#but very much fluff very much smut

[babyleostuff]

brain fluff rot. cause red hair sulky baby cheol is on my brain.

you were working at home because its a saturday. so while you and cheol is at home. he decided to be clingy while you do your project at your computer. he would pout tho when you stop petting his hair. (so beware!)

- 🖼️

i love your brain so much, how do you always come up with the fluffiest and cutest ideas ever 🫠

okay, so finally the day has come - you and cheol are both at home, at the same time, together. he has a day off, doesn't need to worry about anything (except for if he should get up at 4 or 5 pm or maybe stay in bed for the whole day), and he has a whole day for you and kkuma with no schedules.

except you decide to be a responsible adult and do some work which is so??? hello, he's right there, half naked in bed, all warm, bulky and cuddly, and you still prefer to work on your project instead of cuddle him in your bed. this is unacceptable, and cheol does not tolerate this behaviour.

you don't have to be looking at him to know he's pouting, with his lower lip jutted out adorably (do i have to mention his big sparkly eyes, begging you to come back to bed?). and oh my god, why are you so stubborn? he's been looking at you like that for the past hour and you still don't pay him even an ounce of attention. and choi seungcheol, general leader of seventeen, age 29 needs attention. a lot of attention.

at this point his hands are itching to touch you, like he's practically screaming "PLEASE HOLD MY HAND, BABY". eventually, he somehow succeeded in persuading you to come to bed with your laptop, mumbling something about it being more comfortable than your chair (even though he himself bought that chair, the most expensive one, to make sure it would be very very very comfortable and good for your back).

the second he covers you with the blanket his head is on your chest, and arms are tightly wrapped around you (he won't let you get away for the next couple of hours) (the rest of the day probably), and as a cherry on top he places your hand on his head clearly signalising he wants his head pats.

and you do just that, a bit amused with you boyfriends neediness. nonetheless, you keep patting his head, and running your fingers through his red hair strands that have already began fading, and stroking his cheek, and running your thumb over his hand that is resting on your tummy. all that to make up for the audacity to leave him alone in bed.

dare to stop petting his hair, though, and you're met with a very very whiny choi seungcheol, who starts talking in pout how you have betrayed him, and that you don't love him anymore.

this man just wants to be babied, i don't care if he's a hard dom or whatever - CHOI SEUNGCHEOL IS A SULKY BABY.

EXHIBITS OF POUTY RED HAIRED CHEOLLIE:

[toruslvt]

Can't get enough of your writings from last place and also a HUGE Genshin/HonkaiStarRail stan. Quick request, if you don't mind and have time, Could you do a Dan Heng (Either form) or Zhongli with FemReader who is super shy about their body. SFW or NSFW would be great. Again, love your work. Hope to see more through the year :D

— dan heng, zhongli + fem!reader.

mdni. ( nonie pls read the tags ily ) both fluff and smut. dragon boys who don’t get human emotions that well yet wish nothing more than your happiness... cunilingus 😋.

dan heng doesn’t understand why you’re so shy about your body, he only wishes you could see yourself through his eyes. see the perfection in your whole being and why his hands seem unable to be away from you for too long; he’s aware of your lack of self-confidence, and absolutely hates himself for not making you feel loved enough.

there is not a moment when dan heng’s hands aren’t touching you somehow, like a soft, tender rub on your back, a fleeting brush of his hands on your waist as you walk past him, and of course, multiple kisses placed on the patches of skin where your shirt doesn’t cover. utterly obsessed with you is what dan heng is.

intimately is the same, your lover takes his time in kissing you silly until you’re hazy and unable to tell him no when his hands take off your clothes, although, if you wished to remain clothed somehow, he would never deny that to you.

dan heng’s favorite part is letting his lips trace the whole expanse of your body, his pants tightening around his growing erection, painfully hard but wishing to satisfy you first, make you feel more comfortable while muttering sweet nothings against your skin where his lips lay and you shake in return, there’s bites on your thighs, licks and kisses, marks for you to see the following day and perhaps, loving your body a little bit more with the print of his love in your skin.

on the other hand, Zhongli’s love language is through words more than actions, always finding himself cupping your cheeks and muttering how insanely gorgeous you are, how every single detail of your beautiful body drives him utterly insane, leaving you all flustered under his intense amber gaze.

there isn’t a day that passes where Zhongli isn’t eager to explore your body with his mouth and hands, slowly and steadily undoing your clothes under your lust filled eyes. “don’t do that, let me see you” he rasps when you cover yourself, slightly demanding and rough but not enough to scare you, staring at you from between your thighs with a piercing gaze that makes you whimper, letting your hands tangle on his hair while Zhongli’s tongue lick up your pretty pussy. although his favorite days are when you have those outbursts of confidence, still shyly taking off your clothes under his intense staring, it makes his cock pulse watching you so prettily crawl over his body, a smirk always plastered on his face that's half lust, and half adoration.

[yuwuta]

yuuta exhibits such previously abandoned, recently adopted dog behavior. incredibly anxious all the time, even though nobody’s out to get him or leave him behind. waits for you to return home or from school or from work excitedly, just to see you when you walk through the door. follows you around senselessly, hovering in your space just for the sake of companionship. initiates affection in prodding ways—starts off next to you, then a hand on your thigh, then deems it safe to lay all the way down, then slowly pushes his head into your lap. gets up whenever you need to get up, and resumes his position as soon as you’re ready. brings you gifts as a sign that he’s thinking of you, and maybe because he likes the affection it brings out in you, maybe because he likes the gentle affirming touches of a hand in his hair or a pinch to his cheek. rests his head on your stomach or his chin on your shoulder when he’s sleepy, stays there, immobile, and will not move unless absolutely necessary. sometimes he gets surprised when he hears you calling for him, there’s a moment of disbelief as he thinks “me? really? you need me?” but it’s very quickly overshadowed by this compulsive need to show up, to please, to do anything for you, which is why he always answers when you call. he doesn’t realize that he has puppygod eyes, especially when he’s excited or confused, but he does and it’s incredible endearing. very reluctant to share your space or attention after a while, considers that to be sacred and he won’t risk being let go or lost again, so as a safety precaution, he keeps himself right by you, waits for you always. 

[slttygeto]

iwaizumi monster cock sure but iwaizumi big hands that are so good at giving you a massage. he loves to randomly squeeze your shoulder or your side, and is infatuated by how you melt into him just at the feeling of the palm of his hand on your back.

