#he didn’t even know there was a choir

[biceratops7]

My fiancé got hearing aides this morning so we listened to The Oh Hellos the whole way home, and every time the choir started he literally looked like he saw God 😭😂

Edit: just noticed this post said “hearing sides” the entire time

[foxgloveinspace]

People jumping ship cause of the new masks is very ahhhh. Telling. Tbh.

[charliemwrites]

Part 3 of obsessed Johnny

(Part 2 is here.)

CW for extremely dubious consent.. or this might actually be coerced consent? Is there a difference? Anyway, be safe!

There’s a few things you learn quickly. If you ask nicely, present things just right, Johnny will give you just about anything. Any foods, any drinks. He movies a huge flatscreen into your room and makes it so you can watch damn near anything with streaming.

“I just want to let everyone know I’m okay. You can read the message yourself before I send it! But the police will come looking if I don’t tell people I’m alright.”

So he cuddles up next to your shoulder and reads as you make up lies to family and friends and professors that you’re fine, but you’re very stressed and need space. That you’re taking some time to “work on yourself.” Johnny takes your phone away again when it’s done and apologizes again when you cry about it.

There are things you don’t ask for either, that he brings you. A squishy pillow in the shape of a bunny. A bunch of fidget toys. Soft thigh high socks for the cold room and cotton shirts that stretch down nearly to your knees. Not a lot of pants.

When you carefully ask why, he blushes and tells you that you look cuter without them. Still, you have a couple pairs of fleece joggers that mysteriously disappear sometimes.

Then there’s…. well there’s this.

“I’m making it up to you, angel,” he breathes against your bare thigh. “I’m sorry I’ve been so mean. But I promise it’s all for you, I’ll show you.”

You’re trembling, trying to think of a good way to tell him to stop that won’t upset him. Hard to do that when he’s prying his way so gently between your legs, tonguing at your cotton panties.

“It’s alright, I won’t take anything, Bonnie. Going to give you everything,” he whispers. “It’s not for me. All for you to feel good.”

He rips through the lace on the side with his teeth and tugs it away to bear you. He groans, eyes going moony.

“Gorgeous girl,” he moans, laying kisses all over. “Such a pretty kitty. Knew you would be.”

“W-wait, wait, soap,” you finally force out. But he’s far, far too gone now. His eyes don’t even flicker away from your pussy.

“Don’t get shy on me now, hen.” He loops one of your legs over his shoulder, stroking the outside of your thigh. “Nothing to be shy about.”

Your stomach clenches as his mouth drops open, hot air across your sensitive core. His mouth is already shiny. He finally, finally pries his eyes from your cunt, looking up at you through thick lashes.

“Let me, baby,” he begs. “Say I can, say I’m allowed to make you feel good. You deserve it, let me make this up to you.”

At this point, you don’t think he’d listen if you didn’t give permission so you just nod.

“S-slow, soap. Please?”

“Anything for you,” he promises. “Anything… anything…”

He kisses your pussy like a lover leaving his beloved. Aching, slow, devoted. His tongue grinding against your clit, licking at your entrance. He moans at the taste of you, eyes rolling back in his head.

You try to lay still, to be quiet, to just... let it happen to you. But Christ, he feels so good. Luxuriant. There’s no resisting the way he sucks so softly at your clit, tongue rolling over and over that little bundle of nerves.

You’re soaking, you can feel it running down onto the bed. He swipes the flat of his tongue through you slit, picks his head up enough for you to see the thick, glistening string of saliva and slick connecting him to your cunt.

You press a hand to your mouth as your hips buck, muffling the noise you make into you palm.

“No, no,” he whimpers, “how am I supposed to know I’m taking care of you? Please, baby, let me hear you. I know I’m never gonna hear heaven’s choir so you’re the closest I’ve got.”

He dives down with renewed vigor, sloppy noises mixing with his grunts and moans. He’s writhing his own hips into the bed, getting off on the taste of you alone. You’ve lost control of your voice - and your hands. They’re tangled up in his mohawk, guiding him to tongue fuck you just right.

You don’t know what does it? What sets you off. Only that it’s all too much all at once and you’re tipping over the edge before you can think about what it means when you do. You clench down on his tongue, ride his mouth as wave after wave curves your back off the mattress.

When you can breathe again, his cheek is lying on your thigh, a dopey, cum-drink grin on his messy face.

“So pretty when you cum,” he sighs, lashes fluttering. There’s a wet spot against your calf; he came when you did. Just… just from…

“Can’t wait to give you another.”

[jaeyunverse]

kiss cam

pairing: yang jungwon x fem!reader

genres: fluff, frenemies to lovers, high school au, basketball au

wc: 3770

warnings: profanity, mentions of kidnapping

summary: you were fully prepared to spend valentine’s day alone. yang jungwon was fully prepared to blow your mind.

note: i know i’m off season but i still hope y’all enjoy <3

masterlist

It was Valentine’s Week and you were absolutely, extremely, horribly miserable.

You didn’t particularly care about the celebrations, but the feeling of loneliness first began to creep in when the student council appointed a Valentine’s Day Dance committee and made them decorate the entire school. 

There were banners and streamers hanging everywhere. The culinary club was selling heart-shaped cookies and the broadcasting club was busy urging students to get their dance invites every few hours. You wished the PA system would malfunction and they would finally shut up. 

Some boys even had the genius idea to capitalise Valentine’s Day and ask people out on behalf of the students who paid them for their services. They called themselves Cop-Your-Crush. 

Classes were being interrupted all day long. You were witnessing a grand proposal being made multiple times a day. Just today, you had seen three girls being asked out and each proposal had been better than the one before.

Karina got asked out through a song the choir group sang for her. She quite literally burst into tears because her boyfriend, Soobin, still remembered the song they had first kissed to. 

NingNing got asked out when a member of Cop-Your-Crush sweet-talked Mrs. Kim into letting him take over her presentation. He’d prepared a cute montage using the pictures provided to him by her boyfriend. 

Yeji got asked out by the cheerleaders. They had prepared a special cheer for her, courtesy of Heeseung, also a member of Cop-Your-Crush, and his girlfriend, Chaewon, who was cheer captain. They were both Yeji’s best friends and had spared no expense in helping her boyfriend deliver a memorable proposal. 

You thought the entire concept was corny, but it would have been nice to have someone ask you out too. You didn’t even have any expectations. Just a simple Hey, will you be my date to the Valentine’s Dance? would have sufficed. 

Needless to say, you were irritated and cranky. You were debating begging your mom to let you skip school tomorrow. It was the thirteenth of February, so Valentine’s spirit was definitely going to be at an all-time high. 

You slammed your locker door shut. Slumping against it, you clutched your books to your chest and sighed deeply. If only you had the courage to ask your crush to the dance. It was sort of surprising that he still didn’t have a date. 

He was really attractive and really popular. You wondered why—

“Keep moving, dummy,” a voice popped from behind you, and you couldn’t help the groan that left your mouth. Deciding to not acknowledge the person further, you pushed yourself off the locker and turned to leave in the opposite direction. However, they seemed to have different plans for you. Throwing an arm around your neck, Yang Jungwon twisted you around and said, “Class is this way.” 

