#either fucking promote me or shut the fuck up. i do not need your praise. i need you to show you mean it.

[cuntwrap--supreme]

Guess who has to talk to their GM today because yesterday they screamed at the guys who own the bar they work for/told the guy who took their job that they'd likely get in a fistfight with him if he didn't leave them alone?

[screeching-bunny]

may i request some yan!butler/maid hcs? ur fics/hcs r like my lifeline ALSO love love the name Ligma (srry for the poor grammar, english is my first language/hj)

Yandere! Butler Hcs

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

A/N: LIGMA BALLZ. Anyways thanks for liking my name it’s so fucking awesome isn’t it?

🌟 Yandere! Butler who’s a year older than you and has been serving you ever since your teenage years. He’s dedicated and willing to spend the rest of his life serving you as long as it means being by your side forever. He first becomes enamored by you when you happen to come by the shop he was working at the time. He was enchanted by you and after finding out that you were a noble, he began grooming himself in order to be the perfect servant for you. When the position of being an attendant opened up in your manor, he quickly signed up for it. Yandere! Butler made sure to perform his duties as perfectly and diligently as possible while in that position. It was all to ensure that he would be promoted to be personal butler.

🌟 Yandere! Butler was not able to communicate with you when he was first hired to your manor due to being too low of a rank. He could only stare at you longingly from afar and wish that he could be closer to you. Yandere! Butler during this time period would discreetly follow you around wherever you went. Although he wasn’t allowed to talk to you, he still wanted to feel like he was a part of your life, like some secret protector. While doing this he’s definitely stolen a few of your possessions and stored them for his own personal use.

🌟 Yandere! Butler is so enthralled when he finally gets promoted to being your butler. Finally!!! After all these years he can finally talk and touch his beloved person! He’s so excited that he can’t stop shaking with joy when he hears the news. Every waking moment of his life from this point in time will belong to you and only you. He is willing to do anything you ask of him. No matter how small or difficult the task is, he will make sure to complete it as if his life depended on it. As long as it gets you to look and notice him then it is all worth it.

🌟 Yandere! Butler is only loyal towards you. He is not willing to take orders from anyone but you, even if it’s from your own family members. How dare they try to take away his time and thoughts of you away from him? Have they no shame?! Yandere! Butler would definitely be willing to fight anyone who dares to insult you. He doesn’t care if they are young or elderly, his hands are rated E for everyone. His love language is words of affection, so get ready to hear a barrage of compliments every waking moment of your life. Even when you’re not around, he’s still singing praises about you much to the displeasure of literally everyone else.

Yandere! Butler: “Did you see them today! I swear they get more dashing every time I see them. I wonder if they’ll let me touch their–”

Random Maid: (crying) “PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SHUT UP!!! IT’S BEEN TWO HOURS!!!”

🌟 Yandere! Butler is in charge of your everyday routine. He’s the one planning all of your meals and makes them personally. He will get upset if anyone but him makes you food because he makes sure to plan it perfectly in order to fit your nutritional needs. He makes sure to take care of you as if you were porcelain glass. His movements with you are light and delicate almost as if he were scared that you would break if he were ever too rough with you. He loves to hear you talk about your day and ramble on about meaningless things. It’s somewhat therapeutic to him and it’s like listening to an asmr podcast in his eyes. He takes in everything that you say and a majority of times gives good advice when you need it. If you ever fall in love, never tell him. He will either gut that person alive or give you the worst possible love advice you have ever heard.

“This guy I met at the bakery was super attractive. How do you think I should approach him?”

Yandere! Butler: (screaming on the inside) “You should tell him that he’s gross. I heard nowadays guys find it attractive when people play hard to get.”

🌟 Yandere! Butler legitimately thinks that you are the most perfect person in the universe and that no one deserves you, including himself. He doesn’t care that you may not ever love him, just allow him to stay by your side all of eternity and he’ll be happy. You could tear him apart or take everything he owns and he’d still be loyal toward you. When he signed that contract, he did not only just promise to be your butler but also made a heartfelt vow that everything he does will be for your greater good. He loves the look of a smile on your face and would do anything to keep it there. Murder is not beneath him, if anyone dares to make you cry then he won’t hold back. Whether it be poison, decapitation, drowning, and etc. He’s willing to do it for you, all in the name of love.

🌟 Yandere! Butler takes care of any task that you deem stressful and overwhelmed by. If he sees any type of distraught look on your face he is taking over. Has that business deal been causing you to lose sleep? Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, he’ll make sure to handle everything. Are you getting a migraine while doing some paperwork? Well then, wait right there as he brews you some tea and he’ll get right in on working on it. If he ever sees you sneeze and sniffle then he is going straight mama bear mode. He’ll force you to stay in bed even if you aren't really sick and he won’t listen to any of your protests. No job is a headache to him when it involves you in the picture. So why don’t you just sit back and relax so that he can just take care of you.

[lokiinmediasideblog]

I Intentionally Start Shit in the Loki Tag

If you complain about Sylvie being "harmful queer rep" BUT want "Lady Loki" in the MCU, which was Loki possessing Sif's body just to torment Sif, I need you to sit down and shut up. a. Genderfluid people don't go by "Lady " when they're femme or women. b. If you don't see the transphobic dogwhistles in the comics possession subplot, I don't know what to tell you... But let's say that hag that wrote those crappy books would love it. c. If you weren't aware about this, maybe you should read the wiki at least before giving uninformed opinions.

I definitely agree that they should not have led people on with the promise of genderfluid rep during the promotion of the series. But get mad at Disney/Marvel for that. Not at the writers or Sophia Di Martino that had to cave in to Feige's demands. That's literally what they have to do.

I really don't give a damn about the "autogynephilia" allegations, which again, is ALSO PRESENT IN CIS WOMEN. Like why the fuck should I care about someone finding themselves hot? There's fascists out there. AGP even if it was a trans-specific thing harms no one. The only harm said to come from it is DUE TO FASCISM because it plays into RESPECTABILITY POLITICS.

If you use AI to create a "proper" Lady Loki or love interest for Loki, you can't complain about the blatant product placement in S2. I am not a fan of product placement either and won't defend it, but those are the rules. Show some integrity. And before you ask, I have not given a cent to Disney since they pissed me off with attempts to trademark Dia de los Muertos for Coco.

If you complain about how being a "Loki" is not a role (unlike Spiderman) and how it should have been all 100% Tom Hiddleston, you don't get to call it selfcest as a gotcha, because you're already differentiating between the variants with different DNA. Like do y'all hate selfcest or not? Make up your mind. The series treats a Loki as an archetype of sorts, so it can be a role. Also, having the same name does not make you related because we don't know what Sylvie's parents are? And we don't even know if Sylvie is also a Jotun, a prop claims she isn't.

If you say you want Sylvie dead but claim to not be misogynistic, because you'd love if a specific love interest from the comics or mythology replaced her, STFU. You only like those because you can project whatever the fuck you want onto them.

If you claim Sylvie is a misogynistic depiction of women but salivate over characters written by cishet white men in the 1960s-1980s that made wanting to fuck Thor or being in a monogamous marriage with Loki their entire personality (there's so MANY OF THESE), STFU. Do you hear yourself? And no, it's not misogynistic of me, a woman, to criticize offensive depictions of women by cishet white men. They're not real.

Our MCU!Loki is not the young adult Ikol reincarnation currently. Of course 20-something Verity is not going to be there! The Loki show should be praise for having multiple female cast members around the same age as the protagonist and pragmatic clothing choices that allowed SdM to nurse her baby.

Selfcest isn't real and I cry tears of boredom whenever someone clutches their pearls over it.

The comics aren't perfect. As much as I loved the recent Dan Watters run (and German Peralta's art), the comics art has some very questionable tendencies, especially regarding Loki's nose when she's femme. It's associated with how some kinds of facial features are considered masculine or feminine (and racialized). Noses have no gender, ffs! Women with nose bumps exist! For some reason Loki always has a tiny button nose when she's a woman or femme. There's also the BLATANT physiognomy that has ALWAYS PLAGUED Thor comics since their inception, and Loki's facial features as they've become more "grey" and less evil is an interesting study. Peralta's far from being the only artist with this problem, and is far from being the most problematic. For comparison from Loki (2023) run:

Loki from ye olden days:

[whatyourusherthinks]

Bob Marley: One Love Review

Bob Marley: One Love has had a weird pre-watching history for me. When I heard the premise, I thought, dope. I'd totally watch a Bob Marley biopic. Then a manager at work told me it was supposed to come out last year and they had screenings that went down horribly. Egh. But the opening weekend sold a lot of tickets! And sales went significantly down shortly after...

Whatever happens this is going to be interesting.

What's The Movie About?

The biopic shows the attempted assassination of Bob and the aftermath of everyone's survival. Kinda.

What I Liked.

First, the music is really good. Obviously. There was a couple moments here and there I thought were pretty interesting, for example they showed Bob getting the inspiration of the album Exodus and that was cool. I liked Bob's charity work and how they showed his beliefs through his music career. And there was a pretty touching moment at the end when Bob confronts his would-be assassin, although I don't know if it actually happened or not.

What I Didn't Like.

The story is unfocused. It starts about Bob dealing with the aftermath of the shooting and having PTSD, but then he moves to London and it seems like the movie completely forgets about that plot point. There's three plot developments that seem like they should important but are brought up 40 minutes before the credits roll and resolve super quick, or is the outcome of the plot point is explained with text over actual pictures or video of the real Bob Marley. Speaking of which, this is a nitpick, but the actor who plays Bob Marley does not look like him, and it's really obvious with the ending. Also, there's a scene of the Bob singing 'Three Little Birds' and he stops and the crowd continues to sing in the trailer that is not in the final movie. Speaking if nitpicks, there's like a million flashbacks in the movie that aren't presented super well, but whenever the flashback to Bob and his wife when they are young adults (I think they're supposed to be like 18 or 20) the actors look 15. Also, I went to see this movie with my sister. And we couldn't understand half the dialogue. Is it because we're two white kids who've never been to or met anyone from Jamaica? Probably.

My final criticism is getting it's own section because I feel like I'll need to justify myself, but half this movie is a shitty religious movie. What I mean by that is half the movie is about Rastafari and how Bob Marley is a believer of that religion, but rather that having an explanation of the religion or focusing on debate between people of different faiths, it's just dogma. Either Bob says he's struggling emotionally and his wife or his priest says "Believe Rastafari!" and he's all better, or some white guy is questioning how he's promoting himself or making his music and he says "I'm doing it the way Rastafari wants!" and it completely shuts down the conversation. See, I've praised spirituality in other movies like The Color Purple, but that felt like I was being explained a unique perspective on an already existing belief. I like learning about theology because I'm gaining knowledge that can be pretty damn fascinating. The only thing I really learned from this movie is that Lions are an important symbol of Rastafarians, but I don't know why. It's just reiterating the movie's beliefs, refusing to accept criticism, and saying fuck you if you disagree.

Final Summation.

So the movie is not good. It's fine, but my big sticking point is that the only reason to see this movie is to hear the music, and to learn about Bob Marley. And you could literally get the same experience reading Bob's Wikipedia page while listening to a Bob Marley and the Wailers record. So save your money on a ticket.

[piecksz]

prove it | (m)

pairings: modern!jean kirstein x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, mirror sex, penetrative sex, saliva, fingering, finger sucking, handjob, slight mentions of breeding, explicit language

words: 3k+

summary: your jealousy sparks a bitter argument between you and jean, but he shows in more ways than one, that you’re the only person he’s infatuated with. 

a/n: as always, if you wanna fully immerse yourself in the smut hehe you can listen to the songs i looped incessantly while writing: girls need love too by summer walker and excitement by trippie redd and PARTYNEXTDOOR (you cannot tell me that jean wouldn’t listen to either he’s so sexy omg pls free me from my brainrot)

You gripped the fabric of your dress, hiking it up above your ankles to make sure the material didn’t get caught under the sharp heels of your shoes while you stormed into the house. Seething with outrage, you swung the front door shut behind you, savoring the few seconds of solitude you had before Jean trailed behind you clamorously.

“I already told you, and I’m telling you—again—I didn’t know she was going to be there!” Jean was insistent, his footfall demanding on your tail as he followed you into the kitchen. His fingers were carelessly twined in his hair, an overt demonstration of his stress.

You hastily tossed your purse onto the counter, paying no mind to the way it slid across the granite and almost toppled over its edge onto the floor. “Bullshit Jean. It was your fucking event, how did you not know she was gonna be there?” You spared him an irate glance, it was the first time you’d looked at him since the two of you left the venue.

The entire ride home, Jean had attempted to make conversation, asking you if you’d enjoyed yourself and trying to solicit your opinion on how he’d done coordinating his company’s milestone event. Following the successful closing of a large venture deal and the expansion of the corporation, his boss had entrusted him to organize a company soirée to celebrate, and if Jean’s event had managed to go off without a hitch, a possible promotion was in the cards for him. However, much to Jean’s confusion you were quiet in your responses, mainly giving one word answers and little praise.

After relentless prodding, you snapped, admitting you were irritated after seeing Jean talking to Mikasa, an old coworker and friend of his. You’d disappeared for only a moment to use the bathroom, but when you returned, the two were engrossed in what seemed like interesting chatter. Seeing the way Jean laughed after everything she said prompted the agitation in your lower stomach to boil up into your throat. Nothing was that funny.

“Maybe I overlooked her name on the guest list.” Jean’s fingers left his hair and wrapped around his tie, tugging to loosen it.

“Oh, you sure looked over her while you two were talking and laughing.” You stood on your toes to grab a mug from the cabinet before slamming its wooden door shut. “What was so funny? The fact that you used to fawn over her like an idiot?”

You shuffled back over to the sink, flipping the faucet and watching as the mug filled with water before bringing the cup to your lips to take a long drink. You sighed as the liquid quenched your dry throat, raw from yelling. You peered over the top of the mug at Jean, eyes following him as he made his way over to the selection of hard liquor against the kitchen wall.

“There you go. Name calling like a fucking child.” He poured himself a generous glass of booze, chuckling wryly and taking a sip.

You pulled the mug away from your mouth. “You—are so—,” you started, but your words disbanded into a loud and frustrated groan.

“I’m so what?” Jean swirled the auburn liquid around in his glass, pretending to look more interested in the way it moved than in the conversation you two were having.

“You don’t want me to finish that sentence, Jean. You really don’t.” You set your cup down loudly, so forcefully it might have shattered with just another ounce of force. “Stop acting like I’m overreacting. You know I’m not the jealous type, you fucking know that. I wouldn’t care, but you know you guys have history together.”

“Yeah, history means that it was in the past,” Jean retorted. “It was in the fucking past.”

You leaned forward on the counter, dipping your head low as if to question the validity of your boyfriend’s reply. “You’re telling me you’d be okay seeing me with an old flame?” You laughed humourlessly.  “You complained for ten minutes after a waiter called me sweetheart.”

Jean took another long sip, then exhaled. “Because he clearly couldn’t tell the difference between horny and hospitality. Now you’re blaming me because you couldn’t see that?”

You nodded sardonically, a disbelieving smile shadowing on your lips while you reached behind your neck to unclasp your necklace. “And how’s that any different from this?”

“Mikasa never liked me back, what’s the problem? Did you just pick a topic out of a hat to bitch about?” Jean downed the rest of his alcohol, and then returned the short glass to the display. He wiped at his lips with his thumb and started back toward the kitchen.

“Fuck you, Jean.”

He let out a low chuckle while he rounded the length of the counter, sauntering in long strides until he was behind you with his large hands planted on the curve of your hips. He dipped his head, letting his mouth ghost by your ear. “You know, you’re kind of hot when you’re mad.” His palms began roaming, first gliding across your stomach before moving to your backside and cupping your ass in the curve of his hand. “Especially in that dress. You look really fucking good, baby.”

You barely cracked a smile. “Yeah?”

Jean’s low voice rumbled against your back. “Hell yeah.”

You turned around to face him, gazing up at him from behind sultry lids. “Then how about…,” you started, teasing him by fiddling around with the loose buttons on his shirt. “You sleep dreaming about all the things you wish you could do to me tonight. Because you’re not getting any.” Your seductive expression fell, and you pushed him backwards so you could slide out of the space between his body and the counter.

As you retired into your bedroom, you heard Jean’s weary voice echo from outside. “You’re cold.”

“Good,” you responded back resoundingly. “Maybe Mikasa’s free.”

“Maybe she is!” he retaliated, and although he wasn’t in front of you, you could nearly see the way he rolled his eyes at your spiteful jab.

You rolled your eyes back. “Shitforbrains.”

You removed your earrings, throwing them onto the dresser with your necklace before slipping out of your heels and stepping out of your dress. You struggled to make haste, trying to get ready for bed as quickly as you could before Jean entered the bedroom and had a chance to say anything that would incite another feud. Lazy and clad in your undergarments, you hauled yourself into the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror lethargically while you brushed your teeth and removed your makeup with halfhearted effort.

“Do I need to prove it to you?”

You removed the cold wipe from your lids, opening your eyes and watching as Jean wandered into the bathroom. He continued walking until he met you at the sink, and he wrapped his long arms around your frame again.

“Come here,” he said, pulling you into him until the space between your bodies waned. You gave him an unamused glare through your reflection in the mirror, and resumed rubbing away at your persistent eyeliner.

“Should I mark up that pretty neck of yours?” Jean nestled his face into the curve of your neck, pressing messy, carnal kisses along the side of your throat until his lips met the dip underneath your jawline. He lightly brushed over it, knowing it was your sweet spot. Every time he wanted to turn you into a frenzy of moans, that spot was the easiest way he knew how.

“Or maybe I should have you carry our child.” His hands were hot against your stomach, the soft pad of his finger drawing a delicate circle around your navel. You were glad it didn’t tickle enough to make you laugh.

“You’re pissing me off,” you said, simply.

Jean released a husky groan that vibrated against the hollow of your throat. “You’re turning me on.” He hummed. “You feel that?”

You did. Against your ass, you could feel the prominence of Jean’s hardened cock through his pants, digging eagerly into your backside, and he did nothing but continue to fuel his lust by rubbing his erection against you.

“You’re the only one that can get me hard like this,” he strained, grunting at the discomfort in his briefs.

“Look how pretty you are.” Jean took your chin in his hand and prompted you to look at yourself in the mirror. He hovered over your shoulder and looked on, like he was only spectating. “Do you think anyone compares to you?”

His eyebrows creased while amber eyes fixated on your skeptical face. After a lack of response, he jerked your chin, forcing your attention back to yourself. “Answer me.”

“No,” you said quickly.

“Exactly. Good answer.” Jean’s thumb swept gently across your chin while he withdrew his hand.

Your timid eyes drifted over to him, observing as he slid two digits into his mouth, glazing them generously with saliva before lolling his tongue and pulling his fingers out. A thick string of spit lingered until his hand dipped and slid itself into your underwear.

You choked back a desperate cry once you felt Jean part your folds, using his wet fingers to pet the sensitive swell of your clit. Instinctively, you wrapped a sweaty, tremulous hand around his wrist, but it did nothing to quell his painfully tender ministrations.

“Jean,” you murmured. Your voice was breathy, just barely above a whisper while you gave in and rolled your hips against his hand. “Fuck, wait—Jean—”

“I love the way you say my name.” He placed his free hand on your breast. His fingers hooked onto the delicate fabric of your bra and tugged the material down, freeing your nipple. “Say it louder.”

“Jean,” you mewled loudly as he began flicking the hardening peak of your chest with a ginger touch. His movements were delicate and sensual, as though he wanted to kindle an impatient desire within you.

Jean’s fingers continued to rub slow, tortured circles into your clit and he eased into you every few seconds to make sure he was keeping his fingers slick. Once he heard your whimpers begin to ebb, he would stop and switch the direction of his motion, sending you into another flurry of moans and taking pleasure in the filthy-wet mess he was creating in your panties. “Louder.”

You bit your lip and closed your eyes until the darkness of your eyelids melted into white heat. The familiar torrent of quivers shook your body, and the surface of your skin tingled with the onset of your orgasm. You dug your nails into Jean’s forearm, and in the haze of your high you forgot about all of your concerns.  

“Jean!” You cried his name again, your wail echoing off of the bathroom walls while you writhed against his hold. You moved restlessly, looking for absolutely anything to cling to in an attempt to steady yourself until your climax subsided.

After you came to and regained your soundness, you scrutinized yourself in the mirror through misty tears, chagrined at how easily you’d submitted to him. You were situated limply in Jean’s arms, bottom lip swollen from persistent biting in your best efforts to veil how good he was truly making you feel, but from the sickeningly-smug simper on his face it was obvious that now Jean knew his fingers were more fruitful than an apology. Which meant this episode surely wouldn’t be the last of its kind.

He slotted his fingers into his mouth for the last time, sucking the silken coat of your arousal off of them before releasing them with a quiet pop, then Jean’s other hand crept up your neck until his thumb drove itself to part your closed lips, just wide enough so he could stick his lubricous fingers inside.

“Mhm,” he encouraged, nodding at the way you meekly looked to him for direction.

Jean’s fingers were warm and sloppy in your mouth as you sucked and he watched you intently, undoubtedly wishing that his cock could receive the same treatment. He sighed heavily as you wreathed your hot tongue around his knuckles.

“Good girl,” he breathed, pulling his digits from your jaws before his urge to stick them down your throat and watched as you gagged through tears became insatiable.

Jean worked one hand against his belt, unbuckling it skillfully before impatiently forgoing his buttons and tugging on his zipper instead. His breathing grew labored while you watched from the mirror as he shuffled behind you, and you canted yourself to the side to provide yourself with a clear view of Jean’s cock in the surface’s reflection.

