the edge of an argument, and the decision to escalate things lies solely on his hands. He knows this because he can practically hear the affection in your words, even as you whine and tell him to get over himself to talk to you, face to face. That alone is enough to make Romance's chest tighten--no matter how many times he does this, this game of push and pull, you still make sure to chase after him time and time again.

Surely you must be reaching your breaking point; nobody is strong enough to withstand this much heartbreak. Maybe if he tries a little harder, you'll realize that there's nothing good in a future with him.

All he has to do is stay silent and wait for you to leave.

"Then what did you mean?" His voice is whiny, it always is. But you always insist that you love that about him, the way he feels so deeply about everything.

"You really want to argue about something like this?" You're right, you usually are--he's making things difficult when he's not even officially yours. "Well, I don't. So you can call me once you've cooled off."

And just like that, it's quiet; there's no more pressure pushing against him from the other side of the door, no more cutesy nicknames and attempts at coercing him out. Romance's heart drops, and he practically claws his way out, torn between cursing you out for proving him right and leaving, or begging you to take him back and sort everything out as if he hadn't been the one to start this. He's taken only a single step out of the threshold of his sanctuary when your smile greets him--you're leaning casually against the door frame, pretending to inspect your nails.

"So, are you done brooding all by yourself, handsome?"

That playful grin renders Romance speechless; the contrast of your casual attitude against his frenzied panic is impossible to ignore, he's gone through all five stages of grief in under a minute while your trust in him never wavered. Absence truly makes the heart grow fonder because there's a glint in your eyes that tugs at his heartstrings, wild strands of hair that he'd love to twirl in his fingers and kiss ever so gently. Romance knows that you'll let him if he asks for permission, and a knot forms in his throat, face flushed bright pink.

"No." It's all he manages to squeak out before closing the door once more.

"Rommie! Are you mad at me or not?!"

"I don't??? Know??? I need a moment! Just stay there!"

ABBY

"That's the last time I take you anywhere. You can't just pick a fight like that, Abby!" Abby sinks even deeper into the plush cushions of the couch as you continue to scold him, as if his sulking and his silence could single-handedly help him win this argument.

He's already found himself a comfortable spot, but you're still fussing about the living room, throwing your shoes to the side, sending your jacket flying onto the backrest of the sofa, pausing to drink and slamming the glass on the counter a little harder than necessary. Abby knows better than to try and stop you, so he stays put, waiting for his opening.

"What if anyone saw? Did you even think about that? The amount of trouble you'd be in?"

Those are all very good questions that he never bothered to consider; in fact, he still refuses to think about the consequences. There's no point in doing so when you managed to pull him away before he could do any damage to anyone, or to his own reputation as an idol.

"Like they'd even care," Abby huffs, trying to blow a strand of hair out of his eyes. "Just catching a glimpse of us outside is enough to make everyone turn a blind eye, it's almost too easy to work the crowd. One flex of these guns and any broken noses will be totally forgotten."

He makes an attempt to flex said guns, but he finds you looming over him from behind the couch, your grasp on his wrists as steady as death. There is a wild look in your expression, one he can't quite understand, but he finds it impossible to tear his eyes away from you. Getting to play the part of guard dog for you comes as easy as breathing, Abby can't get enough of the little tells that give you away, letting him know that you enjoy his antics--but it never crossed his mind that the tables could be reversed like this.

"Fine, let me put it this way! What if you got in trouble or worse, what if you got hurt? Ever thought of that one? Just because you're an all mighty demon doesn't mean you're--"

"You're hot when you're mad." He blurts out.

"I--What?"

A chance to rectify his mistake is presented to him, and he immediately pivots away from it when you blink your pretty eyes at him in confusion. "I said that you're hot when you're--"

"I heard you the first time, Abby. It's just--were you listening to what I was saying?" Okay, this is his chance to steer the conversation back on track. It's very easy, he just has to--

"If I say no, will you scold me some more?"

"Oh my God. Abby. Nevermind."

MYSTERY

Arguing with you is a rare occurrence.

But so is speaking to you, or engaging in any sort of conversation at all with anyone. This is one of the many perks that came with his role as the cool, mysterious and aloof member of the Saja Boys; anything he didn't feel like addressing could be easily swept under the rug and left ignored for centuries. This had been Mystery's modus operandi for years, and he wasn't planning on changing it any time soon.

You, on the other hand, were the opposite, filling the silence he often sought so desperately, until your voice became background noise in his life, a constant, confusing and somewhat comforting presence that simply followed him around.

Mystery still remembers the first time he deigned himself to reply, something off-handed that didn't matter at all, and yet you clung to his every word and went the extra mile to include him in your one-sided talks. It took a long time for the demon to get used to this, and an even longer time to acknowledge the fact that he enjoys the sound of your laughter, way better than the miserable voices crawling in the back of his mind.

Which is why the claustrophobic and oppressive silence lingering in the room irks him to no end. You're supposed to be talking, not playing hard to get or ignoring him over a stupid argument; the way you brush past him, barely acknowledging his existence as you go about your day is getting under his skin in ways he never knew were possible.

And then, for a fleeting second, you meet his gaze--this moment lasts for an eternity in his eyes, and he opens his mouth to speak, to seize the opportunity and break the ice, but before he can get a single word out, you turn around and begin to scroll through your phone. That's the last straw.