“Piss off, Yang,” you snapped, trying to not stumble as he dragged you along. 

“Are you coming to the basketball game tonight?” Jungwon inquired.

He wasn’t much taller than you, so when you glanced up at him, you found your faces only a few inches apart. “Why?” 

“We’re playing Riverside High. You know there’s a bet between our schools, right? Losers have to jump in the lake at midnight.” 

“Okay. Let me know if you lose and I’ll meet you there to enjoy your humiliation.” 

Jungwon narrowed his eyes and flicked your forehead. You let out a sound of protest and slapped his hand away. “You think you’re so funny.”

“I think I have better things to do,” you retorted. “I’m supposed to pick up my sister after her soccer practice and drive her to her friend’s house for a sleepover.” 

“That can be taken care of,” he answered immediately. “Riki will do the chauffeuring in your place.” 

You snorted. “No.” 

“C’mon!” Jungwon complained, moving to stand in front of you. You crossed your hands and raised an eyebrow. “I need you at the game tonight.” 

“Why?” 

“Because—” he hesitated— “because we always win when you’re watching from the stands. You’re our lucky charm.”  

Jungwon was making absolutely no sense. The Bears of Eastwood High were one of the best. They didn’t require lucky charms to win games. Besides, you’d never benefited from the so-called fortune Jungwon claimed you possessed. He definitely had an ulterior motive for wanting you at the court tonight. 

“You won the Christmas game,” you pointed out. “I wasn’t there that day. I was with my family at my childhood home.” 

“Well, I thought you were at the game,” Jungwon corrected. “That’s why we won.” 

You sighed and rolled your eyes. Stepping past his figure blocking your way, you said, “You need to get rid of these superstitions.”  

“Please!” he begged, following after you the way a lost puppy would. “Winning tonight would give us a ticket to regionals! Can’t you let me have this?” 

The desperation in his voice was so evident that you couldn’t help the crack that appeared in your resolve. You weren’t one to believe in luck, but you still carried an Omamori to stay safe. 

You hadn’t exactly been the recipient of any good fortune lately, but your life had been sailing smoothly. Come to think of it, you’d probably subconsciously begun to depend on the charm. 

You were a hypocrite for making fun of Jungwon’s superstitions. 

“Fine,” you relented. “I’ll come. But—” you added immediately upon seeing a wide grin replace the pout on his face— “after I’m done with my chores. I’m not leaving Hyeri with Riki. He crashed his car into a trashcan last week. I was with him. My life flashed in front of my eyes.” 

Jungwon looked slightly amused. “Do you think you might be able to make it before half-time?” 

“Easily.”

“Nice,” he popped. The two of you had arrived at your classroom, so he ruffled your hair and bid you goodbye before making his way towards his friend group. “I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you do,” you muttered to yourself.

You finished dropping your sister earlier than expected. 

Her soccer practice had run short and when you’d checked your watch after seeing her off, you’d realised that the first quarter of the game would be ending in a few minutes. 

You glanced up at the screen displaying the scores as you walked into the gymnasium. 

8-3. Eastwood High in the lead. 

Good luck was a scam. Shaking your head, you searched for your best friend, Eunchae, in the stands. Your eyes stopped on a girl who was aggressively waving her hands in the air. 

You smiled and waved back, making your way to her. 

“I was worried you’d be late,” Eunchae said. 

You hummed. “Hyeri finished her practactice early so I was able to get here quicker. I don’t even know why Jungwon asked me to come. We’re in the lead.”

“Better safe than sorry,” she popped. “Second quarter just started. We should pay attention.” 

You turned to look at the court. While you’d been talking to her, Riverside had scored a 3-pointer. Eastwood was only 2 points ahead now. 

You could hear both schools’ coaches screaming despite the loud noise of the audience. Cringing a little when Mr. Jung blatantly cursed at Jungwon and told him to get his head out of his ass, you decided Eunchae had been right about being better safe than sorry. 

“Timeout!” Riverside High’s coach yelled. “Timeout!” 

The whistle rang and the playing 5 went jogging over to the sidelines. Jungwon’s eye caught yours as he scanned the stands and you waved at him awkwardly. He smiled and waved back, looking rather relieved to see you. 

“You guys are so cute,” Eunchae commented.

You whirled on her. “Excuse me?” 

“I’m just saying!” she exclaimed, raising her hands defensively. “Jungwon and you would make a really good couple.” 

“What makes you think so?” 

“Other than the fact that he’s completely whipped for you?” Eunchae shrugged. “You’re into him as well. No! Don’t give me that look! I know you are. I’m not fucking blind, Y/N. You say he’s annoying but I don’t see you pushing him away. I think you love the attention he gives you.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling awfully exposed. “You’re delusional.” 

“Am I though?” She raised an eyebrow. “You both are together all the time. You can pretend all you want, but I know your petty and childish banter is just a cover for the horrible amount of flirting that’s hidden underneath.”

“I don’t flirt with him!” 

“He flirts with you and you entertain him! You claim to dislike him but hang out with him at school everyday! An idiot could tell by looking at you how much you enjoy being around him.”

You glared at Eunchae. “I don’t appreciate being psychoanalysed.” 

“You just don’t appreciate the truth.” She shrugged. “I don’t know what’s stopping you from asking him out to the dance, but I hope you come to your senses. You don’t wanna regret missing out on someone who cares so much for you.”

Thankfully, the whistle rang before you could formulate a reply. The game began again, and you focused your attention on the court. 

It was Eastwood’s way and the ball was in Jungwon’s hand. He aimed high and his eyes set on Jake who was standing at the far end of the court. However, instead of throwing the ball with all his might, he only flicked his wrist. 

The ball bounced between a Riverside player’s legs, and Heeseung, who was waiting a little behind him, grabbed the ball immediately. Instead of dribbling, the boy passed the ball right back to Jungwon. 

Jungwon caught it without stopping and sprinted to Eastwood’s side of the court. Your jaw dropped when you saw him manoeuvre his way through Riverside’s defence so flawlessly. Even though you’d watched him play multiple times, you’d never really been able to comprehend how good he was. 

He’d covered the court by himself without needing to stop or backtrack. It was as if he knew the opponent’s move even before they decided to make it. 

The crowd went wild the moment Jungwon executed the layup effortlessly. The whistle for half-time blew a few moments after and Eunchae turned to you. 

“That was so good!” she squealed. “He could go pro so easily!”

“He could,” you agreed. “He really is very good.”

You had to admit—watching Jungwon in his element made your heart beat at speeds you didn’t even know it was capable of reaching. You convinced yourself it was the adrenaline and the anticipation from watching the game. Your dad never sat still whenever he watched his favourite team play in the World Cup. 

“It’s time for the Kiss Cam.” Eunchae nudged you with her elbow. You turned to look at the big screen hanging from the roof of the gymnasium. The camera focused on Juyeon and Chaeyeon. The couple grinned and pointed at their recording on the screen in excitement before the latter grabbed the former’s collar and pulled him into a kiss. 