His thick length pulsated, convulsing even without contact, and every time it did so, a fresh stream of precum dribbled from the swollen, red crown of his tip. With a light hand, Jean tapped his cock against the side of your thigh, prompting you to take him in your palm, and when you obeyed, it elicited a lengthy groan from him.

“Fuck, Y/N.”

You weighed his hot and heavy cock in your hand before beginning to move slowly, flicking your wrist and evoking the jerking of Jean’s hips when you did. His head hung forward and loose strands of his neatly tucked hair billowed around his face while he watched as your hand worked against his throbbing heat.

Jean delivered another set of kisses to your neck, kissing along your jawline until he stopped at the corner of your mouth to take a brief second to acknowledge his own pleasure. “Shit,” he grunted, his fleshly pants now becoming uncontrollable. “Okay, that’s enough.”

You loosened your grip around Jean’s cock while he curled his fingers around the cloth of your thin underwear, pulling it down until he stopped midway past your thighs, then his large hand settled between your shoulder blades to bend you over.

His palm collided with the pert curve of your ass, delivering a mild spank, and then he ghosted his touch over the stinging pain, blithely enjoying the way you whimpered his name ever so quietly. Jean positioned himself at your dripping entrance, prodding the tight hole with his tip over and over again just to taunt you until you glowered uncomfortably at him through the mirror.

“Stop it,” you heaved, your longing now turning into an unbearable itch.

Normally, you knew Jean would have loved to tease you, disregarding your begging and instead working even harder to rouse you, but you could tell by the sweat that beaded around his hairline that he needed relief too. So Jean spared you, grip tightening on your hips, and he pushed himself into you with a husky and guttural moan that overwhelmed your delicate whines.

He wasted no time and began moving, gradually picking up his pace until he decided on a moderate speed, not too rough, but just forceful enough that your breasts jounced and your body lurched against the sink whenever he thrusted into you.

“I always tell you how good you feel, do you need to hear it again?” Jean murmured, watching as his cock disappeared inside you and whenever he pulled back to rock his hips forward again, it glistened with a new layer of your arousal. “Your pretty pussy always takes me so well.”

He leaned into you, wrapping an arm around your waist and placing his hand on your shoulder, holding you in place while he fucked himself into you, over and over again. You tugged at Jean from deep inside your well, tightening your walls around his cock and causing his jaw to go slack with bliss.

“The way you fucking milk me, I could cum right now.” His balls slapped ceaselessly against your skin, and the sound of two sweaty bodies married together saturated the thick sex-tainted air. You struggled to watch yourself in the mirror, mouth wide open and eyes bloodshot from your tiredness and tears. Jean’s lips brushed against the shell of your ear and sent a ripple of goosebumps down the expanse of your back.

“I wish I could take a picture of you right now and keep it for later.” He panted into your ear. “You’re the only thing I can think of when I jerk off, it would be nice to have a visual.” When you said nothing he smiled, tugging at the softness of your lobe with his teeth. “Maybe next time, yeah?”

You could only give a weak and disoriented nod, and when you felt Jean’s cock twitch inside you, coupled with the way his muscles tensed underneath his skin, you knew he was close. You wrapped your hands around the arm curved about your waist and nodded at him again, cueing that you wanted to feel his release inside you.

Jean arched an eyebrow, his thrusts becoming sloppier, but he made no efforts to slow his cadence. “Yeah, you’re gonna let me cum inside you?”

You nodded silently for a third time.

Jean delivered a few more generous jerks before the small of his back tightened and he came inside you, amply flooding your chafed walls with his hot seed until you overflowed, and the creamy, white liquid seeped past the girth of his cock and began dribbling down the inside of your thigh.

Jean pulled his now limp cock out, wiping his essence gently on your folds before pulling you into another doting embrace. His clinch was tight, warm cheeks pressed against each other while he looked at you in the mirror with complete and unadulterated adoration.

“I love you,” he affirmed before flipping you over in his arms to face him. He bent down to press a salty and clammy kiss to your mouth, his lips stalling for a few moments longer before he pulled away and then delivered another kiss to your forehead. “Alright, stupid?”

You bobbed your head briefly, now embarrassed at your earlier outburst. You sunk into Jean’s torso, head against his chest, and mumbled sheepishly. “I love you too.”

The two of you stood together, arms encircling each other until Jean carefully broke his caress and began tugging you in the direction of the shower.

“Come on baby.” He grinned. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

[notsofloofy]

Good Girl

Idol: Park Chaeyoung (Blackpink)

For a night of celebration, your girlfriend can’t help keep her hands to herself when it’s been a while since she’s spent time with you.

Warning: rough sex, praise kink, strap-on, exhibitionism, oral

☕buy me a coffee☕

Chaeyoung looks at your from the corner of her eyes, her lips twitching slightly when your attention refused to leave Jisoo and Lisa’s antics as they continued to fight over who had won the game they were playing.

While Jennie had decided to refill the snack bowl, the pair decided to have you as their referee and Chaeyoung could not stand the lack of attention, especially when she needed you so close to her.

She was mentally pleading for Jennie to come back just so she could excuse both you and herself to get a bit of alone time.

“Stop moving.” You murmured softly for only her to hear and the strawberry blonde had to bite her lip just so she wouldn’t outwardly whine and let her members hear her.

It started when she decided to climb on your lap and cuddle you. The moment she threw her legs over your lap, she felt something brushing against her and her eyes quickly snap to your face. The quick eye contact you had given each other was all it took for her to realize that you had your own plans for her and it shot heat straight to her core.

“Stop moving.” You warned her, arm wrapped around her hips as she felt the toy pressing against her leg while her arms were loose around your neck. “But I need you.” She quietly whimpered into your neck, biting her lip as her hand slipped under your shirt and let her nails lightly scratch against your stomach.

Your eyes shift from the competitive in front of you to your girlfriend as she stares back at you with wide and pleading eyes. “Please?” She pleaded once more and you had to look over to the kitchen where Jennie had disappeared before huffing.

“Unnie, how long are you going to take with the food?” You call out and the woman emerges a few minutes after, brow raised as she reclaimed her seat and set the bowl down. “Calm down, the food is here. No need to get your panties in a twist.” She says with a roll of her eyes and you had to laugh at her words before shaking your head.

You adjust your position so that your girlfriend was finally situated between your legs, her back pressed against your front, effectively making her squirm as when she felt the toy make contact with her back, but the hand on her leg forces her to stop when you give her a firm squeeze.

Placing a pillow on her lap, you then rest your chin on her shoulder while your hand slips inside her shorts without anyone possibly noticing. But your girlfriend’s legs quickly close, her eyes wide as she turns her head to look at you in alarm.

“Y/n, we’re-”

“You’ve been so needy, baby.” You coo quietly in her ear, making her throat run dry when she feels your fingers ghost over her already soaked underwear. It causes you to hum, smirking against her neck when you give it a light nip. “I’ve barely even touched you.” You chuckle and your girlfriend holds the pillow closer just to have your hand closer to where she needs you to be.

“You guys are disgusting.” Chaeyoung’s head quickly snaps to Jennie’s cringing figure. “I get it, you’re dating and madly in love, but there’s no need to rub it in our faces.” The rapper complains, making you laugh and for your girlfriend to relax slightly.

Though her relief is short lived when she feels you pushing her underwear aside and your middle finger rubs gently against her folds, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive her mad.

She squeezes the pillow tight, her legs trying to keep your hand in place as your fingers continue to tease at her folds. She had to bite her bottom lip to keep herself from moaning when your lips brush against the shell of her ear.

“Be quiet, baby girl. Don’t let the others catch on to what you’re doing.” But the thrill of getting caught had only made her even more aroused as she pressed herself more against you, her breathing heavy as she tried to bury her face to your neck.

Without warning, your middle finger slipped into her with ease, causing her body to tense up and a low groan was muffled against your skin. “That’s it, baby, you’re doing good.” She quietly hums in delight as her walls clamp around the digit inside of her, one you started to slowly pump in and out of her.

“So, Y/n, what did you think about our album?” Jennie’s voice suddenly piped up again and you tear your eyes away from your girlfriend, an innocent grin on your face. “I think it was amazing. You all did an amazing job in the video, too. But I have to say, Pretty Savage has got to be my favorite song.” You say casually as though you weren’t fucking your girlfriend right in front of her friends.

Lisa makes a sound that was either a grunt or a scoff. “I bet you just kept looking at Chaeyoung during our performances.” She stated and you laugh while adding another finger, pushing both of them until your were knuckle deep in your girlfriend’s pussy, causing her breathing to hitch as her other hand grabbed your wrist to keep you from pulling out.

“Hey, you were all hot, but I am kinda biased.” You reply while pressing a kiss to Chaeyoung’s temple when she hid her face into your neck again, her teeth lightly sinking into your skin to stop herself from moaning out loud.

The action was dismissed as her growing shy and Jennie giggled while tossing a pillow at the two of you. “You are such a sweet talker. No wonder Rosie’s in deep.”

Oh if she only knew.

“Anyway, do you two have any plans now that promotions are over? We have some time before the concert.” Jisoo questioned without tearing her eyes away from the screen. “We’ve been talking about going on a date, but we haven’t really decided on what to do.”

“You alright there, Chaeyoung? You’ve been really quiet.” You look down at the squirming girl between your legs, curling your fingers and then slowly pulling them out, earning a quiet and muffled moan against your neck. “I think she’s getting sleepy.” You chuckle before taking your hand out of her shorts and then rubbing her back with your other hand.

“That makes sense. We’ve been really busy, so go ahead and bring her to bed. We can catch up some more in the morning.”  Jennie tells you before gesturing to the two busy people. “I’ll handle them, so go ahead.”

Chaeyoung sends the brunette a weak smile before you stand up, arms around her waist to give her support, already knowing how weak her legs have gotten. You bring her to her bedroom, bidding the three goodnight before entering the room, immediately locking the door as you did and then shoving the Aussie against it.

“My, my, Rosie, you’ve been quite naughty.” You taunt while trapping her between you and the door while she grips at your arms, trembling as the heat in her began to grow and the ache had only gotten worse as she felt the strap on pressing against her through your clothes.

It’s easy to decipher what she wants and you waste no time pulling down her shorts and underwear then letting them drop to the floor. She quickly undoes your pants and you kick them off when they reach your ankles before her hand reaches down to play with her clit, her juices coating her fingers as she spreads her legs apart for you.

Her breathing is heavy, her skin flushed as her hand leaves her clit to wrap around the fake cock, guiding you to her entrance and whimpering. “Please. I need you.” She pleads and you grip her waist while peppering kisses on her shoulder and neck. “Have you been a good girl?” You hum as the tip of the toy teases at her aching heat.

“I promise, I’ll be good.” Her voice is breathy, desperate to have you inside of her, and you decide that she’s had enough teasing, for now. The toy slips inside of her and she gasps at the size, forgetting just how big you were as you stretched her walls out.

Her hands grip at your shoulders, her nails digging into the skin as you push the strap-on more, eliciting a groan from her lips as her eyes fell shut. Your begin thrusting inside her, immediately finding a suitable pace that has moans spilling from her lips while she keeps you in place.

Your hands reach down to grab the back of her legs before hoisting her up. Chaeyoung grunts as you bury the toy inside her, her eyes rolling to the back of her head when you start thrusting into her faster and the sound of skin slapping against skin rings in her ears.

She jerks when your hand comes in contact with her ass and she bites her lip. “Look at you, taking in my fat cock. Were you this eager to have your pussy filled?” You hum and she cries out while nodding her head. “This pussy is only for you. My toys can never make me feel as good.” She whines as you begin carrying her over to the bed.

Her legs lock around you when you settle her at the edge. She uses her hands to support her upper body, watching as you reach down and start massaging her clit when you ram the fake cock inside her.

She throws her head back in pure bliss, chest heaving as she tugs at her sheets. “Fuck! Right there!” She moans and you grip her thighs while thrusting faster, harder, and her body shakes when you hit just the right spot, smacking her ass in the process, surely leaving a bright red handprint in its wake.

“You’re doing so good, baby.” You purr in her ear, teeth scraping against the lobe as she moans out, her thighs trembling as the bed begins to creak. “You feel so good, so tight around my cock. So needy for me.” She withers at your words, biting her lip to quiet herself down, but your finger catches her, slipping past her lips and parting them open before her eyes meet your own hazy ones.

“Don’t do that. I want to hear you, pretty girl.” She whimpers at the name, but does as told, allowing her moans to fall from her plump lips, forgetting that her members were just outside the room and could possibly hear her as you continued to fuck her senseless.

You lift her shirt over her head, tossing it to the side before your fingers run over the valley of her breasts. She reacts immediately to your touch before she’s tugging at her bra, signaling for you to take them off.

But instead of doing so, you only pull the garment down, her breasts pressed together before your tongue flicks at the hardened bud. She twitches at the sudden action, but the moment you take her nipple into your warm mouth has her sighing blissfully when her hand finds the back of your head, her long fingers threading with your hair and keeping you in place as you continued to buck your hips against your girlfriend.

She's gasping when you switch to her other breast and the heat in her stomach grows stronger with each thrust you give her. Grabbing onto her thighs and lifting her lower body to get a better angle, you flick at the hardened bud with your tongue. "Fuck! Don't stop. Please, don't stop." She whimpers when she feels herself coming closer.

Sweat began to form on her skin, her breasts swaying with each heavy thrust from you when your kisses move up to her neck and she's clinging to you to keep you as close as possible.

"I'm so close." You hear her whisper weakly, her voice trembling just like her legs around you. "It's okay. You've been such a good girl, Chae." You reply while brushing her hair from her face before cradling her cheek. "Keep being a good girl and look at me when you cum, okay baby?"

Chaeyoung nods eagerly, moaning as you place a chaste kiss to her lips before letting your hands rest on either side of her on the bed as you focused on bringing her to climax. Her hands grabbing fistfuls of your shirt signalled you just how close she was, and when you brush against a certain spot inside her, it doesn't take long before her back arches off the bed and a long moan comes spilling from her parted lips.

Her juices coated her inner thighs, ruining her sheets as well as you finally pull out with both of you breathing heavily.

While she tries to catch her breath, her eyes never leave you as you undo the harness and drop the strap-on to the floor before gently caressing her thigh, earning a slight jump from the girl and a chuckle from you.

"You're so beautiful, babe." You compliment, making heat rush to her face before giving you a small push. "You did such a good job, so let me clean you up, okay?" She doesn't need to reply as you help her lay properly on the bed and start pressing kisses on her neck and down to the valley of her breasts.

She giggles at the light playful nip on her skin before feeling your lips move further south. Lifting her head, she watches you before your tongue comes in contact with her clit and her toes curl while her head presses back down against the pillows.

With a kiss to her thighs, you quickly glance up at your girlfriend before licking a stripe up her folds, watching as her chest began to rapidly rise and fall, hands clutching the sheets as you continued to lick at her heat.

After a few teasing licks, her hands shoots down to grab your head when you start sucking on her clit, her hips rising from the bed as she buried your head between her legs. "Feels so good, baby." She moans as you squeeze her thighs.

You run your tongue up and down her slit with harsher strokes and you can't help but moan as her taste coated your tongue, causing her to do the same from the vibrations the action provided and it didn't take long for her to come again due to her sensitivity.

Her mouth falls open in a silent scream, tears already in her eyes from overstimulation and you pull away when she finally released your head, allowing her to breathe as you lick your lips.

When she opens her eyes again, a soft moan falls from her lips when she sees her essence dripping from your chin before you get off the bed and move to grab a towel, washing both the towel and your face in her bathroom before coming back to properly clean her up.

As the cloth comes in contact with her skin, she jolts and you coo at her while pressing your hand against her cheek. "It's okay, I'm just going to clean you up." You whisper and Chaeyoung bit her lip while you quickly wiped her thighs.

When you discard the towel, you take your own shirt off before wiping the sweat from her face and neck. Her arms wrap loosely around your torso before you lay down next to her and kiss her forehead. "You did amazing, pretty girl." You whisper and your girlfriend hums in satisfaction while pressing a kiss to your collarbone.

You both eventually doze off after using up all your energy and Chaeyoung is more than happy with getting to ditch her members, even just for tonight.

[penajavier]

though you are no god -  Frankie Morales x f!reader

This idea had been brewing for a while and hanging out in my drafts for a longer while, but I’ve finally found the inspiration to clean it up and share it! I am clearly a beginner at this and feedback/critique is always welcome. 

Title: though you are no god (credit)

Pairing: Francisco Morales x f!reader. One use of the word “girl”.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.3k

Content/warnings: brief mentions of nightmares and trauma recovery, angst, smut, still somehow the sappiest shit I’ve ever written. frankie likes to be praised. strictly 18+

ao3

••••••••

The first time you get to witness Francisco Morales fall to his knees in front of you, you almost don't remember it happening.  

His mouth presses hot and wet and urgent against your skin where he is bunching up your shirt to expose it. You are nearly as drunk as him, blindly pulling it off and throwing it somewhere behind him. The wall behind you is cool but does absolutely fuck-all to clear your head because oh god his hands are big and warm and his tongue is incessant and oh god this is Frankie, your goofy, kind, awkward, hot as fuck friend-of-a-friend. He pulls you forward a fraction just to tug on your pants and underwear, letting them gather around your feet without giving you the leg room to step out of them. He lifts your left leg over his shoulder with ease, and then his hands are bracing him against you and his tongue is working as if it has a mind of its own, circling your clit and sliding up your lips and you don't remember his fingers being that thick but somehow they are and you are close to going insane. 

Maybe tomorrow you'll wonder how you ended up here, in a hallway in his apartment where he barely bothered to turn the lights on before pressing himself into you, effectively shutting off any sane connection you might have still retained to the world after however-many drinks you two had got in you. The night was supposed to be about Santi, you vaguely recall, but right now you honest to god cannot even remember what promotion he got that you were supposed to be celebrating. You might have made a mental note to apologize to him for leaving his party early, but Frankie adds another finger to your wet cunt and moans like it's pleasuring him more than you, and it's a real effort not to kick him in the chest or collapse on him then and there.  

The fucker laughs as if he knows exactly what he's doing to you, and somehow increases his efforts to a degree you hadn't thought possible. It doesn't take much after that for you to feel that knot tightening in your belly, the electricity of it making your limbs shake. Only when he’s satisfied making you cum thoroughly on his tongue and his hand does he stand up, and for the first time since you got here, he speaks. "Hi," he says, the loopiest grin on his face, before leaning forward to kiss you without waiting for you to answer.  

Your last remaining brain cell thinks to itself, this is going to be one hell of a night. 

•••• 

The second time Frankie Morales falls to his knees in front of you, you can barely bring yourself to look at him. 

It's been weeks (months?) since he practically fell off the grid, following your childhood best friend and designated bad-idea-haver Santiago Garcia into the guts of South America. You had reached the point where a part of you was bracing itself for the worst kind of news, of never getting to see your boys again or hell, not even knowing what the fuck happened to them down there. The rest of you was still holding on to your anger in a misplaced effort to stay hopeful, refusing to let you feel anything other than the need to wring their necks as soon as one of them walked back in the door. And that was it, the majority of your days spent getting on edge every time your phone rang or you felt you saw a familiar set of messy curls pass you by on the street, until you walked home one day to find him standing outside your door, hand poised to knock but hesitant. 

"What the fuck?" the words escape you before you can help it, and he nearly jumps out of his skin. When he turns to look at you coming up behind him, you almost stop in shock at how absolutely shit he looks. "What the fuck?" you say again, seeming to have lost all your vocabulary at the sight of this stupid infuriating beautiful man finally standing in front of you in one piece, messy curls and all.  

An eternity passes with the two of you simply staring at each other, your grocery bags forgotten in your hands and his fingers twitching in an effort to keep them to himself. The smell of fresh bread wafting from your grocery bag does little to alleviate any tension, and the silence is almost painful. You want to do something, say something of all the rage and hurt you've nursed in you at being left alone. How dare you, you want to bark at him, want to hold him by the collar and smack him or kiss his face raw. 

You must take too long in your own head because he carefully extends a hand toward you, but you are so over-stimulated at the mere sight of him that you flinch.  

That's what breaks him, you realize later when the storms have passed and the proverbial rivers have calmed. Not the pain and loss and grief of the mission - things he'll whisper into your chest when you let him - and not the physical battering he must have taken through it all. What breaks him is you flinching away from him, as if you'd forgotten who he was. It’s only me, it's your Frankie, he wants to scream; wants to gather you in his arms and breathe into your ribs. But all he can do is fall to the ground and plead with his eyes.

I'm sorry, mi alma he seems to be saying, and the sight of this glorious man breaking down in front of your doorstep makes you ache in the depths of your bones. You rush forward, all your anger evaporating away from you in the instant it takes to wrap your arms around him and let him rest his head on your stomach. The position is awkward at best. His touch feels almost alien and his hair doesn't smell like you're used to, but you let him cry, let him ruin the clothes you hadn’t given much thought to anyway, and it doesn't occur to either of you that the shirt is one of his that he'd left at your place. 

You choke back the ocean rising in your throat, not knowing how to navigate everything you're feeling at the same time. Will we ever be okay? you wonder, your entire body feeling numb as he holds you just the tiniest bit more tightly.  

You don't know then if you'll ever forgive him, and he doesn't know if he'll ever be the same man again, but right there in that moment none of it matters. What matters is that he is here, and you are holding him like you'd wished and prayed for in all those lonely nights. Maybe you'll never be okay like you used to be, but you have him for now, and you're too exhausted to think beyond that. 

•••• 

The third time, it's fucking magical. 