[milky-aeons]

𝐁𝐘 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄

౨ৎ  . . . even though you may not always be by his side, there are multiple ways you and ARMIN ARLERT express your love for each other.

warnings: sexual content, memories of war, ptsd, marriage, pregnancy, mdni, w.c 845

♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ tenerife sea — ed sheeran ꒱ ˎˊ-

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who was, at first, not very forthcoming about his feelings towards you. Who allowed them to balloon into something monstrous, something that wouldn't let his eyes leave you no matter where you came or when you went.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who mustered up the courage to ask you on a date after weeks of deliberation. That mind of his really was a double-edged sword, having the ability to lead squadrons to victory but crumbled when he looked into your eyes and became so adorably tongue-tied.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who, on the day of your wedding, wore a crown of flowers in her hair and jewellery made from emerald sea-glass. Who kept the jewellery on that night you spent together, the smooth stone sliding over your bouncing breasts as you rode him into ecstasy.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who held him tight on those nights he couldn't sleep. When the haunting echoes of war visited him instead of dreams. Who cradled him against your chest and carded through his golden hair, humming to him a song from your childhood, until his tense shoulder muscles smoothened down and he took more even, slumbering breaths.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who was always phenomenal when it came to choosing gifts. Whether they be for special occasions like your one year anniversary — when he surprised you with that delicate little music box specially crafted to play that tune, the one you always sung to him — or little delicates he brought home after a long day's work. Chocolates, flowers, books from the Capital where he conducted the duties of Commander.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who would know immediately when your husband has had a taxing day. When he'd come through the door of the little town house you shared — his eyes shadowed, his hair mused from where he ruffled at it. You would go to him and place longer, sweeter kisses against his lips. You would instruct him to sit in the kitchen so you could brew him some tea, so you could take your fingers to his temples and draw soothing little circles.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who brought you to the beach on late summer's nights. Who would be mysterious and playful with his little secret, ushering you out of the house when you least expected it. Of course, he had the charade planned right down to the finer details; the standing wax candles in the sand, the blanket, the bottle of fine Mitras wine and two polished glasses waiting to be drunk.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who was reserved with his desires, and yet eager to please you at the same time. Who would murmur hot and heady into your ear; where do you need it, love? Does it feel good when I do this? Tell me what you need, let me please you. Who had years of power in his honed abdomen muscles and thighs as he would use them to thrust into you without conviction. Who would relish in the way you called out his name as your walls clenched around him, undoing him by the very seams.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who gave him a small clothed package unannounced one day. Watchful as he undid the layers with those gorgeous blue eyes wide and curious. Who did not take long to understand what the gift meant — a little wooden horse and a hat that would be much too small for him. He had stood, unbelieving, his eyes shining with tears, and picked you up in a hug that stole the air from your lungs and spun you round, round, round.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who lay beside your curved belly swollen with life and read to them. About fields of fire, endless seas of ice, vast rivers of colour in the night sky. Who would place kisses to your unborn child, who would place kisses on the back of your hand and tell you how much he loved you.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who cooked with you on the days he had been spared from his military duties. Who would lift your beautiful child up into the air and make them giggle as you stirred the pot. Who would come up behind you and encircle you in his strong arms, placing a quick, chaste kiss on your temple.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who was cunning with him, adoring the blush that still coloured your husbands cheeks when you did something daring. You would seek him out on late nights in the study as he poured over reports by lamplight. Quietly, you would slip your nightdress down from your shoulders and let it fall to a pool at your feet. It always made your pulse flutter, the way he looked at you, like a man strangled. Like a man so madly and irrevocably in love.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who, before he left every morning and before he closed his eyes at night, would mutter the same exact words;

"I love you, my moon and stars."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who would murmur right back;

"And I love you too, my entire night sky."

WRITING REQUESTS

[fanaticsnail]

You Should Be Sad

Back to main Masterlist

“He’s here,” you released in a breath above a whisper.

“Shit,” she uttered, her own eyes widening and her grip softening its grasp on your shoulders, “what to you want to do? Sit the next set out?”

You shrugged your shoulders and hardened your resolve.

“No,” you murmured darkly, turning your sights to Jed as he carried a full pint of beer with foam brimming at the top. He sipped from the glass and made eye contact with you, promptly bringing the liquid down from his lips.

“What do you need, babes?” he quietly uttered, noticing the intensity of your gaze.

“Liquid courage, dealers choice but something strong,” you smirked, “my ex-fiancé is here and I’m going to make him feel something.”

You Should Be Sad - Halsey

Navigation

Part 1 (angst)

Part 2 (fluff)

Part 3 (smut)

Synopsis

Upon rising to the title of Warlord and Worlds-Greatest-Swordsman, Dracule Mihawk began to neglect his fiancé and her desires. Unable to provide her with the one thing she truly longed for, he remained apathetic as she broke from their lengthy courtship.

A decade later, and many a bottle of brandy relinquished, he drifts to Baratie in hopes of drowning away the memory of her: only to have his hopes shattered as the hired band begins to play with his ex-fiancé singing her vengeance at him.

Friends to lovers to enemies to friends to lovers

[ghost-proofbaby]

Hi Ghost! Mega congrats on 3k!! 🥳can i get a filthy martini with eddie munson? Maybe with some sneaking around fun? Thankyou!!

thank you so much!! ngl, i'm very proud of this one. i definitely got carried away, but i swear the smut is there, somewhere amongst the 3k+ words!!! this is really just one long love letter to eddie munson. hope i did your idea justice! also got heavily inspired by taylor swift's song "cruel summer", but what's new?

come party with me!

summertime and stardust (eddie munson x fem!reader)

warnings: smut, p in v, raw dog heathen prevails (aka unprotected sex). also a lot of references to mythology. my bad. i think i got too much prose all over my smut. oops.

Hawkins was always boring in the summer, and maybe that’s how the two of you ended up in this predicament. It was a sweltering wasteland of quarries that had started drying up long before July even arrived, and twenty four hour diners that were occupied with waitresses that made it very clear that they were sick of seeing yours and Eddie’s faces before even a week of freedom. Half of the usual hangout spots the two of you had considered hidden gems were quickly overrun by the middle-schoolers and freshmen that now had nothing but time on their hands (Eddie had taken the loss of the Arcade badly). So it was no surprise that you two ended up here, at the shore of Lover’s Lake, side by side on a blanket that Eddie had kept in the back of his van. 