You felt a smile form on your face. You’d always thought the two of them were one of the cutest couples in your school. 

The camera then focused on Mr. Hwang, your biology teacher, and Mrs. Jung, your calculus teacher. You hooted and joined everyone else in the stands as they encouraged the two teachers to kiss. 

Whoever had decided the Kiss Cam victims was a genius. Mr. Hwang and Ms. Jung were the youngest faculty members in your school. It was a popular opinion amongst students that they looked cute together. Some even placed bets on whether it would be Mr. Hwang to make the first move or Ms. Jung. 

Naturally, the two of them didn’t kiss. They just smiled in embarrassment and waved at the camera, asking it to focus on someone else instead. 

You waited eagerly to see who the drone would target next. A jolt passed through your body when you saw yourself on the screen. 

Eyes widening, you shook your head and tried to tell them that you were single. The camera didn’t move despite your protests, instead zooming out to include Eunchae in the frame instead. 

You paused. 

Looked at her.

Considered. 

Raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m down if you—”

“To your left, you idiot!” she exclaimed, grabbing your shoulders and whirling you around. 

Yang Jungwon was standing in front of you with flowers in his hands. His hair was dripping with sweat and his cheeks were flushed. He was panting, but there was a shy smile on his face.

Your heart stopped as he got down on his knees and the entire gymnasium burst into cheers. 

“Hey,” he popped. 

“Hey,” you answered with much effort. Then added stupidly, “You’re on your knees.” 

“No comment about the flowers?” 

“Not when you’re on your knees for me in front of the entire school.” 

“Oooh, I didn’t know you were so kinky.”

“I didn’t know this was why you begged me to come to the game.” 

He laughed and the sound was like music to your ears. You were nervous. You were rambling. There was no way he was going to ask you to the dance. He wouldn’t be stalling so much if he was. He wouldn’t—

Oh. 

He was giving you time to wrap your head around what was happening. This was clearly intended to be a well-planned surprise meant to catch you completely off-guard. He—

“Yeah, I would’ve been really bummed out if you hadn’t shown up. My efforts would have been for nothing.” 

“So I’m not actually your lucky charm?” 

“Of course, you are. I feel the luckiest when I’m with you.” Your chest swelled with an emotion you couldn’t identify. The gymnasium faded into the background and all you could hear was the sound of your heart thudding against your ribcage and Jungwon’s voice as he asked, 

“Will you make me lucky again by accompanying me to the Valentine’s Dance?” 

The game had ended twenty minutes ago. 

Eastwood had won by 10 points. You’d thought the difference was pretty good but your Mr. Woo, your school’s coach, didn’t seem to share your opinion. He’d claimed that Riverside never even should have been able to get within 15 points of Eastwood.

He’d been especially tense in the second half of the third quarter when the opposition had begun scoring back to back baskets. It had all worked out in the end nonetheless, all thanks to Yang Jungwon, the MVP of the match. 

You still couldn’t believe he’d asked you out and you refused to believe he’d done it in such a grand way. 

He was the definition of a jock and goofed around in school all day long. He was charming, sure, but you’d never known he was capable of pulling off something this big. 

You’d never even suspected he was a romantic. 

Your phone dinged and you unlocked it to check who was texting you. 

[eunchae]: wya? 

[y/n]: parking lot!! are u here? i’m leaning against my car

[eunchae]: noo i’m home :( btw are u still waiting for him?? 

[y/n]: yeah he asked me to but the team hasn’t come out of the gym yet

[eunchae]: yikes i heard mr. woo was hella mad we only won by 10 points.. maybe he’s yelling at the players right now

[y/n]: i’m p sure he is LMFAO

Your fingers hovered over your phone’s screen as you waited for Eunchae to type her reply. However, before she could send it, you felt the device being grabbed from your hand. 

“What the—” you started, but relaxed when you saw Jungwon standing in front of you with an amused expression on his face. “Yang.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Someone could have easily kidnapped you, you know?” 

“We live in the most boring part of the town.” You snorted. “Baek Seung threatening to chop his neighbour’s tree on local TV was the most interesting thing that happened this year.”

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be on your guard,” Jungwon said and moved next to you, leaning against the side of your car as well. He was wearing black sweats and a red hoodie. He smelt of cheap soap and his hair was damp, making you realise that he had probably showered. “Besides, Baek Sung actually followed through. We have a real criminal in our ranks.” 

“Didn’t you literally let five sheep loose in our middle school three years ago?” 

“That was just a harmless middle school graduating prank.”

“There’s no such thing as a middle school graduating prank.”

“Tell that to the current 8th graders who are planning their prank. I hear they’re going to stuff the hallway outside the principal’s office with helium balloons so she won’t be able to leave.”  

You stared at him, a small smile playing on your lips. Jungwon’s eyes dropped to your mouth for a millisecond before he looked into your eyes again. 

“Why did you ask me to the dance?” you asked and turned on your side to face him. It was a stupid question but you were genuinely curious. 

Eunchae was right before. Jungwon flirted with you all the time and you always entertained him. You enjoyed the attention he gave you. But if this thing between you was just platonic, and if it was never going to progress into something real, you needed to know now. 

You didn’t want to hope and wait for something that was never going to happen. 

“Sunoo said I was an idiot for not shooting my shot with you,” he replied and turned on his side too. “He threatened to make a move on you if I didn’t get my shit together before Valentine’s Day.” 

You snorted. 

“Oh, also,” Jungwon added. “I really, really like you.” 

You felt a tidal wave of emotions override your senses. Euphoria, nervousness, breathlessness, giddiness, uncertainty and this inexplicable urge to squeal washed over you. 

Your heart went haywire inside your chest when Jungwon leaned closer to you and dipped his head so that his face was right in front of yours. 

“You’re blushing,” he whispered. 

You squeaked and buried your face in your hands. He grabbed your wrists and gently moved them out of the way. “Can I kiss you?” 

“I think that would be a health hazard,” you croaked, looking at anywhere but him. “My heart is beating concerningly fast right now. What if I drop dead?” 

“I can do CPR.” 

The corner of your mouth quirked up in a small smile. Your heart beat slowed down and you began feeling at ease. You wondered if Jungwon could tell that this was the first time someone had confessed to you. 

The entire concept of dating and being in a relationship was foreign to you. You doubted Jungwon had much experience in the field himself since he’d only had one girlfriend in kindergarten, but he seemed confident. 

You trusted him to take over the wheel and guide you through the strange waters of love. 

“Okay,” you breathed and closed your eyes. “Kiss me.” 

His hands cupped your cheeks, his soft lips brushing against yours. You sucked in a breath and just stood there, not really knowing what to do. 

Your hands itched to grab onto something, so you shifted closer to Jungwon and clutched the front of his hoodie in your fists. 

He smiled against your mouth as you rose on your toes and tilted your head to the side. 

But then you realised something and hastily broke the kiss. Jungwon stared at you in confusion, but before he could ask what was wrong, you blurted, “I like you too.” 

