#excuse me while I fucking cry in the corner--

[pinkyjulien]

🟨 Negative Traits Tag Game

Tagged by @kittenchrissy and @elvenbeard THANK YOU! 💛

▶ RULES: bold what always or almost always applies, italicize occasional or situational, strikethrough never applies.

aggressive | arrogant | authoritarian | bitter | brutal | callous | cannibal | careless | cold/cold-hearted | compulsive | controlling | corrects others constantly | cowardly | critical | cruel | demanding | disillusioned | domineering | envious | emotionally stunted | greedy | grim | guarded | hard | harsh | hypocritical | impatient | impolite | intimidating | irritable | kidnapper | lazy | liar | lustful | materialistic | mean | merciless | messianic | mistrusting | narrow-minded | obsessive | opinionated | overbearing | over-critical | over-emotional | over-thinking | patronizing | proud | remote | repressed | rigid | rules with an iron fist | ruthless | sarcastic | self-righteous | self-indulgent | taciturn | torturer | touchy | traitorous | unsympathetic | unpredictable | uptight | vain | vengeful

Valentin can also be reaaally stubborn and jealous at time!

He's a sensible boy, often dealing with mood swings; you could talk with the usual bubbly, sunny Val' in the morning and get hit with a brooding, cold gaze in the after-noon, all because he overheard some gonks talking about his past as a wraith, or because he couldn't figure out what wasn't working earlier during his shift.

Everyone knows that Valentin's filters totally vanish when drunk, but his lack of tact can be noticeable during certain sobber conversations- he can be clumsy with his words, and hurt people unintentionally.

He does not forget, nor forgive; he holds grudges passively, not letting it ruin his life more than it already did in the past, but bringing up those subjects can make Valentin spiral down in his own memories for some time until he brooms them back where they came from.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

▶ TAGGING: @arcandoria - @a-pirate - @dreamskug - @nw-art - @lokiina - @saevus-brutalis and anyone who'd want to do it! I know a lot of y'all already been tagged 🤏

[ofkilljoysandslytherins]

Gale angst hours, but it's just that sad face he makes with Greensleeves playing on a loop

[impossibleheartflower]

Chucky season 2 ep 6 spoilers

As soon as 'good chucky' said "hey do I know you?" To Andy I knew he would do something fucked up but my god was not expecting that holy shit

[rosicheeks]

Blowjob video if it’s the real cock :) . Pleaseee

BRO I WISH

[another-emotional-wreck]

i'm literally going to scream

[loveinhawkins]

It’s the last period of the day, and in his peripheral vision, Steve can see Eddie Munson fighting sleep, elbow repeatedly slipping off his desk.

They’re not usually in this class together; a good handful of teachers are on a ‘field trip’—which had been sold to the principal as an educational experience, but was really an excuse for both students and staff to while away the last remaining days of the semester.

So most classes have become an assortment of students who haven’t gone on the trip, odds and ends who usually wouldn’t cross paths.

When Steve had entered, he saw that the room was sparse, people dotted about the place with no regard to a seating plan—he’d headed straight for a desk by the window, hadn’t even noticed that Eddie Munson was in the seat right beside him until he’d already sat down.

And then it turned out he couldn’t even reap the benefits of choosing a seat near said window. The room was stuffy, unbearably so, and Eddie had beaten Steve to it, actually raising his hand and asking, perfectly politely, if he could open the window.

But the substitute teacher had just sneered and replied haughtily, “No, Munson, you cannot.”

Condescending ass, Steve had thought, and he was almost looking forward to one of Eddie Munson’s infamous diatribes.

But Eddie just wilted in his seat and didn’t say another word.

That’s when Steve noticed that he kept looking down at his desk. There was a piece of paper on there, an end of year test—Steve recognised Mrs O’Donnell’s handwriting making comments in the margins. The top right hand corner was folded over in such a way that just made the hiding of the grade all the more obvious: it was clearly an abject fail.

As Eddie stared at the paper, he started to blink rapidly, and for a horrible moment it seemed like he was going to cry, so Steve quickly looked away.

By the time he dared to look back, it was a quarter of the way through the period, and the heat of the room must’ve been getting to Eddie, his eyelids fluttering as he tried not to doze.

And now Steve’s stuck with a teacher who’s clearly immune to every pointed look he shoots his way. He gets to the point where he’s glaring daggers at the dude—seriously, where does he get off, keeping the window closed just to prove some bullshit point about authority?

Every so often, Steve finds himself catching a paper airplane—what are they, five?—that had been heading for Eddie’s face, made by some meathead junior. Steve either swats them away or, if he’s feeling particularly pissy, crumples them up with one hand, throws them back at the junior’s head.

Eddie’s repositioned his elbow so it’s no longer in danger of slipping off the desk—eyes totally closed now, like he’s accepted defeat.

Steve is too late to catch the next paper airplane as it hits the side of Eddie’s head, and when Eddie stirs, blinking blearily at him, he says, defensively, “It wasn’t me.”

“Relax, Harrington,” Eddie says, yawning, “I know.” He unfolds the paper airplane with a tut. “No structural integrity to this thing at all. You’d give me quality.”

Steve doesn’t think of a barbed comment to reply with, because Eddie starts refolding the paper and uses it as a fan—and it’s not even for a bit or anything; Steve can tell that he’s just genuinely suffering.

Movement draws his eyes to the front of the room; he watches as the teacher makes his way to the door and leaves.

“Thank God he’s gone,” Steve mutters. He stands and lifts up the window as far as it will go, hears Eddie’s quiet sigh of relief as the fresh air comes in.

Steve glances over at the door; the paper airplane-throwing junior has gathered a little group, and it looks like they’ve locked the teacher out. There’s no footsteps or furious knocking yet, so Steve figures he’s got a bit of time.

He jumps up onto the window sill to better enjoy the breeze, stretching his legs and idly looking outside.

He just catches Eddie scoffing, the little aside he makes: “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Steve turns his head to him. “What?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitches like he’s fighting a smile. “Just… you,” he says.

And it’s said with a kind of reluctant fondness, almost like they’re friends—which is bizarre, Steve thinks, since this is definitely the longest conversation they’ve ever had.

But maybe the approaching summer break has Eddie all sentimental.

“What about me, Munson?”

Eddie gestures at him, as if to say uh, everything, but it somehow doesn’t come across as an insult.

“Just… the way you do things sometimes. Like you’re in a goddamn movie.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Dude, I’m just sitting. Anyone could do this.”

“Nah, Harrington. It’s all in the execution, y’know?”

Steve snorts. “Bull.”

“And not all of us have the hair for it.”

Steve tilts his head, drawls, “Oh, I dunno.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh like he’s been taken by surprise.

Steve turns back to the window. It’s not all that great a view, really, the sun only highlighting the dried unkempt grass around the track. Still, there’s an undefinable something to it that gives Steve pause.

Maybe it’s because graduation is right around the corner. Even just walking down the school corridors feels like a series of goodbyes.

“Hey, Harrington. You heard of mise-en-scène?”

And Steve finds himself grinning at the French accent Eddie slips into.

“Bless you,” he says, just to be annoying, though he has heard of it, remembers it from when they looked at some plays in English. Then overheard it, really, while the aspiring film students fretted over their college applications in the library, and he listened with a jealousy he didn’t care to analyse. “I’m seeing some movie shot stuff here, is all.”Steve looks over again, in time to see Eddie adopt an over-the top trailer voice. “The fallen King—”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“—looks down at what remains of his Kingdom, setting his sights on pastures new.”

A wistful edge creeps into Eddie’s voice, something separate from the theatrics—confirming Steve’s suspicions that he won’t be graduating this year, after all.

“Not exactly pastures new,” Steve says. “I, um, didn’t get into anywhere so.” He shrugs vaguely. “Gotta hold down a summer job and then… I don’t know. Not thought that far ahead yet.”

Eddie seems to consider him. “Nothing wrong with that, Harrington,” he says quietly.

“I know,” Steve replies. Because it’s true; he knows he’ll be far from the first high school graduate staying in Hawkins, working a minimum wage job all summer.

His parents had said as much. But then…

He doesn’t know how to explain that it’s the tone in which they say things rather than the things themselves that sets him on edge. That sometimes just the way they shut doors around him inexplicably prompts a feeling of nausea.

But they’re out of town for the whole summer—already left this morning, thank God. So he’s hardly going to get into all of that with Eddie Munson, of all people. Barely addresses it within himself, honestly.

“It’s just… not really what I pictured,” he says instead. “You know, like…” And maybe Eddie’s theatricality has made him a little bolder, because he looks out at the view, and slips into a brief understated impression with ease: “I'm shakin’ the dust of this crummy little town off my feet and I'm gonna see the world.”

When he turns back, Eddie’s lips twitch again, and this time the smile wins. “Well okay, George Bailey.”

Steve smiles back. Shrugs once more. “It’s for the best, really. Means I can keep an eye on—”

And he stops himself, realises he was about to say the kids.

Eddie’s eyes light up with interest. “Oh? So you’ve found someone worth staying for.” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice when he adds, “S’awfully romantic of you, Harrington.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Not like that. But… yeah, you could say so. They’re all worth it.”

“Huh,” Eddie says thoughtfully. “What happened to you, Steve Harrington?”

Steve laughs. Shakes his head. “Life. And, uh, got a thump to the head.”

Eddie whistles lowly. “Damn. Maybe I should try that.” He glances down at his test, frowning.

“Hey, come on. Everyone loves a comeback kid.”

“Hmm. Not everyone.”