“Which one is that one?” you ask, lifting a finger to trace out a constellation winking down at the two of you. 

“Orion,” Eddie immediately answers, hardly having to squint to make out the stars as you were, “Want to hear the story behind that one?”

“Is that even a question?” 

This is how the two of you had spent the last hour. On your backs, gazing at the stars, exchanging stories and theories that did not belong to either of you. Tales of Greek Gods and Goddesses, smartass remarks and make-believe when one of you couldn’t identify the constellation. There’s nothing else but you, Eddie, and the cicadas this far out of town. A buzz of relief and tranquility to bask in. Every so often, you could make out the lake water lapping at the shore not far from where both your feet rest, Eddie’s stretching past the blanket. 

It was nice. Every night you had spent out here had been very nice.

You turn on your side to listen to Eddie ramble about Orion, somehow both eloquent but still unfairly funny in his side comments of his opinion on the tale. He makes it very clear that he finds Orion to be deserving of losing his sight - “Seriously, fuck that dude!” - and you can only watch on, entranced by the boy and his starry eyes. 

“I think the version where Artemis murked his ass is pretty good, but I also like the idea behind Gaia sending a Scorpion to kill him, because then they’re opposing constellations and sh- Are you even listening to me?” Eddie pauses when you bring a hand up to his chest, fingertips dancing over the damp cotton of his t-shirt. 

You can’t hide the small smile tilting your lips as you nod, biting back giggles, “Oh, absolutely.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, arms crooked up to rest behind his head, biceps straining against the worn sleeves of his t-shirt. You resist the urge to just bury yourself into him, curl against his side and press, press, press until the two of you conjoin, never to separate again. 

“You’re such a fucking liar,” he lowly chuckles, eyes looking back up to the sky as your fingers begin to trace patterns higher, now skimming his barely-exposed collarbones. 

This is how it usually goes. He’s watching the sky, you’re watching him. Waiting for the right moment. Waiting for the change. 

Everyone in town knew that the two of you are friends; it’s not a secret. You’d met in school, partnered for a chemistry lab, and the rest was history. Everyone knew that you were the first person Eddie showed every new Corroded Coffin song to, and everyone knew Eddie was the last person you spoke to at the end of every day. And surely, they had to know to some extent, that you both reserved your summer nights for each other. 

The change is what they didn’t know. 

Steve and Robin would tease you two when you’d come into Family Video, a new thriller or horror movie always in hand at the checkout. Dustin would make gagging noises when Eddie would dramatically bid you farewell before Hellfire Club would commence, making endless jokes about his wife returning from war, how lonesome he would be now as you walked through the door and out of his sights for the next several hours. Even Mike, even Max, even Joyce, had made off-handed comments about your attachment to each other. 

But they were all always joking. They never saw any purchase in their words, their relentless teasing never serious because they couldn’t fathom a world where those jokes were actually correct. 

They could never fathom the nights you and Eddie would end up cuddling each other while studying, pressed together too tightly to leave space for friendly speculation. They could never fathom the way Eddie would drag you into the darkest corners of the arcade, his hands tight on your hips and your breath brushing his cheek as he nuzzled his way against your neck, teeth and lips alike nipping at you in desperation until you caved and gave him a chaste kiss. They could never fathom the way Eddie had been holding you to him by the end of these nights spent by the lake, pressing his body into yours and reveling in every whimper that was only his to hear. 

No, they couldn’t fathom that half of the story. They knew you two were close, but they didn’t know just how intertwined your lifelines had become with the boy lying beside you. And that was fine, you didn’t care for them to know about those sacred moments laden with secrecy. All you really cared about was that the boy before you was all your summer nights and all your starry skies, brimming with clandestine glances and whispers of worship in moments alone. That was enough for you. Here, in your bubble of privacy by the lake sans persistent cicadas and gentle waves, he was yours. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Eddie murmurs, bringing a hand up to yours that continues to explore his body innocently, intertwining your fingers with his before resting them over his heart. 

It was drumming in his chest – you could feel each beat perfectly, breaking through the Iron Maiden logo and against your skin. After a few moments, your own racing heart synced with his, a quiet rhythm coursing through your veins. You hope he could feel it, too. 

“Just thinking about how it’s just us out here,” you whisper back, voice low and careful not to break this moment. All of the paths, all of the dead-end streets you had both endured, just for moments like this, “How it’s always just us.” 

You mean more than the fact that you never invite anyone else out on your endeavors, but Eddie takes it that way anyway, snorting. 

“You wanna start inviting the guys out here?” he jokes through more laughter, making you attempt to break your hand free from his in order to smack at his chest. He doesn’t let you, though, only tightening his fingers’ grip on yours, “Think that Gareth would like the show? Or maybe Jeff?”

“Stop,” you whine, starting to fight him with your whole body now, still trying to get your hand free. You nearly roll on top of him, your giggles now joining his, “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” 

He doesn’t reply as the two of you continue to wrestle. At some point, he takes his free hand and begins to tickle you, making your giggles turn into awful screeches, echoing in the warm, stale air around the two of you. You twist and twist and twist, trying to get away from his merciless grip. You’re no longer holding hands, him now utilizing both to attack your sides before moving toward your armpits.

“Don’t!” you gasp out, realizing what he was about to do. He’s on his side now, you flat on your back as he begins to hover over you, “Edward Munson, don’t you dare!” 

But he does dare. And even as you’re slapping at his shoulders, even when he overexaggerated how much your knee knocking against his thigh hurt, even when the weight of him presses you down into the blanket and threatens to bury you into the soft dirty of the small-town beach, you know it in your heart – there is no where else you’d rather be in this moment. 

The compromising position that results from the ridiculous tickling and wrestling is welcome, Eddie’s body heavy between your legs as his torso drapes over yours. Your face-to-face with him, now looking in those dazzling brown eyes for constellations rather than the sky above. 

His grin from the entire interaction has begun to ache, but it doesn’t falter as he bumps his nose to yours gently, “I’m sorry. I get it, I know what you mean. It’s always been just us,” he pauses before scrunching up his face, rearing up to continue to tease you before he playfully mocks, “You and me against the world, baby.”

You smack at his chest with fruition this time, making a soft oomph fall from his lips that pass over yours, “I was just trying to be sentimental, you dick.” 