Mystery stands up and forces himself into your peripheral, hands firmly planted on the wall, trapping you in.

For the first time in forever, he wants to scream, to bark, to growl and give you a piece of his mind. But when he sees the way you awkwardly avoid his gaze, fiddling with your hands and standing at your tiptoes, Mystery relents and his frustration is replaced with something else; endearment. You're still wearing his merch, one of the very first shirts the Saja Boys released long ago with his name written on it, you're still attempting to hide from him despite knowing there's nowhere in the world you could go without him finding you.

Slowly, Mystery raises a hand towards you, enjoying your half-hearted attempt at shaking him off, pretending to bite the air near him.

And then he pinches your nose. "Cute."

After that, he leaves. You'll come around when you feel like it.

BABY

"You went too far this time, there was no need to get so personal back there."

"That's the entire point of dissing someone, duh. So, was it good? Did you like it?" Baby kicks his feet, hands cupping his cheeks to make himself look as innocent as possible. "I didn't know I could rhyme that many words with 'cunt' but it was soooo fun! Right, right?"

"Baby!"

Tsk. Guess it's the hard way today. That cute expression quickly turns into a scowl and he makes a bee-line for the fridge, if only to find something to drink and distract himself with.

He blows bubbles into the silly straw, sulking in the kitchen. "What? They got what they deserved. What kind of idiot would challenge me to a rap battle if they can't take the heat? Hellooooo, it's Baby Saja we're talking about."

"But it was a friendly thing, you turned it into a massacre for no reason."

"Heh," he knows he shouldn't, but he snickers to himself anyway. "Guess I did, huh? What, do you wanna have a go in their place?"

This is how Baby likes to play, to earn a reaction and entertain himself if only for a little--but you always know better than to play into his shenanigans. And you also know how to get a message through his thick skull, something that continues to astonish him to this day.

Baby continues to sip away on his drink as you busy yourself, fully believing himself to be the victor of this round. But dread starts to make its presence known deep in his chest as he sees you slowly gathering your things--this isn't how things usually go, you always stay the night at his place to keep him company, watching horrible romcoms, eating snacks and falling asleep at 5 a.m.

So why were you leaving?

"Hey, hey. Woaaah! Are you really going to ditch me because I got a little mean to some rando? That's so unfair." The look you give him is enough for his act to crumble, and Baby groans dramatically before hurrying to your side, tugging onto the hem of your sleeves. "Stay here! Pleeeeeeaase? I'll behave next time!"

It doesn't work; you pinch his cheeks and pull, stretching them like mochi. Your voice is stern, even after you let go. "You're old enough to know that what you have to say is 'sorry,' Baby. But if you want to beg for forgiveness, you'll have to try a little harder than that."

Shit. So much for being unfair, the tone of your voice and that look in your eye are more than enough to get all the thoughts in his mind twisted up--Baby hates when you don't indulge him, but even he has to admit that he loves that stubborn streak in you.

"What? Cat got your tongue? I know you well enough by now, there's no way you have nothing to say."

You never waver, meeting his eyes with the same intensity, running a hand through your hair. Baby's mouth turns into a fine line, followed by a pout. If he says anything right now, he'll most likely end up digging his own grave. You look SUPER hot right now, is that good enough to make up and get you to stay? Something like that would most likely earn him the silent treatment for a week.

"Sssssssorry ..."

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it--"

"...for being soooo damn good at my job. Like it's my fault?"

"I'll see you tomorrow Baby."

"Aw, c'mon!"

[totalswag]

hii, I’m not sure if you take request still but if so is there a possible way you can do a drew x singer!reader one shot take on how Sabrina “arrests” her fans before performing Juno for being too hot but the reader does it to Drew during her shows please 🫶🏼

arrested for being too hot — DREW STARKEY

authors note THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS!! my request box is still open so feel free to send me any ideas regarding singer!reader or regular fic ideas you’d like me to write. this was so much writing too. thank for all the love on my last fic lovies <3

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summary "arresting" drew, your boyfriend, during your show before performing your song from your new album.

warning(s) none!

You are on tour for your new album in-front of thousands of fans almost every night. You worked hard on this album and it turned out wonderfully. If it weren’t for the amazing fans of yours, you don’t know where you’d be in your career— they are the reason you are doing this.

Half way into the show— going amazing. The crowd tonight isn't disappointing you. Everything you've hoped for on this tour. You've performed eighteen songs and about to go onto your nineteenth. Played musical spin the bottle not long ago which was really fun.

Before Juno, you begin with a small "skit" where you call someone out in the crowd, arresting them for being too hot. This became a thing after your first show of the tour and doing it ever since. Plus, fans absolutely love it. Interacting with your fans has always been something you did and create those bonds.

Drew, your boyfriend, is attending the show with Madelyn Cline, a mutual friend and cast-mate of Drew's. You told him earlier today you wanted to arrest him in the middle of the show to get the audience excited and it would be fun.

Drew was all for it, and he didn't want you to tell him what you were going to say—he prefers surprises.

Your pink, glittering, dazzling clothing was sparkling in the lights. You pressed your free hand to your brow as though you were looking around for a call. With security, you could see Drew and Madelyn making their way to the front.