Eddie sighs and stuffs the test into his bag. As he does so, there’s a sudden pounding on the door, and Steve hears some of the students break out into whispers that are so loud they might as well be shouting: discussing their plan to pin the blame on Eddie for locking the teacher out.

Perhaps it’s the fact that he’s soon leaving high school behind that has Steve viewing all of this with a clarity he can’t remember having a few years ago. They’re just mean, he thinks, just plain mean for the sake of it. Jesus Christ, you don’t kick a guy while he’s down.

Eddie’s eyes dart over to the group. He’s clearly overheard them too, but he seems resigned to it, like he’s got no more fight left in him.

A girl unlocks the door, and the teacher storms inside, apoplectic with rage.

And before anyone can get a word in, Steve says, “It was me. I locked the door.”

He can feel Eddie staring at him. He leans more into his lounging on the window sill, pretends to check his nails.

The teacher’s eye twitches. “And may I ask, Harrington,” he seethes, “what would even possess you to—”

“Oh,” Steve says, faux brightly, “that’s easy. I don’t like you.”

Eddie’s hand subtly rises up to cover his mouth. Steve bites back a grin; he knows a hastily stifled laugh when he sees one.

“Out you go, Harrington,” the teacher says, pointing at the door.

Steve stands up, unbothered. He’ll just ditch, head home early before the dick’s had any time to step out into the corridor and scream at him. That mall’s almost done being built; he could finish filling in a job application for one of the stores there before the day’s out.

He makes sure the window’s pushed up so far that it’ll be more of a pain to try and close it compared to just letting it be.

Then he swings his bag over one shoulder, says in a little aside, “See you, Munson. You know, Class of ‘86 has a better ring to it anyway.”

“I’ll, uh, take your word for it, man,” Eddie says, and he sounds a little taken aback.

Steve glances over his shoulder just before the door shuts behind him, and he sees Eddie’s hand raised in an uncertain wave, like he can’t believe he’s even doing it.

And if you ask Steve, that’s a movie shot all of its own.

[erwinsvow]

rafe thinks it’s harmless—in fact, he told you to stay at home and watch your stupid show, because he didn’t want you getting upset while he was out doing his work. you pout, but comply, curling up on his bed and watching your show until he returned later that day. 

he thought you were too soft to deal with his reality, that the shit he got up to would upset you, like it had before. you were real shy and innocent when the two of you first started dating, to the point where you wouldn’t even tell rafe if something was upsetting you because you didn’t want to make him mad. 

he had coaxed you out of it a little, thinking that you were a lot better now, but he could still see that shy girl resting inside of you, when you were nervous to ask him for something you wanted, when you felt embarrassed for wanting to stay over, how you clung to his arm at parties because you didn’t like big crowds.

“what the hell d'you watch, anyways? what is this crap?”

“it’s called jersey shore, rafe. how do you not know this? you’re just like them.” he glances up at the screen briefly, taking in people storming around a dirty house and cursing at each other.

“shut up. turn this crap off so we can sleep.”

he doesn’t think he needs to concern himself, until you accompany him to a party a couple days later. you’re dolled up in a short dress and heels, when normally you’d be in your sneakers. he doesn’t pay much attention to it. he swings an arm around your shoulder and pulls you in.

“gonna go sell to kelce and his guys. stay here with your friends, got it?” you nod in agreement, and he walks over, thinking that everything was fine. 

and it was fine, until one of the girls that kelce brought was getting a little too handsy with him. you see it from the corner of your eye, a girl in a tight dress with your boyfriend, touching his arm and leaning in to get closer. 

“c’mon, kelce, control this girl. sheesh.” rafe sees you notice it too, right when he’s trying to get away from her. he thinks he fucked up—that you’re gonna start crying and want to leave the party, since that’s the sort of reaction he’s used to, when he sees you march over. before he can even process what just happened, you’ve smacked the girl’s drink out of her hand, which falls to the floor and spills over her shoes. 

“are we gonna have a fucking problem or are you gonna keep touching my boyfriend?”

“hey, woah-” for once, rafe is the one watching with wide eyes. you don’t even look at him, addressing the girl infront of you and not letting her get a word in.

“no, i said are we gonna have a fucking problem or are you gonna go?”

“excuse me-”

“you fuckin’ heard me, bitch. are you staying? you wanna get your ass beat? you gonna stay and get your fuckin’ ass beat? cuz you can get your ass-”

you can’t finish the sentence as rafe lifts you up and over his shoulder, carrying you out while you continue cursing at the girl. back in rafe’s car, you cross your arms and stare at him.

“i could have taken her.” he sighs, exasperated with you and mildly amused.

“no more jersey shore for you.”

[astayinwonderland]

SKZ Han hard thoughts... | +18 MDNI

the brain rot with Han is strong atm so let’s go with some smutty thoughts on perv!han 

perv!han who can’t keep his eyes off you while you savour that lollipop. the way your pretty mouth sucks the tip as you innocently put it all in your mouth makes him painfully hard. that should be him in your mouth, crying, begging for you to continue-- "yes, please just like that--ugh!"

perv!han who gifts you beautiful mini skirts and short dresses-- not only because he absolutely loves your legs, but because that grants him easy access to your cute pussy. he gets hard when you get all excited and try them on for him-- most of the time it ends with him railing you against the nearest surface.

perv!han who in the middle of dinner with friends, let his wandering hands under the table and under your mini skirt. it makes room under your thong to tease your now wetting cunt-- just a little bit. he brings those same digits to his mouth as he looks at you, raising his eyebrows "so good..."

perv!han who eats you out like a starved man. he is desperate, you feel so warm, your taste is heaven-sent. all he wants is to drown in you, to have your juices all over his face. he grunts and moans as he slurps every single drop of your arousal. your legs tremble around his head, cumming for the second time in his mouth. when he finally releases you, he's drenched in your arousal. he licks his lips again and again, trying to imprint your taste and smell on his brain.

perv!han who has to excuse himself when he's recording-- he calls you from the bathroom stall. "please baby, I just need your help... i can't think straight i need you so so fucking bad". so you after teasing him for a bit you ask him to touch himself, to picture how his cock would be ruining you in that very moment. you hear his heavy breath over the phone as you request a video call. somehow manages to accept only to see you touching yourself. "you're so hot, baby i-- i-- ugh want you so bad" he closes his eyes, his face expressing exquisite pleasure as he cums with a loud moan you're pretty sure chan heard all the way to the studio.

perv!han who loves it when the boys are over and he convinces you of having a quicky. he rams his cock inside you so deliciously as his hand covers your mouth, drool slips from the corner of your mouth as he whispers the nastiest things-- "your pussy is so fucking wet, bet they can listen how wet you are... shit, baby-- best. fucking. pussy. my dirty, dirty girl. gonna cum? cum for me, baby. bet they can hear your muffled cries as well... fuck-- I'm gonna cum..."

------------------------------------

a/n: gosh I am lost after writing this...

this is pure ✨fiction✨ ˜ masterlist

[aethelwyneleigh27]

hiiii pook :))

can i please have ghost reacting to someone making fun of his s/o's trauma?? happened today and I just need comfort ☹️ I understand if not take care of yourself heheheheh 💗💗💗💗💗🫶🙇‍♀️

How CoD characters would react to someone making fun of their s/o's trauma

I'm so sorry to hear that Puff, you don't deserve that and neither does anyone. I hope you don't forget that you can talk to me anytime and I do mean it, don't be scared that you will be judged because you won't. People sure have a way of making us feel shitty. I included other characters just for you :3

Characters included: Simon Ghost Riley, Kyle Gaz Garrick, König.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

❥ If Ghost was there to witness it himself, I don't think he'll be able to keep his cool as much as anyone thinks he would.

Ghost steps in almost immediately upon hearing what the recruit just said to you.

"Watch your words" He warns in a low dangerous tone of voice, giving them the most intense glare you've ever seen him give anyone.

❥ However if he wasn't there to witness it himself:

❥ You know I don't think he takes it lightly at all when he finds out from you. He's observant, so much so that he noticed the small little things that you didn't do in the manner you usually would.

❥ Heaven forbid he actually finds the person who did it, that recruit will more likely be on intense cleaning duties for the rest of their career.

❥ I think everyone in the base knows the fine line between Lieutenant Riley and L.T. Ghost, nobody ever and I mean ever wants to cross that.

❥ Ghost has been through a lot, he has traumas of his own and he's aware you have yours. That being said, he definitely is trying his best at comforting you like you do with him.

"It's alright lovie, they won't get to you again"

Simon whispers, holding you in his arms, your head on his chest while you sniffled. He gently wiped your tears away and did his best to help you with your headache from the amount of crying by gently rubbing your head.

Simon kisses your forehead, rubbing your back to help you sleep while he found himself staring at your beautiful sleeping, tear stained face.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

❥ If Kyle was there to witness it himself, he'd let his protective instincts kick in. Usually he'd be calm and collected, but when it's your feelings and we'll being on the line? I think the fuck not.

He looked at them with the most "Excuse me?!" type of look as if they just disrespected his whole damn family tree. You know what they might as well have since they were so bold as to insult his future spouse, in front of him no less. The fucking audacity.

"Show some respect" Kyle says with the sternest voice you've ever heard him use, you'd swear you heard him mutter "fucking ignorant" a little later when the recruit ran off.

❥ If he wasn't there:

❥ He damn well takes it personally, first of all who the fuck was bold enough to do that to you? Behind his back too, like Kyle gets along with almost every single one of the recruits because he's popular and a casanova for a reason.