There was a pause. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, so you clarified, “I thought I should make that clear. I mean, you confessed but I didn’t confess back even though I feel the same way and what if you thought I wasn’t into you. I am into you, by the way. I’ve been crushing on you since forever but I never knew how to say it—” 

Jungwon swooped in for a second kiss and you melted in his arms. You could get used to the feeling of his lips on yours. They fit together perfectly.  

“You are so cute.” He giggled after detaching his mouth from yours. Resting his forehead against yours, he continued, “Eunchae told me last week. She urged me to confess because she knew your stubbornness would never allow you to make the move.” 

“What?” you exclaimed, jerking away from him. “Where’s my phone? Give me my damn phone, Yang!” 

He grabbed arms before you could lunge at him and search him for your device. “Relax!”

“I’m going to kill her!” 

“Why?!” 

“Because—” you sputtered, struggling to get out of his grip— “because it’s embarrassing! I was pretending to not like you but you knew I was crushing on you the entire time!” 

“It’s not embarrassing!” Jungwon said. “It’s normal—Y/N stop!” 

You let your body fall limp in his arms. “I’m going home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“You’re seriously not going to let Eunchae’s nosiness stop us from having our first date, are you?”  

“What?” you asked and moved out of his grip.

He shrugged and shoved his hands into pockets. “It’s nothing special. I was going to ask if you wanted to go out for some food.” 

“Oh,” you replied blankly. “Don’t you have a celebratory dinner with your team though?” 

“I can ditch them.”  

“You shouldn’t.” 

“Let me correct myself: I already ditched them. I want to spend tonight and celebrate with you.” 

Your heart swelled with happiness. “Really?” When was the last time someone outside of your parents prioritised you? You genuinely couldn’t remember. 

“Of course. Do you wanna get some McDonald’s?”

You nodded, but before he could make his way to the passenger’s seat of your car, you said, “Just so you know, I feel the luckiest when I’m with you too.” 

Yang Jungwon kissed you for the third time, and by no means was it the last, or even close to the last one you shared that day.  

[reiderwriter]

can i request a fic of pining spencer reid and bau!reader who are brushing up on some hand to hand combat and reader is really invested on winning finally pins spencer down and reader is straddling spencer and they are both like 😳😳

the rest of the bau and other fbi agents are on the side making varies bets about who wins maybe too? (eg that miss congeniality scene)

A/N: Thank you for the request and omg thank you so much for this one specifically - I loved this idea. I had to make Spencer competitive too, because 😊 I wanted to.

Word count: 1.8k words

Warnings: none! Just fluff, however if anyone wanted to send a follow up request wanting a part two where there is some smut I'd be 100% okay with that... Just if you wanted to.

Part two

When Morgan told you that, after an unfortunate shoulder injury you received on the job, you’d have to take another training course to prove that you were up to being back in the field, you almost resigned on the spot. Passing the first time hadn’t been the easiest feat for you, and while you were confident in your skills in the field, you knew that you were, to put it kindly, athletically challenged. 

“There’s no way to get out of it? No exceptions they can make to allow me into the field?” You asked, desperate to avoid Morgan putting you through the ringer. 

“I’m sorry, sweet cheeks, but they’re worried about your ability to perform under pressure, so I gotta push you today, okay? You’re not alone, at least.” 

“I’m not?” you gave the man a questioning look as you followed him to the changing rooms reluctantly. 

“Nah, they pulled up Reid and Garcia as well, you’ll all be doing the work together today.” 

“What that’s ridiculous! Penelope isn’t even in the field and Reid has never passed one of these things.” You throw your bag down on a bench, and look ahead of you into the equipment room, and sure enough, there they are, looks of equal dissatisfaction spread across their faces. 

“You’re preaching to the choir here, sweet cheeks. You’re in good hands though, I’m not going to push you too hard today.” Somehow you didn’t believe that. 

–X–

An hour later you were flat on your back, panting harder than you had in months, dripping with sweat and feeling an ache in your bones that you hadn’t felt ever. Next to you on the ground, you could hear your fellow torturee’s moaning in pain, presumably doing their best to stay conscious. 

“You know, chocolate thunder, I love you, I really do, but you make it very, very hard sometimes,” Penelope squeaked out as the other man chuckled from above you. “God I’m not even asthmatic but I think I need an inhaler.” 

You chuckled at that and pushed yourself up to a seated position. 

“I think I am asthmatic.” Reid said form his position on your other side. You stole a glance at him quickly before blushing and looking away. You didn’t have a crush on him, or at least that was what you were telling yourself, but you did have a keen appreciation for how he looked in his button down shirts and FBI vests. His hair was shorter now than when you first met, and the longer parts stuck to his face with sweat. You were lucky that the strength had been all but zapped from your body because given the chance, you’d be pushing his hair out of his face for him and get lost in his eyes. 

“Come on, guys. You finished cardio, you finished weights, all you got left is some simple self defense drills. Think you can handle that?” Morgan laughed from above you. 

“No! I haven’t been able to handle any of this, what makes you think I can do more?” Reid moaned out on the floor next to you. You stood up, reluctantly, holding out a hand out to the man and helping to pull him to his feet. 

You underestimate the help he needed to get up, though and he has to catch you in his arms as soon as he’s up, as you stumble into him, legs too weak. You blush as the two of you stay uncomfortably close for a few seconds, only pulling apart when Morgan lets out a sharp cough. You jump back from each other then, and pray to god that no one else in the room saw the puppy dog eyes you were unintentionally shooting up at him. 

“Okay, so there’s three of you, so I’ll join in for these sparring drills. Any volunteers?” 

“To tangle my limbs with yours all hot and sweaty on the floor? Sweetie, I thought you’d never ask.” You hadn’t seen Penelope move so fast all day, though you knew she was only half joking. 

“Okay, so Y/L/N, Reid, you head over to that mat over there. You’re going to start a hand-to-hand combat simulation, whoever pins the other down first wins. We’ll do best of three, okay?” 

Reluctantly, you made your way to the mat he indicated to, knowing that you weren’t going to have as much fun as Penelope any time soon. 

“You’re going to start in a common self-defense scenario. Reid, you’re going to be the assailant, you’re going to come up on Y/L/N from behind, okay?” You nodded at Morgan’s words and turned yourself away from Reid, feeling his presence at your back already. 

“Is this really necessary?” He questioned from behind you, and you could practically feel Morgan’s answering look on your back. Finally, he rested a light hand on your shoulder, and your session started. 

You grabbed the hand on your shoulder and twisted it, and yourself, behind his back, gaining the upper hand quickly. 

“Y/N, come on. Take it easy, I’m exhausted. Just let me pin you and we can call it a day.” Reid said from in front of you and your ears burnt at his suggestion. 

“Wait, why would I let you pin me? I have the upper hand right now.” He huffed out a breath and twisted his body underneath your arm, catching you off-guard as he swept your legs from underneath you. Before you could fall all the way down, though, he grabbed you around your waist and held you in what you assumed looked like a ballroom dancing dip. 