You begin by adjusting your earpiece while moving around the stage in your long skirt. "You guys know that moment when you are in a room filled with such beautiful looking people that you start to feel overwhelmed?" When fans applaud, you smile.

"Oh, girls, I think I just seen my future husband in the front row! Oh my god, girls, come here, come here," you say anxiously into the microphone, beckoning them over and waving your free hand.

You turn to face Drew as the girls approach you, asking, "Do you see that gorgeous looking man over in the front row with his arms crossed in the tan shirt?" You speak into the microphone aloud, pointing to Drew in the crowd.

Your girls joyfully waved at Drew while placing their hands on your shoulder. As Drew blushes on the big screen, the crowd reflexively turns up the volume in the arena. 

"What's your name handsome?" With your head cocked slightly to the right toward your shoulder, you inquire in jest. 

"Drew!" You can hear him when he places his hands on the side of his lips. He gives you a childlike smile and a flushed face.

You say, "I'm sorry I couldn't get that?" as though you couldn't hear him. Leaning forward more, you place your free hand behind your ear.

He shakes his head and utters "Drew!" a little louder. 

"Oh my Drew, I must say that you must be a magnet because you drew me in" brings a smile to your face. Your tone indicated that you were trying quite hard not to laugh, yet you kept your calm brilliantly.

Fans had their phones out, capturing the entire interaction. Nobody would have expected Drew to be the person arrested at your gigs since the tour began.

"Drew, you are under arrest for being too hot," you say aloud, smiling and pointing at him— fanning yourself, moving your hips side to side as the sound of sirens going off with blue and red lights behind.

You put your left elbow against your girls shoulder, "guys do you ever just see someone so good looking that you just don't know what to do and all your clothes fall off in that moment" your long skirt slips off smoothy.

"Like your brain just like malfunctions and like I just wanna handcuffed to you now like," one of your girls puts the pink fluffy handcuffs into your hand, you kneel down, "do you know what I mean? Will you take these from me?"

Drew is overwhelmed in this very moment— it's very obvious how much you are affecting him. Drew gives you a gimme me gesture with his fingers, ready to catch the hand cuffs.

He takes them in his hands, looks down, and feels the smooth texture of the fuzzy. He tilts his head to the side before slowly glancing up at you with a smirk—keep in mind that he's still on the big screen.

"We're gonna sing this one to you, Drew."

Juno's song intro starts playing. You wave goodbye to Drew and Madelyn as you return to the center of the stage. You could hear the two begin speaking to fans in the distance.

Drew and Madelyn met you in the dressing room following the show. After giving Madelyn a hug and thanking her for attending the event, you moved to approach Drew and put your arms around his neck while grinning.

"That was insane," Madelyn exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. "What about the full call-out and the handcuffs? Iconic! "You're the talk of the night; everyone is crazy about it."

You giggled as your face heated up. "It seemed right." "You should have seen his face!"

She laughs, "I got the whole thing on video, I'll send it to you later."

"I'm going to give you two some alone time, but you did such an amazing job tonight and looked so hot doing it," Madelyn adds, taking your hands in her and wiggling her brows. 

"Thank you, babe. I love you always," you say, hugging her before she leaves you and Drew alone. 

When you close the door, Drew comes behind you, placing his arms around your waist and kissing you on the cheek, making you laugh with the tenderness of his lips.

"I'm so proud of you baby, you did such an amazing job on stage and looked unbelievable in your outfits made me feel like the luckiest guy in the entire world." He expresses emotionally, which uplifts you. 

"Coming from you, it warms my heart baby. Forever grateful to have you in my life," you smile softly, leaning against his chest, feeling that sense of warmth you always feel whenever you are with him.

"And I'm forever grateful for you" he quietly responds, kissing the top of your head.

"So what are we gonna do with those pink fuzzy handcuffs?"

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[thinkinonsense]

Sit Still｡𖦹°‧

—gif credit: not mine!! i can't remember where i found it but if i can find it again or the owner comments, ill add their username <3

logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: cockwarming (sorta?), innocence kink, p in v, logan attempts to teach reader how to ride.

a/n: apologies for this being so short but chapter two of bewitched should be out friday or saturday! also i'll be responding to some requests soon too in case i spam lmao

"a-are you sure 'bout this, lo?"

your timid voice echos around the bedroom, capturing logan's attention again. he's been dreaming for months of this sight in front of him; you sitting pretty in his lap, only wearing a pink lacy bra and a pair of matching panties.

"you want me to make you feel good, right sweetheart?"

a small sigh escapes you as you attempt to grind onto him again. logan places his large hands on your waist to stop you from wiggling around. he knows you can't help it, you're still new to this after all.

it started a month ago when you and logan were left alone together in the mansion. everyone was on a field trip a couple hours away. you were recovering from a cold and logan simply didn't want to chaperone. instead, he offered to stay back with you.

late one evening, he came in to check on you and ask if there was anything you needed. that's when you asked him the question that nearly killed him, 'will you take my virginity?' you didn't see a problem with it. the two of you weren't strangers, you trusted logan, and he obviously has experience since he's much older than you.

ever since that night, you two have been going at it like rabbits. tonight, logan promised to help you get used to being on top. more importantly, training you to take him from this angle.