You and your Frankie have finally settled into a somewhat stable routine. After he left you with the promise to get his shit together, he made good on his word. It seemed as if the mission that must not be named put things into perspective for him - and for you, for that matter - and the two of you decided to give up on the delicate dance you kept orchestrating around each other. You had realized that you needed him much more than you could ever resent him for leaving, and he had realized he never wanted to feel the paralysing fear of thinking he'd never make it back to you again. You two had decided to sit down like adults and talk about it, and Frankie’s regular visits to his therapist had certainly helped. 

Now, in the early morning light in your shared bedroom, he looks the very picture of calm. The birds chirp softly outside the window, blending in with the music of the traffic that you two have begrudgingly come to love. The nightmares haven't left him completely, but they're less frequent and far less incapacitating for him. You feel a rush of pride for how far he's come, how much effort he put into building himself back up piece by piece after being shattered to his bare bones. You’ve seen him curl into you out of fear and into himself during the moments of self loathing when he feels he doesn't deserve your kindness, but now he sleeps with his head tilted slightly upward, exposing the beautiful planes of his neck to you. He is beautiful, you've known it for as long as you've known him, but something about the soft sunlight turning his curls golden and the way you can tell he's truly at peace in this moment, brings tears to your eyes and makes your throat clench. 

You lean up on your elbow and touch his face. His skin is soft, and he smells faintly of your body wash. Thief, you think fondly, brushing his unruly hair away from his forehead. he had stopped cutting it as frequently as he used to because he noticed you liked running your hands through it, and you realize with a jolt that that had been years ago, long before you two had any conversation about the future, even before he had his world turned upside down in the depths of an unnamed jungle. That is when you realize that Francisco Morales told you he loved you long before you had the sense to understand it, and this time you do cry. 

He stirs in his sleep. You briefly worry that you woke him, but he simply turns his head and nuzzles into the crook of your neck, breathing deeply at your shoulder before falling back asleep. The feeling of his soft breaths against your skin makes you smile, and you feel yourself falling more in love with every one of them. 

He wakes you up hours later with gentle kisses and the promise of pancakes, making you giggle with the way his moustache tickles your chin. When you find him in the kitchen later he seems more chipper than usual, smelling like a bakery and humming softly while setting the table for two. He greets you with a sweet kiss and pulls out your chair for you before sitting down in his own. 

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” you ask playfully, and he smiles wide behind his glasses that you’d finally convinced him he needed. Beautiful man, you can't help but think. 

"Just wanted to do something nice for my girl," he answers with his mouth full and you flick a berry at him, which he expertly catches. "Oh so that's how it's gonna be," he puts down his fork and you start to run away, but he is far too quick. He catches you by your waist and pulls you into his chest, licking your cheek obscenely.  

"Frankie, you dog!" you giggle, still fighting his grip.  

"Dogs are cute," he shrugs, seemingly unfazed against you using all your force. He is gentle as anything with you, but he sure likes to show off his strength every once in a while. He lifts you effortlessly off the floor and sets you on the counter. "You think I'm cute?" he wiggles his eyebrows. 

You almost playfully call him insufferable on autopilot, the way you've always bantered since you've known him. But you're aware now how he relies on verbal affirmations, and you've been making a conscious effort of supplying them whenever you can. So instead you hold his face in your palms and tell him that you think he's the most wonderful man in the world, and that you love him more than anything.  

"Baby," he drops his head to your shoulder and sighs. You do this to him, making his heart swell and threaten to burst out of his ribs. He doesn't have the words, doesn't know how to tell you he feels like the luckiest man in the world every morning when he wakes up next to you, every time he hears your voice or feels your palm in his. He doesn't know how to tell you you've been his anchor and his best friend, or how he can't believe he gets to have this kind of domestic bliss at all. "Baby," he repeats, "I love you." 

You try to deepen the kiss he initiates, but he pulls back and tells you he has plans for the day, telling you to get dressed for something outdoors. You feel a rush of happiness at the thought of him feeling more and more like himself with every day that passes, picking up old habits and finding joy in them. You kiss his cheek and run off to get dressed, beyond excited to see what he had planned. 

The ride to the field is longer than you expected. Frankie has turned the radio on and it plays softly in the background as you two talk occasionally. It’s a calm morning, with the perfect weather that's neither too cold nor too warm. He lifts your hand to his lips and kisses it softly once he's parked, and then he hops out and opens your door for you. 

"Such a gentleman," you tease. 

"Yeah," is all he says before he's kissing you breathless against the truck. It takes you by surprise, but it's far from unwelcome. 

Your hands come to rest on his shoulders, and you can tell it takes a special amount of effort for him to pull away from you, his hands still holding you close as he pulls on yours and leads you deeper into the field. The grass is high enough to tickle your ankles, and the whisper of it against your skin feels wonderful. He slows down, the pace leisurely enough for you to appreciate the wildflowers growing around you. He’s careful not to step on any, and you're struck once again by the multitudes that exist within this one man. The same man who has confessed to sins you could never have thought him capable of, now so careful with a thing as gentle as a dandelion. You think about his hand that is so gentle in yours, and the memory of it firmly wrapping around your throat as he does unspeakable things to you makes you blush, and you will yourself to come back to the present.  

Frankie has led you to a tree, and you notice a tree house resting on the sturdier branches. It’s new, you realize, and look at him quizzically. 

"Remember how I was supposed to pick up new hobbies?" he says sheepishly, gently leading you around to the other side where you see wooden footrests leading up. He urges you to climb up, and you are still so surprised that you can only obey. 

"I thought you'd like this," he's saying. "It can be our secret place, we come here whenever we want. Not that we don't already have a home and privacy but I thought this could be nice to have. Like a little getaway close to home." He's rambling now, as you notice all the fine details he has paid attention to in the construction of it. 

"Honey? Do you like it?" he asks when you've been too quiet. 

"Do I like it?" you ask incredulously. "Francisco Morales, this is amazing!" 

He immediately breaks into a wide grin, and you can see that he is proud of himself. He looks almost like an eager child, and you love the way his eyes shine in that moment. 

"There's one more thing," he leads you to a small opening in the wall that serves as a window. You can see the clear sky and the field stretching out under you, and the cool breeze feels like a gentle caress. It's a beautiful view, and you lose yourself in the sights and smells for a moment. 

"So am I looking at something specific?" you ask, wondering what it was he wanted to show you.  

He doesn't answer, though, and you turn around to repeat the question. The sight that meets you nearly knocks you off your feet, and you cover your gasp with your hand. 

Frankie is on one knee, hat resting by his feet and hand extended, holding the most gorgeous ring you have ever laid eyes on. You might be biased, but you couldn't care less. 

"Darling, I-" he starts, but you don't have the self control that he apparently does, and you throw your arms around him. 

He wraps tightly around you, only letting you have enough room to look up and kiss him. And god do you kiss him. You kiss him like he has never been kissed before, like you could pour every ounce of affection you have for him into that one moment, needing him as close to you as possible. 

You don't realise you're crying until he kisses the tears off your cheeks, and then he lifts your hand and slides the ring on. 

•••• 

The fourth time comes that night, after you've spent your day in the field, holding on to each other and bursting with mutual joy. 

He sits you down on the bed, and kneels in front of you, kissing your shoulders gently. "Hey, Mrs. Morales," he smiles as he says it, even as he's biting the soft skin at your clavicle. 

You laugh, telling him that’s not how engagement rings work. He only grins against your skin and bites harder. 

You scratch his head and he purrs, lifting his head briefly to give you a sweet kiss before he's pushing you to lie down. Let me take care of you, honey, he whispers. Then his hands are on your waist and his mouth is on your chest, making you writhe in place. He kisses and sucks and bites, making sure to give every part of you equal attention. So beautiful, he's talking almost to himself as he leaves a wet trail of kisses down to your tummy.  

His hands meanwhile touch and grab and smooth over any part they can reach, moving as if of their own volition. He knows your body so well that he can map it with his eyes closed, can recognize it with his last breaths. He reaches your cunt and pulls you closer, closer, inhaling deeply and groaning like he's hardly staying in control. 

With the same patience he had displayed earlier in the day he teases you mercilessly, kissing around where you need him most. You pull on his hair and he tuts and bites your thigh. What did I say, baby - a flick of his tongue against you - let me take care of you. You whine petulantly, and he tells you to be a good girl for him. He even says please, the asshole. 

The first lick against your clit comes at the same time as his finger pushes into you, and it takes everything you have not to lift off the bed. So wet for me, he moans against you, the vibration making your pleasure amplify. You fist the sheets around you, telling him how fucking good he's making you feel, how good he always makes you feel. The praise fuels him on and he pushes two more fingers into you at the same time. 

You are so full and so stimulated with his tongue incessant against your clit, and he has no plans of letting up. You feel your orgasm hit you quick and hard, and you can barely warn him before you're gushing, soaking his face and trying to pull away from the overstimulation. 

He looks up at you, grinning like the Cheshire cat. He licks you clean until you're begging him to stop, and then he patiently kisses his way back up your body. 

"That was... that was amazing," you're out of breath as you say it, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in to taste yourself. 

"Oh honey," he coos. "I've barely started." 

•••

fin.

Tagging some lovely mutuals whom I love and who are amazing writers: @disgruntledspacedad @pedropascaldice @frannyzooey. Please let me know if you don’t want to be tagged in the future (if there is a future) ❤️

[themonotonysyndrome]

REDACTED verse - Another day in Dahlia

Summary: When worlds collide, Aaron and Smartass has the ‘old, married couple’ moment when a wolf is loose in a hypermarket. 

-

Dahlia is lively today, the afternoon sunlight dazzling upon the city. Familiar faces, familiar sights and familiar roads are everywhere. 

And yet, the man who couldn’t stop bickering with his lover since the two of them stepped out of IKEA is a changing man living in this familiar city. 

Aaron likes to think that he retains his best qualities despite the passing of time. Firm, true and level-headed - traits that have served him well both in his personal and work life. Traits that have earned him recognition, achievements and praises. However, against a fiery soul housed within an infuriating yet gorgeous body, Aaron has never felt so breathless and helpless. 

And most importantly, lovestruck. 

Unstable and uncharacteristically hesitant, the pieces of himself that are held together with patience have been pulled apart by its seams. But they weren’t destroyed; no, they rearrange themselves into an amazing new form. Aaron isn’t quite yet certain what that new form brings, but already, he could feel himself grow into a man that wholly compliments his lover. 

Like a planet revolving around a beautiful, bright star. He can’t help but be drawn by the star’s gravity. 

There’s balance between them, despite their strong-willed personalities. They sooth the other when one burns too brightly, they offer guidance when the other is unsure. Balanced and happy, that’s what they are. 

There’s never emptiness when silence envelops them. Isn’t there a saying that whenever you’re with your loved one, silence is never oppressive? 

Although, to be fair, silence doesn’t last long whenever they’re together. Not when there’s always something to bicker, something to discuss and something to tease about. 

Case in point, the ugly as fuck lamp that Aaron fought tooth and nail to convince his partner not to buy. 

“Look, it’s not even your money; I was going to use mine for it!” 

“It’s not about the money, Smartass.” Aaron replies back with a roll of his eyes. They’re at the parking lot getting ready to head off to the hypermarket next. The two of them had spent four hours of furniture shopping at IKEA after his Smartass made an offhand comment last week about his couch being way too old and lumpy for gaming nights and movie marathons. 

But before either of them realise it, what was supposed to be a simple couch purchase turned into perusal of dining tables, desks and floor lamps. Aaron got them back on track when you excitedly pulled him towards that last part.

Aaron had never before questioned your taste in furniture before but at that point, he starts to draw the line at a red, human shaped floor lamp. It bows slightly with the most creepy smile he had ever seen on a statue before. 

“I just don’t want to have a heart attack everytime I wake up, alright? You wanted it in our bedroom, beside our bed and it’s creepy beyond all reason.” 

“It’s functional though.” 

“So were the other floor lamps.” Aaron easily pointed out. He opened the car door and waited, unamused, for you to get in. Unfortunately, judging by how your arms folded across your chest in a stubborn pose, his spitfire didn’t want to drop their conversation. 

“What if I put it in the living room?” You suggest instead, the familiar defiant spark made itself known. 

Aaron held himself back from groaning in despair. Why are you so hung up about that lamp!? “I don’t think it’ll fit with the… aesthetic of our house, OK?” He tried the tactical approach first, knowing that a straight up no would not pacify his partner at all. “How about this; we’ll go with your couch and desk and my preference for the dining table. There. Is that good enough for you, Your Highness?” 

You purse your lips, but the both of you know that you’re not so hung up about the floor lamp to drag this argument any further. Aaron wisely chooses not to comment how your lips slowly curve into a smile. 

“Fine. I’ll let you win this round - ”

“Oh my god - ”

“But in return, I’ll be taking over for lunch later.” 

Aaron immediately shut his mouth, surprise and secretly a little giddy that his Smartass had taken the initiative of making a meal for them. That lasted for about a split second before something dawn onto him. 

“You want free reign at the hypermarket later, right?” 

This time, you beam happily but say nothing as you finally slip inside of the Mercedes. And as usual, silence spoke louder than words. Aaron exhales loudly, not knowing whether to laugh or mutter a curse. Trust in his lover to have the final say, ultimately. 

But that’s one of the many reasons why he fell so hopelessly in love with you. 

-

The hypermarket is busy for a Saturday. Smartass pointed at the sales and promotions board display in big letters and numbers when the two of you entered the building, hand in hand. Ah, that makes sense. Children run about clutching snacks in their little hands to convince their exasperated parents into buying, worned out staff restock empty shelves and the scent of fresh produce and floor detergents clings in the air. A familiar sight. 

“How do you feel about crabs?” Smartass begins the conversation. Aaron doesn’t understand why you bother asking him when you’re already dragging him towards the cold, seafood area. Aisles of fresh fish of all kinds are clearly displayed for visitors, the more expensive kind are packaged and a few men are working behind the butcher service counter. 

“I can go for some crabs. It’s been a while anyway.” Aaron answered, grabbing a nearby stack of baskets for their grocery. He tried to recall the last time they had any seafood and his mind helpfully supplied a restaurant where they went to for dinner in March. 

He lets you gather your thoughts as you stare at the frozen crabs critically as if they were spreadsheets. “I’m thinking of rice with a side of buttery crab meats, Salmon sashimi, Shiitake soup and lotus root salad. Sounds good?” 

As soon as he invited his Smartass to permanently move in with him, you had totally taken over the kitchen. Apparently you weren’t terribly amused when he admitted that he’s not much of a cook but hey, he never once complained when you served the best homemade vegan burgers with a glare and a silent, “Go ahead. I dare you to say that they taste like shit. Make my day, Aaron.” 

So instead, after he cleaned their dishes, Aaron proceeded to throw his lover on their bed to thoroughly thank you for the meal. 

Four hours later, the flushed and surprised expression on your face was so worth it. 

But we’re getting off tangents here. 

“Sounds absolutely delicious.” Aaron replied and startled his Smartass with a sudden kiss on your cheek. “Now stop glaring at the crabs and pick some already. We have half of the ingredients back home and I’d rather not spend the rest of our remaining Saturday in the hypermarket. So let’s get to it.” 

Smartass hum in agreement and grab your own basket. Together, they made quick work of what they needed to buy. Not just for lunch, but for the upcoming weeks too. Crabs, Salmons, some meat and later pea sprouts, red cabbages and lotus root - the both of them are more inclined to healthy meals rather than take outs and it really helps that Smartass suggest preparing ingredients that they could cook for the rest of the week, given their busy work lives. Vegetable dishes are flexible and easy enough to cook into anything anyway. 

They moved on from the frozen, seafood aisles and the produce section to where the personal care products are. Aaron holds up his phone in between them so Smartass could check what’s next on the list. 

“Oh shit. I totally forgot that my shampoo and conditioners just ran out.” Smartass blurted. “Thanks for adding that into our grocery list.” 

Aaron scoffs. “You mentioned it twice during dinner last night - in between debating whether or not Game of Thrones is better than Lord of the Rings, mind you - so I can understand why you forgot” Colourful rows of shampoo bottles greeted them when they walk past a couple who’s pushing their trolley carts away from the shelves. He grabs your favourite brand and places them in his basket. “You’re brilliant, Smartass, but I can’t help pity that poor hamster living in your brain for having to run in its ball all day long.” 

You gasp, affronted, while Aaron laughs at the look on your face. Even smacking his arm did nothing to stop his laughter. “You’re too easy to rile up sometimes, you know that Smartass?” He smirks and grabs a toothpaste next. They’re running low on that too. In retaliation for his remark, Smartass sneakily pulled that toothpaste out when Aaron was checking his phone and chose the one with the strawberry flavour instead. 

When Aaron shot you an inquisitive look, you just smiled innocently and quickly distracted him by insisting that they need to get some snacks. 

“That reminds me, it’s not on the list but we have to buy ramune soda. Oh, and some potato chips too.” You pointed out as the two of you rounded away from a large family who stopped in between the body wash shelves and hair serums. “Have you noticed that we go through ramune sodas like crazy lately?” 

The snacks and beverage section is one of the highlights of this hypermarket, in Aaron’s humble opinion. Not only do they have an abundance of the local goods, they also have a wide selection of some really good imported snacks or as Aaon like to call it, your ultimate weakness.  

“Yeah but be honest, are you really going to stop your addiction anytime soon?” 

“What is this? Bully me day?”

“Hey, you’re the one who said it, not me, Smartass.” Aaron is quick to quip back and this time, you roll your eyes. Even if it’s true, it doesn’t mean that you have to like it. 

But that’s Aaron - his words always serve a meaning and come straight from the heart when it’s for the things that truly matter. It’s annoying and yet, it’s one of his best qualities. 

However, just as you were about to rebuke him, the two of you heard a passing conversation nearby the soda shelves. 

“ - not going to play bartender at home again, Angel. Why not? Alright then; let me jog your memory, hmm? The last time I left you alone in the kitchen for more than 3 hours, you came out carrying a tray with the embodiment of everything unholy on this planet separated into three shot glasses.” 

“It was just ramune soda mixed with rose syrup, grass jelly and vinegar!” 

“Asher had a stomach ache for a week, Angel.” 

“But Davey, how do you expect me to get better at it if you don’t let me practice? See? There’s a flaw in your plan!” 

“I’d rather we go to a bar the next time you’re in the mood to poison the both of us.” 

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop on their conversation but you couldn’t help snicker at the stranger’s very much put out and deadpan tone. It gives an implication that this isn’t the first time this ‘Angel’ did something as crazy as mix sodas with vinegar. Hell, even the man’s comment earned a soft chuckle from Aaron. 

“Sounds like he got quite a handful lover over there. Remind you of someone?” Aaron whispered. They couldn’t properly see the couple due to a stack of Dorito boxes in between them but you could spot a tall man wearing a pretty nice looking leather jacket and his partner beside him.

“If you’re implying that I’m unreasonably difficult - ”

“No, no. Just… hmm, passionately stubborn, I suppose.” Aaron nonchalantly replies with a smirk. He guffaws when you poke at his sides and spin around to the rows of ramune with a dramatic huff. Aaron easily follows suit with a fond smile. 

This section of the aisle is quiet unlike the previous ones that’ve been, Aaron noticed. The humming of the air conditioner above them and the crinkling of a plastic bag of chips in Smartass’ hand were the only sounds that broke the comfortable silence. Even the murmurs from the other couple melts into background noises the further Aaron and his walk away. 

That is, until a hair-raising snarl shattered the quietness. 

What’s worse, it sounded like a wolf. 

Aaron reacted instinctively. He opted for the defense - grabbing his Smartass’ free hand, pulling you close to him. His searching eyes are frantic while his mind is trying to make sense that a wolf is somehow in this hypermarket. Full of people. What the fuck!?

Smartass, however, opted for the offense. You grab the nearest glass bottle by the neck and were about to smash it against the metal shelf if it weren’t for Aaron’s quick thinking. He immediately grabs your wrist and shoots you an incredulous look. Silently judging your choices in life. 

‘You have a better idea on how to deal with a fucking wolf!?’ Smartass demanded in silence. Your expression is bewildered; as if you couldn’t believe that Aaron wouldn’t let you shank an unknown threat just around the corner. 

In return, Aaron pulls you closer to his body and glares out, ‘I’m not letting you throw yourself in front of a wolf!’

‘I’m protecting us!’ Smartass countered back, glaring just as heatedly. 

A sweet giggle suddenly interrupted their mental argument. Their hearts skip a beat in fear at the unknown. 

“Ok, ok. How about this, Davey: I'll let you dress me up when we go to the bar tomorrow. How’s that? Does that make my Wolf not jealous anymore?” The same voice they accidentally eavesdropped previously bargained in a teasing tone. 

Smartass and Aaron exchange a bewildered and confused glance. What the fuck did they just said? My Wolf? Was the realistic animal snarl came from the boyfriend!? He must’ve some serious vocal cords and throat to be able to make that sound!

Aaron exhales loudly while Smartass allows him to grab the glass bottle that you were still holding to put it back on the shelf. 

“I think I just lost five years of my life.” Aaron complains.

Smartass said nothing. Without even saying anything, you march to where the couple are. Aaron curses under his breath and quickly chases after you. 

The man in the black leather jacket and his partner glanced at his Smartass when you approached them with a practised smile. One that Aaron knew meant trouble. How could he not when he’s the receiving end of that smile more than he could count. 

When Smartass wants answers, you’ll do everything in your power to get it and Aaron is really not looking forward to wrangling his partner from starting a brawl in the middle of a damn hypermarket. 

“Hi there.” His Smartass began, your body language deceptively open and friendly. “Are you two alright?” 