The grin finally falls away, but the corners of his eyes stay crinkled, “I know.” 

When his lips finally meet yours, it’s like a breath of fresh spring air. You’re no longer in Hawkins’ muggy summer weather, instantly transported somewhere far away where the sun is just warm enough for comfort, where the breeze is just soft enough to wrap around your shoulders like a favorite blanket, where every strawberry is the sweetest and nothing will ever hurt. 

The world can be cruel, both in heat waves and hurting souls, but he never is. He’s a sanctuary – he’s your sanctuary. 

His sickly sweet kisses continue, taking your breath away in a willing way, leaving both your lips shades of summer blooms and spring flowers. His tongue is a welcome prodding, almost as if tending to your garden as he tries to get the two of you even closer. It’s not possible, but it doesn’t stop either of you; chests crush together as foreheads clash, and you yearn for a world where you could just curl up beneath each other’s skin, clamber your way into his chest and nestle right beside his pounding heart.

Only Artemis knows that he’s already made residency in yours, decorating your ribs and lungs with his flowers of adoration. 

Between desperate breaths and needy hands, hips beginning to roll and curse the clothing you two have yet to get rid of, you silently wonder where the two of you will end up in this lifetime. You hope it’s amongst the stars. You hope your constellation can find his across the night sky. 

 “Baby,” he begs. You don’t know what he’s begging for – for closeness, for your legs to fall further open and welcome him home, for you to swallow him whole with all the love pounding just beneath the surface of you – so you can only kiss him back with more urgency. 

The urgency follows through both of your movements. Urgency is what removes his shirt, your hands shaking as his chest is exposed to you in the moonlight. Urgency is what unbuttons your shorts, prickles of thorns when his fingertips make contact with your nude hip. Urgency is the slip of his hand into your panties, fingers curling and swirling in every right pattern to have you preening against him. 

“Off,” you plead with him once he has you down to just your underwear and him just his boxers. Your palms rack down desperately over the waistband before trailing down to his bulge, fevered movements earning more purpose as you press down on him and elicit a moan. 

He recovers his composure, only to shake his head down at you, curls ticking your cheeks, “Ever heard of a thing called patience, sweetheart?” 

“Fuck patience,” you immediately argue, pulling yourself back from his lips fully, eyes meeting and lips slick with each other’s spit, “We have the entire summer to be patient, Eddie. Just… Just fuck me. Please.” 

You awakened something in him with those words, you saw away whatever restraint he was holding onto so tightly. These nights always ended the same way, but they never felt the same. 

Familiarity waits in the shadows as each graze of his skin against yours ignites something new in you. New flowers, new petals, new budding growths that scream that this can’t last for just the summer. Whatever this is, as he removes your panties and his boxers, is not just a coming and going on the seasons. It’s not just a constellation only to be seen in the quiet of the night by two lovesick fools sneaking off to observe it. The heat of the summer that frizzes both your hair and his repeats it, the cooler breeze that rolls off the lake behind you guys encourages it. It may have taken the summer to tend to it, but this is only the beginning of it. Not the end – never the end.

And he fucks you like he knows it, too. He can hear the whispers of it all, telling him to pull you closer, telling him to take his time as he pushes into you and feels your walls stretch around him. It isn’t quite patience, it isn’t quite cruelty. It’s just you, and it’s just him. 

“Fuck,” he moans out once he’s fully sheathed inside you, cock pulsing as your wetness tightens on him. Really, it’s a shame that no deity will ever experience the devotion you feel pouring off of him as his mouth falls open for you, as his head rolls back and his eyes flutter close. He’s devoted to you – he’s yours just as you’re his, “Always so wet for me, baby. Always so good.” 

He finds a familiar rhythm to have you both gasping and groaning, and it still feels brand new. The way you feel him deep in your stomach, the way your thighs quiver and his abdomen tightens. It is all always new and it is all always euphoric. 

If you lift your eyes to find the stars above you almost winking at you, you can feel that he’s not fucking you as you’d requested; he’s making love to you. He is confessing his past sins and he is professing that he’d spend the rest of his days here, inside you, against you, with you. 

The roll of his hips don’t stay slow for long, though. You both know the love is there, and you both know what the two of you need. Eventually, soft confessions and loud professions become slapping of skin on skin, teeth knocking as you try to keep your lips on his. You swallow every moan and he grabs every mewl. You can feel his hands on your waist, your hips, your thighs. He is everywhere all at once, and it still isn’t enough. 

It’s not enough until his movements stutter, until his voice has grown hoarse from calling out your name for only the two of you to hear. Your nails rake down his back at some point, and you know that come tomorrow night, beside the lake, you’ll be tracing fading red lines that spell out a clear message: he belongs to me because he chose me. 

Your walls flutter around him and he knows without you saying a single word other than ramblings of his name that you’re close.

“Cum for me,” he’s begging again, lifting above you and looking down with wide, wet eyes, “Fuck- I- Please cum for me, baby. Need you to cum. Please.” 

You whine out in response, head tilting back into the grass around the edges of the blanket, consumed by him. Your ears ring as your vision blacks, the last image you see being his face contorted in pleasure, and you can’t decipher whether it’s the lake again that you hear or simply your own waves meeting his shore. 

The echoes of his voice surround you. 

“Just like that, sweetheart.”

“Doing so good for me.”

“Always such a good girl.” 

When his own high has its hold on him, his head is falling to your shoulder, his nose buried into your sweet spot behind your ear as you listen to every grunt and moan. He holds you painfully close, like he’s scared that maybe this is the end. You ponder bruises in the shapes of roses forming on your hips as he buries deep in you and he paints your walls with warmth, with devotion, with something unspoken only between the two of you. 

He collapses on top of you in the afterglow. Savors the moment, lets his lips pucker against your salty skin slick with sweat no longer just from summer. His own hair is matted at the knape of his neck, his cheeks, his forehead. 

You can’t help the laughter that bubbles from your chest. It’s overflowing, mingling with the still crying cicadas. He lifts his head and glances up at you, smiling shyly. 

“What?” 

You continue to laugh, unable to answer him, as he pulls out and cleans you up with his t-shirt. If you weren’t so delirious with unbridled delight, you’d scorn him. 

He doesn’t bother with redressing as he rolls to his original side of the blanket, laying on his back and wrapping his arms around you to pull you into him, “What’s so damn funny, my beautiful girl?” 