"c'mon, baby..." he coos with one hand on your hip and the other holding a cigar to his lips. "do it just like i told ya'."

swiftly, logan removes the rest of the material between the two of you before resting back against the mattress. anxiously, you line him up to your entrance and slowly sink down until you're sat fully on his lap again.

"nice 'n slow for me, sweetheart. that's it, stay still..." logan hums, lost in your tight, wet heat. he can hear every little noise coming from your lips. "atta girl."

it's a struggle to take all of him at once. you can feel him deep in your gut, nudging that sweet spot inside of you. logan can tell that your nerves are still tangled in knots, practically strangling his cock.

"lo, i c-can't do it." you huff, upset at yourself. "too full to move."

"poor fuckin' baby." logan teases with faux sympathy. "how 'bout we try something else for now?"

too caught up with the soft grind of his hips, you nod your head mindlessly to his proposal. logan brings his thumb to his lips, replacing the cigar which is now back on the nightstand. he sits up, making you whimper as he does so. you lean forward to capture his lips with your own, whispering how badly you needed him to just fuck you himself. instead, logan's got something else in mind.

"ah!" you gasp as he starts to rub your button with the wet pad of thumb. "f-fuck, right there..."

the soft rocking of your hips makes your toes curl and fingers pull at his little kitten tuffs. logan's mouth moves south to your chest. one nipple in his mouth then the other until both are swollen and kiss bitten. vibrations pour from his mouth as he groans at the tight squeezing of your cunt around his girth.

"ah-ah." he tsks, hand coming up to grip your jaw, pinching your cheeks together gently. "what did i say 'bout staying still?"

"s-sorry, lo.." you whimper voice muffled by your squished pouty lips.

despite having incredible stamina, logan was ready to release just from looking at your pretty face. he never been this close to cumming so soon but feeling you tense around him and wiggle in his lap made his head spin. all of this movement from only his thumb drawing circles.

"christ..." he grunts in your ear, moving faster now and with more pressure. "you're tryin' a kill me, sweetheart."

all logan gets in response is incoherent babbles of 'don't stop' and 'please, please, please'. he knows you are close when you claw at his back and start to bounce on him little by little, just enough to make you see stars. it all feels too much yet not enough at the same time. logan's circles start to get sloppy as he approaches his high too.

"l-logan!" you squeal, heavy eyes trying to focus on his face. "wanna feel you..."

in a rush, logan picks up the pace, torturing your button with his thumb. a loud moan falls from your lips, trying to wiggle out of logan's grip as your orgasm washes over you with intense euphoria. logan growls in your neck from your tight fucking grip on his cock, pumping his load inside of your walls. some of it spilling out of you and drenching the sheets.

the two of you catch your breath in silence for a moment. your nails scratch his scalp softly while logan pulls you down to kiss him. after a second, you move back, smiling down at him in a way that makes him harden again.

"thought you were gonna show me how to ride?" you tease.

logan shoots you a cocky eyebrow raise before leaning back again, one hand on your hip and the other returning to his cigar on the night stand.

"alright, baby..." he chuckles, re-lighting the cigar and paying little attention to the roll of your hips. "let me see what you got."

[angrythingstarlight]

On TikTok I saw a comment where a woman said that she told her husband to pretend to be unconscious so he was dead weight to see if she could drag him out of the house in case of fire or emergency, she couldn’t even pull him off the bed and she cried so he had comfort her while dying laughing😭😭😂 reminded me of something biker Bucky and Gorgeous would do

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader

A/N: Written on my phone, unbetad.

Bucky groans dramatically. "You might as well just leave me here and save yourself Gorgeous."

You keep pulling him with all your strength but he barely budges an inch. You might be able to move him if he'd stop talking.

He doesn't.

"Bury me with my bike." Bucky cracks open an eye, his lips twitching. "And a pair of your panties."

"I'm not doing that." A laugh spills past your lips before you can stop it.

You can't concentrate with him cracking jokes like this. Yeah that's the reason you're struggling to move this six foot something man. It's all his fault.

You keep laughing but the more he thinks about it, the more he likes the idea. "Matter fact, line my casket with your panties and toss in a few of those pics I have on my phone."

"Oh my god."

"I'll know if you disregarded my last wishes," he casually warns, like his massive body isn't splayed on the bedroom floor. Like he's still not budging despite the fact that you're putting your all into this.

"Shut. Up."

"Mourn me for the rest of your life," he sighs sadly, head lolling to the side. Bucky hasn't broken character once, he's fully committed to this bit. "Keep a shrine of me in our bedroom."

"Bucky I'm trying to focus," your breathless giggle lost under a grunt when you try to shove him to the side. Nothing. Damn it.

Eyeing his shirtless, tattooed body, you try new a new approach. Adjusting your grip, you hook your fingers under his upper arms. You can barely get your hands around half of his large, warm biceps. Bracing your feet on the floor, you pull so hard you feel your muscles tremble and ache. He slides up a centimeter.

"Don't even think about moving on."

"Be quiet," you start. Releasing his arms, you wince when they hit the floor with a thud. You'd have better luck moving a pile of bricks than your man. "What would you do if I did?"