“Eh?” The one standing beside the tall, frowning man replies with a blink. Upon closer inspection, Aaron realises that he and what looks to be the leader of a local gang are similar in built. 

“Can we help you?” The gang leader interjects. He’s frowning but he doesn’t appear angry. Just confused like his partner. Though he nodded in greeting when Aaron slid up beside Smartass. 

“Didn’t you hear that noise just now?” Smartass plays shock. “It sounded like someone released a wolf in the hypermarket!” 

The man in the leather jacket suddenly looked like he just sucked a lemon; his eyes are comically wide. Meanwhile, his partner’s eyes are equally as wide. Aaron detects a hint of realisation glint in their eyes. Now isn’t that interesting? 

Well, Smartass thought so too. You pressed on. “You heard it too right? Damn near give me a heart attack! I wonder if the nearby staff also heard it - ”

“It’s probably the ventilation system or something.” The gang leader quickly replied, his expression oddly shifted to neutral. Beside him, his partner opens their mouth to say something but he quickly presses his palm over it. They throw a pointed look at him but he resolutely ignores it. “Anyway, good luck with your grocery shopping.” 

Aaron watches him grab his partner by the hand and gently drag them away. It was only when they’re out of sight that they started furiously chatting. 

“Wow, Davey, your slip up was even worse than Asher’s!” 

“We’re so not telling him about this, Angel.” 

“...Does this mean I can tell Babe instead?” 

“Wha - No, that wasn’t an invitation to tell his Mate!” 

Aaron turns to Smartass who just shrugs. Neither of them could figure out what just happened. He’s just glad that you let them escape. 

“Maybe they have some really kinky roleplaying thing going on.” Smartass guessed, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively. 

Aaron runs his palm down his face in exasperation. “I don’t give a shit, Smartass. Can we please just finish up our grocery shopping already? I’m starting to get hungry.” 

“Alright, alright. We just have to grab a few more things and then we can pay.” Smartass assured him and off they continued on their way. 

Though neither of them still couldn’t help but wonder how the hell that man managed to sound like a wolf so accurately. 

Kinky roleplay or not. 

-

I’m tentatively planning to make this into a mini series including the rest of the non-empowered characters with their lovers. I’m already writing for Oliver and Baby so we’ll see how that goes! 

[plush-rabbit]

Praise Thy Master

Word Count: 3.5K

A/N: I think this is my first time writing a dom reader so I hope I did well!!

You sit in silence at a cafe, your grapefruit bubble tea sat in front of you stands perfectly still. Your legs are crossed under the table as you scroll through your phone, drink half empty and mask pulled tight against your face. You pull your mask and slip the straw underneath, popping a pomegranate bubble between your tongue and roof of your mouth. A chair across the room squeaks and you let out a sigh. When you look up, no one is staring at you, eyes focused on anyone but you. You lean back into your seat and hook your purse across your shoulder. You grab your drink, the water that has formed on it wets your hands and you click your tongue. You stand from your table and make your way across the shop. Your steps are quick and light, and reaching upon a table where a lone man sits, you take the seat across.

The man jerks in attention and stares at you, eyes glancing around the room and hands forming into fists. “I-”

“You know it’s rude to stare right?” You roll your eyes and gently swing your legs under the table. “I mean, come on. It’s one of the few days I have off and all I wanted was to enjoy some tea but instead,” your voice raises in pitch and you tilt your head, “I have some stalker come and show up here. I mean is no place safe from you? And you,” you chuckle and shake your head, “you’re-” you point a finger at him- “unrelenting. I mean, how long has it been? Couple months, no? I gotta give you props for it. You know so much about me- things that aren’t even available online. And all the stuff you give me? I have to admit, they’re preferable compared to other gifts. I mean- all those little trinkets that you leave me? The cream? Smells lovely.” You tilt your head and the man sits in silence, perfectly still, as if the need for movement is gone. “It kind of reminds me of a cat, you know? When they leave presents for their masters.” You smile underneath your mask and your legs come to a still. “So kitty,” you purr, your leg coming up and brushing against his,”you coming to my show tonight?” Your leg stretches high, brushing against his leg.

The chair makes an awful, high pitched screeching sound and the drink nearly topples over until you grasp it, your legs coming down to the floor. You pout and shake your head. You pinch your mask and take a sip from his drink. “Mm, peach.” You bat your eyes at him and stand from the seat gracefully. Your hand meets his shoulders and you spare him a glance. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

-

“Great performance as always!” The man in front of you shakes your gloved hand and you smile widely at him. “When you sing, it’s- it’s like I could feel the love you give to all your fans!”

“Oh!” You giggle and clasp your other hand above your fan. “Thank you so much! You know I wouldn’t be anywhere without you as my fan!” You give him a head tilt and quirk your lips.

“I really do love-”

A sweet ringing sound fills your ears and you slip your hands out of the male’s grip and you lean back against the metal chair. “Oh,” you pout. “Looks like we ran out of time. I’ll see you next time, right?” You nod your head as you say your words, beaming as the man that is escorted away from you shouts his reply.

Your eyes are closed as the next person moves forward and you beam at them without seeing who they are. “Hi! I hope-” you open your eyes and your smile flaters and turns into something colder- “well, you did show up, huh?” 

The man with light blue hair that reaches his shoulders avoids your gaze and holds a photocard set of you gingerly in his hands. He extends it out to you and under the mask he wears, you can see red peek out.

“You’re going to have to speak up if you want me to sign it.” You place your chin above your hands and smile sweetly at him. “So, what is it you want me to do?”

“Can you sign the cards,” he hesitates, “please.” His eyes meet yours for a quick second before looking away. “To Tomura.”

“Tomura?” You repeat and the man nods. “That’s a cute name,” you hum and grab a pen, grabbing the card set and etching your signature on it. Your eyes meet his and they glance back down at the set in front of you. He has a cute voice- raspy but it suits him. “I didn’t see you in the audience. Either you just showed up or-” you glance up at him and put the pen down- “you’re really good at hiding. But,” your eyes glance over him, “that’s to be expected isn’t it?” The cards are neatly tucked back into the box and you place a kiss against the top, a sliver of glimmer glints under the light and you hold out to him with a coy smile. “Sorry I got some lipstick on it Tomura.”

“That’s-”

“Before you leave,” you raise a hand, “look at the last picture for me? I left you something special.” You bat your eyelashes at him and watch as he opens the set. He’s careful as he pulls out the card, your eyes are entirely focused on his hands, watching as he grabs the card. His eyes scan the card, eyes appearing soft for a split second. It’s a simple photoset- polaroids of you in various settings with white space underneath for your name and when he flips the card over his eyes widen and he looks back at you. You smile and wink at him as the bell rings, serving as a notification that time is over. “Bye Tomura. I’ll see you later.” You wave at him as he’s told to leave.

-

You sit in your home, going through social media, reading the nice comments left on the official page for you and various others on people who managed to take a few pictures or videos during the concert. You smile softly and hum. Your phone buzzes with messages from your friends who congratulate you and fans who heart your comments. It makes you smile and pride swells in your chest. You did good. And you’re exhausted, but you’re happy. For the most part. While your phone vibrates with notifications, it still doesn’t feel as if it’s enough. You haven’t received one. You haven’t received your little stalker’s message. It makes you sigh. 

“To think, he’s been following me around and yet he can’t even message me after I offered, how sad.” You pout and lean back against your pillows. “It’s too bad I didn’t get his number.” 

As if graced by a higher power, your phone buzzes with a message and you rise from the comfortable, slack position with a giddy expression. You quickly unlock your phone and you’re met with a text message from a soap company promoting their new line. You groan and fall back to bed. 

A knock at your window makes you jump out of your skin. You turn and see a hand fisted, hovering over the window and you grin widely. You jump out of bed, pulling down on the shorts that have risen up and done little to hide what you have hidden. You throw the window open and he flinches away.

“Tomura!” He winces and retracts his hand. “Oh come on, you’ve been to my place dozen of times- granted without my permission-”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He hisses and when you move away from the window, you encourage him to enter. He narrows his eyes at you and he enters your room. “What the-” he mutters when you move past him and shut the window, latching on the lock and closing the curtain.

“Oh Tomura,” you sigh and walk over to the bed. “You’ve been stalking me and now you’re going to get mad when I allow you into my home?” You spread your arms wide and give him an incredulous smile. “You must have been inside my place before- right?” You nod encouragingly at him.

“Yes,” he whispers, eyes darting around.

“Okay. So what have you done then? I’ve never had a stalker as committed as you are,” you coo, crossing your leg over the other. “To be honest, I haven’t seen my other stalkers as of late.” You tilt your head. “You wouldn’t happen to know what  happened to them would you?”

“Do you know who I am?” 

You shake your head and you have this innocent look when you bat your eyelashes at him. “Entertain me.” You smile sweetly at him. “Come on kitten,” you coo. 

He opens his mouth and mouths words but ultimately closes it. 

“Cat got your tongue?” You lilt, a knowing smile on your lips. “I’m fairly positive on who you are. And if I’m right, then I’m a lot more positive about what you’ve done to them. You left their watches or fan memorabilia on my doorstep and the next day I hear they go missing. It’s uh, rather uncouth,” you giggle and scratch the side of your jaw. “I could have gotten in trouble for it, you know?”

“You recognized what they wore?”

You raise your index and puff your chest. “I recognize all- or at least most- of the fans that I have! It’s important to keep my fans happy.” You smile cheekily at him and give him finger guns. “So you invited yourself over. Is there something you wanted to talk about?”

“Why?” When you tilt your head and the smile falls from your face, he continues. “Why did you give me your number?”

You shrug. “To be perfectly honest, I just found you interesting. You’re like this enigma to me. I have suspicion of who you are and if my suspicions are true, then that brings so many more questions. I have to ask- What made you become a fan of mine, Shigaraki-san?” Your grin widens when his shoulders scare and you giggly flap your hands. “Ah! Am I right?”

He opens his mouth and he shakes his head. He buries his face into his hands and his shoulders shake. You frown and when you raise a hand to comfort him, you hear laughter. Your hand retracts as soon as he raises his head and you blink owlishly at him. His laughter is high pitched and you watch him in wonder, your smile growing and hands that jump and dance across your lap. He laughs and shakes his head, and his eyes glint with something unrecognizable. “You’re fucking insane,” he laughs.

“Does that mean you don’t want to make-out?” You bite the inside of your lips when he freezes. “I was going to invite you over but you sort of did that yourself.” He stutters and his face grows red. You allow your grin to widen and even you can tell it comes off predatory. “That’s cute you know. The whole big bad villain is flustered over a kiss,” you lick your lips, “I like it.”

“I’m not-”

You rise from the bed and cup his face in your hands, lips meshing into his and you smile into the kiss when he gasps, tongue slipping into his mouth and your hands remove themselves from his face and slide down his chest. Your hands wrap around his waist and slide towards his middle, unbuttoning his pants and zipping down his zipper. 

You pull away from the kiss and you take a deep breath. “Do you want this Tomura? Or Shigaraki? Which-”

“Tomura,” he nods, frantically, pupils dilated and cheeks red. “Call me Tomura.”

You smile sweetly at him. “Okay Tomura,” you peck his lips. “But I do want to ask again- do you-” You gasp when he presses his lips against yours. Your hand slides upwards, to cup the back of his head and you grip his hair into your hand and yank his head back. He whines and makes a sound in the back of his throat. “Don’t get too greedy now Tomu-kun,” you growl. “You still stalked me. Don’t think I forgot about that.” You let go of him and sit on the bed, slipping your shorts and underwear off and tossing them to the side. Your legs are separated and you give him a coquettish grin. “You’re free to have a taste.” 

His eyes meet yours and he nods. He sits on his knees and a hand goes down to grab at his hardening length. You tut your tongue and pat him on his head. He glares at you, only to soften when you narrow your eyes at him.

“Oh Tomu-kun,” you sigh. “You made my first few months a literal hell with how paranoid I was. You really don’t get to have the happy ending right now.” Your lips curl upwards and teeth come to show. “I do. You aren’t allowed to touch yourself until I say so. I’m really not above punishing if needed, kitten.” You slip your top off and tilt your hair. “Understood?” He nods. “Good,” you give him a honeyed smile and grab at your inner thigh. “So lick it baby.”

His tongue is hot against your core. He laps at it feverishly, mouth swirling past your clit and slipping into your slit, suckling at the arousal that seeps from you. He rocks himself on his knees and presses his face further into you and your heel presses into his back. His arm twitches and he whines pitifully into you, the vibration making you jerk your hips towards his face.

“No touching,” you mewl, grabbing at your breast and rubbing a pebbled nipple. “Not yet Tomu-kun. Just hold out.” 

He nods against you and his tongue pushes around your clit, swirling the pulsing bud around, tongue peeking out and lips wrapping around to suckle on it and his swipes down, nose brushing against it causing your legs to tense and a moan to sound in the back of your throat. His tongue flicks in and out of you, circling and rubbing your inner walls, your sex leaking with desire as your breaths grow deeper. 

“Good boy,” you murmur, your hand reaching between your legs to grab at a tendril of his hair, holding it between your fingers. “Who knew you’d be so good at following directions. You’re such a good boy, kitten.” You rise on your elbows and his eyes meet yours. “Come on kit, don’t you want to know what I taste like? How sweet my orgasm is? How it’ll feel as I tighten around your tongue?”

His feasting becomes more feverish, tongue swishing inside of you, he presses his face closer to your sex, desperate to get you to reach your high and you sigh. “Tomura, I’ll be nice. You get to touch me if you want.” 

As the words leave your lips, his fingers enter you and your eyes widen and body tenses. His fingers move in and out at a fast pace, lewd noises fill the room and his fingers curl inside of you, desperate to find the sweet spot that will make you curl. His digits are noble and quick, and when they press against your wall you gasp and your back arches. A whispered curse leaves your lips and you rise to a sitting position, gripping his hair in your hand. 

“Fuck Tomura,” you gasp. “Do- Do that again- oh fuck,” you groan, wrapping your legs around him and stifling a moan behind a hand when he mimics his previous actions. “Yes, Tomura. Oh- what a good boy. Fuck,” you spit out, your hands releasing his hair and harsh, ragged breaths leaving through your nose. You spill onto his face, his tongue curling inside of you, swallowing your honeyed nectar, humming as it slides down his throat. His hands still and his erection presses harshly against the fabric of his pants. You tap his head and lean back onto your back. “Okay. You know how to use your tongue.”

“Can I touch myself now?” His voice cracks and when you peek at him, you grin.

Tomura sits on his knees; your sweetness decorating his chin and making it shine under your lights, his face is blooming red and his pupils are dilated, tongue lolling out and he looks so needy. He takes stuttering breaths, ot breath fanning across your thigh, his arm twitches and a hand rises to tug on a strand of hair.

“Get on the bed, dear,” you stretch your arms above your head, “I want to try something with you.” He rises and you gasp. “Oh! Make sure you strip though. And do it slow for me, hm?”

His face burns bright and you watch with wide eyes as he removes his clothing. He does as he’s told, he removes the clothing slowly letting it pool onto the floor. His leg jerks and he looks around your room, avoiding your eyes and you think it’s cute how shy he is- how this infamous villain is brought to his literal knees with a simple command. He crawls onto the bed and you perk up as he covers his face with his hands, chest caving in with deep breaths. You run a hand across his chest, lips quirking upwards, when he jumps, your hand glides down his abdomen and flutters above his pelvis. 

“You’re so cute,” you mutter under your breath. You hold the base of his cock and run your thumb across his length. He twitches under your touch, pearly beads leaking down his cock and he makes a choking sound. You shush him gently. “You might not get the full happy ending, but you’ll get one.” Your hands glide above him, wrapping him in a firm grip. You take a peek at him, an eye on you as you work him with your hands. “You still stalked me you know. And even if I am attracted to you, I really can’t forgive that,” you chuckle. “I went through such a bad spell of paranoia, you know?” You turn to look at him and your grip tightens. “Be grateful I’m even touching you like this.” You return your attention to his thickness and jerk him slowly. Your lips hover over his slit that beads and you whisper onto him, “You’re not being very grateful, you know?”

He grumbles under his breath. “Thank you,” it comes out in a hoarse whisper. “I- Thank you so much.” He whines when he feels your tongue lap across his slit. “Fuck,” he archs his back when your mouth suctions his cockhead, “fuck.” He squirms and his breathing grows deeper, hoarser while your tongue swirls around him and sucks him deeper. “Thank you,” he croaks, repeating it like a mantra, hands carefully poised above his stomach leaving red lines to avoid decaying your covers.

You pop off his shaft, a string of drool and pre-ejaculate connecting you to his cock and you lick your lips. “You’re a bit of a bitter kitten,” you speak slowly, mouth still parted open and glistening. “I’m not sure if I like it or not.” Your hand works him slowly, more enthralled with the feeling of him in your grasp and you bring a nail to ghost over a prominent vein, smirking when he moans. “Say my name Tomura. I want to hear it.”

He repeats your name under his breath. It’s quiet, nothing more than a murmur in the night, a silent plea laced into your name, filled with want and desire, until it grows, chanting it louder, the want more prominent, hands that dig into his belly and leave red crescent marks in its wake. He moans it out, broken by guttural groans of pleasure as you quicken your pace. Your name is echoed throughout your home, bouncing off the walls, voice groaning weak and his muscles tense. You wrap your lips around him and choke when his seed slides down your throat. It’s bitter and thick, and you can feel the dripping down your throat as it slides in thick, gooey strands. You pop away from him, licking your lips and bringing your index and middle finger to your lips.

He lays in bed, bottom lip between teeth and you roll your eyes and give him a tired smile. Your hand rests above his and he stiffens. “You’ll ruin your lips like that, kitten. You’ve been here plenty, you know where the kitchen is. I’m going to take a shower. You’re free to join me,” you coo, circling your finger around his pebbled nipple. You rise from the bed and give a pat to his thigh, leaving the room filled with rough breathing and little mewls of pleasure.

[its-ya-boi-autumn]

scenario where hisoka is your boss and he’s giving you a promotion and one of the benefits is being naughty after work hours in his office ;) thank you so much! love the way you write💜💜

Sure baby~ I haven't written for my man's in ages 🤣🤣🤣 I just want you to know how much I fucking hate the name "Mr. Morow" so I added it to just piss myself off 🙃😂 idk how business shit works so I tried I hope you enjoy anyway~😂

Being at the top of his list meant one of two things. Either being fired, or being promoted. You got lucky, seeing as you did your job and you did it well. You made the most sales out of all of your coworkers and Hisoka, your boss, was rather reliant on your skills it seemed. He called you into his office and told you about your promotion, leaving you bouncing your way home that day. Of course, when you came back to work the next day, he called you back into his office, saying he had something important to talk to you about. What that was, you weren't actually sure. Nobody else was really in the building at this time of the night, except maybe a few over timers.

You had barely made it to the door when he called you in.

"Come in miss l/n." his voice was sultry sweet to your ears, luring you in closer to him. You weren't necessarily in love with your employer, as a matter of fact you had a boyfriend at home. Though you did lust for Mr. Morow at times. You waltzed up to his desk, shutting the door behind you, and sat in the chair in front of him. Your legs crossed at the knee and your hands folded on top of them, your back straightening and chin lifting for a facade of confidence. You didn't think he'd fire you of course, not this late in the evening and certainly not after just promoting you. He leaned over his desk, his eyes fixated on yours.

"Good afternoon dear, how was your shift?" he cooed. You gave him a small smile, happy to have been asked. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for him to question you about your day, or any of his employees for that matter.

"It was alright, same as always." you replied. Mr. Morow nodded his head slowly, averting his eyes to his folded hands on the desk. When the amber yellow met you again you couldn't help but feel a pang of... something. It was a difficult thing to process right away, but it was rather pleasurable, stifling the minor whine in your throat as you gulped quietly.

"May I ask why I was called in so late, sir?" you shifted in your seat to a more suitable positioning of professionalism, as if the one you held wasn’t already good enough. Mr. Morow took notice of your change in behavior, letting his head rest on his folded hands and letting his gaze linger on you. He hummed when you responded accordingly, your eyes falling to your feet.

“I simply wanted to advise you of assets and benefits of this new position you’ve been offered Miss L/N, you actually get to have one of them tonight if you so wish. Though I don’t think your lover would approve very much.” he explained, sitting up straight and opening a drawer from underneath his desk, smacking a file on the wood top and closing the drawer. His manicured hands flipped open the folder to reveal some paperwork to give to you. Scooting your chair closer, you eyed the stack in front of you. His final sentence swam around in the haze of your mind. What did that even mean?

“These are the benefits I’ve listed for you specifically, there’s just one that I wasn’t sure how to word so I changed it up a bit. It may sound a bit odd.” he handed you the packet so you could look through it. From what you saw everything seemed normal. Dental, doctors, car, all insurance policies and benefits, vacation time was extended as well as an upgrade in pay. Though the only thing you could think of that could possibly have any connotation with Mr. Morow’s words was something along the lines of ‘able to stay after hours and withhold a key to the building’. Even that didn’t seem remotely similar to what the other promotions got. Sure, they could extend their hours if they pleased, but none got an actual key to the building like this. Only the main manager of the building was allow to have that.

“Mr. Morow, are you sure this was right? You’re allowing me to hold a key to the building?”

“Are you saying I shouldn’t trust you Miss L/N?” your last name rolled off his tongue so easily and it made you shiver.

“Do I get the key tonight?” you neatly rearranged the packet back to normal before setting it back down onto the desk before him, his hands still folded in front of him. The way his eyes smiled behind his bangs along with his mouth turned your cheeks a bright pink. Something about it set you off, but in a good way.

When he finished plotting whatever it was in his head, Mr. Morow sat up straight again and motioned for you to come to him with his two forefingers.