“You were saying?” You desperately wanted to wipe that arrogant smirk off of his lips. “Actually, I have a few years more experience in the field than you, and I was probably beaten up a lot more in high school, so I wouldn’t be too upset about losing to me, okay?” 

You returned his smile sarcastically for a second, before lifting and swinging the heel of your foot into his knee, forcing him to hit the mat as you scrambled out of his grip and repositioned yourself behind him, pulling him arm behind his back a second time in an attempt to subdue him. 

“If you have so much experience getting your ass kicked, Spence, why don’t you just let me do it?” You enjoyed feeding his words back to him as he moaned out a little. 

“Because something tells me you’d enjoy it a little too much.” He somehow slips from your grip again, swiping your legs out from underneath you and climbing over you. The two of you struggle for a few seconds on the floor, but he has your legs pinned with his own, and he forces your hands above your head. Your heads are even with one another, and you’re both breathing heavily now. 

You decide to take another approach to get out of his hold this time. Rolling your hips up into his slightly, you let your eyes rake over his body above you. 

“You sure you’re not enjoying this just as much, Reid?” you shoot him an innocent enough smile, but you can see the flush staining his skin, and he loosens his hold on you just enough to allow you to wrap your legs around his waist and use your bosy weight as leverage to flip your positions. 

Now he’s on his back below you and you sit up in triumph, straddling his lap. His arms fight to get yours pinned to your side but you give back just as much as he is, and you can feel the crowd forming around you. He decides to fight dirty as well. 

“Thought you’d enjoy being under me more than you’d like being on top. I was being a gentleman,” he huffs out and manages to flip you over once more, pushing up and wrapping his legs up over your knees and forcing you onto your back. Your legs are now spread wide for him, his crotch pushed against yours, his arms gripping yours and pushing them firmly into the mat. You struggle a few more times but you know this is it. He’s got you. 

“What? Not even going to let my hands go to let me tap out?” you huff out, blowing a stray piece of hair out of your eyes. He pins both of your hands with one of his and gently tucks the hair behind your ear for you as you burn up under his touch, suddenly at a loss for words. 

“What, and let you try to tackle me again? Maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll let you go.” 

“Y/L/N, Reid, if you’re finished over there, you can grab a drink and start over. I did say this was going to be best of three.” Both of you suddenly snap your eyes up to Morgan, who has one raised eyebrow pointed at you. You realise that you’ve also drawn the attention of the other gym-goers and scramble away from each other to the sound of chuckles and wolf whistles. 

“Shit,” you run a hand through your hair and get in position to go again, this time swapping with Reid so you take the position of the unsub. 

From a distance, you don’t realise that Penelope and Morgan have completely given up on their own drills. 

“Twenty bucks says Reid gives in and kisses her first,” she whispers to her companion. 

“The kid? No way, he’s being too cocky for that. I reckon Y/N will do it to try and distract him first.” 

“I’ll take that bet,” Garcia says, and they settle back into watching the two of you, completely oblivious to the fact that you’re both enjoying sparring a little bit more than you normally would be. 

“When do you think I should tell them that they never needed to do this training session in the first place?” 

“Derek Morgan, if you are admitting right now that you made me walk through hell and back just so you could force these two beautiful idiots whom I love to recognise their feelings for each other then I am going to murder you and then bring you back to life so I can kiss you for being so smart.” 

“So I shouldn’t tell them?” 

“Take it to the grave, baby.” 

They turned their attention back to you, suddenly way more invested in how this was going to turn out.

[livinginshambles]

If I could take it all back | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: James' time to pine over you. After James rejected your feelings, and you promised to get over him during the summer break, he finds himself in the same position of unrequited love and wishes he could take his words back.

Can be read as a standalone but part two of a multi-fic

Masterlist Part one

Notes: Not proofread, probably spelling mistakes. Its a happy ending, what a surprise (but I did promise to lovely anon that next time, I'll make it tough on James)

_________________________

What would your reaction be if he told you that he may fancy you. You probably wouldn’t take him seriously, he figured. And it’s not as if he actually fancied you, right? His mind was probably just confused because he, for the first time ever, wasn’t so preoccupied with Lily, and could instead acknowledge other girls too.

James plopped down on his bed in exhaustion after their first day back at Hogwarts and his mind wandered off to you.

“Bloody hell, is it me, or was that ceremony more tedious than ever before?” Sirius complained after he too dropped down on his bed across the room.

“Just gets longer each year,” Remus groaned in dismay, stuffing his face in his pillow with a deep sigh.

“And that choir,” Peter chimed in. He didn’t even have to finish his sentence, the rest of the marauders dramatically joining in on complaining.

“And ignoring the toads, there was a bloke who kept making eyes at our Y/N,” Sirius huffed. James’ relaxed posture turned rigid, and he rolled over, so his eyes could snap towards Sirius. “What!? Who?”

“Calm down, Prongs,’ Remus was quick to shush him. “Sirius is exaggerating as usual.” A pillow was thrown his way. “Also, it wasn’t inappropriately making eyes at her or anything. He just smiled at her, that’s all.” Remus ducked the pillow.

“Yeah, and it was completely mutual, so it’s alright,” Peter decided to add his own observation of the incident in attempt to reassure James. His words seemed to have the opposite effect, although James tried to hide the way his heart plummeted. Mutual?

“True, she even blushed a little,” Remus seemed to recall. “You reckon she fancies him?” He wondered out loud and James huffed in annoyance. “That’s ridiculous, Y/N doesn’t fancy him,” he curtly replied. Peter shook his head. “But didn’t she say that she fancied someone last year?”

“Well if she fancied anyone, it wouldn’t be that stupid git,” James stubbornly said. Sirius squinted his eyes at James before a shit eating grin appeared on his face. “Prongs…” he slowly began. “Do you fancy our Y/N?” Remus and Peter’s jaws fell slack, sitting up to stare at James.

James froze and his mouth opened and closed, trying to find the words to deny Sirius’ accusation. “No, I don’t,” he defended himself. “I just know Y/N and I’m telling you, that guy is not her type,” he scoffed.

“Well to be fair, we don’t actually know her type, she hasn’t dated anyone before and refused to tell us about her crush.” Sirius poked. “Well, I do,” James snapped. There was a long awkward silence while the marauders raised their eyebrows at his tone, and then James cleared his throat. “I just mean that I’ve known her longest, so obviously I know her type,” he tried to explain.

“Right.” Sirius slowly drew out. Remus and Peter nodded their heads but not at all looking convinced. James dropped back down on his bed and let his mind wander off to you again. Oh, who was he lying to, of course he fancied you.

“So, lovely Y/N, what’s your type in regard to guys,” Sirius curiously asked you. James shot him an angry look that you couldn’t see as you were huddled against him, your back to his chest so that you two could fit on the armchair together.

“What, like personality or looks?” You tilted your head in question.

“Uh, both?” Sirius asked.