❥ Kyle would probably get them back and make their lives a bit more miserable, more likely that he'll try to get Soap in with everything. That's not his first priority though.

❥ His first priority would be making sure you're okay, he'd be supportive and comforting. The kind of person who makes it so easy to open up and immediately understands what your little body languages mean.

❥ He can tell when there's something you aren't too comfortable telling him and he'll reassure you that you don't have to tell him and that he's just there for anything.

Kyle didn't need to say anything else, you knew he was there and he made that clear. He held your face in his hands, kissing the corner of your eyes making you let out a small smile. He kissed your tears away.

König

❥ Usually, König hates getting involved with unnecessary conversation with other people. He's not one to interfere with other's businesses, when it comes to you though, it's a whole different story.

❥ Yeah if he didn't have the self-control, somebody would've been bitch slapped that day.

The silence was absolutely deafening, he stood protectively in front of you by pure instinct.

"You'll regret that"

❥ Yeah I think the recruit pissed themselves after that, how could they not? They lost their job not long after anyway. (König definitely pulled some strings, he might as well use his rank to good use. If it's for you then it's worth it in his eyes.)

❥ You know damn well that whether he was or wasn't there to see it for himself that the recruit was basically asking for a death wish the moment those words came out of their mouth.

❥ Trying his best to comfort you, he's your shoulder to cry on and will listen to you if you ever decide to tell him about your trauma. He won't promise anything about anyone who has ever hurt you their safety and or their life.

"Mein liebling.." You heard him call out his nickname for you in the sweetest tone he could afford.

He held you almost effortlessly, kissing the top of your head before resting his chin overtop.

❥ Yeah you knew he did something... (Yandere König? I kinda like that)

[nkogneatho]

𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

ೀ kuroo x fem!reader ft. iwaizumi

—cw: exhibitionism, blowjob, webcam sex, male masturbating, pet names (kitten), cum swallowing, deepthroat.

—a/n: this was supposed to be a small blurb but oh well. Also this was supposed to be just kuroo but being the hajime whore i am i had to include him.

Tetsu made sure to give you all his time and attention. He was there when you needed a shoulder to cry on, arms to hold you into and of course a dick to fuck you stupid when you were horny.

But today he had a meeting with Iwaizumi to discuss the financial aspects while funding and sponsoring the volleyball tournament the recently partner for. He wasn't close to Iwaizumi, more to the former captain of Seijoh, but Hajime and Tetsuro clicked during their first proper meeting. They even went out for a few beers and shared laughs. He told him about you so since then Iwaizumi would always ask how you are. You met him once during a party Kuroo organized and the man looked big. Bigger than Kuroo but you love your rooster head too much so you don't care about any other man.

You walked into the bedroom to find kuroo in his sweats. He had tight wine red tshirt on with black sweats and you peeked to find iwaizumi wearing a black compression shirt. It was obvious he was an athletic trainer the way his body flexes at ecah move. But your eyes were fixated on your man. Or rather his grey sweats. Shit. The fabric was loose but the way he sat, you could see his dickprint. Shit. shit. shit. You didn't know what plagued over you—maybe lust, maybe desperation, but you carefully drop to your knees and crawl to him. He doesn't notice you, his eyes fixated on the calculations he was writing on the desk, that until your freshly manicured nails trace his dickprint and his eyes shoot to you.

"wh—"

"Shhh." you gesture putting your pointer on your lips. "don't want him to find out baby," you grinned. Kuroo pushed his chair a little forward dragging the wheels from his weight. If he wanted to, he would've excused himself, turning off the camera and tell you that he'll let you do whatever you want later. But the man has always fancied adventures.

When you start stroking his boner, he lets out a heavy sigh, audible enough to catch the attention of the man on the other side of the screen.

"Is everything alright?" Hajime's processed computer voice pulls Kuroo's attention back to the meeting.

"Y-yeah yeah. Dude, I just had a pretty tiring day," he replies.

"It's 12 pm, man."

"Ah, right. I meant morning—fuck." He wasn't someone to lose his composure so easily but the last fuck was something he needed to moan because now your mouth was wetting his dick, taking him inside.

"We could've just resched—uhm...Kuroo," Hajime's tone shifted. Drenched in curiosity, drenched in something dark. "I can see her head."

You stopped. You literally stopped while he was still inside your mouth. You expected Kuroo to make up an excuse. He always handles these thing easily, right? Only now this man decided to drag the chair a little backwards so the man on this laptop screen had a clear view, a clearer angle to see what was happening. You peer up at him with a dumbfound expression.

"Don't look at me like that, kitten. You're the one who wanted to play games while I am working." His fingers wallowed in your hair, pulling you further close to his inner thighs. "Don't you dare run now." And you didn't. You obeyed him like a pet wanting to impress his master.

"Aw shucks. Would you mind turning sideways, Kuroo? So I can see her take that dick in clearly."

"I wouldn't mind," he shifted you to the side, turning his chair. "Enjoy the Show."

You started bobbing your head up and down. Even though his hands were in your hair, he didn't force you down his cock. Atleast, not yet. Your tongue tasted a hint of sourness, probably his precum. As you moved, your eyes prompted to the corner to find Iwaizumi's cock full on display as he stroked it with his big hands. Your cheeks burnt up immediately. Tetsuro caught the change in your expression and his pupils were fixated on you. He didn't know you enjoyed this so much.

"Iwa-chan."

"Don't call me—ugh that," he spoke in between moans.

"Aw c'mon. Why not? Shit, baby no teeth. You've seen my cock so I guess we're pretty close now."

"I am more focused on her. Ngh—look at her. Now I know why you call ker a kitten. fucking hell. lapping her tongue and all'at" Iwaizumi's balls were tightening. He was getting closer and closer. You knew because his gruntsbstarted getting heavier and louder. You were a few meters away from the laptop but it felt like he was right their, groaning in your ears.

"ah! fuck. yeah. Keep going, kitten. I am close. He is too—gorgeous fucking girl. yeah. fuck fuck. shit. ah! ah!" Now was the time when his hands started pushing you further down his cock till your nose bumped in his crotch. "fuck yeah. yeah. yeah 'm close. ah ah ngh—" tetsu's hand held your held in one place, forcing his dick until all his seed spilled down your throat. he knows you alwayd swallow it like a good girl. and you did. Noticing you gulping down his cum, gave Iwa the sweet release he was chasing.

"NGHH! Holy fuck," hajime cursed. You looked at the screen to find thick white ropes spilled all over his knuckles. Some even managed to shoot up to his black compression.

"Hmm," Kuroo chuckled. "Wanna say something to him pretty? Go ahead." You bit your bottom lip, still gazing at his softened cock. It looked big even when it was soft.

"Wish I could taste your cum too, Hajime." And his dick sprung up again. He didn't expect you to call him by his first name let alone say nasty things like that. That innocent image of you in his head was gone.

"Haha. See? Isn't she so cute?" Kuroo petted your head. "Aw look. Our meeting time is almost up." Hajime looked a little disappointed but Tetsu knew better. "How about we reschedule...in person?" And the smile at the end of a sentence confirmed that he was not going to discuss anything even remotely related to volleyball in the next meeting.

[kiwinatorwaffles]

two aroaces try to figure out dates 28 injured 3 dead

(image description in alt text and under cut)

Image description:

The first page of a three-paged comic. Panel 1: Edgeworth crosses his arms with an uncertain expression, saying, "miss maya, i hope you don't mind me requesting your help on such a short notice. Panel 2: Edgeworth lifts his hand to his chin, saying "i want to show wright appreciation by inviting him to a date, but i have no idea what to do. i was wondering if you had any advice or ideas from the perspective of someone who also doesn't experience romantic attraction. Panel 3: Maya grins and says, "oh yea, totes! i can help! lemme quickly just--" Panel 4: Maya pulls out her phone, scrolling through her Ao3 page titled "mayoinnaise." She says uncertainly, "um…. date ideas right… erm…. ok gimme a sec…."

The second page of a three-paged comic. Panel 1: Maya and Edgeworth have a back-and-forth conversation, starting with Maya's speech bubble. "how about going to the countryside and horseback riding and having a picnic?" "horseback…? the countryside is hours away…" "okay um… just a picnic then?" "i'm allergic to pollen." "sounds like you're just allergic to dates. "apologies…" Panel 2: Maya says, "wait i have a great idea!! you should get drinks and watch something on tv until he gets mega drunk and starts crying at you because you're so beautiful!!" Below Maya's speech bubble is a little bubble titled "Maya vision:" where Phoenix is blushing with his tie around his head, saying "miles i love you" with a bunch of "u's" stretching out. Panel 3: Edgeworth, unamused, says "…you know maybe i should've gone to larry". Panel 4: Offended, Maya replies, "hey!" in all caps and bolded italic text. "do you think LARRY would have better advice? he'd be all like," Her speech bubble cuts off here, switching to one that mimics Larry, indicated by a small Larry head beside the speech bubble and text saying "Larry voice". It reads, "edgey boy you should take him to your place and fuck him raw!" Panel 5: Edgeworth, looking sick, replies, "…good point. now excuse me while i go throw up."