You're teasing but Bucky takes you very seriously.

He doesn't play when it comes to you. Or his burial requests.

He slowly opens his eyes, his darkening gaze captures yours. "I will haunt you for the rest of your life," he states confidently. "No guy will even breathe in your direction by time I'm done with them. You're going to have a rep because of me."

There's no time to process that because his hands suddenly reach out, grabbing your ankles. You're tugged forward, turned and twisted—somehow he manages to squeeze your ass a couple of times—until you're flat on his chest, his pecs under your palms.

Bucky smiles, his hand cups the back of your head and he brings your face close to his. "If you think I'm a menace now, imagine what my ghost will be like. Just imagine what ghost me would do to you. I'd get rid of your little replacement and then you'd get all my attention. Remember ghost me isn't going to get tired."

Oh.

Oh.

Oh no.

Well maybe that could be fun. Wait.

Your eyes widen at the images his words are creating. He chuckles under his breath. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

Resting your chin on his chest, you have to admit, no man would ever measure up to your bike. And if anyone could find a way to come back and haunt someone, it would be the handsome, incorrigible man under you.

"So you want all my panties or just your favorites?"

"Gorgeous. How many times do we have to go over this? All your panties are my favorite."

"Fine," you concede, failing to hold back a smile. "But you promised me a lifetime together and I'm holding you to that."

Bucky brushes his lips across yours in one sweet, sure motion. His deep voice rolls over your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. "I have no intention of leaving you anytime soon. I got too many plans for you, Gorgeous."

All of his plans revolve around loving you, protecting you, being with you, caring for you any way you'll let him.

And he's going take his time getting through every last one of them.

[realcube]

— BEST FRIEND! SUNA

desc ;; after being blocked by a situationship, you show your best friend your nudes and ask for advice. tws & tags ;; nsfw mdni. distribution of explicit material, oral, objectification, mentions of squirting, breeding, anal & filming.

the door to suna's room creaks as you step inside.

after having spent all day bed rotting with your best friend, you decided to step out for some fresh air (and a quick smoke), and unsurprisingly, suna is still exactly as you left him — on his phone, leaning back against his headboard. he doesn't spare you a glance as you enter the room.

your phone is still perched precariously on the edge of his bed, and you approach it with caution. part of the reason you rushed outside was because during an awfully risque text conversation with a guy you've been talking to, you obliged and sent him some lewd pics. but he left you on read.

in your defence, it was a heat-of-the-moment decision, and he did request it, so it's not as though you were sending unsolicited images like some sort of perv. but the fact he was taking so long to respond did make you feel like one, though a small voice in your head tried to reassure you that surely he wasn't ignoring you, perhaps your pics have just given him something to take care of.

regardless, the larger part of you was moritified and unsure what to do, so you just dropped your phone on the bed and removed yourself from the situation — clearing your mind before you returned.

now, it was time for the moment of truth. you sat yourself awkwardly down on the corner of the bed, and hesitantly reached for your phone. no new notifications: that didn't fill you with much hope at all. after inputting your password, you navigated to the app and searched for his contact, and suspiciously it wasn't it your 'recently messaged' tab.

your heart was already thundering in your chest, but this only made it far worse. all your messages and chat history with this guy had disappeared, and when you tried to desperately type one out to him, it was immediately marked as 'failed to send'.

you frown, body going slack as you fall back onto the bed and defeatedly drawl, "he blocked me.."

suna finally perked up from his oblivious post at the other side of his bed, "who blocked you?"

"the guy i was texting.."

"that sucks." suna responded bluntly. though you couldn't blame him, he clearly didn't understand the severity of the situation, so you tried to explain it to him,

"you don't get it! i actually really liked him, and we were having such a nice time talking until.." you trail off, failing to find the courage to admit the shameful truth.

"until?" suna pried.

"rinny! can i ask you something?" you inquire, swiftly sitting upright as you shift the conversation, "can i send you some photos and you can tell me what you think of them?"

if suna was being completely honest, he was only half paying attention to whatever it was you were saying, so naturally he didn't notice the sudden change in topic of discussion — or he just didn't care. your new request wasn't foreign to him though; often you'll ask him to review random pics that you plan on adding to a photo dump online. or asking him to rank what order you should add the pics to your instagram carousel. or in which of these three images are you serving the most cunt. stuff like that, thus he agreed.

"sure. send them and i'll look."

"yay." you hummed with delight, and eagerly forwarded him the pics, "let me know what you think. i thought they looked fine but now i'm having second thoughts.."

he tapped the notification at the top of his screen and was directed to the chat with you. in which, he was met with an influx of images he was not expecting.

you, his best friend, who he's known for as long as he can remember, perched on your bathroom counter and posing for a mirror photo — wearing nothing but a floral thong and no top. your back was facing the mirror so he couldn't see your chest, but the plump globe of your ass was fully exposed and unshielded by the skimpy sliver of fabric.

his blood rushed to his head, and also his dick. his whole body was tense and thus his eyes were glued to the lewd picture of you, not only because he was mesmerised but also since he was so rigid he couldn't bring himself to move his thumb.