You think Artemis, maybe even Orion, would smile down at the sight of the two of you. Perhaps Gaia is sending her well wishes to the love-stricken look you two exchange in the form of a breeze that doesn’t bring more heat, only relief, only sanctuary. 

“We are not inviting Gareth or Jeff out here, ever,” you finally explain breathlessly, “This place is for just us, Munson.” 

He joins you in your lingering giggles, his chest shaking with them more than he vocalizes them as your cheek finds his heart and presses into his cheek. 

Whatever this is, label or not, is good. And it is only the beginning, never the end. Whether the others will ever know or not, the two of you always will, and that’s all that matters for the time being. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles, holding you just a little bit tighter, “Always just us, you heathen.” 

He brings a finger to your chin, tilting your face up. When he kisses you, it tastes like summertime and stardust, just as it should.

[chunkypossum]

New AZRIS dropping today!

Lighthouse in the Woods

Chapter One: The Call - 7k words

Read on Ao3

Day 7: of @polyacotarweek - Free Day

Title from the song:  Lighthouse -Patrick Watson

Playlist I wrote it to (which could explain the angst): devastating in that your soul will feel both like it’s dying and a part of something bigger

Summary:

Beron is dead. Where that leaves Autumn is up to the Cauldron... and maybe the Spymaster of the Night Court as well.

The New High Lord of Autumn isn't fairing too well with his new reign. Luckily his allies in the Night Court are willing to send him aid. The Spymaster is just too good at his job however, and the High Lord isn't quite sure how to let him go when his problems become manageable again.

As the Courts work together towards the stability of Prythian and a calmer future for the next generations, Azriel finds himself falling into a life that he never meant to have. Somehow, it's the best thing to ever happen to him.

Gentle and quiet, his friendship with Eris grows into something he never could have imagined. When this budding friendship turns into something more, they're going to have to decide how they define what a family is and where to call home.

Snippet under the cut

He took a small sip of his drink and without thinking, let out a low groan of pleasure. He closed his eyes and let his tongue dart out and lick the corner of his mouth, chasing the taste. Forgetting himself in his carelessness was not something Azriel was used to and the moment he realized what he had done he blushed fiercely from the tips of his ears all down the back of his neck.  “I-” He started stupidly, unsure of what to say to explain himself. “I’ve never tasted Autumn Whiskey before. It’s… got a lot of spice.”  “Beautiful save,” Eris murmured into his own glass, clearly trying very hard not to laugh outright. “Next I suspect you’ll try to curry favor by telling me my hair looks very clean?” After that, Azriel sat up a little straighter and sent a withering look towards the male seated across from him. Eris winked and Azriel returned it with a rude hand gesture. The bright laughter that followed was so unexpected that Azriel choked on his next sip of whiskey.

Tagged and don't want to be? Please let me know. Not being tagged and feeling left out? Please LET ME KNOW...

@hieragalbatorixdottir @talibunny30 @iftheshoef1tz @born-to-riot @pathfinderofnight @fell-in-luvs @fieldofdaisiies @aktrain @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @secret-third-thing @acourtofladydeath @pippsmcgee @youvereachedthenearest-lovergirl @baileybird71 @skyesayshi @yanny-77 @icey--stars

[3rinbkk]

yoongi’s masterlist 🍊

SERIES

shoot your shot by @yoon2k

genre: smut, fluff.

love lockdown by @personasintro

genre: zombie apocalypse au, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut. summary: it started with a supposed virus all around the world. it continues with people turning into monsters who want to eat everything that’s alive.

three tangerines by @kithtaehyung

genre: brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au; angst, smut.  summary: “when Yoongi told you he would be there if you needed anything, this isn’t what he had in mind”.  NOTE: THIS IS MY FAVORITE FIC EEEVEEEER,, just wanted to say thank for this beautiful masterpiece <3

cyberslut by @kimnjss

genre: social media au. smut, college au, secret identity, tutoring au, slight themes of infidelity. summary: he has no idea who you are... up front, you're sweet and innocent- but in reality you're the exact opposite. running your own nsfw account, where your favorite topic is his hands.

ONE SHOTS

your yoongi by @yoongiphoria

genre: fluff and smut. NOTE: i don’t know why i can’t tag you, but i genuinely hope you see this. thanks for your work &lt;3

don’t argue by @yoongiofmine

genre: fluff, smut, idol au, established relationship. summery: after almost six years together, yoongi asked you to move in with him. you’re done packing your whole apartment for the move, and he shows up to make sure your last night at your old place is special. 

so close by @namfinessed

genre: major angst, fluff, second chance romance summary: words are not enough for people who are so close and so in love, or a fit in which yoongi loses you but will do everything in his power to win you back.

yoongi chokes you as a xmas gift by @noteguk

genre: pwp, established relationship.

next door by @personasintro

genre: fluff (?), smut. summary: your neighbor doesn’t respect your complaints about him being loud, but you don’t let it slide so easily.

first love, last love by @kithtaehyung

genre: angst, smut; opposites to lovers, high school/university au. summary: after the most pivotal moment in your life, you never thought you would ever see him again. years later, you cross paths in the last place you ever imagined him to be. was this the universe giving you a second chance? or were yo destined to repeat the same mistakes you fought hard to forget?

[rav3nmuse]

Pippa & Levi // Chap 2

By @onyichii

[scorpioracha]

Dating Changbin

I’m so sorry for the wait you guys, but Changbin is finally here!! I want to warn you that besides the usual smut there is also some dating related angst in this part so just be mindful of that. Besides that make sure to reblog/like or comment if you enjoyed!!

Changbin 창빈

-your relationship with Changbin is another friends to lovers situation—except you had only met him when he was a trainee. It was one of those friendships where a day felt like a year and a year felt like a lifetime. You guys fit together like puzzle pieces, as cliche as it is you were his calm in the storm.

-During the survival show when he couldn’t see you, he looked forward to your nightly video calls. You two would talk about every or nothing, either way he felt at peace.

-You were one of the few people he fully let his guard down around. There was no need to posture, no need to be tough. When it was just the two of you there were no expectations.

-There was no way he couldn’t fall in love with you.

-you dated in secret until his debut—which is also when the two of you almost broke up.

-He had gotten so in his head about dragging you into the spotlight, he didn’t even ask you what you wanted—he tried to make that decision for you.