“Come dear.” he beckoned you with sweet lilts in his tone. Of course your first instinct was to deny, saying that if this was going where you thought it was then you’d both surely lose your job if anyone found out. But on the other hand you almost couldn’t help yourself, your legs moving to stand before you could stop them really. Mr. Morow leaned back in his chair, pushing it back to give you room on his desk. Your pencil skirt suddenly felt more fitting than it had earlier, suffocating the heat between your legs. Mr. Morow motioned for you to sit in front of him on the wood.

"You get to stay after hours with me if you like, meaning you get the keys for the morning shifts to enter. Of course I won't make you do mornings, I'll keep you on evenings if you like. But under one condition."

"I'll take it." you stated before he could even get his sentence all the way out. His yellow eyes widened and his lips upturned in a smile.

"Good girl." he cooed, leaning forward with his head nearly on your lap. Instinctivly your legs opened enough for his head to enter. He seemed to be slightly surprised at your bold actions. Possibly suspecting you wouldn’t be so willing.

"You're rather eager, has the man at home not been treating you well?" he chuckled, taking your thighs in his hands and pushing them up and open more. The mention of your boyfriend somehow didn't even faze you. You simply allowed Mr. Morow to continue his movements. He rolled his chair closer to you, pushing you back slightly. You fell onto your elbows with your head following suit, staring at the brightly lit ceiling above you.

The sudden pressure of his tongue against your clothed slit sent goosebumps crawling around your thighs. You let out a stifled whine of pleasure. Mr. Morow kissed your pussy gently and hummed, letting his thumb slide your panties to the side. Your skirt had ridden up a considerable height and you were tempted to just take it off at this point. He lapped his tongue between your folds, focusing on penetrating the damp hole there. His free hand pressed lightly on your clit, nudging you closer towards your orgasm. His thumb flit across the sensitive bud before sliding his tongue up to lick circles around you. Your breathing was completely off as the overwhelming feeling continued.

Before you could come close to finishing, he pulled away, letting your panties fall back into place. You let out an exasperated whine of disappointment.

His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you onto his thigh from his desk. Your panties were soaked, covered in saliva and your own arousal. The contact against his leg and your pussy made you whimper, bucking against him immediately. He stopped you mid hump and waved his finger at you.

"Oh I don't think so, at least not yet princess. You can wait." His hands held a vice grip on your hips, immobilizing them. You whined to him as you swished your legs. Hisoka chuckled at your cute action before tensing his thigh. Immediately you clenched, of course around nothing, but nonetheless you felt the friction. Your head rested on his shoulder to hide the shame of your need. He tittered at your adorableness.

"No need to be shy dear, it's only me~" he soothed, his hands resting on your ass to squeeze gently. You tried to rut again his thigh again. He didn't stop you this time, in, fact encouraging the action by leaning back to watch you.

"Does that feel good?" he assisted your movements by rocking your hips along his leg. The added momentum gave you more friction to get off on. Your hands gripped the top of his thigh harshly for better grip to stabilize yourself as you picked up your pace. Hisoka found this amusing apparently as when he raised your chin to look at him he gave you a sly smirk.

"Answer me kitten." he kept his distance from you and the observing nature of his position made you shy, but arousal was clouding too much of your pain to think about it long. It made you even hotter and you couldn't help the whimper as you nodded your head.

"Yes sir..." you muttered, your lids falling closed as the feeling took over your core. Your abdomen was tightening this time and fairly quickly. You bounced a little to alleviate the ache on your clit as you reached closer for your high. Mr. Morow didn't stop you this time, simply letting you ride your end out on top of him.

"Oh good girl~" he praised you again while his hands wandered up your shirt, unbuttoning the blouse in the process. You could feel yourself going slack, your body relaxing into his touch. Once the buttons of your shirt were handled, he cupped your breath roughly, his nails grazing your skin. Another soft whine left your lips as your hands reached up to his wrists, holding onto him because of you sensitivity. His hands traveled down your waist to your underwear to take them off. You lifted your legs accordingly for easier removal and let them fall back down heavily. Mr. Morow stood you up off his thigh and turned you around, bending you over his desk. He wasted no time in shoving in a saliva slicked finger into your weeping sex before pulling it back out again. Your head laid onto the thick wood of the desk, arms folded under you gripping onto the straps of your bra.

Mr. Morow quickly filled you with his length, most likely wary of how long you were taking in his office suddenly. He gave you no time to adjust before pounding into you, his hand covering your mouth in case you got to loud. Your eyes were wide in surprise at the intrusion, not expecting something so big. Your fingers white-knuckled from your tight grip on your bra strap, trying to hang onto something. The way his tip brushed against your sweet spot made your legs shudder against the table, barely able to stand up. One of his hands held you under your hips and pulled up changing the angle at which his thrusts reached you. Your own hands grabbed onto his wrist for dear life as he changed his pacing to a much quicker pattern. You hadn’t finished yet, but you could already feel your wetness dripping between your thighs.

“Oh dear, are you close already?” his teasing voice sounded from behind you when your walls tightened around him. His motion didn’t falter in the slightest, in fact slamming into you with more vigor, ready to finish himself off. Your nails had dug into his hand, drawing blood onto your fingers and his desk. The hand covering your mouth let go and instead laced it self into your hair, tugging your head up and forcing your back into an uncomfortable arch. You braced your forearms over the desk, gasping for air with every pump of his hips.

“Come now sweetheart, I know you can sing beautifully~” the metaphor enlightened your mind, setting fire to any decency you had left. Moans and curses slipped from your lips, making Mr. Morow grunt from behind you. The sounds he made made you clench again, tightening around his twitching cock. His hand left your hair and slipped between your legs underneath you, sliding around your swollen clit once more to push you over the edge. Your moans soon turned back into whimpers and whines as your orgasm leaked through your folds and over your employers dick, one of your legs rising to open yourself more. Mr. Morow moaned out loud for you once he finished his own high, riding it out inside of you as you painfully let him finish. Once you set your leg back down you couldn’t stop shaking. He pulled out of you and zipped his pants back up, whirling to find your panties and setting them next to you.

“Go ahead and put those back on. I’ll drive you home tonight.” he offered, finding his suit jacket so he could grab his keys. Lazily, you slid your underwear back over your legs and followed him out the door, a few eyes glancing towards you as you passed by.

[shokano19]

Dr stone characters as types of TikTokers

Warning: Contains manga spoilers for new characters! You can skip those you don’t know! 

Not sure where this idea came from exactly but I got super into it and it was really fun. Consider these to be my headcanons for a dcst AU where they don’t get petrified and instead everyone is TikTok famous. 

Senku

- science 101 - makes educational videos aimed generally at students struggling at school with subjects like biology, physics, chemistry, robotics, engineering, and astronomy, explaining them thoroughly and in a simpler form - random astronomical facts #n - goes live when he’s about to do a reaction experiment - wants to show his viewers how exhilarating science can be - rarely shows his face - tries to incorporate humour into his talks - it becomes evident he’s passionate or excited about the subject by his little chuckles - “visiting my father at NASA before rocket launch” - Taiju sometimes takes over his account as a lil prank - on everyone’s for you page with minimal effort - 14M followers

Gen

- magic tricks - social science veteran - shares psychology hacks he learned throughout his career - props his phone on his cola bottles to film himself - CEO of accidentally dropping his phone on the floor - Senku’s fanboy. Reacts to Senku’s videos on occasion by acting extra and makes a huge deal out of rare pictures of Senku - posts cut scenes from his magic show then makes separate videos revealing how he performed a certain trick - cynical, dark humour - makes his viewers question their moral compass - gets a lot of compliments for his hair - 10.5M followers

Chrome

- step by step 3 minute crafts - Senku’s fanboy #2. Video duets with Senku by building the same things as him, praises Senku a lot  - geology student studying mineralogy - storytime! - regular shout-outs from Senku - always has his precious rock/crystal collection displayed behind him as he films a video and makes sure to show them off every once in a while - 2M followers

Kohaku

- trash talks men without stuttering - films herself in front of a mirror most of the time - zooms a lot into her face and stares into the camera while speaking, looking dead inside - dimmed disco lights - ironic and sassy - usually spits facts about anything she talks about - confident vibes - ayo famous relative check (Lillian Weinberg’s niece) - her duets are cruel - 1.9M followers

Ginro

- the POV - makes relatable yet obscure videos - some questionable scenarios no one can explain - yes he wears a big towel on his head when impersonating girls   - includes Kinro in his videos a lot - anime weeb - always posts at unholy hours - refined sense of humour - majority of videos are taken in his bedroom - lowkey annoying - video replies to hate comments by either faking acting hurt and crying or sarcastically going along with them as a massive fuck you - 69k followers and he would like it if it stayed that way

Kinro

- beautiful scenery shots - only has a few videos, mostly nature and places he went to with his family and friends - “top 5 places you must visit this summer” - secretive about his account, no one except Ginro knows about it - 7.9k followers - after a while he switched to making ASMR?? which gained him fame overnight and now has …. - 45k followers (Ginro’s current worst fear being Kinro surpassing his own follower count)

Magma

- unpopular opinion guy - reacts to popular tiktoks and attempts to review them (for fun, he’s a jerk for clout) - loud af, angry & narrow minded - makes valid points sometimes - dislikes kohaku’s content (probably because he feels called out) - tried to cancel Senku and failed miserably - a lot of people disagree with his hot takes - ignored the haters but got some serious threats :( - considered quitting making tiktoks so he took break - apologized to those he insulted after some reflection time - now half of his account are just apology videos - people follow him for the tea  - 500k followers

Suika (aged up)

- the animal lover - mainly videos of Chalk being adorable, Suika teaching him tricks…and him wrecking the house - “animal crossing new horizons island tour” - “my top 10 favourite cartoons” - 11k followers

Tsuakasa

- long political talks - disputable ideals - renowned martial artist  - became famous after appearing on a broadcast program with Gen and won against him in mental battle - informs on what’s currently happening in the world - has a lot of supporters as well as haters - “today’s society is flawed because - ” - encourages viewers to write their opinion in the comments - reads every single comment as well as replies to them - occasionally talks about his childhood, the good and the bad - 7.6M followers

Ryusui

- chaotic - reviews popular console/pc games of any genre - youtube channel linked in his bio - the type to walk into his bathroom and say funny shit - bombards Tsukasa’s comments section with stuff like “drop yo workout routine plz” or “your hair looks so soft I bet it smells like roses” to which Tsukasa can only reply with “please leave me alone” - generally in everyone’s comment section. He’s everywhere - bi king - super friendly and approachable - ayo rich house checkkkk XD - flexes on his personal mini yacht  - 5M followers

Francois

- quick, stylish and helpful cooking tutorials - shares rare recipes - pro decorator  - worked at 4/5 star bars, restaurants and clubs - non-binary icon - sometimes in the background of Ryusui’s videos until a lot of people asked about their relationship and revealed that they also works as Ryusui’s personal chef - 3.2M followers

Ukyo

- variety content creator - gives walkthrough’s of his job as a sonar technician - sneakily exposes his workplace’s secrets while he’s at it too - likes to gather the kingdom of science and make dumb silly videos together - archery tips for beginners - starting a new language tips - video reacts to tiktoks he finds interesting - became popular after appearing in one of Gen’s q&a videos - after that he collaborated with many others such as Senku, Chrome, Ryusui - close to everyone - appreciated for his talents - 980K followers

Yuzuriha

- fashion icon in the making - shares her everyday outfits - talks about her favourite clothing and where she bought them from - DIY accessories - cute couple videos with Taiju - fun sewing lessons! - promotes her online shop - 330k followers

Hyouga

- the type to stand in front of the camera and cover the screen with writing instead of speaking - known for his lip care routines (owns a lot of lip glosses and lip cosmetics) - occasionally takes off his mask for lip care videos - Homura is always behind the camera helping him film - kudayari spear practices - Helps Homura promote her Instagram account - tries to keep an aesthetic - trips abroad vlogs - 770k followers

Mozu

- cringey e-boy - lip-syncs  - dances  - it’s so obvious he’s fishing for attention - secretly films Kirisame for a laugh, ends up with him running for his life as soon as she finds out - expect to get second-hand embarrassment - exaggerates a lot - needs to be stopped - does tiktok challenges with Kirisame (has to beg for her to agree) - Kohaku, Luna, Gen and Nikki have him blocked - Hyouga and Kirisame are literally the only ilr friends he has :,( - 420k followers

Luna

- popular girl wannabe - desperate to get on the for you page - everyone loves her though <3 - poses in front of the camera wearing her best clothes while cute music plays in the background - complains about how she’s STILL single - pros and cons of going to med school - reads a bunch of funny tweets and almost dies laughing - recently started following Senku and can’t shut up about his content - 200k followers

Bonus: all of them tried at least once, if not more, to recreate complicated dances that went viral on tiktok. Yes, even Senku.

Coming up with usernames for them is beyond me right now so feel free to add to these however you like!  ( ✧≖ ͜ʖ≖)

[saebyeog-i]

a formal occasion | pcy (m)

“He could probably hear your muttering but not any specific words, so you waved your hands subtly in an attempt to reassure him that everything was fine, nothing unusual was happening, and your boyfriend definitely wasn’t talking about sex while seated in the third row pew of a church.”

genre | established relationship idolverse au, romance-ish?, softer than I intended this to be, half fluff/half smut, my attempt at humor, a mostly unedited one shot

warnings | uhhh inappropriate whispering during church, mentions of drinking and celebratory tequila shots, under the dinner table fingering does that count as exhibitionism, dirty talk on the dance floor, semi-public sex, I’m a slut for PCY in a suit (a soft, overly romantic and emotional slut, but a slut nonetheless).

word count | this is 6.66k because i’m going to hell

pairing | PCY x f!reader

—

“I wonder if they fucked in the last week,” he whispers in your ear, leaning over from his place next to you in the pew.

Your eyes bugged out, pupils the size of saucers as your brain caught up and processed. Did you hear him right? Did he actually just ask that? “Oh my god,” you muttered, not wanting to cause a scene or feed into his poorly timed query.

“The dress is really pretty, she looks good, though the white’s not really accurate given… you know,” he gestured his hands vaguely in front of him, low enough that only you could see. “Now that I think about it, I can’t even count the number of times he bailed on plans with me or the guys to go hang out with her in the last six months. But I guess now we know it wasn’t just hanging out as much as it was—”

“Chanyeol!” You hiss, eyes darting around to see if anyone heard him.

“What?” He jeers back in a hushed tone, “It’s not like it’s a secret— ow!”

Were this a conversation the two of you were having in private (namely, in your own apartment or bed), then maybe your reaction would be different other than you reaching under his suit coat and pinching the flesh of his oblique muscles harshly between your thumb and forefinger. But it wasn’t in private— you were in public, in a church no less, at Jongdae’s wedding.

“Shut. Up. Now,” you muttered lowly through gritted teeth. They were only on the first reading, so there was roughly another half hour before the ceremony would end, depending on how long each subsequent reading and the vows would take. Even if his mind was wandering somewhere slightly inappropriate, you were grateful that despite being a groomsman you were able to be seated next to your boyfriend for the duration of the ceremony. Chanyeol knew you well enough by now to know that you really didn’t like just being an accessory if you accompanied him somewhere specifically as his date. Maybe it was selfish, but truthfully it was more because you barely got to spend time with him as it was with his busy schedule, but you preferred when he could stay by your side like this.

You knew most of the boys’ partners, and you all got along well. Hell, it was even you and Jongae’s soon to be wife who had the idea for all of you to get together when the boys were on tour last and have a good ol’ fashioned ‘girls night’, whatever that meant. (Wine. It meant entirely too much wine and an hour of promising you were going to take turns cooking different snacking foods only to end up ordering delivery. Though instead of sappy romantic comedies, the lot of you watched some zombie apocalypse movies and a few comedy specials. All in all, a good night.)

Even though you’d been together for almost two years, you still felt slightly anxious any time you accompanied him to an event, public or private. Publicly, you were just among the throngs of ‘Guests of EXO’, usually not getting to spend any time close to him. Privately, however, you were able to be glued to his side— not that Chanyeol would have it any other way. You were more on the introverted side of the spectrum, and sometimes having such an extrovert for a boyfriend was downright exhausting. But he’d been so excited to bring you along to the wedding, saying that it was the first big happy life milestone for a member of the group, and he wanted you to be a part of it.

It didn’t take too long for him to convince you, either. Once it became clear how far their management would go to protect the details of the event and keep as much of it as private as possible, you felt more at ease about joining him. You had your fair share of qualms about the label, of which Chanyeol was well aware (let’s just say you didn’t have the tightest lips when you’d been drinking), but so far today was handled better than you’d expected.

“Seriously though—” he whispered, tilting his head towards you again.

“Zip. It. We are in a church,” you shot back, locking eyes with him. On his other side, you could see Junmyeon leaning slightly forward, eyebrows raised and giving you both a questioning look. He could probably hear your muttering but not any specific words, so you waved your hands subtly in an attempt to reassure him that everything was fine, nothing unusual was happening, and your boyfriend definitely wasn’t talking about sex while seated in the third row pew of a church.

Said boyfriend held his hands up defensively, shoulders shrugging as he muttered under his breath “I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking! Everyone knows you can still have sex while you’re earlier on in a pregnancy—”

“Yeol!”

⬷ ❤ ⤐

Miraculously, you made it through the remainder of the ceremony without any mishaps and Chanyeol keeping any additional commentary to himself. The reception was held at a lovely partially outdoor venue with a garden and a large white tent, with plenty of room for dancing socializing. The number of invited guests was more than you’d anticipated, but then again, you guessed that Jongdae was a popular guy. You were seated at the head table with the rest of the bridal party, nursing a vodka soda while you watched the bridesmaids and groomsmen give their speeches.

And then it was time for the first dance of the newlywed couple.

Of course there was live music at this event— why wouldn’t there be? When the groom was a member of the nation’s boy group, it would have been near criminal not to have some nod to his livelihood. Chanyeol had been beaming with pride when he and Baekhyun had been asked to perform for their first dance, insisting that it was always their first choice, and not just because Kyungsoo was only able to get off base the day of the ceremony for leave from his enlistment and wouldn’t be able to rehearse at all. He also definitely didn’t count this as ‘sweet retribution’ for the tiny grudge he definitely didn’t still hold over his sister and the fact that Yoora had asked Kyungsoo to sing at her wedding for her first dance instead of him.

Watching Chanyeol perform on stage with the rest of his members or for his subunit with Sehun was always a treat, but there was something markedly special about watching him perform like this: playing an instrument, this time an acoustic guitar, side by side with Baekhyun on a pair of barstools. They were playing some love song you recognized but didn’t know the words to, and Baekhyun’s voice was doing a beautiful justice to the song. Every now and again, Chanyeol would lean forward into the mic angled in front of him and harmonize. They’d only rehearsed this a handful of times, what with busy schedules and each of them working on preparations for comebacks soon, but it still sounded heavenly to you. You watched appreciatively, even taking a moment to look around at the guests to see a number of cell phones out to film them.

For a while, it was if Chanyeol was in his own world that was just him, Baekhyun, Jongdae, and his now wife. But as the song approached its end, his eyes fluttered open and his gaze drifted to where you sat. You’d seen him through a plethora of different hair styles and colors in the time you’d been together, and while you loved his natural black hair, a different part of you was fond of the bleached blond hair he was currently sporting for filming a comeback music video. You smiled shyly, looking down at your glass for a moment before back up at him, the alcohol and the long day swirling together to make you feel just a little bit warm. He was the self proclaimed romantic of the group, the one who cried the most, and the one who talked about his feelings the most. Despite his stature and his sometimes intimidating persona when on stage, he was no more ferocious than a teddy bear, and you loved him all the more for it.

By the time the song had finished and he and Baekhyun had made their own rounds with the guests who wanted to say hello, compliment their performance, or ask for the occasional photo, you’d gotten just a little bit sleepy. You were chatting with Jongin, asking how his recent tour and promotions were going,  and he was telling stories of their recent show in Paris and how it was very different from the last time he’d been when you felt a pressure on the top of your head.

“Can I help you? You’re going to ruin my hair.” You didn’t need any indication of who was leaning almost their entire bodyweight on top of you. He was getting restless, so of course he was getting clingy.

“Was I good? Tell me I was good. You liked it right? Gosh, I know I’m so talented and so handsome, you’re really lucky to have a boyfriend like me,” he went on and on, fishing for praise and you rolled your eyes, looking to Jongin for some kind of aid. He only laughed, holding up his phone to snap a photo before firing it off into some group chat or another. You made a mental note to file this moment away for reference if there ever came a future time when Jongin would make pleading eyes for you to come to his rescue as he had so kindly failed to do for you just now.

You whined as Chanyeol leaned further forward, going deadweight on top of you at your lack of response. “Yah! Too heavy, you’re gonna crush me!” Of course he started to laugh, and of course he relented finally, pulling out the chair next to you and settling down. He flipped over his phone which he’d left on the table and began scrolling through his unread notifications, left hand reaching over to rest on your knee but his focus staying on his screen, so you turned back to the others to continue polite conversation.

Chanyeol was a very physical person. He was very touchy feely. But he wasn’t exactly big on PDA, unless you were in trustworthy company. It was not unusual for him to keep a hand on your arm, your leg, your waist, even if his attention was focused elsewhere when you were in such company. It was a slightly possessive habit of his, but not one you minded all that much. It was comforting, really, a reminder that he was still right there.