The last page of a three-paged comic. Panel 1: Maya scrolling desperately with a speech bubble consisting entirely of ellipses. Text on the corner of the panel reads, "(on her 7th ao3 page)". Panel 2: Maya suddenly exclaims "dinner!" in italicized all-caps. "nothing bad ever happens with dinner!" Panel 3: Edgeworth closes his eyes and presses a finger against his temple, saying, "last time we had a dinner 'date,' wright ate his salad with a butter knife…" Dejected, Maya replies, "right. that time. post cancelled no dinner i guess". Panel 4: Maya looks back at her phone with one hand up in defeat and says, "man, i'm sorry… pretty much all i write is homoeroticism and angst! maybe we should ask larry…" Edgeworth's speech bubble reassures her, "i appreciate the help regardless…" Panel 5: A context box in the top-left of the panel reads, "meanwhile, phoenix:" Phoenix sits on the couch outside the office with a confused expression, thinking "wtf are they talking about". There is text in the bottom left corner that reads "(they kicked him out of the office)".

End ID.

[hazz-a-bear]

YOUR HAND IN MINE, wen junhui

♡⸝⸝ As soon as Junhui shot up and excused himself from the dinner table, your eyebrows furrowed in concern. If only the love of your life trusted you enough to take care of him at his worst.

.ᐟ sick junhui ( i'm sorry for inflicting pain on this boy, i really am ) fever, mention of throwing up, nervous and stressed reader, junhui needs to learn how to ask for help, the daunting ordeal of not asking to be taken care of because of the fear that comes with being a burden to your loved ones, absolute sweethearts minghao and jihoon

a/n - sick junnie is such a cat, i can cry. somebody give this boy a kiss and tell him it's okay. leave some feedback please please <3

When Jihoon suddenly puts a hand on your shoulder, you jump in your seat. Startled by his out-of-order action, you let your eyes find his, a question pausing in the air. You watch as Jihoon sighs and gives you a look - quite unreadable as always. When you simply cocks your head to the side, Jihoon is sighing again like a damsel in distress before he finally nudges his gaze towards your lap, specifically, your knee and oh –

You let your eyes zero on the way your knee bounces in sync with the song playing through the venue - a good hundred-something bpm to it and almost making it look like it's having a seizure of its' own. Wait, holy shit, were you shaking the fucking table?

"Calm down, you weren't" It's Minghao who comforts you from the other side of you, having moved to the empty seat next to you while you've been distracted. "You're fidgety"

Minghao is almost peering into you, doe eyes slightly wide as they run along your face with concern clearly written across his eyes. From your other side, Jihoon is pretending to not listen. He's long retracted his hand and sat back in his seat, but you knew he still had one year stuck in the conversation out of concern.

"Yn," Minghao almost whispers as if not to bother you. "Hey, calm down. It's okay. I'm sure he's alright"

You try your best to nod, not trusting yourself to give him a verbal answer knowing you would just end up with a whole lot of nonsense pouring out of your mouth as a result of your nerves. But still, even as you silently reassure him, you can't seem to stop the shaking in your leg, the shudder in your breath and that god-awful feeling in your gut.

"I'll go check on Jun" Jihoon says from your right, giving away how he'd been listening and making you look up at him.

He's already getting up from his place, brushing his hands against his pants as he squeezes between your chairs and slips away from the seat. From the corner of your eye, you see Minghao trying to get up as well, only to be forced back into his chair by Jihoon with a hand on his shoulder.

"Stay with her. I'll go" You hear Jihoon say to the younger, stern and a rare display of worry dripping from the words rolling out of his tongue.

"Yn? Yn, look at me" There's a light feeling of pressure on your knee, and you turn your face to meet Minghao's eyes, ever so comforting. "Hey, it's okay, honey. Jihoon hyung will check on him, okay? And then they'll be back, and then he'll be right here next to you. No need to get worked up, yeah? Junnie wouldn't want you to get worked up at all"

Minghao is peering into your face again, nodding and confirming if you've processed what he's saying before smiling kindly at you. "So, just breathe. He's okay"

The way Minghao is so careful with his words, trying to calm you down with the gentlest touch and the softest words reminds you of just how great of a person he is.

Minghao has always been so fond of you, ever since you entered Jun's life as a constant figure. At first, he might have been a little hard to approach. Considering just how protective he was of his Jun gēgē, you understood when Minghao shied away from warming up to you when you'd been introduced to each other. Junhui had been the most eager when the two of you met, almost bouncing off his feet at the mere thought of his two favourite people (his words, of course) becoming close. It had taken some time for you two to get comfortable with each other as Jun's best friend and Jun's partner, yet by now, you're convinced that Minghao considered you a sister - maybe a mother figure even. Minghao is now one of your best friends as well - the two of you often hang out by yourselves, sharing similar likings in music and flavours of tea. So it was inevitable for him to get worried when you started spacing out ten minutes into Junhui's disappearance - eyes hazy and knee starting to bound under the table.

"He kept saying he didn't feel good. He actually didn't seem well at all today" You stagger, slumping your head. "I thought it was nothing, so I didn't bother asking. Gosh, Hao, I should've checked on him a little more"

"Hey, come on" Minghao shifts in his seat, bringing a hand to rest on top of yours in an attempt to console you. "He'll be okay, I'm sure. You have nothing to be scared of. Jihoon is with him, yeah? He'll be feeling better, and he'll be back to his usual self in no time, yn"

"But I should've asked. Hao, you know perfectly well how he doesn't say out loud when he's sick. He thinks he's being a burden, so he doesn't tell me even though he needs me. And god, it worries me so much" You try your best to stay calm, seeing a few others like Joshua and Jeonghan looking your way with lifted eyebrows and confused glances.

You seriously did not want to cause a scene in the middle of the function in front of everyone - but also, you had an extent to keep your composure while your boyfriend was probably passing in the restroom.

The Seventeen boys ( or mostly Seuncheol and his wallet ) had planned a dinner party, a quiet get-together with all their close friends following the end of their tour.

Junhui had been so excited when he passed you the invite, all giddy and smiles, bouncing on his feet as he suggested the two of you should wear matching outfits and be lovey-dovey all evening to purposefully piss Jeonghan off for his 'lack of bitches/respectfully' ( Again, his words ) His excitement passed on to you, more because of Junhui's boxy smile and lit up eyes as he romped around than the whole dinner ordeal. Sure, you were just as eager to celebrate the guys finally having a moment to wind down, but seeing Junhui so happy-go sunshine was better than anything in the whole world.

When the two of you woke up this morning, Junhui hadn't forgotten to cheerily mumble into your shoulder about how he picked a suit to match your outfit, and Jeonghan was going to be so sour all night about it.

You had expected him to be stuck to you all day, talking your ear off about everything and nothing all at once since today had been an off day for him. His habitual routine at home was being stubborn all day and refusing to let go of your arm to follow you around the house like a boy cat.

You hadn't first noticed any signs of sickness at all as Junhui spent the morning like usual, clinging to your back and playing on his phone for the most part. And when he asked if he could go and lay down for a while, you'd simply thought he wanted to rest out of the weariness that came with the newly ended tour.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead before sending him off to bed to get a good rest, knowing he would have to stay active for the latter part of the night. Junhui almost slept the entire afternoon off, curled up on your bed with a newfound frown pinching his eyebrows together even in his state of unconsciousness. When you finally woke him up, Junhui had spent a fair share of minutes groaning and whining before getting out of bed, saying something about a headache, and quickly waving a hand to shoo you off when you instantly got worried.

Even as you kept asking him once the two of you left the house, he had simply smiled and pressed a soothing kiss to your temple over the console, telling you not to worry your pretty little head ( His words for the third time )

It was Seungkwan who pointed out how pale Junhui looked, joking about how he should go out into the sun a little bit more or he'd end up like Jihoon. Mingyu and Seokmin joined, saying something about how it would be another Macau situation if he didn't take care of himself enough - which made you throw a hurried gaze of worry towards Junhui, who avoided your eyes as his life depended on it.

Even Seungcheol, who mostly kept to himself turned towards you at some point during the night, quietly asking if Junhui had been eating well after returning home from the tour.

And since then, you hadn't been able to stop the waves of worry from washing over you.

Junhui had been doing a great job of trying to pretend like he was okay for the most part. The painful pinch that took over his features while he made conversation with one of the guests was gone as soon as it came. Junhui was back to his usual smile with rattled eyes darting around to see if he'd been caught. Later, when you saw him wavering on his feet, hand immediately flying to his temple, you had been by his side in an instant, asking if he was surely okay. Your boyfriend flashed his million-dollar smile at you once again, turning away to introduce you to one of his friends and successfully steering the attention away from the matter at hand.

It was when Junhui excused himself from the table to go to the restroom you started getting anxious. It was clear to anyone with a working pair of eyes that Junhui was not feeling well. Even if nobody voiced anything outright - the concerned looks the boys threw at you said enough.

And now, seeing Jihoon return with his face twisted into a scowl, you were on your feet immediately, anxiety doubling in amount and Minghao following right beside you.

"What's wrong?" Your voice came out breathless and frantic, hands reaching to hold Jihoon by the arms. "Is he okay?"

"He caught something serious by the looks of it" Jihoon sighs with an unsettling look in his eyes. "He threw up. Dinner and maybe lunch too, all of it. I tried to get him out, but he's asking for you. He doesn't look good"

From the corner of your eyes, you can see how the rest of the boys are trying to listen to your conversation, wanting to know how Jun's doing after abruptly getting up and leaving the table.

Not sparing a glance at anyone, you're pushing past Jihoon in the direction of the restrooms in an instant. If it was any other time, you would have lingered outside waiting for Junhui to come back to you instead of barging inside the men's room. But this wasn't any other time - Junhui wasn't well and he clearly needed you with him - even explicitly telling Jihoon outright.