“I’m doing this for you!”he finally shouted, stock still in the middle of the room gripping his hair in frustration. “I…I’m doing this for you y/n”

“What exactly are you doing for me?”you said, “pushing me away? You don’t get to give up on us the minute things get hard!”

“…I’m not giving up on us”he said, and you couldn’t tell if there were tears in his eyes or if it was just the reflection of the moon through the window. “I-I I’m not-“

“Then what are you doing, Changbin?”you asked. That one question opened a dam of insecurities you didn’t even know were being stored.

“I don’t know”he sniffled, roughly wiping at his eyes. “I don’t know what I’m doing”

-The rest of that night was spent huddled in the middle of the room, bodies intertwined in one another as you just listened. You sat and you held and you listened.

-As the group grew so did your relationship. It felt as though the last forgotten brick of whatever wall was left standing between you two was destroyed. You were introduced to the boys and to no one’s surprise they all adored you, especially the maknae line.

“y/n noona come play with us!”I.N whined, pulling on your arm.

“Yeah yeah! We’re gonna play Mario kart, come onnnn”Felix said grabbing the other one. With an aborted sigh you let the two pull you into the living room of the dorms, Changbin watching with a fond smile.

-And you couldn’t forget the hyung line.

“Ya y/n-ah, have more”Lee know said, piling an extra serving of rice onto your plate. You would argue but his tone left no room for discussion.

“Changbin-ah, have you been feeding her?”he asked, waving the spoon in his direction.

“Yeah, where’d those little bread cheeks go?”Hyunjin asked, turning to squint at your boyfriend.

-Even though he ended up in the hot seat for interrogation multiple times a week—even though you could take care of yourself—it left his heart feeling full in a way only beats and melodies could describe. Two of the most important parts of his lives melding together in perfect harmony. Well. Usually perfect harmony.

“Changbin come get your demon!”Chan cried as he raced through the hallway. Changbin didn’t even have time to ask before he saw you chasing after him with a spatula in hand. His eyes locked with Seungmin. “Channie Hyung ate her bingsu”

“It was an accident!”Chan screamed from down the hall.

“Yeah, and so will your death!”

Changbin let out a dreamy sigh and leaned against the wall. “I’m in love with her”

-with 3RACHA,comebacks and other commitments, dates with this man are never planned.

-It’s a lot of studio hangouts and late night texts to put shoes on and be at your front door in five minutes.

-You spend a lot of your time in the passenger seat of his car, going 90 down empty roads and watching the moonlight.

-When he does get a day off though, he’s all yours. He does harbor guilt though because a lot of these days off are spent in bed with him absolutely knocked out. He’ll wake up a few times during his nap and try to get up mumbling apologies but you just shush him and snuggle him tighter.

-I’m gonna mention it. I’m gonna do it.

-Aegyo.

-That’s all I’m gonna say. You want a song sung to you in a baby voice? You got it. You wanna see gods menu performed in tiny? Who is he to deny you.

-Also do not get it twisted, he is absolute putty in your hands but you are his baby. You want for nothing when you’re with him. Touch starved? Good luck getting him off of you. Hungry? You will be in his lap eating kimbap within the next thirty minutes. Bored? Will perform all of the oddinary tracks for you complete with costume changes and moving parts. How he managed to smuggle sparklers inside, you’ll never know.

-Refuses to admit that he’s an even bigger baby. If his face is not smothered in your tiddies at least once a day he will scream.

-His favorite activity is honestly just holding you. Changbin is huge on skinship so he wants to be touching you at all time. Pinkies linked,hand holding,laying on top of you so you’re completely immobilized, he is a fan of it all.

NSFW

-service top service top service top-

-This boy wants to make you feel good. That is his top priority 100% of the time. If he doesn’t cum, it’s fine. If you don’t cum? That’s not even gonna be an option.

-A big fan of missionary. Our boy is a softie, he wants to be able to see your face and kiss your cheeks as he thrusts into you.

-Tell no one but, he likes to hold your hand during sex🥺. It helps ground him and makes his heart feel all mushy and gooey and shit.

-He has a subspace. He’s aware that he has a subspace. He’s just scared to fully be that vulnerable during sex due to some not so good experiences so you gotta take it easy with him.

-He’s not fully opposed but if he feels himself slipping he will start to freak out and regain control. You honestly just gotta meet him where he’s at on that day cause progress isn’t ✨linear✨

-The few times that he was willing to go down for you, it was precious.

-Eyes scrunched shut and biting his lip in a way that looked almost painful as you wrapped your hand around his length pumping slowly, just slow enough to not be enough.

-He’s quieter than a lot of people would assume. Little grunts here and there but a lot of breathy whines. Although he raps hard his voice is naturally soft. When he cums, it’s heavy breathing and choked off grunts.

-he’s soft all around in general, even if he’s fucking you to the point of tears he’s letting you know how much you mean to him. Rubbing his thumb over your cheek and petting your sweaty hair as he’s making you see cosmos.

-after concerts he has a tendency to pull you into closets and rut into you like he’s never felt a pussy in his life, whimpering into the crook of your neck as tears mixed with sweat run down his face. He’s so excited and overwhelmed that he can barely keep his legs underneath him, this ends up with you two on the floor in some haphazard position as he drills your cunt rambling about how good you make him feel and how he’s so lucky. Might even slip up and call you mommy

-The only time he’s anything but soft on you is if you make him jealous. You made the mistake of wearing Jeongin’s hoodie one time because it was right there and next thing you know you’re in the bathroom bent over the counter.

-he’s not a degrader, not at all. It doesn’t feel right or natural for him to be saying anything of that. He’d rather tell you how good you feel around him and how much he loves your pussy🥺

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

i have writers block-requests open :3

[imabillyami]

It is 4am and I just finished writing roughly 3k of smut lmao.

[sneetsnootyoit]

In the process of writing the most FOUL, kinky, toe-curling smut for an Agent Whiskey x Reader fic that has enemies to lovers and smut and forced proximity at one point. There's a lot of feelings and porn with plot. This is probably going to be one of the most unhinged things I write. How unhinged? Just look at the tags, man

I really hope people actually read and like this fic when it's done 🫣

[medic-simp]

Just A Fraction - Mild Smut

Silco x Reader Anxiety Attack Comfort

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences || WC: 2497 Content Warnings: Anxiety/Panic Attack, Comforting Anxiety/Panic Attack, Mild Smut

Context: Within the tempting offer of a work-free evening, Silco suggests he and his partner, Ezra, get comfortable (in a sexy way). Struggling with negative experiences from the past, Ezra is struck by a panic attack and Silco, being the gentleman he is, walks her through it.