the furious pounding of his heartbeat rattled in his eardrums. he's never seen you so bare before. of course you've worn revealing clothes around him before — like when you go to the beach together, or sometimes when you're just hanging out in a warm environment — but never in such a purposeful or pornographic manner.

don't get him wrong, you've always been alluring to him but he just assumed that was just a part of your nature and he was being a sly pervert for secretly viewing you in an explicit way. like when you'd pull your hoodie off and your shirt would ride up and he'd get a peek of your underboob. or when you'd sit with your legs up on the couch while wearing shorts and he could see the outline of your sweet folds. it was undoubtably hot but that was never the intention, or so he assumed.

even though your back was to the mirror in the image, he could still tell that you weren't wearing any top, and the placement of your other hand just underneath the rotund curve of your ass was so deliberate and hot. it's like he was seeing you in a whole other light; he didn't know you were capable of being so sexy on purpose — he always assumed it was more of an accidental thing for you.

it's like his whole impression of you was shattering. maybe you weren't the sweet girl with a grimy sense of humour he thought you were; maybe you were truly a slutty bombshell. it was surreal and nauseating yet he still ached to see more.

though, before he began scrolling through the several other images you sent him, he gulped and turned the phone to show you the screen, "uhm, did you mean to send me this?"

you furrowed your brows together and leaned forward to inspect the screen, afraid you might've sent him pics of your medical anomaly that you meant to show the doctor. but once you examined the pic, you sighed and sat back in place, "yeah, those are the right ones." you state plainly, and suna proceeds to stare blankly at you, entirely speechless.

it freaked you out a little, so you attempted to fill the uncomfortable silence, "what do you think? that's what i sent to the guy before he blocked me. i thought they were kinda cute.. but there must be something wrong with them." he still looks astonished, so you clarify, "and he asked for me to send them, by the way. i didn't just do it randomly."

suna nods slowly as if that were of any reassurance what-so-ever. you press him to continue looking, and he cautiously does so. his thumb moves on his own as he swipes through the multiple suggestive images you sent him. and his dick begins to throb looking at each one.

they are all so hot; makes him feel so perverted for enjoying it. many are taken in your bathroom mirror, a string bikini top with a measly little thong on. he recalls you wore that exact set to the beach with him one time, except you were wearing a floral sarong too. it was sheer but there was still enough fabric to obscure you're delicious ass. but in this picture it was all out for the camera.

there was even a couple shots from that one halloween where you went as a zombie cowgirl. the costume itself was cool but suna recalls it wasn't revealing or intentionally 'sexy' or anything like that — which is why his heart leaped upon seeing your various upskirt pics, that were probably taken after he walked you home after a night out. some were shot directly up your skirt, showing the plushness of your ass up close, while others were taken in your bedroom mirror. either with you lifting your skirt up teasingly, or full-on bent over for the camera. from certain angles, he could even see the imprint of your lips through your thin panties which drove him absolutely insane.

to think, if he was smart enough that night, he could've stayed over at yours and buried himself in that cute ass, that you were clearly so desperate to show off. could've ate that pristine hole and felt your soft ass cradle his face. it's as though he could hear the adorable little noises you would've made, ringing in his ears.

he been gawking at his phone screen for a while, saying nothing, so you pry, "i look fine, right, rin? c'mon, please don't tell me i look weird! i thought these pictures were cute, so i don't know why he didn't like them.." you whine with a frustrated pout. you really don't understand men, thus you were hoping suna would be of some assistance, but he wasn't even saying anything or providing useful insight. just gaping at his screen.

"uh, they look.." he started, voice trailing off as his eyes were still glued to your perky ass clad in nothing but a thong, and his mind began to run wild with fantasies, "uhm.."

you interpretted his lust-fuelled daze as disinterest, and sighed. "really? they're that bad. what's wrong with 'em? i don't get it.. oh! is it because i'm leaving to much to the imagination? are they not overt enough?" you bite your lip as you antsily scroll through your secure folders and forward him some additional pictures, "look, i have dirtier ones. whatdya think? are these ones better?"

as promised, the new images you sent him were dirtier. filthy, in fact.

now you were wearing absolutely nothing. suna choked on his own spit at the sight of you stood bare in front of your bathroom mirror, posing suggestively for the camera. your whole pussy was exposed and so were your erect nipples, that he had previously only seen when they were teasing him by straining against the fabric of your tank tops.

he knew you were attractive but it was shocking to realise that is the body you've been hiding this whole time. had he knew that earlier, he would've ripped your clothes off a lot sooner.

in some of them your hair was wet and the bathroom mirror was steamy, as though you had just gotten out of the shower. for the most part he's been hyper-focussed on your seductive body, however, he's suddenly beginning to notice things in the background. like the pattern of the bathroom tiles.. and the shape of the mirror.. and the colour of the countertops.. shit, were some of these taken in his bathroom?

there was no denying it. the reality came crashing down on him like a sack of bricks and knocked the wind right out of him. at some point, he was chilling in his room, probably playing video games or texting his friends without a care in the world, patiently waiting for his turn to shower, while you were in the adjoining bathroom, posing for nude selfies and showing off your slutty tits for the camera. in his mirror.

fuck, if only he knew. now he feels like an idiot. the things he would've done to that hot body in the shower, his dick aches just thinking about it. he'd need to finish in you so many times, until his cum was drooling out of you and he'd only stop once the water ran cold.