You hummed in thought. “Well, kind of like Prongs, I guess,” you shamelessly admitted, and James almost choked on his own saliva. “Though, look-wise, you’re pretty easy on the eyes too, Pads.” You winked jokingly at Sirius, and he blew you a kiss while laughing out loud before getting back on the matter at hand. “So, James here is your type?” He almost disbelievingly repeated.

You shrugged. “Sure.”

James scanned Sirius’ face and could see the gears turning in his friend’s head. Merlin, he’d have to let Sirius know that he didn’t have to bother playing matchmaker, he’d destroyed any chances of you two ever becoming more by himself, two months ago.

His arms tightened around you unconsciously. It didn’t matter as long as he could keep you close like this. He’d take whatever you’d give him, he decided. He was happy enough with your friendship.

“And not that Hufflepuff guy from the choir yesterday?” Sirius pressed on.  

“Huh? Oh!” You furrowed your eyebrows. “You mean Klaus?” You bashfully smiled at your friends. “He actually asked me out on a date, encouraged by his brothers and sisters and all,” you admitted. “I guess he’s cute, but I told him I’d rather get to know him as a friend first, before going out,” you said. “I mean, I’ve never even spoken to him, but I’m not opposed to it.”

James couldn’t help but feel jealous at your words, his stomach turning at the thought of you getting to know some guy and then going on a date with him.

“I mean, he’s not really like James, is he?” Peter asked. James held his breath and waited for your reaction.

“Well, maybe it’s better if he’s not like James at all. It’d probably feel weird to date someone who is exactly like your best friend.”

James frowned. “I disagree,” he spoke up. You turned in his lap to look at him. “I mean, isn’t a partner supposed to be your best friend or something.” James motioned around with one of his arms. You laughed at his statement. “Yeah, your partner should be someone that you consider your best friend, but not necessarily a copy of ‘your existing best friend’,” you remarked. “Maybe Klaus will be another best friend.”

“You can only have one best friend,” James grumbled pettily. “Best is a superlative, there’s only one and that’s supposed to be me.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, and his eyes couldn’t help but flicker towards your lips. James looked away, flustered at your proximity. “I can have more best friends. Peter, Remus and Sirius are my best friends too.”

“But they’re an exception,” James whined. You swatted him. “So, make an exception for whoever I want to be best friends with. I have good character judgement.” James sighed. “Of course,” he muttered in surrender. You beamed up at him and pressed a kiss to his cheek before getting up.

James felt his heart flutter and frowned at the loss of contact. “I’m going to study with Lily,” you said and bent down to give Peter and Remus a kiss on the cheek as well.

You stopped at Sirius and gave him a reprimanding look. “No funny business Padfoot,” you warned him, and he chuckled at the memory of when he had turned his head last minute as a joke, resulting in an ‘almost kiss', because you had quickly pulled back, right on time and tripped. In attempt to hold onto Sirius, you had grabbed his shirt and accidentally ripped it on your way down. When Professor McGonagall had found you on the floor in front of Sirius who was shirtless, you’d both gotten detention. In separate classrooms.

Sirius held his hands up in mock surrender and you gave him a kiss on the cheek too. Then you turned around and left the common room.

“What in Godric’s name was that, Prongs?” Sirius immediately commented as soon as the door closed.

“Pads, no.” James immediately cut him off before he really started to get any brilliant ideas.

“She said you’re her type!” Sirius exclaimed, his arms flailing around enthusiastically.

“Padfoot, seriously-,”

Remus and Peter snickered. Sirius shot them an unamused look.

“Prongs, are you stupid? You’re her type! You fancy her, and she considers you as her type of people she’d date?” Sirius couldn’t phantom why James wasn’t as thrilled about this as he was. Unless-

It seemed that Remus had caught on to it too. “She already confessed her feelings to you, didn’t she?” He carefully asked. James didn’t respond right away.

“She fancied Prongs!?” Sirius gaped in utter shock at James at the revelation, an incredulous look on his face. He turned towards James. “What happened? Oh, Merlin, did you reject her?”

“All that matters is that she doesn’t fancy me anymore, alright?” James ended up saying.

“Merlin, what did you tell her?” Peter asked, eyes wide at James’ reluctance to explain what happened.

“Nothing! I just-, I knew she fancied me, but I thought that Lily was it for me” James defended himself.

“After she found out on the train that Lily agreed to meeting up for a date during the summer vacation before I could tell her myself, she confessed her feelings and I told her that we would always be best friends, but never anything more,” James confessed with a sigh, and he looked down at his hands in his lap.

“She said she understood and that she’d get over her feelings so we could go back to being best friends this year, without having it be awkward.” James trailed off. “And she did, so here we are,” he sighed.

“Well maybe she’s just pretending to be over you,” Peter offered.

“We all know that Y/N can’t lie for shit,” Remus pointed out.

James groaned.

“Wait, when did you even have time to realize that you fancy our Y/N between your ‘sort-of-but-not-really-because-you-two-never-actually-dated’ breakup and today?” Sirius intercepted the conversation again.

Before James could answer, Frank entered the room. “Guys, I’ve got a date,” he breathed out, face still red from running up the stairs.

“Hey, congrats mate! You finally mustered up the courage ‘ey,” James grinned broadly at him.

Frank scratched the back of his head. “Well, Alice did, I guess,” he answered almost embarrassedly, if not for the proud grin he was wearing. Sirius whistled at that, and Frank beamed even more. “Yeah, she’s amazing.”

James smile never faltered, but when he looked at Frank’s gleeful face, his mind wandered off once again and he imagined that if you were to ask him out, he would most certainly have the same reaction.

Blimey, he would never be that happy with just your friendship, would he? He’d have to tell you eventually, he supposed.

But of course, two months would pass by, and he chickened out time and time again, which all led to his current situation. He was sitting at a table in the corner of the establishment, attention captivated by your cheery laughter while tou were on your date with the Hufflepuff boy who was embarrassedly looking away while you patted his arm in reassurance.

“Don’t worry, I fully agree with you. Dave really is sexy,” you winked at him. Klaus relaxed at your words and smiled along, both of you glancing at the waiter who walked away from your table after taking your order.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Remus muttered quietly to his friends, in particular to Sirius, who was currently filling a cup of butterbeer with a laxative potion, reserved for your date. Seeing that Sirius wasn’t going to give up, he nudged James under the table.

“Prongs, this is wrong, and you know it,” he hissed. James looked conflicted. His eyes darted between your smiling form, the hand on you arm and the cup of butterbeer.

Jealousy flared up when he saw Klaus lift your hand and kiss the back of it in a dramatic way, and he pushed any feelings of guilt to the back of his mind.

“Well, my old man is already disappointed in me anyway,” Klaus concluded and shot a wink at Dave who came with your drinks. “Danke,” he nodded appreciatively before gawking at your pink drink. “Is that the dragon fruit drink?” He asked. You nodded. “Want to try it?”

“Oh Merlin, this is amazing!” Klaus moaned and you laughed while shushing him, getting strange looks from the people around you. “If you promise to stop moaning like that, you can have it all,” you said, shaking your head amusedly. “Oh, I couldn’t,” Klaus said, but eyed the drink with big eyes in interest.