"Junnie" You're whispering when you finally push the door to the overly luxurious restroom, gaze falling on your boyfriend sitting against the heavy door of one of the stalls.

Jihoon and Minghao, who had followed after you hot on their heels, were kind enough to wait outside without tracking your steps - possibly knowing Junhui would want some time alone with you. You knew the two would be outside with ears turned your way anyway, ready to be of help if you needed.

"My baby, what's wrong?" Without even minding the condition of the outfit you're wearing, you kneel right in front of him on the shining marble of the floor.

Junhui cracks his eyes open as you bring up a hand to his flushed face. "Yn" He croaks, the scratch in his voice making you wince as you shuffle closer, stroking the warm skin of his cheeks. "It hurts. My head, my throat, I- I don't- I don't know what happened"

"Oh sweetheart, you should've told me. I was so worried" Junhui leans his face into your hand as you trace your fingers against his skin, reminding you of his kitty antics. One of his own hands comes up to shakily wrap around your wrist, keeping you close to him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to upset you" He whispers, eyes still drooping out of exhaustion. "Jihoonie said you were upset. I'm sorry"

"I wasn't upset at you, Jun. I was just worried" With a smile, you reassure him, not wanting to show your uneasiness with him in such a vulnerable condition. "Tell me how you feel, baby. Did you throw up?"

Junhui nods, eyes drooping and lips forming into an adorable pout.

"My poor baby" You can't help but pull your lips into a pout as well, cooing and bringing your other hand to cup his face between your cold palms.

As much as you hated the idea of Junhui getting sick on your watch, you secretly loved the clinginess that came with it like a plague. A sick Junhui meant an extra sulky Junhui, all cute pouts and teary eyes looking up at you until he'd successfully lured (lowkey coerced) you into giving him all your attention (doting on him 24/7 and doing things you wouldn't have agreed to do for a healthy Junhui)

After the initial dilemma of processing the fact that he's been bedridden, Junhui usually had the habit of pulling a drama queen card out of his pocket whenever he got sick. He would flat-out refuse to eat, take his medicine or sometimes even go see a doctor at all. Throwing small fits whenever you tried to argue with him about it, he would always guilt trip you into cuddling with him at the end of the day, unable to keep his limbs to himself.

But still, you adored the devious being he turned to whenever he was sick, mumbling in his sleep and nibbling on his food like a little cat as you orbit around him, pampering him like no tomorrow.

"Do you wanna go home, Jun? You feel really warm. Jihoon said you have a fever" You mumbled with a frown, hands feeling around for the warmth that radiated off his skin.

"Mmh. Jihoon's lying, I'm perfectly fine" Junhui opens his eyes and looks at you with a cheeky smile pulling on his lips. Yet, the small wince in his eyes is too noticeable to slip past your attention.

You pat his cheeks with a smile to match his. "Oh really, is that so? Well, I'm still taking you home and grounding you for the next two weeks so, we can't do anything about that"

Junhui exaggerates a whine at that, head rolling back against the door, dramatizing his dislike towards the idea of being the victim of your worries for the next couple of days. But you both know how much he loves to be the centre of your attention - being cared for and so so loved on like he deserved to be.

Junhui then silently lets you fuss over him, wiping his face with damp towels trying to soothe the flaring of warmth that's spreading through him. 

Typically, Junhui would have been smiling his boxy smile, trying to lighten the mood by cracking his list of bad jokes as you fussed over him. So when he just sits silently with his head thrown back and eyes closed, you assume his condition might be a little more severe than usual. You can see the way he is still flushed, a sheen of sweat left behind as a result of the fever spreading through him. His hands are clammy where he keeps them in his lap, a clear sign of just how flimsy he's feeling now.

"My head hurts" He mumbles once you settle down in front of him again, immediately making you run a hand through his hair softly. You try to massage his head, fingers pressing to his temples knowing it usually helps with his migraines.

"We'll go home, okay?" You say. "You need to rest, Jun. You're still exhausted- you're gonna say no but your body needs lots of rest, baby. I knew something was wrong when you went to bed earlier, I just didn't think you'd get sick so soon"

Though you try your best to not let your voice waver, you know Junhui's picked up on the way your demeanour shrinks from the way your voice quietens down. Junhui, ever so observant and managing to see through all the cracks, opens his eyes to look over at you with a pinched frown. 

He blindly reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, bringing them up to his lips. You watch as he turns your palm towards him and presses a kiss to the middle of your palm. He lets your hands rest against his face, cradling it close before he starts to speak.

"I should've told you" He sighs, nuzzling his nose against your palm. "I- I just didn't want to bother you, you know? You've been so busy with work and I just - I just didn't want to add on to it, yn. I've been away for so long and you've been nothing but looking after me all this time. I just wanted to stop being so...so dependent. I thought I could look after myself, not be a burden for once. I'm sorry"

You feel a part of your heartbreak as you listen to Junhui's words - spoken so solemnly as he explains how he simply wanted to stop being so reliant on you and take care of himself as a person. As if he could ever be a burden in your dictionary of love and as if he doesn't know that your world quite literally revolves around him at all times.

"Don't...don't say that" You start, making him pause on his words. "Don't ever- god, Jun. Don't ever say you're being a burden - to me, out of everyone"

 Junhui's eyes are glazed over with a meek apologetic look as you try to form your words, too perplexed to even string your thoughts together. "You'll never be a burden to me, you know that? Never. If anything, I'm always fucking itching to know what's going on in this mind of yours. I always want to know when you're feeling bad or sick or just, anything. I always want to know how you're doing. I'm here to take care of you. Fever, no fever- I'm always going to look after you and coddle you, Jun"

"I love you so much, okay? I don't want you to think you're burdening me by telling me you have a fever darling. I always want to know. What if Jihoonie didn't come to check on you, hm? Would you have been able to go back out there by yourself and pretend everything's fine?" Junhui's face lowers as he lets your words wash over you.

Trying to keep your voice as comforting as possible, you lift his face to meet his eyes, a bit glazed over with a crumpled expression.

"Don't ever say sorry for wanting to be taken care of, Wen Junhui" Your words are soft, yet, sharp. "Not when you know you know I would run to the ends of the earth of you. Not when you know I know you would do the same for me if I was ever in your place"

"You deserve so much love and I won't ever sleep peacefully without knowing I've shown you how much I do"

Junhui stares at you, lips downturned and eyes suddenly glassy and shining under the harsh light of the room. You smile at him, tipping his head up a little, not wanting to let the tears fall past his waterline. He returns a watery smile with a small nod when you pass a pointed look, trying to convey just how serious your words were. He takes a shaky breath, blinking away the tears in his eyes before he looks back up at you.

"You're so good to me. Always"

"I love you" You lean forward before pressing a fleeting kiss to his temple and resting your lips against his warm skin - trying to ignore the fact that you're both still settled on the shiny floor of the bathroom.

"I love you too. Thank you"

The two of you are broken apart when a knock is heard through the door before it's pushed open and Minghao pokes his head through the gap. Jihoon shuffles in right behind Minghao, taking a moment to go a once over of their position on the floor before rolling his eyes/fondly.

"Gē, how are you?" Minghao kneels right next to you, a hand reaching up to rest against Junhui's forehead as the younger searches his face.

"I think I've caught a fever, Hao" Junhui, gazing at him with lax eyes, gives him a tight-lipped smile. "Puked my entire dinner down, my throat hurts now"

"Oh, Junnie" The younger lets his hand rest against the side of his face, thumb stroking the skin of Jun's ear comfortably. "You should've told yn, you idiot. What if it got worse, huh? You passed out or something and Jihoon hyung didn't come to check up on you? What then? Do you know how worried yn was? Stop being a dummy"

Junhui squints his eyes as Minghao scolds him, nodding his head along to the sharp words the younger throws at him with practised ease. Minghao jabs at his side for the effect yet the gentle and relieved look in his eyes under the faux rage isn't hard to notice.

"Yeah," Jihoon agrees from next to them. "You gave us quite the scare"

Junhui fixes his lips into another pout when Jihoon lightly smacks his head, looking down at him from where he's standing. The look on his face makes Jihoon sigh before he reaches to softly ruffle his hair with a carefully masked gleam of affection.

"We should get you home" Minghao's looking up at you when he says, still stroking Jun's skin, making you agree with a firm nod. Looking back at your boyfriend who opens his mouth to protest, he fixes him with one short and sharp look. "If you even try to come up with a fuck ass reason to why we should let you stay here when you look like utter shit and clearly needs to lie the fuck down, I'm gonna punch you in the eye"

"No hesitation, no remorse" Jihoon joins, fingers tightening in Junhui's hair as if to emphasize the seriousness of his threat. With an amusing helpless look in his eyes, Junhui looks over to you who's still kneeling in front of him, fiddling with his fingers on top of your lap.

"And I'll tell Seungcheol you're refusing to go to a doctor" You shrug and Junhui almost shudders. They all know how serious (and fucking terrifying) Seuncheol is when it comes to health.

Eventually - and by eventually, you mean after throwing a fit about that face that he's being taken home and only settling down once you'd promised to let him eat breakfast for dinner for the next two nights - Junhui agrees to return home with you.

You try not to worry too much when he wobbles on his feet once Minghao and Jihoon pull him up from the floor. Understanding how he's not stable on his own, Junhui clings to the two as they steer him out of the restroom and promise to take him straight to the car.

"People are going to think I drank too much and passed out or something, oh god" You smile at the way Junhui's whine carries down the hallway away from you.