there were shots with your legs spread too. on halloween again, your skirt was hiked up and your panties were pulled to the side, exposing your glistening cunt. he'd do anything to lock his mouth to those puffy folds of yours. taste that sticky, juicy cunt. even without flash, your pussy was visibly soaked with your arousal. it coated your lips and stuck to your inner thighs.

and the sight of your tantalising hole was enough to make him light-headed. so puckered and cute for the camera. and it was about the tightest little thing he's ever seen. from the way your own juices soak your pretty pussy, he could tell you were undoubtly needy that halloween night. he hates himself for not burying his cock into that snug hole and stretching you out. pounding his fat dick into over and over, and making you take it. or his tongue, then he wouldn't stop until you squirt in his mouth, and he'd keep going for several rounds until you—

"hellooo? earth to rinny. anybody there?" you wave your hand in between his dry eyes and the phone, which momentarily rips him out of his horny trance.

"huh?" he groans, confused as to what you are disturbing him for, when he was so close drinking up your first orgasm (in his imagination.)

"do you think i should've sent the dirtier pics?" you pondered aloud, waiting for suna's much-needed input, "maybe he blocked me because he thought i was a prude, or something like that."

"you're definitely not a prude." suna utters his first coherent (and sfw) thought in the last ten minutes. "why.. did you send me these?"

"so i can get your opinion, dummy!" you roll your eyes, prodding at his shoulder, "that's what i've been syaing this whole time. it's not like i'm showing you my nudes for fun."

"right.." his brows twitch, trying his best not to even glance down at his phone screen, as he knows he'll be distracted again, "i think you look fine."

"fine?!—"

"—great! you look great." suna swiftly corrects himself, then continues, "why do you care that some guy blocked you? he was probably just an asshole."

"what if he blocked me because he thinks i'm hideous?" you whine.

"you're not." he states plainly. "but if you're that worried about it, i could help you take some better photos."

"really?"

"yeah." he slowly stands up from the bed, weary as to conceal his throbbing erection as he moves, "what're friends for?"

you smile gently up at him, and without further question, you begin to remove your clothes. in truth, you are a bit hesitant because you've never purposefully stripped for him before — yeah, sometimes you guys would change in front of each other, but that was never as intimate as this. however, you persevered because you felt as though during your embarrassing moment, you reached a new level of friendship and camaraderie with suna. one in which you could be more vulnerable with each other.

first to come off was your jumper, then your shorts, and next thing you knew, you were laying completely nude out in front of suna. he loomed over you, grasping onto his phone camera for dear life. his eyes were zeroed in on your tits, but you tried your best to ignore that and giggled, "how should i pose first?"

rintaro forced himself to gulp down whatever hedonistic thoughts were brewing in his mind, for now. he didn't want to risk appearing too eager, even if your naked body in such close proximity to him almost caused knees to give out under him. he needs to act casual. "lay on your front."

you do as you are told, and you mewl slightly as his cold hands runs over the back of your thigh, massaging your silkly flesh. he kneeds the doughy meat of your ass with his palms, then promptly spreads your cheeks to expose your puckered asshole. you can almost hear his devilish grin as he snaps a photo and hums, "there we go. so tight for the camera. you wouldn't mind if i.." his muses, as his fingers idly dance over your rear, playfully poking your ass until they sneak down to prod at your hole.

then, without warning, he shoves two digits straight in, takes the pic then yanks them back out. your back arches instictively at the lewd intrusion, "ngh, rinny!" you squeal, scrunching your features, "just take normal ones.."

"this is the sort of stuff guys like, though." he reassures, stroking your perky ass, savouring the sensation of your supple skin under his hand. "action shots."

"hmm.." you considered his suggestion, bearing in mind that he's a horny fuck that probably just wanted to stick his fingers inside you, "maybe my old pics are a bit vanilla.." you admitted.

"yeah. they're hot but you could look a lot hotter." he said, blinkly slowly, "you know what guys like? squirting pics."

"...really?" you raised an eyebrow, peering over your shoulder so he could see your clearly dubious expression.

"mhm. most guys are super turned on by it. you could land any guy if you had a pic like that." he explains with an absurd amount of sincerity and confidence, despite the fact he pulled all of that out of his ass.

"and how would i get a photo like that?" you slowly roll over onto your back, so you're looking up at him while he's stood at the edge of the bed, holding your thigh in one hand and his phone in the other — with his camera pointed directly at you.

"i guess i'd have to tongue fuck you.." he says 'begrudgingly'.

"oh i'd never made you do that, rinny." you're onto his agenda, since he does a terrible job at hiding it. the massive tent in his pants was making it too obvious that he wanted to fuck you. but you like to tease him about it. "i could just use a vibrator, while you take the picture."

his face drops, "uh," he splutters, not anticipating pushback, "girls can't squirt.. with vibrators." he blinks. the lies were somehow becoming less and less believable, despite how they weren't very convincing to begin with.

"that's a shame." you bow your head in attempt to suppress a chortle at his ridicoulous claim. finally, you decide to give him what he wants, "would you please tongue fuck me, then, rinny?" you bat your eyelashes at him.

"...sure."