“You already drank half of it anyway, doofus,” you laughed, and you reached for his still untouched butterbeer.

James’ blood ran cold. “Fuck,” he cursed and before he could help it, he had surged forward and slapped the drink out of your hands, accidentally spilling the contents all over your date.

“Prongs? What the hell?” You exclaimed in surprise. You immediately cast a cleaning spell on Klaus, apologized to him, and turned to face James with a glare on your face.

“I just-,” James wasn’t sure what he should say.

“You just?” You asked him, annoyed.

James didn’t respond anymore and instead just turned on his heels and fled towards Hogwarts, leaving you flabbergasted. You apologized to Klaus again, but he shrugged and got up, offering you his arm. “I’ll escort you back to the castle,” he said. You hesitated. “We don’t have to go,” you said. Klaus chuckled. “Give him hell, dear,” is all he replied while he grabbed your arm and looped it in his.

“James Fleamont Potter, you absolute twat!” You yelled from the top of your lungs, when you reached the top of the staircase that led towards the portrait. The lady in the portrait gave you a sour look, but opened the door anyway when you said the password.

James heard you from all the way up in his dorm, and winced, waiting for you to barge in any moment, which you did. “Why the bloody hell would you do that?!” You stabbed your finger against his chest.

“I didn’t do it on purpose-“

“Not on purpose?! You just happened to stand behind me and couldn’t control your arm when it shot out and slapped the mug straight in his lap?” You exclaimed in disbelief.

“Well, I didn’t mean for it to spill on him.”

“So what, you just wanted to throw it around?!”

“No, I just tried to stop you from drinki-“ James realized his slip up too late. A shiver ran up his spine at the eerie silence.

“And pray tell, why shouldn’t I be drinking the butterbeer that was meant to be for Klaus?” You calmly asked. James flinched at your sharp tone that came out way louder and less calm than you had intended.

He opened his mouth to answer you with a lie when you cut him off. “And think it through, before you tell me any lies,” you squinted your eyes at him.

If he wasn’t absolutely sure that you would shred him to pieces, he would say that you looked cute like that. Luckily, he knew better.

“Because it contained the Laxative Potion which wasn’t meant for you,” James admitted quietly, his face contorting in anticipation for your outburst that never came. You simply closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay,” you shook your head in a disbelieving and disappointed manner.

“Wait!” James called out before you could open the door to leave. He nervously breathed out when you actually stopped and turned around, your face unreadable.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it.”

You slowly nodded your head, knowing that James was usually a little bit too proud to apologize so quickly, if at all. “So why did you?”

“Because I’m jealous,” his words came out quiet.

Your eyes softened at him. “Prongs, you’re my best friend, there’s literally nothing to be jealous of. Is this because of what I said at the start of the year? I was kidding, I’m not going to make any new best friends or replace you, I promise,” you comforted him.

James almost laughed to himself in pity. “No, it’s not because of that,” he mumbled. He looked back up at you. “I,” he hesitated. ‘I’m jealous because he gets to date you and don’t.”

You frowned. “What?”

James’ face started to heat up, but he refused to chicken out again. “I think I’m in love with you.” The words knocked your breath out of your lungs.

“What?”

“I’m in love with you.”

“Yeah, no, I heard you the first time but what? No, you said-, you said that we would never be more than friends. Told me to throw those fantasies away because they’d never be real, so I-“

“I know what I said,” James sighed somberly, but he looked at you with pleading eyes. “If I could take it all back, I would.” You looked conflicted but took a step forward and reached out to him with a sigh.

James shook his head. “I promise you I would, because it was stupid and I’m stupid and I lost all chances and oh Godric, now I’m the arsehole who cost you your date, and I do feel bad about it, but I also don’t regret it because I’m selfish,” James started to ramble in a panic and got lost in his thoughts.

His rambling stopped when you wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace. His heart melted, and he took a deep breath as he closed his eyes, trying to get lost in the feeling. You couldn’t find it in your heart to be so angry with him anymore. Though it was unbelievably immature of him, and the rest of the marauders, no harm was done, and he was sorry.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled in his shoulder, voice muffled.

“What, why are you sorry?”

“Because I know what it feels like to be in your position,” you sadly smiled at him when you pulled back a little to face him. "And it's shite."

He laighed a little at that and wrapped his arms around you again, pressing you back to his chest, chasing after your touch.

“And you don’t love me anymore?” He couldn’t help but ask. His eyes were trained on the wall behind you as he looked over your shoulder, not quite ready to face you when you would inevitably tell him that you didn't.

You shook your head. “Well, I still love you dearly, James. And I care about you so much, I can’t erase those feelings ‘just like that’ in only one summer break. You’re literally one of the most important people in my life.” You buried your face deeper in his neck. “But no, I don’t think I’m in love with you anymore.” You could feel James nod at your words. They were not coming as a surprise at all.

“So, you’ll date Klaus now?” He asked in a small voice, refusing to let you back away from the hug as he was fighting not to cry in defeat.

“Nah, he’s uh, he’s going on a date with Dave tomorrow,” you shrugged.

“Who’s Dave?” He weakly laughed, a little bit unsure but hopeful, and you shook your head. “The waiter.”

“Oh.”

You pushed James away softly and he reluctantly pulled his arms away from you. His eyes looked a little bit bloodshot, and his nose and lips were red. Something about the sight of him pulled you towards him again, this time you settled your hands on both sides of his cheeks which he leaned in to. You made up your mind.

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I was so in love with you, Jamie,” you whispered to him, and his heart tugged. ‘I know,’ he wanted to say.

“You managed to make me fall in love with you,” you pressed on. “You’ve done it before-,’

“-I can do it again,” James finished, his eyes wide in realization and a wide grin crossed his face. “Will you let me? Try, I mean. Can I try to win you back?”

“Well, no promises, but you can give it your best shot, Jamie.” You laughed. “I mean, you’re my type after all,” you teased him. He puffed his chest at your words, his mind racing because he just got another chance to fix the ending of your story, and he sure as hell was going to give it all he’s got.

“So, starting right now?”

“After you’ve apologized to Klaus.”

“Right, yeah. You reckon we could all go on a double date together?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Taglist:

@elsie-bells @charlie-weasley-is-underrated @dreamingofmarauders @moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @hollandweather @queerqueenlynn @locklyebrainrot @thisrandombitch @grac3aph3lion @earfquak3 @venomsvl @shrekscrustybudassy @middle-of-the-earth @sirene-noir @bettytaylorversion @littlepoisonmushroom @faumpje @iloveutwice @katelebate @moonysupremacy01 @marina468 @fangirl-kimora @bellesowl @badasswlthafatass @sjprongs @armydrcamers @its-a-ittle-bit-cold @ireallywannasleep127 @sayukoi @jsjcue @cashtons-wife @idllyastuff @severegiantjudgefriend @ivy-34 @loudflowerss @moonyunebi @caspianobsessed @laraoverthinks @starsanddream @btsw1fe

@prongsprincessworld @littleshadow17 @prongs-moon @bubybubsters @yeolsbubbles

[endlessthxxghts]

Lay Off The Flannels

DBF!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: 1.3k

Summary: Joel gets handsy while your father temporarily steps away.