You never really minded it all that much until, that is, you felt that slightly possessive hand snake its way under the skirt of your dress via the slit on your right leg and up your thigh. You were mid sentence answering a question from Yixing about your most recent vacation when you felt Chanyeol’s fingers making their way under the fabric of your underwear and drawing circles on your hip bone. That was all fine and dandy, until a moment later when you felt his hand reach further over towards your core and then the pad of his thumb rub two harsh circles over your clit in quick succession, causing you to inhale sharply at the sensation and choke on whatever unimportant words were coming out of your mouth at that moment. You were definitely more awake now than you were five minutes ago.

“Babe? You okay?” He had the audacity of asking you, feigned concern spread across his face.

You grimaced and nodded, inching your chair forward slightly so your lap was covered by more of the tablecloth. Chanyeol’s fingers retreated to your hip bone. “Mmm. Just uh, a cramp, that’s all,” you turned back to Yixing with a smile and finished your earlier sentence as your phone buzzed on the table in front of you.

Quickly, you pulled it into your lap to read the message.

찬열 20:04 I thought your period was last week?

You really never should have given him shared access to the health app data on your phone where you tracked your cycle. Seriously. But he had asked, insisted even, saying that he wanted to be aware so he couldn’t know when you needed a restock on tampons, or maybe when having some extra dark chocolate lying around the house would be appreciated.

20:06 It was, you’re just a monster and it was the first excuse I could think of.

찬열 20:07 But if you really didn’t like it, you’d tell me to stop, wouldn’t you?

You shot him a dirty look and had half a thought to step on his toes with the heel of your shoe under the table. As if he could read your mind and your intentions, he retaliated preemptively by slipping two fingers back under the fabric of your panties and between your folds. You bit down on the inside of your mouth, hard, unwilling to be caught by any of the people surrounding you.

But he was right. You didn’t really want him to stop. If you were being honest, you’d been just a little bit horny all day— something about everyone dressed up all dapper, specifically Chanyeol in a suit with his hair styled up on the top like it was now. You felt the slightest hesitation in the movements of Chanyeol’s hand, and you knew it was in slight surprise to the amount of moisture he found. Eyes still focused on his phone screen, his fingers found their way inside of you and curled as he gave two drawn out pumps, placing pressure right where you felt it the most.

찬열 20:11 You’re so wet… have you been thinking about this all night? Fuck, you’re dirty

20:12 Shut up shut up shut UP Just fucking do me or don’t or I swear to god, Yeol

찬열 20:13 Oh okay, I’ll stop

“No,” you hissed out, a hand grabbing his wrist and stopping him from removing his fingers from inside of you. If he was going to tease you this much, he was going to finish the damn job. Across the table from you, you saw Minseok raise his eyebrows curiously at you while sipping on his glass of red wine. Like Kyungsoo, he’d also only been able to take leave from his enlistment for a single night, and it would be the only night he’d get for months yet to come, but he’d even said there was no way he was going to miss this.

The conversation around you resumed, and you politely remained as engaged as you could while your boyfriend was knuckle deep inside of you. and nodding when appropriate. You sighed out and relaxed against the back of your chair, inching your hips forward and meeting his fingers on a thrust inward as Chanyeol quietly and lazily fucked you with his hand. He was mostly just teasing you, lightly stoking the flame in the pit of your belly, keeping your desire going but never satisfying it. It was like he was timing his movement, his slender and well trained fingers never paying enough attention to any one part of your center to actually put you over the edge.

You could feel the crown of your head becoming damp with sweat. God, was he really able to work you up this much in public? Did you have a thing for exhibitionism? Did he? You’d never spoken about that as a potential kink together, but maybe based on your body’s reaction to current events it warranted a conversation later—

“Shit,” you coughed out quietly after one particularly hard thrust of his fingers and a rub on your clit almost sent you spiraling. Did Minseok just snicker? No, no way, he was talking to Junmyeon and his date, he wasn’t paying attention to you and Chanyeol. Involuntarily your walls clenched around him and you leaned forward covering your mouth with your napkin, trying to hold in a moan as you tapped out another message.

20:26 Could you PLEASE stop edging me and either make me cum or get your hand out of my pants while the rest of your friends are five feet away?

찬열 20:29 Mmmm you know I was thinking about it But now that you say it like that, no. Maybe if you asked nicely.

20:30 Fuck you I said ‘please’

찬열 20:32 Is that a threat or a promise?

Before you could even muse a comeback let alone type one out, Chanyeol quickens his pace, and one, two, three brushes against your clit and you’re tumbling over the edge. It was by far not the strongest you’d ever orgasmed on Chanyeol’s hand, and honestly you were grateful— it made it possible for you to (you thought) remain calm, demurely raise your water glass to your lips, and take a long drink while your eyes fluttered closed and he worked you through the waves, like a slow undulation washing over your body in warmth.  

Were you not actively in the middle of dozens of people, you would have half expected him to bring his fingers to his mouth and suck the cum off of them. You fantasized briefly about him doing it anyways, pinching the top of your thigh to snap out of the post-orgasm daze and remind yourself of your surroundings. Calmly, he wiped his hands on the napkin in his lap before glancing your way with a smile plastered on his face and planting a tender kiss on your cheek.

“What was that for?” You asked, your voice breathier than you’d intended. Even if it wasn’t that strong, the high mixed with the alcohol had you dizzy, drunk on wine and his affection and you thought again how good he looked in that suit.

“Nothing,” he grinned even wider, “I just love you, that’s all.”

You let out a sharp laugh, flicking your eyebrows up critically as you began thinking of ways to get back at him later.

Junmyeon’s eyebrows furrowed as he called your name and asked, “Have you had enough to eat? You look a little flushed. Too much to drink maybe?” He offered hesitantly, ever the one to be caring and concerned.

Minseok rolled his eyes and snorted. “Sure, that’s all she’s had tonight.”

“What?” The leader asked, not quite catching on.

“Ah Myeonnie, I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Minseok mused, leaning back into his chair with a cheshire grin as he drank from his glass some more.

You were, of course, nothing short of mortified.

⬷ ❤ ⤐

The following hours passed and slowly, guests began drifting away, and the crowd reduced down to only a few dozen attendees as the clock neared midnight. You had finally gotten to see Jongdae and his now-wife and congratulate them on their marriage, and on the beautiful ceremony and how much fun the party was. You’d lost count of the number of drinks you’d had, and Chanyeol had stopped his intake an hour or so ago in order to sober up and drive home, only remembering that somewhere before that Yixing had convinced everyone to do two rounds of tequila shots together. One because they were all together again for the first time in ages as he lamented that only Jongdae could reunite the family, and two when he realized that the bride was unable to join in the celebration. “We all have to drink for her because she can’t!” He’d jeered to the group, immediately waving for one of the bartenders to supply the second round. You’d giggled at his antics, but no one objected as the glasses were refilled and lime wedges passed around again.

The music had switched to a DJ at this point, and after a long stretch of high energy popular dance songs to which you heard the drunken clamor of main vocalists croon humorously off-key to, the last few had been softer, quieter slow songs. You’d finally relented and taken your shoes off, feet aching after the last several hours, and were currently swaying side to side in a lazy slow dance with your arms draped around Chanyeol’s shoulders, face halfway buried in his chest. To avoid the chances of him accidentally stepping on your bare toes, you were balancing with the bridges of your feet over his dress shoes. You’d done this a few times before, always feeling a little shy about it, worrying that you were too heavy. And yet, every time, he’d insist that no, it was fine, with a kiss on your lips or your cheek or the corner of your eye. He rather liked you relying on him like this.

It was so rare that you got to spend an entire day with him like this, surrounded by friends and chosen family. Despite how anxious you’d been earlier about this day, you felt yourself falling more in love with him as you looked into each other’s eyes. Usually a comfortable silence would be appreciated, but there was a glint in his gaze and you were compelled to ask him what he was thinking about.

“Just thinking,” he murmured into your ear, “Of when it might be our turn.”

The way your hands suddenly tightened around his was something you couldn’t help. “Cut it out, seriously Yeol. Stop teasing me, I thought you’d have had your fill with earlier,” You had to look away, pressing your forehead into his chest shyly as you thought of how you’d quietly excused yourself to go to the restroom and clean yourself up from his ‘handiwork’ under the table.

“You know I can never have enough of you,” he murmured in earnest. “I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you, you know.” Your ears burned at the whispers. “Really though— pregnant with my child or not, if someone told me I had to go a whole week without feeling your sweet cunt, I don’t think I could do it.”

You clenched your thighs together, the ache from earlier returning full force.

“You’ve done it before, you could do it again. What are you, some kinda sex addict all of a sudden?” you mused, thinking back to the times he went on tour and you were left settling for breathy moans through phone calls at odd hours due to time differences and insane schedules. The heat inside you began building again, thinking of the frantic reunions that always followed those long stretches without one another.

Chanyeol’s laugh was lodged deep in his chest, and you felt the vibrations as you kept yourself pressed against him. “The less of that the better. Being inside you feels too good to willingly deprive myself of that.”

Your cheeks flushed once more. What was up with him today and the sex talk in public? This time wasn’t so bad, considering between the music and the distance from the people still gathered your conversation felt somewhat private—at least, more private than when you were seated in church pews. Clearly he was horny given this evening’s earlier events, but you didn’t think it was this much.

You continued to sway together in relative silence while Chanyeol began to hum absentmindedly to the song playing, one you recognized as the group’s own. And then you had a thought, and you were feeling bold, and so you gave the thought life and leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had a thing for weddings and formal events.”

His grip on your waist tightened.

“I’d think maybe, you get off on dressing up all nice, the whole wine and dine, everyone seeing you look so good,” you paused, mulling over the next thought briefly before continuing, “Though we already know you get off on the attention. That must be why every time you come home from performing you can’t wait to slam my back to the mattress and fuck me into next week, huh?” You teased, rocking your hips forward just enough to press against the front of his dress pants.

In doing so, you weren’t disappointed. Your thought was, more or less, correct. You rocked your hips forward subtly once more, relishing in the feeling of his growing hard on against you. “You just can’t stop thinking about pulling me into the nearest closet or bathroom and getting balls deep in me, can you?” This, you thought as your boldness grew, was payback for earlier.

He pushed away from you suddenly, and you backed off of his feet, stumbling. You were about to apologize, thinking you’d gone too far, when he wrapped his hand around your wrist and growled lowly, “We’re leaving. Now.”

You pulled your lips between you teeth in an attempt to stifle the giggles that threatened to erupt through you as you trailed along after him, retrieving your coats and bags from the chairs at the table as he quickly said goodbyes and gave handshakes and half-hearted hugs to anyone he deemed important enough in those two minutes. You grabbed your heels and quickly slipped them back on, not bothering to buckle them as you did you best to keep up with Chanyeol’s long legs whisking you towards the parking lot of the venue.

“I can’t believe you got me hard in the middle of the dance floor,” he said, voice hushed and gravely.

“I can’t believe you fingered me under the table,” you retorted, watching as he fumbled through his pocket with his free hand and retrieved his car keys.

“I still can’t believe you let me,” he laughed in response, clicking twice and listening for where his vehicle was parked. At the sound of the beep, his eyes widened and he began outright running, and you whined at the feeling in your feet as you somehow managed to keep up with him. “God it was so hot, you did so good baby,” he cooed as the two of you reached his car. He released your wrist only to pull you close to him and cup your cheeks in his palms and place a searing needy kiss against you, which you happily returned. “Please,” he whined as he pulled away, “It’s not a bathroom or a closet but please will you please let me fuck you in the back of my car? I don’t wanna wait til we get home.”

You couldn’t even bother keeping up with idea of teasing him because seeing him so hot and bothered in that suit had you feeling needy and willing for anything. You nodded enthusiastically and he sighed in relief, opening the door to the backseat and a hand flying to the zipper of your dress and tugging it down in one go before pushing you inside.

Usually, you made fun of the deeply tinted windows when you rode in his car with him, asking him if he could even see out the windows to drive. Now, however, you were silently grateful for them, because there was no way in which you could fathom waiting until the two of you got home.

Your heels dropped off to the floor of the back seat. His suit coat was thrown tersely over the head rest of the driver’s side. The straps of your dress fell down your arms, and he trailed kisses from your neck to your  collar bone to the space between your breasts, hands snaking around to your back and nimbly undoing the clasps on your bra. You reached for his slacks, undoing the belt and buttons and yanking them down less tenderly than he had your dress— maybe that was because you knew he had plenty of pairs, and he knew this dress had been a more expensive splurge for you.  His hands gently bunched the fabric of your skirt upward as you raised your hips, pulling the garment off over your torso and attempting to throw it carefully towards the back of the car. You began undoing the buttons on his collared shirt from the bottom and when your hands met in the middle after he’d started at the top, he grabbed hold of them to pull you forward in a another kiss, holding you so tight you would have thought your lungs were the only source of his air.

“Ow! Shit shit shit,” he cried suddenly, having raised his head up too quickly to finish ridding himself of clothes and slamming it against a fixture on the ceiling.

You couldn’t help the laugh you let out. “You okay? We can just go home if it’s too cramped— oh,” your words were cut off with a moan as his fingers found their way back into your center, and you had your answer. The cramped space didn’t matter, the throbbing on the top of his head didn’t matter, the only that that did matter was you and him and how he made you feel.

He caged himself over you, curving his back to dip his head down to reach your neck to bite gently at your skin and leave faint marks in his wake while his fingers continued to work at your clit. You raked your nails down his skin, head falling back and eyes rolling with it as he pushed you higher and higher. “Stop, stop stop— any more and I’ll cum, I wanna cum with you, please,” you begged, forcing your eyes open and taking his hand in yours to remove him from you.

Chanyeol looked to the side of a moment before sighing in defeat. “No condom,” he said sullenly, lips forming an adorably disappointed pout, “We ran out of the extra stash last month, forgot to replace it.”

You thought for a minute, heavy panting filling the silence in the close confines of the car. “Well, I was going to wait for an anniversary or a special occasion to tell you, but… I changed my birth control last month,” you admitted, your unoccupied hand trailing up his abdomen to his chest, “And instead of a pill that I could forget to take, I now have an implant that’s always there, so…” you trailed off, looking up at him and batting your eyelashes in your best attempt at seduction.

Chanyeol let out a deep and guttural groan. “Fuck, fuck please baby does that mean what I think it means?”

There was something about seeing your big strong boyfriend reduced to a whining for you that redoubled your confidence and gave you the willpower to take his hand, still covered in your wetness from just a moment ago, and take his fingers into your mouth and suck them clean. His Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed harshly, eyes watching your lips the whole time.

“It means,” you said lowly after removing his fingers from your mouth with a pop, “That I want you to lay back and let me ride you until you cum inside me.”

Your boyfriend let out a shaky breath, gaping at your bold words and actions. “Fucking hell, I was just gonna say let me eat you out and I’d settle for a hand job but oh my god this is so much better,” his mouth was on yours as he pulled you close again, and you smiled into the kiss as you felt his dick twitch against your thigh.

It wasn’t the first time you’d forgone a condom with Chanyeol, but it wasn’t a frequent occurrence. The only other time you could remember off the top of your head was when he was away on tour, and your work had miraculously sent you on an overseas business trip that landed the two of you in the same city for a night. Between being a few hundred miles from home and the shared need for one another, you both ended up saying you’d just deal with the morning after pill tomorrow.

But none of that was of concern now. Now, you straddled his thighs and pushed him back, taking control of the moment. You kissed him again, slower than before, mapping the insides of his mouth with your tongue. “Ready?” You asked, circling your hips over him, cupping his face in your hands like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“God I love you,” he whispered back, stroking his hands down your sides. Slowly, with as much patience as you could muster, you lowered yourself on to him and felt your neck go limp as you adjusted to the size inside of you, a heady groan finding its way out of you. “Oh my god,” he croaked, bringing his hand to his mouth to bite on his thumb from the overwhelming sense of pleasure he felt. You hated that the thought crossed your mind, but you really could feel him so much more like this. As you purposefully clenched your walls around him once, you wondered if he felt the same. The string of curses that left his mouth answered your question.

“Good?” You asked with mirth, and he nodded feverishly, hands returning to your hips and pulling you forward. You swatted him playfully in response. “Hey, my turn on top, I set the pace,” you teased. It wasn’t often that you were courageous enough to take charge, so you wanted to relish in it as much as you could.

He laughed and pulled his hands back, holding them up defensively. “Your wish is my command, do your worst.”

You laughed out a single breath. ‘Challenge accepted.’ Fully adjusted to his size now, you rolled your hips forward slowly and snapped them back again.

The teasing comments and banter quickly subsided, replaced with only soft exhales and the sound of skin against skin. You could feel your thighs growing tired as you continued to raise and lower yourself on him, trying to stay active and make it as pleasurable for both of you as you could. But it had been a long day, and you were still tipsy, and you almost just wanted to make him come and get it over with so you could go home and fall asleep together.

Almost.

As if he could read your mind, Chanyeol’s open pouting lips curled up into a smile and and thrust up into you, meeting your hips on a movement down that had both of you gasping as the coil of heat in your belly began to bloom. You began rocking back and forth as he laid back more, the new angle reaching deeper and making you see stars.

“M’close, m’so close Yeol,” you moaned out softly. His right hand went down between you and began rubbing on your clit once more, while his other hand clasped yours, threading your fingers together. You held on for dear life, like he was the only thing that could anchor you to this plane of existence.

There was something so strangely intimate about the simple act of holding hands while fucking the love of your life that notched you just high enough to go spiraling over the edge into your orgasm. It washed over you in waves, and Chanyeol kept thrusting up under you, working you through the aftershocks until he came himself, a low throaty groan coming through his lips as you felt his cum paint your walls and his hand finally fell away from your core. You whined at the feeling, collapsing on top of him as a shudder ran down your spine, every inch of your skin overly sensitive like a livewire.

He kept one hand intertwined with yours and took his free one to brush his thumb across your cheek and tuck the stray hairs that had fallen out of place behind your ear. So gentle, so tender, but when you sat up again to plant a kiss at the corner of his mouth, you saw the mischievous glint in his eyes that meant he had something to say. You raised an eyebrow at him, waiting as you continued to try and reclaim steady breathing.

“Is this gonna be an all the time thing now? Because I’m not gonna lie, I might just bust a nut again right now if you tell me this is gonna be an all the time thing.” Even in the moments after sex, he still managed to have entirely too much energy and could talk your ear off. Nothing about the every day moments was ever too serious with Chanyeol. Somehow, there was always a sense of playfulness

You shushed him with another kiss on his lips and laughed. “Don’t nut again but yeah, I guess this can be an all the time thing now.” You knew he was kidding because he wasn’t even hard again inside you. Yet.

“Ahh! Ahh!” Chanyeol began letting out faked moans and fucked his hips up and into you, throwing his head back dramatically and pretending to come once more.

You couldn’t help but snort. “You’re such a dork.”

“Yeah but I’m your dork,” he replied, his finger tapping the tip of your nose playfully.

You pulled your face away, trying to think up some snarky remark to give him shit, and instead could only smile and let out a small laugh under your breath. His palms gently pressed to your lower back, holding you to him as if you’d disappear the moment he let go. Your hands returned to his face, thumbs brushing across his cheeks once more as you leaned in and kissed him again, slower and deeper than before. Everything you’d been through together, every secret meeting and fear of exposure and invasion of privacy, often times it felt like it might be too much— until you had moments with him like this, relishing in the feeling of connectedness and warmth and him.

After a short while of your head pressed to his chest and his hands gently stroking your back, you felt him begin to shift under you and pull out. You whined at the loss of him filling you and the skin to skin contact you craved, thinking for a heartbeat that you could just stay like this with him all night. He laughed softly, laying tender kisses all over as he mumbled apologies for needing to move, something about the side door of the car not being the most comfortable thing to have pressed against his back. He reached into a seat back pocket and fished out some stray napkins, using them to clean up the cum that spilled from you when you shifted off of his lap.

As the two of you redressed lazily and only enough to feign a sense of public decency and you crawled your way into the front passenger seat, you let out a yawn.

“Mmm see? Now we can go home and cuddle in bed,” he teased, ambling his way into the driver’s seat and buckling up as he pressed the ignition on the vehicle. Soft music filtered through the speakers, demos of his own work that he only let you listen to while they were still rough, and you felt overwhelmingly at ease with him.

With your head resting on your hand as you stared out the window at the Seoul city skyline, you felt a sense of calm settling over you, daydreaming of the softness of your shared bed that was waiting for you to collapse into it as soon as you got home. You could see from your peripheral Chanyeol’s gaze flicking over to you and then back to the road ahead as he came to a stop at a red light. “Hmm?” you mumbled, wondering if something was wrong for a moment as you shifted your gaze over to him.

“Okay, but seriously, how many times do you think they had sex today?”

“Chanyeol!”

—

author’s note | sksksksks oh my god this was so bad I am so sorry I just could NOT let go of this idea please don’t hate me I drank an entire bottle of soju and watched a supercut of the EXO section of the 2019 SM Town concert in Japan when OT6 performed in those fucking suits and then I wrote the first draft of this, sue me. Yeol really is just a big puppy that can’t let go of a question or an idea once it crosses his mind. my smut is always gonna be this kind of soft unless I’m feeling extra angsty just so you know

[katie-writes24]

Last Chance

Pairing: Alexander Hamilton x reader

Warnings: Language, suggestive material, brief religious content ig, angst, fluff, weddings, bad officiant script (if that makes sense), irl it’s kinda wrong but just go with it.

Part 2

I’ll just get straight to the point, Taylor Swift was the cause of this..... That’s it! You’re welcome, enjoy! Lemme know if you want to be tagged. Oh and also, can we appreciate that I finally figured out to put the ‘keep reading’ feature on because I finally set tumblr up on my computer? Yay me, this is a life changer you don’t even know!