[luveline]

angsty request coming!!! hotch taking care of an overworked reader who hasn’t been sleeping!! maybe the team notices r has been a bit scattered or feverish and hotch steps in!!!

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k Hotch knows, technically, that what he’s doing tonight is out of bounds. He just doesn’t care —can’t find it in himself to regret his actions as he shepherds you from the office and into his car. Doesn’t give your wide-eyed surprise any notice, doesn’t offer explanation as he takes you into the department store between the office and his apartment and tells you to choose. 

“I don’t understand.” 

He nods toward the lines of pointelle camisoles and shorts, gestures to the longer silken trousers, “Choose something to wear.” 

You blink hotly. He’s flustered you, but that’s easy lately. “Do they have anything warmer?” you ask. 

He takes your arm gently into his hand and turns you an inch, where the jersey material pajamas hang from the wall. There’s a nice brown coordinating set right in front of you. He guesses your size (he knows it from practice), pulling a hanger from up high to offer you. “Yes?” he asks. 

“Why?” 

“You’ll need them.” 

You rub your face. “Okay, yeah. I like those ones.” 

He folds them over his arm. He can feel you gaze on the side of his face as he takes you to the register and pays without giving the total any mind. Hotch doesn’t care how much anything costs, he only wants it to be soft. If it weren’t crossing a line, he would’ve found you new underwear, too. 

He accepts the bag from the cashier and guides you out again. “Is there anything else you need?” he asks you. 

“For what?” 

“You aren’t going home.” 

“I’m not?” 

He shakes his head gently. He isn’t being intimidating, only straight forward. Hotch obviously isn’t in the business of kidnapping women, especially coworkers, friends, he just knows now that this won’t be solved without some tough love. “You’re staying with me, if you don’t mind.” 

“Why would I mind?” 

Lethargic, you follow him to the car and get back in the front seat. He turns the heated seats on and watches you sink into the leather, clearly pleased, tired eyes slipping closed every now and then in the ensuing silence. 

Regretfully, you startle as he parks, roused from whatever hooks that had finally managed to hold you. Heat, he thinks, is key here. 

“I’m making oatmeal and cocoa,” he says as he opens the door, waiting for you to follow suit before he continues, “and you can go and get changed. You know where my room is?”

“Sure.” 

“Alright, good. You can make yourself comfortable there.” 

“In your room?” 

He sends you a loving and agitated look over the door. Really? it says. You and Hotch have been trapped in an excitable will-they won’t-they situation for months, and he’d think by now the obvious answer to it all is we most certainly will. “Honey, yes. Unless you’d be more comfortable in Jack’s?” 

“Does he still have the race car bed?” 

“Afraid so.” 

You hum, and lead the way to the house. Hotch hands you his keys, something in his chest tightly squeezed to see you turn the house key in the lock, to let yourself in, and to hold out your hand expectantly for the department bag. You head to his room like you do it everyday. Hotch resists the urge to call you back and kiss you with your jaw held in his hand —it’s not the point. 

He gets a strange pang a few minutes later, stirring the pot of easy-sachet oatmeal, a rare pang of regret. Perhaps he’s being too headstrong, letting his worry guide him like this, pushing you to come home with him and to sleep in his bed. You might be at the same level as he is, but it still feels a little like pulling Spencer home with him and demanding he dress and eat as Hotch likes. 

I’ll apologise, he thinks, setting your oatmeal and cocoa on a tray, conscious of the sun setting outside, night swiftly falling. If he really is going to say sorry and have you go home, you’ll be disrupted again. There’s a possibility Hotch has made this ten times worse. 

He climbs the stairs and finds you laying on his side of the bed with your nose turned into his pillow, a damp sheen to your skin. You’ve washed your face, and changed into the new pajamas, just a little too big for you where you’ve curled around your hands. 

“Honey?” he asks softly. 

“Sorry,” you say, twice as quietly as he had, “just, it smells so nice in here.” 

“That’s okay.” 

“I’ll move.”

“Just sit up,” he says, thinking of you in the office with your jittering and your glass-eyed stare. “I’ve brought you something.” 

You nod heavily and do as he’s asked, again. He sets the tray on your lap and you look up at him. It’s the look that does it, really. The half circles under your eyes are nothing to him beyond proof that you aren’t sleeping, the bloodshot in your sclera, it’s all inconsequential. What floors him is the unquestioning trust to be found when you look at him. He doesn't kid himself when he thinks that this could lend itself to love. 

“You know why I’ve asked you to come home with me?” he asks carefully. 

“I worried you.”

He puts the tray in your waiting lap, gracing your chin with a quick stroke underneath, feather-light. “I haven’t abused my power?” 

“Buying me new clothes and making me dinner?” you ask softly, evident delight on your face as you notice the squares of chocolate that have begun to melt into your oatmeal. 

“Forcing you home with me and sequestering you in my bedroom.” 

“It’s not how I thought it would happen,” you confess, gathering a heaping mountain of oatmeal onto your spoon, “not the first time, at least. I guess I should worry you more often.” 

“No,” he says, holding your chin between his fingers until you meet his serious gaze. “You shouldn’t.” 

Your eyebrows do something he can’t name, but there’s a word for what it inspires in his chest. “I won’t,” you promise.