Cover was made with Canva

“Hello, princess,” Silco hummed, a cunning grin plastered onto his face. He was standing in front of his desk, leaning back onto it with his hands, one leg crossed in front of the other. Ezra had only just walked into the room after being called up by Sevika, but she wasn’t surprised in the least. Unable to hide the growing smile on her face, she closed the door and sauntered forward. Silco pushed off the desk to meet her halfway, one hand going to her waist and the other to hold her jaw. “I see you didn’t need me for anything work-related,” Ezra pointed out, and Silco confirmed with a kiss, just a quick peck on the cheek. “I don’t have any meetings, errands, or work to catch up on this evening,” he said, peppering more kisses on Ezra’s face. “I’m wondering if you’d like to…” Silco ventured to her neck, licking and kissing eagerly. “Perhaps spend some time together?”

Ezra lifted her hands, one locking fingers onto Silco’s vest and the other holding the base of his head, brushing the short, trimmed hair there and pressing him further into her neck. She found it hard to form a response with Silco sucking bruises on her skin that she would no doubt later have to hide with a turtleneck, but she managed. “I would like that,” she whispered, tightening her hold on Silco’s vest. She could feel him smile against her as he continued to litter her jaw, neck, and collarbone with kisses and bites.

“Tell me if anything is wrong,” he said, kneading Ezra’s sides with thin fingers. She nodded, but Silco didn’t seem to like that very much. He pulled away. “Words, lovely,” he whispered. “I need words.” His thumb pressed into Ezra’s lower lip with the slightest pressure, forming a small pout. Ezra waited for Silco to move his hand before she spoke. “I will tell you if something is wrong,” she confirmed, earning an approving grumble from Silco. “Good girl,” he growled before diving back into Ezra’s neck.

Uneven teeth bit against the hickeys on her skin, hands clutching her hips tightly as he pulled her against him. Ezra was guided backwards until she was pressed against the door, Silco’s lips pressing hungrily against hers. She could do nothing but hold him, left arm going around the back of his neck - careful not to touch with her hand - and right hand holding the scarred side of his face. 

Soon, Silco was back at her neck and collarbone, letting his hands venture up Ezra’s shirt. She felt the pads of his fingers inching up her stomach, reaching for her breasts and suddenly became very aware of how close he was to her, of how his hands had pushed past the protective barrier of her clothes. A breath caught in her lungs at the thought of invasion and she exhaled shakily, making a feeble attempt to physically swallow her rushing heart rate, quickly becoming much more scared than excited. She tried to calm herself but every breath she took was too short, it didn’t satiate the sudden burning need for air. Her mind swam, something wasn't right, the sudden feeling of being in danger was consuming her.

Everything happened too fast, Ezra’s breath quickened before she finally gasped for air, her hands pushing against Silco’s chest. Silco was off in less than a second, hands retracting as he backed away from Ezra, giving her space. Her hands clutched her chest as if clawing her lungs through her skin and bones would make them work properly.

“I can't-'' she wheezed, pulse pounding in her ears and air thinly escaping her. “I can’t breathe.” Silco’s eyes widened with panic and he carefully approached Ezra, guiding her to the sofa nearby. She sat down, hands shaking like she were her own high-magnitude earthquake and legs trembling just as much. Tears were streaming down her face and Silco took one of Ezra’s hands in his, her other hand holding tight onto the front of her shirt, the fabric heaving up and down with her panicked sobs. “3-3-3 rule, remember?” Silco said, thumbs brushing over the back of her hand. “Three things you hear.” Ezra closed her eyes and exhaled out slowly, shakily, her breath uneven as it passed her lips. “Your breathing,” she started, nodding slowly as if to encourage herself and Silco nodded with her, but she didn’t see it. Ezra thought for a moment. “I hear skin.” Again unseen, Silco looked down where his hands soothed hers, the gentle caress producing a brushhh sound. “Good, very good,” Silco praised. Ezra swallowed again but a sob broke it, resulting in an unceremonious snort. She laughed at the sound but that broke too, leading to another pathetic noise. “I can hear my tinnitus,” she finished, opening her eyes to Silco’s gentle smile. Her heart was still pounding but it was less overwhelming, not as frantic. Her fingers loosened on her shirt and she lowered that hand to let Silco take hold of it.

“Now three things you see,” Silco said, and Ezra looked around the dimly-lit office. Her eyes flickered back and forth between a few items, picking the more vague, simple things to focus on to keep her still rapid breathing out of her immediate thoughts. “The bookshelf.” Silco nodded, observing the bookshelf and then Ezra’s hands, not shaking so badly. “The stained glass window.” Ezra took a deep breath in and then out, the task much easier than before. “The floor.” Letting the words leave felt like a relief, the completed second step out of three.

“Good,” Silco praised again, his hands leaving Ezra’s. “Now move three parts of your body,” Silco instructed, and Ezra adhered. She lifted her hand and rotated the joint of her wrist, stretched out her legs, and rolled her shoulders back. Silco smiled at her, the awkward gesture seeming to question her state of mind. “Better,” she said, answering the unspoken query. Silco nodded, his eyes falling to Ezra’s hands as he took them again.

“What was the trigger?” he asked, his slight accent peeking through more prominently when he said the word ‘what’. Ezra looked at Silco for a moment, hesitating before she answered. “Your hand in my shirt,” she said weakly, drying her eyes with the sleeves of her shirt and returning her hand to Silco’s. She didn’t really want to let go of him, he felt like her grounding rock at that moment, like she would drift off if she let go for too long. “At least I think it was.” She didn’t think that, she knew, but the almost ashamed look on Silco’s face made her not want to be sure that’s what it was. Was there any way to convince herself that he knew it wasn’t his fault ever?