As a kid, Y/N would be dragged to church every Sunday, told to represent her supposedly "religious" family. Her mother would force her into a dress, always reminding her to "sit like a lady" since there were always boys present, and you just never know. They would go and learn about the god above, be thankful that they were brought here, cheer his name. 

When she was fourteen, she went into church on a Monday, this time for a funeral. She automatically noticed the change in tone, obviously, but since then she looked at churches a bit different. They weren't praised as much, they held an entire different meaning, one that wasn’t very happy at all. No, she learned that churches could be just as devastating as celebratory. 

Like now, where people gathered in front of the steps, mingling and wearing expensive clothing. There was a truck on the lawn, workers were shoving different table sets across the road, where a large tent was set up. There was a group of people laughing a couple feet away, all looking down at a little girl with a white dress on. A stretch limousine rolled around and a few women climbed out with grace, all wearing the same pale color. 

Truly devastating. 

Y/N tugged at her own dress, hoping that the simple color would at least help her blend in with the crowd. Maria had told her it would be just fine, and it’s not like a new fancy dress was in her budget. 

Besides, it’s not like anyone here cares about her appearance. They’re not here for her. In fact, she hadn’t found one familiar face yet, which should be a good thing, but Y/N couldn’t help but wonder how many of these guests both parties even knew. 

“Would you ever get married?” 

He scoffed, “Marriage isn’t very meaningful is it, why should I have to document my love for you? As long as we both know it right?”

“Okay...I guess you’re right, but I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a nice tux.” She wiggled her eyebrows, but it didn’t bother him. 

“Is that all you’d want a wedding for? Because I will gladly put on a fancy tux if it meant you’d be down to-”

“Shut up! No, that’s not all. I’d like one, I’d think it’d be nice. It wouldn’t even have to be a big one.” She could see them by the beach, perhaps even getting married at the courthouse and use their money to blow on a big dinner after. She wouldn’t even mind a service in their apartment, it’s roomy. 

“Well, not like I have anyone for a big wedding anyways…”

She sat down next to him and stroked her fingers through his hair. “We’d invite our friends. I could invite my mom, you know she loves you. We don’t need a bunch of people to have a wedding.”

“Good, because I don’t want a giant guest list where there are different number tables and- a full service and a grand ceremony. I just...I just want you.”

She wonders how much of this is total bullshit. 

From where she’s standing, Y/N doesn’t think anyone would approach her. The lake is quite breathtaking, but the crowd is full of anxiousness and people are patiently waiting for the ceremony to start by the front of the church. 

Some people pass her by, and she picks up on certain terms, like how “beautiful the church is” or “she picked out the perfect dress, Philip was crying it was so pretty” and her favorite “just wait till you see this guy, they are just perfect for each other.”

Perfect. 

“I told you I can’t dance.”

“And I was a fool to not believe you. My feet are killing me,” He smirked and then laughed as she hit his shoulder. 

“Fuck off! Why are we doing this again?” She looked up at the sky that cracked before her, grey clouds mushing together.

“Because dancing in the rain is on my bucket list,” He twirled her around, pulling her close when she fumbled out of the turn. 

“Okay, what does that have to do with me? You’re telling me all your years before we met you couldn’t have gone outside and danced?” She grimaced as she felt drops of water against her skin. 

“Maybe I was waiting for the perfect person to do it with?” A hand wrapped around her waist and she chuckled. 

“Perfect? I am far from perfect,” They met each other’s stare and she got butterflies just seeing that look in his eye. 

“Well, then this is perfect,” The rain started to beat against the cement below them. “You and me, here right now, together. It’s perfect.”

Lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t hear anybody approach until they called her name. Y/N turned her head a little too fast, scared that she would be caught, there would be a giant scene, and then she would lose her chance at-

At what exactly? She didn’t know either.

“That’s really you, isn’t it?”

Hercules always was so welcoming, she never felt out of place when she was around him. In fact, he actually had a small smile on now, dressed nicely in his, most likely own, tailored suit. 

“Hey, Herc,” Y/N gripped her own arm, unsure if it was appropriate to go in for a hug. “You look nice.”

“Thank you, I made it myself.” He chuckled and opened his arms, allowing her to view his form. He looked just the same as she had seen him almost two years ago. 

“It’s definitely you! Did that business of yours ever hit it off with the investors?” Maybe she was aiming for small talk in hope of a distraction, she wasn’t ready for the obvious to be out in the open just yet. 

“No, but I’m working with something better. Got a lot of new line ups, good people to work with…” Hercules  trailed off with a fond smile on his face. 

“I’m really happy for you, Herc. You deserve it!” 

He smiled, “What about you? What have you been up to?”

Y/N winced and tried not to fidget. “Still working for the same place, I actually got a promotion a couple months ago, so I’ve been busy with that...But everything else has been...things are going well.” 

Hercules nodded, and just like a wave, tension flooded the air around them. 

Y/N refused to look up and meet his eyes, to either see full curiosity, disappointment or any other mood that would just make her feel sick to her stomach, will have her asking the same question over and over to herself. However, the silence couldn’t stay too long. 

“Y/N, what...why are you here?” 

An older woman was yelling at a worker, wanting more champagne for the bride's suite. She was aggressive, and yet the guests around her weren’t baffled at her behavior in the slightest. Y/N hated entitlement, hated more when the rich forgot that other people aren’t as fortunate enough as them. 

Y/N also hated that Hercules was still staring at her while she was wondering if her own mother would be so stressed as to the point of lashing out at others. 

“How long have they been engaged?” She finds herself asking only to quiet her thoughts of if they were stuck in one place and never seemed to want more. 

“Eight months,” Hercules sighed, never being one to push and always being honest. “Eliza’s sweet, she has a good heart. She’s loyal-”

Ouch.

“And she makes him happy.”

“Do you think we were ever… not happy?” Her eyes finally met his, instantly going soft and trying to word his answer carefully, even though Y/N could see a straight answer on his face. 

“I think...you guys worked around each other well. I think you enjoyed each other’s company, and maybe you might have been in love once, but that’s in the past. Right now, over a hundred people are going to celebrate what’s best for him and Eliza…”

He’s not marrying you, he’s not with you. 

It was something unspoken, but Y/N knew that was what Hercules was trying to get at, letting her know that her presence was unwelcome and that this was for the best. 

Why was she here? Why did she think that today would be the day to confess her feelings that never drifted away? Why was she so selfish, and think that her happiness was more important than-

Someone approaches them rather quickly, and it makes her turn and brace for an attack. 

Instead, it’s just John. 

“What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here, you weren’t invited!” He was loud and he was causing a scene, something Y/N definitely did not want. He actually looked like he was about to jump her, but before he could move any closer Hercules puts his arm on John’s chest to block him. 

“Relax, John,” Hercules looked back at her with a pointed look. “Y/N was just leaving.”

There was a pause, and she almost believed that yes, she was leaving. This was her cue, no one wanted her here, she wasn’t supposed to be here. Who is she to ruin a wedding? How could she do something so terrible?

“You should move in,” He ran his hand over her back, listening to her slow breaths. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. It’d be nice, having you here all the time?” He knew she was drifting off and probably wasn’t even registering what he was saying. He was proven wrong when she raised her head to look at him in the dark light. 

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt seeing you all day,” Y/N smirked as he nudged her with his leg. She kissed his chest and smiled down at him. “If I move in, there’s no turning back. Rent is too high for me to be switching back and forth.”

“I couldn’t think of anywhere else I'd want you to be.”

Y/N gave him a curt nod, walking backwards a bit before fully turning around. She walked all the way pass the church, passed the parking lot, all the way down to the end of the lake. She was out of sight. 

But there was no way she was leaving. There was no way she was going to give up her last chance. 

Even from where she stood, she could hear the beats of the traditional wedding music pick up, cheers from the crowd pick up as everyone hustled inside. 

Her feet moved before she could even make a decision. 

There was an elderly couple just walking into the room, and luckily the man held the door open for her. She thanked him and took the grand venue in. On each bench there was a bouquet of flowers, a white row leading up to the altar. It was packed, and Y/N could only imagine how many people she was about to shock. 

She sat in an empty aisle seat in the back, and finally realized that Eliza was just reaching the top of the stairs, kissing her fathers cheek before he gave her over to him. 

“Should I get a haircut?”

“No. I like it the way it is. You have nice hair, it’s soft and always so full. Why would you want to chop it off?” She caressed said hair. 

“Eh, it’s too long. I think it’s a hassle to work with when I’m getting ready for work. I don’t know…” He looked in the mirror with a pained face. She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest, leaning her cheek on his back. 

“Well, personally, I like it. But it is your hair. You know I’d love you either way.”

“Are you just being biased?” 

“Mmh, well, I can’t say I don’t like having something to pull on.” She tugged and he whimpered before turning and kissing her, a full grin on his face. 

He looked just like Y/N imagined him. In fact he hasn’t changed, except maybe the circles under his eyes got a bit darker. His hair was neatly wrapped in a ponytail behind his head, sharp tux on, a smile on his face.

Except none of that was for Y/N, it was for another woman. 

Swallowing back the lump in her throat she cleared her throat, tapping her foot nervously as the officiant started speaking. 

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the love of Alexander and Elizabeth.”

“Stop being such a poor sport.”

“You so cheated! You know what, it’s fine. Because I know what really happened.”

“I’ll tell you what happened: Mr. Hamilton sucks at Mario Kart!”

“You take that back!”

“Through their time together, they have realized that their goals and dreams are more meaningful through a combined effort and mutual support provided in love.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“You got promoted, Alex! You’ve come so far since we met. You work so hard, you stay late at work, you stress yourself out far too much for my liking. But you got exactly where you wanted to be! And from here you can only go up! I’m proud of you!”

He smiled, kissing her knuckles and thanking her. 

“As we create this marriage, we create a new bond and a new sense of family.”

“I hope our kids have your eyes.”

“If we’re thinking about children, I have no problem shoving them right back if they don’t look exactly like you.”

“Alex, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m just saying. Your eyes, your nose, I even want them to be as witty as you.”

“I hope they don’t have your sense of style.”

“Hey!”

“Now, before we begin the vows, if anyone can show just cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony-”

“You’re acting crazy!”

“No, I’m acting reasonable! You can’t seriously think that you were just going to let this go?”

“Where are we going, Y/N? We’re stuck in this one spot, and I can’t do it anymore!”

“Then don’t!”

“Let them speak now, or forever hold their peace.”

“I think I’m falling in love with you…” She wiped the tears from her eyes as he held her closely to his chest. “And I’m terrified.”

Y/N stands without letting herself have any more doubts. 

Almost immediately, attention is drawn. There are gasps in the crowd, one woman even let out a horrid yell. The man sitting a couple feet away even scoffs, like Y/N’s idea was ridiculous. It’s enough commotion that causes the bride and groom to look her way. 

Warmth filled her as his brown eyes connected with hers. 

It went in flashes, Alexander’s emotions. First he was a bit confused, almost as to why their loved ones were making such noise. Then, it was anger, finally realizing that it was because someone was objecting to his wedding. And as their eyes connected, it was like he was sad. 

Maybe it was because he hasn’t seen her since she walked out. Maybe it was because she was ruining his special day. Maybe it was because he knew she lost her chance years ago, and that even he knew it was too late. 

Maybe it was because he knew the outcome of this. 

Y/N took a shuddering breath, before saying the three words that could easily crush the hearts of everyone in this room. But she ignored the appalled crowd, she ignored the angry face of John right next to Alex, she didn’t even want to see how broken Eliza must look right now. 

Instead, she focused on the very small quirk of Alexander’s lips, the small chance of hope that was promised. 

[lifewithchronicpain-original]

Long post ahead, but I need to address this so I can move on.

Over ten years ago, I was really into atheism and debating theology on an atheist forum, and became popular as their first female member and eventually rose to moderator then administrator, setting up a lot of rules that they still have up posted in my username. I always find that funny.

I felt like I had met a great group of people with leftist politics and all that. I felt special because I was basically their token female until the forum gained more popularity. And then the owner added a kudos system to rate someone’s popularity and I was given many kudos for being able to argue against religion, mostly Christianity, so well and I even met up with the owner at Dragon*con one year.

Then a thread got into the topic of sexual objectification and this spiraled into an unpleasant discussion about rape culture. The same men I thought who appreciated what I had to say just didn’t listen anymore and I was viewed as being ridiculous. One was so offended he started putting typical MRA jokes in his signature. Also the guy I met decided he was now libertarian and whole heartedly believed regulation caused the 08’ crash. :/ I remember another guy on Facebook from my local atheist group agreeing with those men when I brought it up; and then said “oh come on, I’m an atheist, you know I’m not sexist!”

I was now facing the fact that this group of people I had enjoyed spending my time with online for about two years might praise me now, but when I would tread into territory that could make men face how they treat women, I was shut down and told a woman in a mini skirt is Just like a rich man with a visible wad of $100s in his back pocket. I was quickly understanding for the first time why there aren’t more women and POC in these “new atheist” groups. They thought their lack of religion immunized them because they blamed religion for racism and sexism. Conveniently ignoring they also believe religion was created by men and thus promoting their already established views of women and other races. Funny that.

At the same time (we had a few women on board but they were avoiding that conversation) a woman joined and spoke up. They ripped into her. I had the comfy cushion of my status, she had none. She was given all the negative kudos and when I talked to her privately I found out she was also a survivor.

I was facing so many arguments I knew were wrong but couldn’t fully articulate. That’s when I discovered what rape culture, as well as the Just world theory. That’s when I changed from becoming a feminist in label to a feminist in deeds and thoughts. I learned the responses to their arguments and then I learned I also don’t want to waste another minute on these men. I posted my goodbye explaining their responses have caused a lack of trust I can never get past because they refuse to even see how their so-called reason left the room when they started dealing with sexism.

The only man who defended me was the lone Christian who for some reason liked hanging out there. There was also a trans women there, she was very happy to agree with the men’s victim blaming and I never understood that. But it also taught me you can’t expect to know someone’s full politics just because you happen to agree or disagree on the issue of god, or really on anything.

I learned that belonging to a group of people on the surface doesn’t mean we’re all lock-step in ageeememt over every issue. I learned I can’t trust anyone who treats relationships and sex as something they deserve and not something you enter with mutual respect for boundaries. I’m not denying it hurts to be rejected and people can be rejected on prejudicial biases, but it’s still a situation that requires mutual consent and you can’t force that on people by calling them bigots. Shaming a woman into having sex with you because otherwise you’ll call her out, is essentially forced consent which is rape. I can’t say it plainer than that.

My consistent insistence that a woman’s boundaries are to be respected, that our sex lives are not political statements to be commented on, and that lesbians owe no one anything has ruffled a lot of feathers.’A lot of people don’t like that. I have seen this from MRA’s to variois online factions of bisexual and trans people (And to be very clear, not all, I don’t like painting a group with one brush) acting like lesbians not sleeping with them is an act of cruelty, a prejudice that must be corrected. In other words, “how dare you not let me get off this is a violation of my civil rights! Lesbians must be so privileged for dating other lesbians!” It’s really fucked up and everywhere on this site. And no, trying to dress it up in woke language like “you should really examine why you don’t like penises” isn’t better. Rather it betrays an obsession with getting penises into lesbians. Not all trans women have one, but that’s too pesky a detail when you’re obsessed with getting dick into a lesbian. And trust me as a lesbian, this is an obsession many people have.

I am seeing the same things that played out before playing out time and again in online spaces, where there’s little cost to being an asshole. People decided an issue is pivotal to their identity or whatever, and do everything they can to “other” people who don’t agree. They use their online social capital to try to shame people. They knowingly post call outs to attack decent people they just don’t agree with. If they can’t chase someone off the platform they’ll make it hell for that person if as much as they can. And they will resort to nasty sexist slurs because to these people nothing is worse than woman with a mind of her own. I’m no longer 25, I don’t seek the approval I used to, I can deal with online anxieties by not engaging. I know to block people and turn off anon. It hurts to be targeted for sure, but ten years later people trying to slander me online is more like water to a duck. But I’m not everyone and ten years ago this kind of online drama could be a suicide inducing event. But they don’t care.

I’m gonna let you in on a secret, the majority of political disagreements are not worth burning down the house and destroying every relationship over. Not only will you have no true friends, you will never challenge your beliefs, your beliefs will stagnate and you will never grow, never learn.

People might read this and assume that because I don’t think sex with a lesbian is a civil right that I must hate trans women. I don’t, that’s not who I am. I know what it’s like to question my gender, I suffer from mild disphoria. I can’t imagine what severe dysphoria is like and I don’t presume to assume what is right for everyone suffering from this. It is terrible, and no one deserves to be treated like shit for it. But that also doesn’t give some people (I emphasize, this is not every trans person’s doing) the right to attack women for talking about sexism, their vagina, pregnancy, or being a lesbian. I couldn’t give a rats ass if a lesbian and trans women get together, I have no right to judge or police that, but it’s okay to police lesbians? That’s fucked up, and let’s not pretend the same standard is applied to gay men, because it 100% is not.

Everyone, no matter the gender, is susceptible to sexism. Calling that out is not me saying I hate trans women, or I want to fight against trans advocacy or anything like that. I just want to talk about sexism and how it affects me as a female lesbian woman. No matter how hard you try, you can’t ID your way out of sexism, just like I, as a white person, cannot ID myself out of the racial bias I was taught from birth. These things are no different to me and has no bearing on me respecting pronouns and promoting issues of trans disability on this blog.

This one issue has painted me as a TERF, when my radical feminism (which I’ve never 100% agree with, one example is bathrooms, just let people pee! When people start monitoring bathrooms I get questioned because I’m GNC) has never been about misgendering and denying the painful realities of dysphoria. I believe and trust we can better understand transmisogyny when we better understand traditional misogyny. If one gender wasn’t so overwhelmingly oppressed I can’t imagine people would have such a knee jerk hateful reaction to trans people. I might think male socialization is a thing, but unlike other people, I don’t attack trans women for our disagreement on this one point. I’ll never make a call out post because I couldn’t make a trans women say what I wanted. I will never ever call anyone a slur either, while I’ve been called a bitch and cunt.

This blog is about disability. All I care about is promoting disability justice, information, and social support. I will always be open to discussing disability as it effects any minority group: POC, female, poor, trans, gay, etc... I’m more than happy to reblog posts regarding trans disability especially with regards to HRT or surgery can effect that. This blog will never be about attacking people and trying to tear them down. I might disagree with people but I won’t try smear someone’s reputation because of it. In recent years I have striven to disagree with people without resorting to insults and assumptions. I’m not perfect but I try.

I have talked before how there are zealous aspects to all groups. You won’t have me denying that radfems can be just as nasty. I condemn any radfem who has treated anyone the way I’m being treated right now. I personally don’t believe that because one trans women did something wrong that it’s okay to misgender all trans women. I am not like that. I’m not so bitter and hateful that I can’t separate one group of assholes from a minority group.

I’ve always been about being the better person, not for the people you hate but for yourself. Holding on to all this hate and negativity, attacking women for daring to state their mind, encouraging people to attack that person, that must be aweful. I can’t, and I won’t be like that. My own mental health couldn’t take it when I did participate in some of these behaviors on my early tumblr experience. Then I realized it was tearing me apart, and that the person on the other end is a human too. I don’t have to like them, but I can respect they have feelings and a world view that wasn’t built just to attack me.

Whether or not you agree with me on a lesbian’s right to bodily autonomy, does that really warrant a response meant to tear a disabled woman down? Are the only people entitled to their own opinions the ones that agree with you?

This matter truly is about sexism whether you believe it or not. I do not actively discuss trans issues on any of my blog. I was targeted for guilt by association (because I can’t follow people I don’t 100% agree with I guess) on main and when asked I said I got nothing against trans women I do have problems with rhetoric that treats sex with a lesbian as a civil right. I was then called out. That is exactly what happened and why I had to shut down questioning and take a break.

This post is to let you all know, I’m back, I’m okay, and this blog will continue with its mission to support disabled people. If you think a disabled women like me who only ever wants to help others, deserves this, then please unfollow. I don’t care how many people follow, I care that the people who do, want to follow me. If you’re a trans woman uncertain if you can bring an issue to me, of course you can. I’m not here to judge anyone, I’m here to give whatever disability advice and support that I can.

So yeah if you can’t understand that disagreements don’t warrant tearing down a person, especially someone who is disabled and has mentioned suicide attempts, then I can’t help you and the unfollow button is right there. If you do or don’t agree with me but think it was fucked up to get called out for, welcome. This blog will return to disability issues and this is the last I’ll be addressing this issue. I’m just going to delete and block people who think calling a disabled woman a cunt is top notch activism. You will not ruin what I’ve built here. You will not cower me. This bitch has been through too much to let anonymous trolls take me down.

Much love to all those who have supported me, it has meant a lot. 💕

[anagentinwriting]

Subscribe - Final Part

Summary: (Modern AU) Peter was your college sweetheart until a certain event led to your break up. Seven years later another event brings you two back together, but this time a little girl is in the picture. Will listening to your podcasts be the reason you two get back together or be another reason to keep you apart?

Pairing: Peter Quill x Reader

Word Count: 3790

Warnings: Angst, fluff, swearing

Subscribe Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Peter stepped into Walkman Records feeling good. His head was clear instead of in the throbbing cloudiness it was the previous day. It felt like it was going to be a good day. Sure, it was almost noon, and he had to be at Mer’s parent-teacher conferences in an hour, but he was ready for it. 

“Good afternoon, Peter. You’re looking sober today,” Mants grinned as Peter collected his mail from his cubby. 