When you're back at the main area, quietly grabbing your bag and excusing yourself from everyone, some of the boys are quick to pull you aside. Once you've reassured them that yes, Jun is okay and no, he doesn't have a severe case of Diarrhea, Chan, it's a fever, you say your goodbyes to them. Jeonghan, who's close to tears and fretting like a mother hen, offers to walk you to your car yet, you're saved by Seungcheol who pulls the other to his side with an understanding smile.

"Hannie, yn will update us, don't worry" He assured the boy before turning towards you. "Take care of him, okay? I'll clear his schedule and let you know. Just- make sure he's okay, yn"

"Of course, always"

When you finally approach your car, you notice how Junhui is already settled in the passenger seat, eyes closed and breathing a little easier than before. You smile at the way Jihoon is stroking through his hair, trying to act cool about it when he notices you looking.

"I'll take him home now" You announce. "Thank you guys. Really, thank you so much. I already did so much"

"Anything for Jun" Jihoon mumbles. "He's been working hard"

Minghao moves to give you a small hug, rubbing your back soothingly. "You're okay to drive? We can get a driver for you if not"

"Yeah, I'm okay" You confirm. "I didn't have anything to drink"

"I know. But you're sure?" You know Minghao is asking if you're in a clear state of mind to handle a vehicle this deep into the night, knowing you've been a bit ruffled earlier. With a sure nod, you assure him.

"Get home safe, yn. Send me a text and make sure he's well rested, please"

With the promise of nursing Jun to your best capability, you ultimately get in the car before pulling away from the parking lot. Finally, you let out a breath, feeling the heaviness in your heart substituting while the task of bringing Junhui home and making sure he's taken care of properly for the night is pushed to the limelight of your priorities. You feel the exhaustion, all the nerves and the worries you spent on the boy you love, finally catching up to you as you drive through the city streets. Sparing a glance at the same boy now peacefully resting on the passenger seat next to you, skin lit up by the dim street lights outside, you feel your heart filling with a new wave of affection towards the only one who held your heart in his hands.

God, how you loved him.

When Junhui's fingers blindly reach across the console to lace with your own in the dark, you know his hand was the one thing you'd never allow yourself to let go of.

[macsimagines]

Insecure!Darling trying to leave Yandere!Mikey

Put this into a separate post because Mikey's was sooo BIG LMFAO

TW:YANDERE BEHAVIOR, MINORS DNI, PHYSICAL ABUSE, EMOTIONAL NEGLECT, KIDNAPPING, ISOLATION, JUST REALLY FUCKED UP GUYS

Yandere!Manjiro Sano (AKA Mikey)

Does not care, and he doesn't even mean it in unkind way. It's just that he wants and loves you so how you feel doesn't really matter to him. You leaving isn't a scenario he will allow or even think is going to happen.

But the thing is he doesn't comfort you either. He doesn't tell you that it's ok, that you're good enough for him, or that he needs you because he really does.

"Mikey, I just don't think... maybe you could do better?" "That's stupid. Quit talkin' about it." He just shuts down the conversation and honestly forgets.

But he does love you. With all his black heart he honestly adores you, but this love is a very one-sided playing field. He wants your love but won't give it in return, the only time you receive affection is when you're giving it to him. Hugs and kisses and even words of devotion.

"I love you, Mikey." "I know, Y/N." And while he can't live without hearing you say it, he can live without ever saying it back.

So you try to go. As quietly as you can, you don't plan on saying anything to him honestly, because you know (or you think you do) he's not even going to bat an eyelash when he doesn't hear from you.

You write him a letter too, explaining how you know he doesn't really love or need you and that you're both better off like this, but explaining that you're always going to love and want him with all your heart...

Stupidly, you keep your distance. Trying to prepare yourself for the inevitable, and don't expect him when he shows up at your door (Or more accurately, when he kicks it in) one night while you're finishing packing.

You're too shocked to even process what's happening let alone ask him what he's doing, and he's honestly the same. Aghast to see you packing your things away... getting ready to leave him.

"...What are you doing?" is the only thing he can mutter, staring at you with this blank empty expression that scares you more than your kicked in door, "I-I... Mikey, please-!" "What. The. Fuck. ARE YOU DOING!?"

The funny thing is that you never thought Mikey was holding back in front of you. You've seen the way he fights before so you knew just how terrifying he could be, you just didn't know how petrifying it was to have it directed at you.

But he's shattering your windows, throwing your boxes and destroying their contents, wrecking furniture not even two regular people could lift, all while you cower in fear of him in a far off corner, ducking every time something comes flying at you.

Even when he's done with that rampage, he's not done being angry, his eyes are bloodshot with anger when he finally is looking at you, and you're crying so hard begging so much for him to have mercy- to please forgive you for offending him.

However, its too late for apologies. Even the attempt is a grave sin and Mikey will not excuse you just yet. He's grabbing a fist full of you hair and yanking you away from the wall like you're weightless throwing you across the floor and letting you body skid across all the debris and broken glass.

The sharp pain you feel is nothing compared to the fear though, because as soon as you stop on the ground he's on top of you, grabbing your hair again with one hand and your throat with the other.

"You said you loved me-" "I DO! I DO- Please- STOP-" "You said you needed me-" "M-Mike-y, ST-STOP, H-hurts-!" "You're not gonna leave me."

And with that, he dragging you out of the door and back to one of the safe houses he has. Muttering the whole time, "You're not gonna leave, you're not gonna leave me, I won't let you fucking leave me-"

You rot there for awhile, in a cold dark room, with no human interaction than when one of his men come in to give you food, or when he had brought some back alley doctor to patch you up.

Sometimes Mikey visits, but he just looks at you with an unreadable expression, maybe selfishly tells you that he misses your warmth and affection. You don't ever respond though, you feel like you might break if you do. Sometimes, he looks...sad? But he quickly covers it up with; "This is your own fault."

One day, he comes in looking a little worse than most days, almost panicked, then you see what he has clutched in his hands. Your letter? You honestly had forgotten what you even wrote in there...

"I...I went to your apartment. I was... I was going to get your stuff to-to make you feel a little better and I-...I found your letter, Y/N," he says, his voice sounding...choked? "I-uh- I didn't know that you... I wasn't trying to make you feel- I fu-fucked up-," and now he's crying. Like he was the one locked inside a hole and left to die.

He falls to his knees beside your mattress, and you flinch, because this is the first time he's been this close in what feels like months, and that reaction looks like it just about killed him.

"I-i did-didn't know- I- please- I love you," he whimpers, and for whatever reason his words make you sick. He never once said it to you before and now that he's finally giving you his heart in return it makes you want to rip your hair out of your head. You were good enough to love now that you were broken.

But his words don't stop, he doesn't stop, he actually embraces you in a hug ignoring the way your body seizes at his touch, how your skin burns when his tears hit it like he's crying acid.

Mikey could care less, just like before, he wouldn't pay attention to how his lack of love hurt you before or how all of it was hurting you now...

He spends that whole day crying into your chest, petting your matted hair, and promising to love you how you needed. "Your love saved me, my love can fix you," he had sworn like an idiot.

No your love had cursed you, it had damned you the moment you gave it to him, and his love had destroyed you, it was going to rip whatever was left of you apart...

But still...At least you loved each other.

[diagonal-queen]

hii! can i request hunting dogs with clumsy s/o?

Hunting Dogs with a clumsy S/O

♡ pairing: Fukuchi Ouchi, Jouno Saigiku, Tecchou Suehiro, Teruko Okura, Tachihara Michizou x gn!Reader

♡ synopsis: What are the Hunting Dogs like with an S/O who's clumsy?

♡ cw: Swearing, mentions of getting hurt/bumping into things/getting accidental cuts, mention of alcohol

note: It's been a while since I actually posted some proper writing. I genuinely do apologise you guys- there's not really any good excuse for me taking as long as I have. Long work hours and bad home life combined have me absolutely fuckin spent, but I know that's also the case for other writers who still manage to produce work on at least a semi-regular basis. I just wanna try and get on top of some of my reqs that've been gathering dust in my drafts lmao. Thank you guys for your support and I love you all <3 apologies for errors and I hope you enjoy x

Fukuchi:

I'm gonna be so real with you right now bro literally doesn't care

Like he gives absolutely no fucks that you're clumsy. Fuck you could trip into one of his many barrels of alcohol and fully destroy it and he just wouldn't even be mad

He'd just help you up and be like 'ah you're so cute when you trip over and faceplant and destroy my stuff <33' (probably not that far from verbatim to be honest)

I genuinely don't know what else to tell you other than 'he doesn't care', because he doesn't. Any mess you make, he'll have it cleaned up. Any precious item you break, he'll just replace it.

His only real concern is you somehow hurting yourself, but even then he's not really that worried because he'll find some insanely talented doctor to fix you right up. It wouldn't be an inconvenience for him at all

(Fukuchi IS a sugar daddy and nobody except me has ever acknowledged it and it's lowkey bothering me like c'mon be so for fucking real guys)

All this being said, he probably wouldn't let you carry something extremely valuable like amenogozen (not like he would let you carry it anyway, but your clumsiness does contribute to his overprotectiveness of that stupid dumbass sword)

As always, he will get pissed if anyone else gives you a hard time for your clumsiness

Your whole dynamic is basically just Ozzie and Fizz lowkey

He really just lets you do your thing honestly, he doesn't care whether it's imperfect or whatever. If you're clumsy, then clumsiness is automatically cute tf

Jouno:

Jouno's like the total opposite of clumsy, literally every particle of his being is perfectly coordinated at all times

So he might be upset at first to learn that your motor skills aren't as up to scratch as his are.