“I’m sorry,” he said, and Ezra was quick to cut him off. “Please don't apologize, it's not your fault.” Her words rushed out as she tried to push down the guilt flooding her chest, shaking her head as if to physically dismiss the anxiety. Silco lifted a hand and wiped away a stray tear from Ezra’s cheek, his hand lingering for a moment before he brought it back to his lap. “I was moving too fast,” he said. Ezra made to speak up but Silco shushed her with a small twitch of his lips. She didn’t know how he did that; it shocked her to say the least, but she didn’t think too hard about it. “I should have asked before doing something like that.” Silco’s heterochromatic eyes seemed to pierce Ezra’s soul. He was more serious than she wanted him to be.

“It's fine,” Ezra assured, giving Silco’s hands a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sorry it was so out-of-nowhere, we can try again if you want.” She had meant for the suggestion to sound a bit more cheery than it ended up coming out as, and her weak smile probably didn’t do much to help convince Silco that she was fine.

The kingpin himself seemed uncomfortable with the suggestion. “I think we should just try picking it up tomorrow.” His voice was hushed, catering to the fact that Ezra was still recovering from her panic attack. She hated how easily he could read her because that meant he knew she was in a fragile state. “No,” she said, it almost sounded like a childish whine. “No I can continue if you want, if you’re still riled up.” Silco looked down. “I’m fine now, everything’s fine,” Ezra whispered. She could hear that lie seep past her lips with no degree of persuasion and it made her cringe internally.

“Don’t think about me and what I might want,” Silco said, seeming to scold Ezra like she was a child. “You’re clearly not ready to do this today. We can try again tomorrow.” What?! Ezra’s brow furrowed, unknowingly by her, and she sputtered to find her words. “Not ready?” She was aware of the almost accusing tone she held, but she was too mad to care. “Do you think I’m not capable of having a sexual relationship or something?” Despite his controlled temperament and calm gaze in the face of Ezra’s frustration, Silco remained firm with his follow-up. “I think you’re perfectly capable of a sexual relationship. But as a result of your prior experiences, you are also perfectly capable of a negative reaction to intimacy.” Silco’s hands shifted to close over one of Ezra’s, holding tightly. “I don’t blame you, nor do I find it annoying. However, you must stop trying to put yourself in a position where you think you’re overreacting, that you’re unjustified, or degrading my experience or enjoyment.” Silco’s eyes still did not leave her. “Do not ever think that your reaction to something like this is not justified.”

Ezra thought for a moment, letting the words sink in. She knew Silco was right, and she knew what he was talking about; trying to act like she was comfortable for other people, worried that her boundaries would inhibit the other party’s pleasure. Ezra felt her shoulders relax, her entire upper body slumping forward just slightly until she gave into the need to hold and be held. She leaned into Silco, wrapping her arms around his familiarly thin waist and burying her face against his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered into his shirt. She felt her nose burn with oncoming tears but she held them back to the best of her abilities. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” Silco said, one arm folding around Ezra’s middle while the other cradled the back of her head, holding her close to him. “I don’t want you to be concerned with my enjoyment when you’re upset, that’s all,” he whispered, voice lowering with every passing second until all Ezra could hear was his breathing just above her ear. She nodded and the tears she tried so desperately to resist came forward. It felt like they just suddenly flooded out of her eyes, but she couldn’t muster up the words, ‘Sorry for soaking your shirt.’ She doubted Silco would want to hear her say sorry again anyhow.

Ezra let the tears flow once they had started, left with no energy to try to stop them, and eventually she couldn’t tell which was soaked more; her face or Silco’s shoulder. Silco calmed her through it though, running a hand over her back and whispering gentle assurances as she coughed up pitiful sob after pitiful sob.

After some variable amount of time - Ezra didn’t bother to check the clock when she began crying and when she stopped - Ezra pulled off Silco’s shoulder, settling to rest against him. Silco’s hand remained on her back, drawing gentle shapes with his fingers.

“I understand,” he whispered, holding Ezra close to him. She couldn’t help but think in the moment how his arms around her felt like a blanket, gentle and warm. A much needed and much appreciated comfort. “It took me a very long time to be able to trust people with…” He paused, audibly taking a breath. “Within sexual relationships.” Ezra listened quietly, letting Silco be candid in the moment. “And it took me much longer to trust myself,” he admitted, looking down at Ezra with eyes that observed every inch of her. Her brow furrowed in question. “Yourself?” Silco nodded. “I had to learn and trust myself not to push people away.”

Ezra tried not to show it too obviously but she was surprised at how open the kingpin was being, considering the reservation he tended to prefer. Of course she wasn’t complaining, it was uplifting to listen to Silco talk about his emotions, personal thoughts, what goes on in his mind. Ezra highly doubted she would ever know or understand half of what was really in his mind, but just a fraction of all the possible emotion, vulnerability, openness, or trust; that was good enough for her.

“What I’m intending to say is that I sympathize with you.” Silco’s voice was soft, gentle, genuine. “I want you to know that you can take as long as you need to process your emotions or become comfortably intimate with me.” A smile grew on his face, subtle but not entirely unnoticed, and rather sly. “Trust that I’ll be fine. I have working hands that may cater to my fix if need be.” Ezra snorted out a laugh into her hand and she heard Silco breathe out a small chuckle as well.

“You gross old man,” she muttered, sitting up and wiping her face dry. Silco released a sudden, dry cackle, his head cocking back as he laughed. “Don’t be a smartass, lovely. I simply find myself a resourceful individual,” he drawled, leaning forward and kissing Ezra’s forehead. She rolled her eyes. “You’re a horndog,” she jabbed, earning a dismissive shrug from Silco. “A high stress job requires frequent stress relief.” He crossed his arms over his narrow chest, lifting his leg to rest it over his knee.

“Whatever you say,” Ezra breathed, standing up from the sofa and tidying herself, smoothing down her shirt and drying her face once again. Silco huffed out another small laugh, lifting a hand to shoo Ezra out. “If you insist on berating me then go,” he said, plucking a book off a nearby shelf and flipping through the pages. Ezra stalled for a moment with a slight pout hanging on her lips.

“It’s not my intention to offend you but I’ll go regardless,” she said, bringing her hands behind her back and locking her fingers together. “I’ll just go to bed early tonight.” Silco thought for a moment and nodded. “I’ll be there within the next hour or so,” he said, watching as Ezra approached. She leaned down and kissed his cheek, seeing just the slightest of smiles on his face as she turned to walk out.

Just a fraction of all that emotion.

[pinkcaddyconfessions]

Hello everyone! Thank you for all the love you have given “Anything for You, Darlin”. Chapter two is coming out some time today!