“Ahh yeah,” he nodded at her with a half smirk. Mantis was someone who wasn't afraid to state the obvious, and it's one of the reasons he hired her. He made his way to his office to find Bucky lifting Nat in the air, smiling up at her. “Oh joy, it must be nice being in a healthy relationship. Thanks for rubbing it in.”

“Do you want to tell him or should I?” Bucky asked, gazing at Nat. She nodded at him to continue with a contagious smile on her face. "We're pregnant.”

“Wow, that's ahhh...I don't...congratulations you two,” Peter stated with wide eyes and a half smile. “Didn’t even know you two were trying? I’m happy for you both.”

“Then, why don’t you look happy for us?”

“It’s just you two are moving on with your life, and I'm kind of stuck here.” Peter shrugged, motioning around the room. 

“Come on, man.” Bucky squeezed his shoulder. “We wouldn’t leave you behind…you were our first child.”

“I appreciate it,” Peter scoffed, rolling his eyes. ��I am really happy for you two though. It will be nice to have another mascot running around here and wreaking havoc.” 

“Peter, I--” Nat stammered “--I went to see YN yesterday.”

“What? Why?” He dropped the mail on his desk, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Someone needed to tell her about Bereet, and given your track record, you would've waited another seven years,” Nat confessed, forcing Peter to scoff. 

“Why would you do that? I was gonna talk to her, and now you ruined it.”

“Before or after she moved to New York.”

“What...what are you talking about?”

“YN got a promotion to run the new Potts of Honey facility in New York. Why do you think she went there in the first place? To check out the sights?”

“No, no no.” Peter shook his head. “She would’ve told me this.” He stared hard at the floor in defeat. “Do you know when she leaves? Is she taking Mer with her?”

“Better question, why haven't you told her how you feel?"

“Tell her? She fucking hates me.”

“Are you sure it’s hate? Last I heard you said she loves you.” Peter grunted, shaking his head. “Are you going to let her getaway for the 3rd time, or are you going to chase her down?”

“Shut up.” Peter stood there with his eyes moving back and forth, clenching and unclenching his jaw, trying to figure out what to do. “Son of a bitch,” he cursed, running out of the room with his phone in his hand. 

“You had to go that far to say she was moving?”

“Lit a match under his ass, didn’t it.”

“It did,” Bucky smirked. "We’re going to make such great parents.”

_________

Everything was set up for this week’s podcast. Pepper was ready to share the exciting news about the expansion of Potts of Honey and the new product lines hitting shelves within the next couple weeks. 

“Okay, Darcey, whatever you do. Do not let anyone in the room while we are recording because I hate editing these podcasts. It takes forever.” She nodded. “If you have any questions at all, use the whiteboard.”

“Got it, boss.”

“Great, I will be with you in here until...” Your phone ringing interrupted you. You peeked at the screen, seeing Peter’s name and hit ignore. “...until I get summoned in.” He was on his way to Mers parent-teacher conferences for the first time, and he was either worried or didn’t know what to do. 

“You got it, dude.”

“Good,” you replied as Pepper and Wanda walked in. “Ready ladies?”

“Born ready,” Wanda smirked, taking her usual chair in the booth.

“Are you sure about your decision?” Pepper asked you before walking into the booth.

“Yes, I am,” you smiled. “You're more than welcome to announce it over the podcast.”

“Excellent,” she pulled you into a tight hug.

“We will be recording in 5, 4, 3,” you said as you mouthed 2, 1, and pointed at Wanda. You pushed the button to signal the red on-air light above the door outside, so no one would disturb your production. 

“Hello, my wonderful listeners. Welcome back to another episode of Everyday’s a Monday. You are all in for a treat today! We are speaking with my boss, the lovely Pepper Potts hyphen Stark. She's speaking about the future of Potts and Honey and new products being released in the coming weeks. Later, YN will be joining us after not saying a word on here for about two episodes now. I have a conspiracy theory about how she might’ve paid our guests to not get her to come on the show. She's shaking her head no, but I know the truth,” she chuckled, getting Pepper crack a smile. “Turns out we also have our new intern, Darcey, helping out in the recording booth. This means YN has no choice but to join us today. But first, play that awesome intro.”

You hit the button to signal the short upbeat catchy tune that plays at the beginning of each podcast. It was a little redundant, but it kept things fun. It also made Everyday’s a Monday stand out and be more recognizable like any opening to your favorite tv show. 

“Pepper, it is great to have you back on the show.”

“It’s always fun coming on here and talking with you both.”

“The boss said both, so YN get your ass in here,” Wanda waved you in, and you stepped into the booth.

“You just had to say the magic word, didn’t you, Pepper?” You spoke into your mic and slid your headphones over your ears. You sat in your usual spot right across from Wanda with your back to the door while Pepper sat at the end of the rectangle table.

“Couldn’t help myself,” she laughed. 

_______

Parent-teacher conferences went off without a hitch. He gave Mer a few fist bumps as the teacher praised her for how well she was doing in her classes. There was one teacher, who didn’t like how she spoke up in class, but Peter ignored him by nodding along and acting like he was listening. Mer had to nudge him a few times because he zoned out during this teacher's rant. Overall, the teachers love Mer and how open she is to learning. With it being conferences, Mer was able to leave school early for the day, and after telling Mer about his plan, he knew exactly what he needed to do. 

Peter walked through the rotating doors of the Potts of Honey headquarters building with Meredith in tow. It was crazy how many buildings were on the grounds, but he assumed they all had a specific purpose. They walked up to the welcome desk seeing three receptionists typing away on their computers.

“Hi, Peter and Meredith Quill here to see YN LN,” Peter said to the lady with blonde hair.

“I’m sorry, sir, but she is unavailable at the moment. I can take a message for her if you’d like.”

“Look--” he reads her nametag “--Sharon, it will take like ten minutes tops.” 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you go up without her approval.” Peter nodded, thanking her for her help, and turned around to leave. 

“Hey, Quill.” Peter looked over, seeing Drax waving at him.

“Drax, hey, buddy. I haven’t seen you since you worked security at the Howling Commandos concert.”

“Wild night,” he chuckled.

“This is my daughter Meredith.” 

“I know her too well.” Drax held up his hand, giving her a high five. “What brings you here?”

“I need to get up to see YN.”

“Desk lady, I am taking Quill and his daughter on a tour. Give me two badges.” Sharon rolled her eyes, handing them over to him. “This way. Follow me.”

________

“What is this big exciting news you are bouncing up and down to share with us, Pepper?” Wanda questioned, wearing a huge smile on her face. She already knew the news, but she was good at faking enthusiasm when she needed to. 

“Yes, well, very recently I sent these two lovely ladies, YN and Wanda, to New York City to scope out properties, and I am happy to announce we will be opening up a new Potts of Honey facility in New York,” Pepper informed while you and Wanda cheered. “And I have more news. YN here will be taking over the Malibu division while I will be heading to New York division. But don’t worry, this podcast will still be airing an episode weekly.”

“Whew, I thought I was out of a job for a second,” Wanda wheezed, wiping her forehead. 

“If only,” you chuckled, earning a glare from Wanda before everyone started laughing.

“At least this way, YN has the option to be with Star-Lord.”

“I’m ignoring that for now,” you sighed. “What is going to be different about this facility?”

“It won’t be much different than the one here in Malibu. I pride myself on putting family first and jobs second. It has been my mentality from the beginning, and I don't plan on changing it.  I want to hire parents to be or parents who want to return to work after taking a leave to take care of their youngsters. I love working with these types of individuals because they have opinions and know what type of products parents want to see on the market.” 

“I still love that mentality to this day,” Wanda confessed. “Like many times before, we did take some questions from the listeners, and we are going to be answering some right now. Many listeners might not have known about the new facility, but some did ponder it. Let’s begin with….”

________

Drax, Peter, and Meredith stepped off the elevator on the top floor of the building. It wasn’t a high building, but the twelfth floor still offered a great view of the grounds. Peter’s mind was running a mile a minute, and he still didn’t know what he was going to say to you. He had a plan, but it was only 12% of a plan which involved convincing you not to leave. He needed you in his life, and he hoped you still needed him, too.

“My dad is going to make a grand gesture to my mom,” Mer told Drax with a cheeky smile. 

“Really? Do you think he has a chance?”

“Will you two be quiet? I’m right here.” He glanced behind him as they continued to walk down the long hall. 

“We know. Why do you think we are talking so loud,” Drax stated, earning a giggle out of Meredith. 

“I was hoping my plan would work. I have been trying to parent trap them like Lindsay Lohan did in that movie before she kind of went crazy.”

“You are one smart girl, Mer, and I’m positive your plan will work,” Drax winked, making an excited smile appear on Mer’s face. “I mean, it worked for Lindsay Lohan, but then she went crazy. I still often wonder what happened to her twin.”

Mer looked at Peter with a confused expression, forcing him to let a raspy chuckle escaped him. “Drax, she doesn’t have a--” Drax stared at him with an intense glare forcing Peter to bite his tongue “--never mind.” Peter shook his head, seeing a door at the end of the hallway with an ON-AIR sign shining above it. “Is this the right door?” Drax nodded as Peter knocked on the door.

“Can I help you security guy, adorable little girl, and the other dude?” The young lady asked, eyeing each of them over as she opened the door.

“Quill here needs to speak to his woman.” Drax patted him on one of his shoulders. 

“Dude. Ow.”

“Sorry, but you can’t come in. They’re recording an episode, and YN hates editing, so it’s better if left undisturbed, okay? Buh-bye, thank you, come back later.”

“Wait!” Peter grabbed the door to keep it from closing. “It’s okay; I’m Star-lord.”

“Who?”

“Come on, the amazing mystery dude that YN talks about on this podcast. YN’s ex, who she shares a daughter with.” 

“Hence this small human beside us,” Drax informed, motioning to a grinning Mer beside him. 

“This is my first time listening to this podcast, so I have no idea who you are. I’m only here for college credit, so no, you’re not coming in.”

“Okay fine, how about I give you.” Peter pulls out his wallet, digging around in it. “Fifty bucks?”

“Well if I get fired over this, I will be out at least $350 for my college credit, so technically I won’t be out anything if you reimbursed me in full.”

Peter sighed, looking unamused but gave in to her demands. He dug through his wallet once more and handed her the rest of the money. 

“Come on in fellas.” 

_______

“Next question is for Wanda and YN,” Pepper announced, reading the question to herself before reading it aloud. “Oh, this is a good one. What is something you regret from your past and why?”

“Oh, this one is tough,” Wanda added, tapping her finger to her chin. “I would say I regret not traveling more when I was younger since I didn’t have many responsibilities. Now I am kind of tied down, but I still love my life and wouldn’t change a thing. Who asked this question?”

“Oh right, let’s see.” Pepper’s eyes scanned the page. “Peter Quill.”

Your head snapped in Pepper’s direction, but something moving behind you caught the attention of both your co-hosts; Wanda’s mouth dropped open, and Pepper's eyebrows shot up her forehead. You narrowed your eyes at them before turning around to find Peter Quill. Behind him, Darcey held up the whiteboard saying ‘Incoming, Star-Crunch?'

“Peter, what are you...what are you doing here? You’re not allowed to be in here. We’re in the middle of an episode.” You stood up, taking your headset off and setting them around your neck. 

“Do you want to know what I regret from my past?” 

“No, not right now, Peter. Can we do this later? I’m working.” You put your hands on his chest to try and push him out of the room, but he grabbed your forearms, stopping you. You gazed into his eyes, seeing something you haven’t seen since the night you slept with him. 

“Nat told me,” he confessed. “Please don’t move to New York.” You try to say something, but he keeps talking. “You’re in my life again, and I don’t want you to go. I wish things in the past would’ve worked out differently. If I wasn’t such a coward, maybe they would’ve, but this time I’m not gonna let you walk out on me.”

“Peter, I’m not...”

“I’m doing what I should have done a long time ago. Please just let me talk for once,” he interrupted, forcing you to snap your mouth shut. “When I got the call about you being in an accident, right then I knew I didn’t want to lose you again. I didn’t want to lose you for real. Deep down, I always thought we would find each other again,” he confessed, taking your hands into his. “Then, I found out about Meredith. The amazing sweet little girl who showed me what I was missing out on for the last 7 years.” Peter glanced behind him, and you peeked around him to see Mer wearing a toothy grin on her face. She gave him a thumbs up, and you didn’t miss the lopsided smirk spreading across Peter's face as he turned back to you.

“After you woke up, everything happened so fast. We were getting along and rocking this co-parenting thing most parents seem to struggle with. Then, I told you I never cheated, you kissed me, and we slept together. The next day, you told me it was all a mistake, but we both know that wasn’t true,” he murmured, staring into your eyes. “I hate how I hurt you all over again. We both know I have horrible timing when it comes to fixing my wrongs, but I can’t let another day go by without telling you how I feel. You were the one for me. You still are.” Your eyes widened at his confession. “Where will this big grand gesture leave us? I don’t know.

What I do hope for is that you will give me a chance to redeem myself. I want to be there for you and Mer. I want to watch her grow up into an incredible young woman, like you, with you by my side. I want to help you protect her from assholes who will break her heart, but still encourage her to find love and happiness. Even in times when you thought you were never going to get another chance. But before you know it you’re laying your heart on the line, hoping you’re not making a complete ass of yourself," he cleared his throat. “I regret many decisions in my life, but the one thing I regret most was not chasing after you the day you walked away from me. This time, I'm going to fight for you to stay because...well, I guess what I’m trying to say here is that I don’t think I ever stop loving you.”  

Pepper and Wanda gasped behind you. “Ladies and gents, this is Wanda speaking in a hushed tone. If you haven’t made the connection thus far, Peter Quill is Star-Lord aka Star-Lord is Peter Quill, just to clarify things.” You shook your head, staring at Peter’s chest as she narrated the moment through your headphones.

You squeezed his hands as you let go of one of his and placed it over his heart. His soft gaze sent a flutter to your heart and a blush to your cheeks. “Peter, I’m not going anywhere. Pepper is the one moving to New York while I’m taking things over here. Nat obviously said what she needed to to get you to barge in here,” you added, making him raise his eyebrows at the realization.

“Guess I will have to thank her later.”

“But you’re right about one thing. What happened between us wasn’t a mistake, but I still couldn’t help but think I was the other woman.” You lowered your head, letting out a deep breath. He put his hand under your chin and lifted it to stare into your eyes.

“You are the only woman,” Peter replied, making you crack a small smile.

“My biggest regret was not telling you about Meredith sooner. I guess it was my own selfish pride that I wanted to prove to myself that I didn’t need you in my life. Truth is, I did, and so did Mer. I didn’t want to see it for myself, but watching you two together warms my heart. I wish I could say I fell out of love with you, but I never did.” You slid your hand from his heart to cup his cheek, and Peter leaned into your touch. He bit down on his bottom lip as he leaned in closer to you feeling his breath become shaky against your lips. He gazed into your eyes before his lips collided with yours.

“Woooo! Their smacking lips now! Get it, girl,” Wanda hollered from her chair as Pepper joined in with her. 

“Bought fricken time, am I right, Mer?”

“Yes, you are Auntie Wanda,” Mer replied through your headphones. You didn’t even notice her sneak pass you and Peter. 

“Guess all those parent trapping tricks I taught you paid off,” Wanda added, giving Mer a high-five. You pulled away from Peter, resting your forehead against his smiling. “I bet they’re going to get married, now. Would you like that, Mer?”

“Yes, I would love it,” she gushed beside Wanda.

“Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, you two.” You glared at them, feeling Peter's chest vibrate from a soft chuckle. “We should at least go out on a not a date date first.”

“Hear that folks, it’s happening. It’s like their first not a date date all over again. Did I predict this or what?” Wanda grinned into her headset.

You looked back at Peter as he shot you a quick wink and your favorite boyish smile.  It was the same little sexy smile that drove you crazy all those years ago. You smiled at him, resting your forehead on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. You heard him let out a deep breath, and in your heart, you knew he was always the one for you, and like many great loves, you fell in love with your best friend. 

“How about we close out this episode,” Pepper offered.

“Thanks for the assist, Pepper. Come on, Twig. Let's get out of here.” Peter loosened his grip on you and held out his hand for Mer. She grinned, rushing towards him, and Peter leaned down and scooped her up in his arms. You couldn’t stop the heartfelt smile from appearing on your face. Peter grabbed hold of your hand with his other hand as he leaned over to kiss your forehead. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling the warmth spread all over your body. When you opened your eyes, you found Peter giving Mer a quick kiss on the forehead, and without saying a word, you knew exactly what he meant. 

“Awww, what a cute family,” Wanda commented, snapping a photo with her phone. “This picture is going on our Instagram page, so be on the lookout listeners.”

“And I thought Tony had terrible timing,” Pepper declared with a knowing grin.

“I don’t think we have any more to discuss on this week’s episode, but wasn’t it a great one.  We found out Potts of Honey is expanding, Star-Lord’s real identity is none other than Walkman Records owner Peter Quill, and Pepper Potts is going to be leaving us. It’s a sad yet happy day. I’m only hoping this whole episode recorded everything and that YN doesn’t edit anything out, but let’s be real folks she never edits,” Wanda chuckled. “Don’t forget to tip your waiters and waitresses. And as always, don’t forget to subscribe.” 

_______

AN: That's all folks. How bout that ending though? The podcast restarted their relationship, so I thought ending with one would be neat. It also might've felt rushed towards the end, but I kind of liked how it turned out. Like, rushing to someone you love in an airport or wherever else you might be. Cleshay, but the rush of excitement at the same time...haha. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I liked writing it. Glad you stuck with me through the end. Comments are always welcome and as always thanks for reading!

[r3albeatergang]

I must have been five years old the first time I discovered pro wrestling. My earliest memories were asking my mother to let me stay up late enough to watch Thursday Night SmackDown on UPN. In a tiny piece of section 8 in the middle of West Bronx. I think it had to due with a mutual love for superheroes as a child. For two hours once every week, I got to see wars of superheroes live in my shared bedroom. It was a nice escape for a kid to have. Bad guy cheats, good guy wins. Everyone loves the hero. Everyone hates the villain. Simple enough for a five year old to understand.

My first favorite wrestler was Goldberg. Even if you never saw the stuff, you knew Goldberg was the prototypical wrestler imagined in your head. Staggering. Juiced to gills. Tribal tats and all black spandex. Screaming and sweating his bald ass off into a microphone. You saw this guy walking down a street, you know what the fuck he does for a living.

A little while after my introduction to SmackDown, I picked up on enough to know who was who and what was what. Why heels were violent. Why babyfaces put so much on the line every week. My new favorites tended to be smaller wrestlers that could make me laugh or get an ooh outta me from their Cirque de Soleil acts. Booker T. Rob Van Dam. Eddie Guerrero. Chris Jericho. These were the ones I felt could be a bit more relatable to someone standing 3 feet tall. I could tell most of them would be Marvel guys because they never shut up. Always had some catchphrase to hock on a t-shirt. Vivid costumes,  music blaring through the CRT speakers, Mortal Kombat-style finishing move. How couldn’t I love this?

I moved from project housing to the suburbs of North Carolina when I was seven. Culture shock wasn’t big enough a word to describe my life. Too much adjustment to new circumstances meant I couldn’t keep up with wrestling world anymore. So it fell out. I heard kids on the metal slides of recess talk up a big game about John Cena but I was too out of orbit with the rest of the world to keep up on anything outside my new home.

I remember what brought me back into that orbit. I got off the bus from an exhausting day of fifth grade. I check into my family’s mail sitting next to our apartment’s front door. A catalog ad for junk television shows and movies new to HBO. Then I see it. Royal Rumble 2008. A 30-Man Free for All! Long story short, I was crash landing on wrestle world and I had no intention of leaving.

Four years later, I was in deep on mark life. 10th grade wrestling encyclopedia. Could tell you the history of the WWF, WCW, ECW, Total Non-stop Action, Ring of Honor, WrestleMania, Starrcade, CM Punk, Bryan Danielson, I was in deep. But to be honest with you, I was getting so bored of WWE by this point of my life. Following stories didn’t reward me. My favorites would do nothing of interest. Title matches were meaningless. Worst thing? It didn’t feel cool anymore. It was never cool, but more in that nerd cool. Like Toonami or cape movies. But now my wrestling didn’t have either. It was just this three hour addiction to mediocre fights featuring guys that didn’t give a shit anymore. I had my eye on other promotions across the States and worldwide but nothing was the same.

Fast forward to two months ago. I’m twenty-three at this point. Shackled in quarantine during the worst plague of a lifetime with my girlfriend by my side and my studies behind me. Nowhere is safe. Lockdown meant stay home and find some new way to entertain myself. I went through every comic I owned, half my video games, binged all five series worth a damn on Netflix until I decided....”Shit. I haven’t seen a match in forever.” An insight into New Japan Pro was the single spark I needed to get back deeper in the hole than I ever had been. Now I learning the history of puroresu from Rikidozan to Kazuchika Okada’s five time IWGP title reigns. I could sit through 70 minute matches commentated in a language I don’t speak a bit of like it ain’t shit. For the first time though, I knew I wasn’t looking at this like comic books. I was a 20something dork watching wrestling and analyzing that shit like it’s film school. It is.  Maybe that’s why I’m obsessed. Maybe this stuff is theatre for proletariat. I’m not that quite far up my own ass, give It another year. Maybe Shakespeare was wrestling before it was Shakespeare. In an age where a Tarantino can riff on tropes for Westerns and get auteur praise, I’m never sure why wrestling can’t do the same. Maybe when we’ve collapsed into a post-plague apocalypse we’ll look at ancient Youtube clips of Bret Hart vs Stone Cold and wonder how a society that sophisticated fell so far into abyss. 

In conclusion: there’s a straight line between Chekov and Curry Man vs Shark Boy.