You need to remind him that hey, how does he expect a regular ass person to measure up to a genetically modified super soldier? (which is a totally fair argument that even he doesn't rebut)

And after some consideration he's like 'okay fair' and tries to get used to your clumsiness. Keyword being 'tries'; he's not always perfect at tolerating it, but he's doing his best and that's what counts

If you're the kind of person who curses when you stub your toe (or god forbid that thing where you bump your hipbone on the corner of the table for some reason), he's totally cool with that. He's fully okay with swearing

He just doesn't really like when you randomly yell or cry out in pain really loudly/right near him because of the auditory overload

If you cry he will take the time to calm you down and kiss whatever part of your body you hurt better (pretends to hate it but absolutely doesn't)

Uses your clumsiness as an excuse to hold your hand when you guys go out together <3 he also likes feeling your pulse speed up when he touches you

Will randomly pull you in certain directions while you guys are out walking and when you're like 'why?' he'll be like 'you were about to walk into a pole sweetheart' then you turn back around and yeah he was right

Tecchou:

One of my favourite versions of Tecchou is aloof himbo Tecchou so that's what we're going with. Anyways he would be like '...just stop dropping things tf'

It doesn't take him that long to accept that fact that sometimes you're just clumsy without being able to control it and he probably shouldn't trust you with dangerous or fragile object

It probably secretly annoys him a bit at first but he doesn't wanna make you feel bad about

His attention quickly turns to prioritising your safety, so ultimately he doesn't really care

He's really strong so a lot of the time if you have to carry something heavy he just offers to carry it instead. Not only will he be saving you from back pain but he may also potentially be preventing your toes from being shattered under the weight of whatever you would have been carrying

Tecchou would want to cook for you to keep you away from all the kitchenware and appliances, but you don't let him because you know he'll whip up something absolutely abhorrent. Even if you sometimes get nicked with knives or touch hot pans, it's better than eating his food (sorry Tecchou)

He wouldn't want you to leave your place on your own if the weather is rainy or something because that means the pavement/ground is slippery (if you ask him to carry you the chance of him saying yes is surprisingly high actually)

If you ever bump into him, he'll act nonchalant about it but he would be blushing and sweating and shaking and panicking and screaming crying throwing up hyperventilating fanboying dying

Teruko (platonic):

Like most...general traits that a human could have, Teruko would probably make fun of you for it at first

Eventually her teasing would become more lighthearted and silly instead of genuine, but if anyone else tried to bully for you it it's on SIGHT

Teruko can be clumsy sometimes, but more often than not it's just harmless things like carrying a stack of documents and not making sure to secure it so that sheets of paper don't fly off the top

When it comes to her physical strength and combat everything she does is very intentional and coordinated. If you see her actively being clumsy she probably really does not care about what she's doing lol

She's the kind of person to do dart and knife throwing for fun but if you're even in close range of a blade she freaks out and worries that you're gonna fatally wound yourself somehow

If you do end up getting hurt she'll help fix up your injury, like cleaning wounds or bandaging you up or whatever, but she'll chide you about it the whole time (she's hiding the fact that she's secretly super concerned for you)

Absolutely has a phone recording of you tripping and eating shit and always threatens to send it to people unless you buy her food or something like that lmao

Unlike Jouno or Tecchou she's a little bit of a prick and doesn't warn you when you're about to bump into something and then laughs when you bump into said something

I mean she won't let you get hurt hurt but also seeing people get hurt is funny sometimes lmao

Tachihara:

Let's not pretend that this motherfucker isn't also a clumsy bastard

C'mon the two of you are constantly tripping over your own feet let alone each other's feet. You're an accidental chaotic dual MESS

I mean Tachihara is a little less clumsy than you, being a Hunting Dog and all, but if he's sleep-deprived or drunk or something like that he is a literal safety hazard. He definitely doesn't realise how much of a unit he is

As such, he doesn't really mind that you're also clumsy. If you drop things or whatever he doesn't get upset, just helps you pick/clean them up like the sweetheart he is

Also tries to catch you if you trip over (his success rate is improving steadily) but may also fall over in the process so you never really know

He uses his metal manipulation to keep you from getting hurt. If you're in the kitchen and you're about to drop a pot on the ground he catches it before it lands on your feet. Is he really your man if he doesn't use supernatural abilities to keep you from dropping shit

Pretty much every room in the house is stocked with bandaids just in case. You guys almost always have tons of matching ones, along with bruises and random little sores that you have no memory of attaining

Again, if you're the type of person who swears when you stub your toe, the absolute horrific vulgar language that comes out of Tachihara's mouth when he stubs his toe puts you to SHAME

You're as equally concerned for his wellbeing as he is for yours. You both take good care of each other's physical health where you can

taglist~ ♡ @gettinshiggywithit, @fyodorhatr, @flower-of-darkness, @bejeweledgirl

[loveinhawkins]

Steve gets the idea from Dustin and Robin, in a roundabout way: Robin insists on buying a camping stove from The War Zone, which Dustin pounces upon with glee as soon as he notices it.

“Oh, we’re cooking with gas now,” he says, which is the worst pun Steve has heard thus far.

Eddie snorts, almost but not quite hidden underneath the sound of the engine. Steve smiles.

“Y’know there’s a stove right here?” he asks in benign exasperation, gestures behind him to the little kitchen area of the RV.

“Steve,” Robin says, “that’s not as fun.”

“Yeah, come on, Steve! It’ll be like at Camp Know Where—”

“Know Nothing,” Steve mutters automatically.

“—we oft dined al fresco.”

“Oft,” Eddie parrots, and Steve can faintly feel the movement of him laughing, from where he’s pressed up against the back of the driver’s seat. “Al fresco. Henderson, what lab did they make you in?”

“Eddie, either shut up or back me up, I wanna get a culturally enriching experience outta this.”

“Oh, excuse me, didn’t realise this was a field trip.”

“You’re excused.”

“Okay,” Steve cuts in, “have fun playing at camping, Henderson, but don’t come crying to me if you, like, blow yourself up.”

Robin chuckles. “Such a happy camper.”

“Boo,” Steve says flatly.

He parks the RV a little bit away from a store just off the main road—heads in alone as it’ll draw less attention. Out loud, he says it’s so he can focus without hearing whining pleas to buy junk food, whether Dustin-approved or not, but he already knows he’ll cater to each and every one of the group’s demands.

Eddie, surprisingly, doesn’t put in a request, says he’s happy to just go along with whatever everyone else wants—a far cry from when Nancy had relayed, with more amusement than frustration, “He said he wants a six-pack.”

Steve figures that the whole being wanted for murder thing would kill anyone’s appetite, but it still makes his stomach sink, that the most substantial meal Eddie’s gotten a chance to eat has been lukewarm Spaghettios.

They set up ‘camp’ in a field, and Robin’s the first to rush outside, shortly followed by Dustin, both intent on using the stove she’s bought.

Steve leaves them all to it, kind of enjoys the temporary peace of just messing about in the RV on his own—it gives him enough time to find where some crockery is kept, anyway.

He’s heating up chicken noodle soup on the stove when Eddie comes back in and tells him, “They got it working, no explosions yet.”

“Oh, miracles can happen. Good timing, by the way.” Steve switches the burner off, pours the soup into a bowl and sets it down on the table—where he’s already laid out a spoon. “Yours is ready.”

At first he doesn’t think the silence is all that unusual. He’s not really looking either, focusing on rinsing out the pan he’d used. But when he does glance up, it’s to see Eddie just standing there, looking at the bowl of soup and blinking rapidly.

It’s almost like… almost like he’s—

“Woah, hey,” Steve says, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Eddie says, even though he’s still quite clearly tearing up. “Absolutely nothing. Jesus Christ.” He groans, presses a couple of fingers to the inner corner of his eyes. “This is fucking mortifying, just pretend you didn’t—ugh.”

In barely a blink, he shuts himself away in the bathroom.

Steve opens his mouth. Closes it. Tries again. “Hate soup that much, huh?”

A watery laugh from behind the door. “No.”

There’s a silence. Steve dries the pan and puts it away before calling, “It’s gonna get cold!”

It won’t for a while yet; he can still see tendrils of steam rising from the bowl.

There’s a long, drawn out sigh, and then Eddie opens the door, sidles in to take a seat at the table.

For a moment, Steve thinks he isn’t going to acknowledge it, which is fine. But as Eddie picks up the spoon he says, head down, “It’s just. That was, uh. Really—really nice.”

Steve’s concern abates a little; he can’t help giving a slight smirk. “Would it help if I was mean instead?”

Eddie laughs again, no tears in it this time. He shrugs with a grin. “Do whatever you want, man.”

He’s eating slowly, his spoon dragging through the soup. His eyes seem distant.

“It’s just… I miss—” His voice threatens to break, but doesn’t quite get there. “I miss… home.”

Before Steve can think of a reasonable reply, Eddie scoffs, rolling his eyes. He drops the spoon with a clatter. “God, that sounds so—”

“It doesn’t,” Steve interrupts.

“Yeah, sure.” Eddie picks up the spoon again, keeps scraping it against the bottom of the bowl.

“Dude, what did I tell you? You’ve gotta give yourself a break.”

Steve pauses, stuck on what to say next.

He can’t even relate, honestly. Home has long become something he couldn’t… Something he couldn’t really miss, exactly.

It’s ever-changing: the luxury of eating a late breakfast in History; the crunch of leaves underfoot as he walked the railroad tracks with Dustin; the chill of the freezer in Scoops Ahoy, Robin’s snorting laugh bouncing off the walls.

Now it’s his car radio playing as he gives rides on busy school mornings. A high school basketball game. A goddamn video store.

“I think you have this thing,” Steve says slowly.

“A promising start,” Eddie says, lips twitching.

He’s finished the soup. The sight spurs Steve on.

“I think you have this thing,” he repeats, more confidently, “where you think that, like, we’re seasoned monster-killers, and you’re—”

“Uh, speaking objectively, Harrington, that’s kinda what you are.”

“My point is,” Steve says, “that you don’t need to—shit, I don’t know, man. Just. You don’t need to apologise or whatever. You’re doing fine.”

Eddie blinks. He’s cupping the empty bowl with his hands, breathing a little deeper, like the residual warmth is calming.

And that Steve can relate to: in the days after Starcourt, when Robin pretty much dragged him to her house, empty thanks to her folks visiting extended family. They both pretended that they just wanted to stay up late because they could, because they were just teenagers enjoying the summer, and Robin had made shitty hot chocolate from a powder, heating up milk on the stove; when Steve complained that he could hardly enjoy it through a busted lip, she’d said, still jittery, “I just thought—it’s just nice to hold, y’know?”

She was right.

One of Eddie’s fingers starts tapping against the bowl, the underside of his ring making a series of restless clinks. Steve wants to still his hand, gently press it further into the warmth. Settle him.

Eddie stands up with the bowl.

“I can—”

“Nah, I’ve got it,” Eddie says, already at the sink. He turns on the faucet, smiles. “Thanks, by the way.”

It’s so simple, so domestic, and all of a sudden, Steve’s struck with a thought: oh, I want this.

“No problem. I’ll get you something better, after… um, everything.”

Eddie chuckles. “Oh, Jesus, I think I actually would kill for some fries.”

Steve clicks his fingers. “So we’ll make it happen.”

“We?”

“Yeah, I hate to break it to you, man, but as soon as they hear about free fries—” Steve jerks his head towards the chatter outside, “—they’re gonna demand to come with, they’re like piranhas.”

He expects Eddie to play up the joke, to groan and complain.

But while he does laugh, Eddie just sighs before saying in earnest, “That sounds fucking fantastic.”

And his eyes are warm and fond, like maybe he’s found another home in all of them, too.

[rosegasly]

Maroon

✧ summary: your period has left you with an itch only your boyfriend can scratch.

alter; an excuse for me to write shameless dirty smut.

✧ pairing: pierre gasly x female reader.

✧ warnings: spit play, creampie, unprotected sex, fingering, vaginal sex, menstrual sex, dirty talk, blood, filthy sex. it's pretty much exactly what the summary makes you think it is.

Fucking hell.

  It’s that time of the month, the one that gives you the most problematic of lower back pains, an appetite of a dumpster diving racoon and the insatiable need to be fucked.

  “Pierre, I-” The words stay caught, breath and syllables all cluttering together into the spaces of your throat as you desperately try not to rut against your boyfriend’s face.

  “Chérie, you smell absolutely divine,” the way he presses his nose against your clothed crotch and fucking inhales has your toes curling, heels digging forcefully into his back. 

  “Please please please,” you beg, unsure what you’re asking for but there’s a twisting in your gut as heat pools between your legs and you feel yourself growing wetter. 

  “Please what, mon amour,” you glare between your legs, a futile attempt at trying to coax him, but he just cocks a brow, tongue peeking out from the corner of his mouth as he gazes back, mischief swimming in those beautiful eyes and you want to smack him, kiss him, throttle him and ride him all in the same instant. 

  There’s a long ringed finger, idly caressing your folds from over the cloth of your panties and you could cry from the edge of it all. It doesn’t take too long, easy as it is, to abandon your dignity and beg when Pierre holds your gaze and presses the flat of his tongue against your clothed clit and drags it. 

  “Lick me, Eat me out, Let me ride your face.” 

  At your admission, the cerulean of his eyes grows darker as his gaze rakes your skin, leaving a fire trail without touching it. He grins, smug and cocksure. It’s dripping with arrogance so sweet it’s saccharine, and you would find it disgusting on anyone else, but Pierre wears it well. He holds your attention and slowly drags his tongue against his glistening, full, pink bottom lip in a move so deliberately hot it has you begging all over again, hands fisting in his hair as you tug. 

  Something in him cracks in response to your pleas, or maybe it’s the lone frustrated, borderline hormonal tear running down your face as you clench around nothing and writhe to find some friction and solace. 

  The cool of his ringed finger touches the moist edges of your folds as he tugs your panties off in one clean motion, and then he grabs your inner thighs, spreading you out until the fold of your thighs burns. Pierre kisses your parted folds softly, feather-like and barely there and it’s a gesture too soft for him, but before you can say something, he parts your folds and spits. 

  Your eyes clench shut as the excessive wetness drips down from your clit to your hole, cool against the warmth of your pussy and you tense around nothing. It wasn’t needed. Your arousal mixed in with blood has you plenty wet but you know Pierre. He enjoys marking you, always staking a claim in any way he can and you have no doubt the kinky fucker is delighted at the sight of your hole fluttering close under his spit.  

  The tip of his tongue circles your clit, almost there but not quiet and you are squirming, trying to catch half breaths and god, you love him. Love the way he makes you feel. 

Pierre coats your clit in his saliva before his lips encircle it and suck. You moan, deep and loud and bite your bottom lip to anchor yourself while he teases your pulsing clit. His kisses are gentle, soft sucking motions that almost feel like a pleasurable tickle coming intermittently between rougher, more dominant laps of his tongue. The change in pace and pressure over your clit has you keening, hips grinding against Pierre’s face as you unabashedly chase your pleasure. 

  It takes you a second, dripping wet as you are and lost in the chase. It takes a moment for you to register as Pierre easily slides two fingers inside you and curls.  

  “Fuck,” you groan. 

  The fingers are curving and rubbing right where you need them to, where the pressure leaves your toes twisting and your body taut. Whimpering, you protest when you feel them come out right after and you are on the verge of pleading again when you see his fingers. Glistening and coated ruby red with your blood and arousal. 

You blush, eyeing the sticky mess and you hide behind your hands, embarrassed. 

  “Pierreee”, the whine falls on deaf ears. He finds you peeking and before you can hide again, his lips are parted, tongue out and in slow, deliberate motions, he licks the fingers clean, moaning like he’s sucking on his favourite candy and not your goddamn blood. It’s still bright outside, the sun not setting, when Pierre saw you restless and twitchy and decided you needed to be railed. It’s obscene how he drags his fingers through your folds while dim rays of the sun still illuminate your skin and licks them clean again. Smirks and slides his fingers over his lip, the soft pink staining cherry red, and it’s filthy. Dirty. Beyond fucking hot. 

  “You’re a menace.” you quip, tugging him close by the chain around his neck. It makes you a little delirious tasting yourself on him, the metallic tang somehow sweet coming from his tongue and you’d be mortified if it was someone else, but Pierre has always been able to make you comfortable. How he treasures every inch of your skin that he grazes leaves you flattered, yearning more.   

  You hold him there, head tucked in the valley of your breasts when you ask him to fuck you, mouth the words on his lips, and tow his waist closer by your calves. Pierre groans, arresting your hands decent to his crotch and gripping them firmly above your head with one hand. 

  Holding the root of his cock he buries himself into you in one smooth motion and your breath hitches as you clench, finally assuaged at having been filled. He starts slow but soon you are bucking, pleading for more and it’s all the confirmation Pierre needs before he is pounding into you. The bed rattles under your combined weight but you can’t care for the frame when he’s fucking you like that. Tucking your thighs to your chest to adjust the angle before he’s pushing into you again. Repeatedly hitting the spot that has you mewling, clenching tighter around him as your nails rake a burning path down his back, drenched in sweat, hot and humid under the summer noon. From under him, you see the familiar sky blue of his eyes grow darker into something more delicious, greedy.

  It’s too much, the pleasure, the warm muggy touch of his exhales on your skin, the way he whispers dirty encouragements in your ear, coating it wet with his tongue after. 

  “Come for me cherie, come around my cock and let me fill you up full. Wouldn’t it be nice? Walking around with my cum in you? A tampon plugging it up? You would like that wouldn’t you?” 

  He’s kissing you through the chase, tongue licking the back of your teeth and it tastes sweet. Despite all his words, the roughness that he enjoys in bed, Pierre tastes like the sweetest confectionery and you are frantic, rocking as you come, clenching tighter around him. 

  “Fuck, cherie. So good for me, so wet, so tight. Milking me so well,” 

  The rough pad of his thumb brushes the soft skin under your eye, gently wiping the stray tears. 

  “You did so good, amour.” Pierre kisses you, less tongue and more fond, before he rests his forehead against yours and with a few quick thrusts, he’s coming too, warmth seeping into you as you lock your legs around his waist and hold him through the high. 

  His tanned skin glistens bronze beneath the stray filtered beams of the sun when he rolls away to get the bath running, and you admire the view and sigh, content and blissed out. 

✧ a/n: hello! if u v come here from my main blog, welcome to my side blog! f1 was taking over my entire personality & tumblr wall so we now have a dedicated space for it. might move all my older stuff here eventually might not idk yet. but! i had fun writing this. i hope u enjoyed it. really cracked the ice with this one. ik u don't believe me now but I write a lot more and better than just filthy dirty smut. so follow! if u d like to read more. & leave me some love and an ask if u feel generous 🥰