Warnings: Age gap (unspecified - obviously a legal one though, hello??). No physical description of reader (pic above is used for aesthetic only!). SMUT 18+ MDNI. Oral sex (F receiving). Using a flannel to clean up🫣... Awkward interactions with an oblivious father. Fluffy/light-hearted ending :). I think that's it! Let me know if otherwise!

Author's Note: Hey y'all! Soo my personal definition of a drabble is when something is written and posted on a whim, and that's exactly what I'm doing here.. This was only proof-read once by me, so if you see any typos and confusing wording... NO YA DIDN'T. Anyway, I have a bunch of WIPs needing to get done, but the stress was getting to me, so I took a break from those and wrote this fun little scenario to calm my mind and give me a good little laugh. I hope you guys enjoy!💚

MASTERLIST

“We shouldn’t be-”

“I know,” he says. 

“It’s too risky.”

“I know,” he says. 

You pull his lips back onto yours, breathing in each other’s breaths, consuming each other eagerly as if the world was going to end if you didn’t. 

His lips drag down to your jaw, to the sweet spots on your neck that make you mewl such addicting sounds he’ll never tire of, tasting the product of the hard work you did today with your father. His best friend.

His best friend, who- 

“He should be back any minute now,” you say breathily as Joel drops down to the ground, his knees cracking from the sudden change. 

Joel is desperate. Frantic, even. The speed he unbuttons and unzips your jeans and yanks them—underwear included—off of you has your hands flying to grasp at the edge of the workbench you’re sitting on. “Don’t care,” he says, inhaling in a breath, inhaling your arousal. “Need to fuckin’ taste you.” 

Your father’s car crapped out on him a few days ago, and being the untrustful man he was, he bought the parts that needed replacing to do it himself. He had you working on his car with him, teaching you what to do if you were ever stuck in a similar situation—”It ain’t worth the bill, takin’ it to them mechanics. It’ll cost ya an arm and a leg just for them to diagnose your car’s issue even if you tell ‘em ya know what’s wrong, never mind actually fixin’ it,” he said to you this morning. 

As soon as your father left, Joel was making his way to you, large strides cutting the time in half. His arms wrapped around your waist, picking you up from the seat you were situated on and lifted you to the bench against the wall behind you. His lips were on yours immediately, open-mouthed and needy. His hand slammed onto the black button beside your head, the garage door sliding down thereafter.

Joel grabbed onto your thighs, settling them onto his broad shoulders, stabling you and opening you up to him all in one. Wasting no time, his entire face dives into you, tongue immediately going to your sobbing entrance, hooked nose pushing directly onto your clit. 

“Fuck,” you gasp out loud, “Joel, oh my god,” your head hitting the wall, eyes rolling back. 

The moans you’re feeding Joel has him groaning into you, his hands tightening his grip on the bottom of your thighs, the dull ache of it an indicator that you’ll have bruises forming within the hour. 

His tongue—god, you love his tongue—always reaches places you never thought was possible, offering you a glimpse into Heaven each time he tastes you. The squelch of your pussy and his groans equivalent to that of an angel’s choir. You never want him to stop. Especially because his mouth is the closest to Heaven either of you will ever get. 

Your hole begins to flutter around his tongue, your slick pouring out of you at this point. You’re close. Joel knows it. His tongue leaves your hole and is quickly replaced by two of his fingers, sliding in with ease because of your level of arousal. His tongue meets your clit, licking and circling and absolutely worshiping it as if it’s the most unique of pearls to ever exist. 

The combination of his fingers and his tongue—plus his whimpers—are what do it for you. After a few more circles from his tongue, you’re cumming and you’re cumming hard, your liquids running down his wrist and soaking the rim of his sleeve. He gives one last suck to your clit before he lifts off of it, tilting his head up to watch you come undone, his fingers never pausing as he works you through your climax. 

“Baby,” you’re whining, reaching that point of oversensitivity with his fingers, but your hips betray you as they grind into his hand. 

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, gauging the contradictions of your body’s needs and wants. He slowly pulls his fingers out of you, greedily sucking them into his mouth, not letting a drop of your liquid gold go to waste. 

He stands at full height again, his hands on your thighs to scoot you back from the edge, giving you more stability, so he can let go of you and take his flannel off so he can wipe you down with it. 

He sets his flannel beside you, reaching for your bottoms on the ground. He puts them back on you, gentle as ever, and guides you off the bench—albeit, on some wobbly legs. Once you’re breathing returns to semi-normal, you’re grabbing him by his t-shirt and pulling him in for a heady kiss. Your tongue breaches his mouth, and he lets you in selfishly, sucking on your tongue for anything more you can give him. You taste yourself on him, tangy with a hint of something that lights your neurons on fire, turning you on more even though he just pulled one of the most draining of orgasms out of you. 

Joel pulls away from you, and like clock work, the garage door is whirring open. Your father. He’s walking up the driveway with a Harbor Freight bag. 

“Got what you needed?” you immediately ask, trying to control the topic of conversation. 

“Yeah. Why’d you close the garage?” 

Your eyes widen for a fraction of a second before going back to normal. “The heat was getting a little much. Was gonna open it up when you got back,” you say. 

He nods his head, then looks to Joel. “Hey, bud,” he says as he sets his bag down, walking up to give his best friend a handshake. “What’re ya doin’ here?” he asks, “Not that ya need a reason, of course,” he adds quickly, a light chuckle leaves his mouth. 

“Just thought I’d swing by. Thought your girl here was workin’ on your car all by herself, was gonna make sure the damage was minimal,” he teases, looking at you with a wink. “But now you’re here,” Joel smiles. “I gotta take a leak anyhow, I’ll see y’all later, yeah?” Joel says as he makes his way to the end of your garage. 

Your father offers a quick yeah, his eyes zoning in on the flannel atop his workbench. Before you can stop him, your father grabs it. “Oh, Joel, don’t forget ya flannel,” he says waving it in the air as he lightly jogs to him before he gets too far. Joel’s face immediately flushes, as pale as if he’s seen a ghost, as he realizes what your father is holding. His eyes dart to you, your expression just as traumatized. 

“Oh, y-yeah,” Joel says as he quickly takes it in his grasp, “T-thanks.” 

“Yeah, no problem,” he says as he begins walking back to you, stopping midway to turn back to Joel. “And Joel?” your dad yells out.

Joel turns around, reluctant. 

“Maybe lay off on the flannels during the summer, yeah?? That shit was soaked in sweat!” Your father says as his laugh grows to an uncontrollable level. 

Joel’s jaw drops to the floor as your face turns to absolute terror. 

“Dad!” you exclaim, absolutely stunned at his comment. “I’m done helping you for the day,” you say as you shake your head, gathering your things and heading inside.

Your dad’s laugh turns into a howl at your reaction, not realizing (thankfully) what’s got you so uncomfortable. 

As soon as you make it to your room, the entirety of the situation finally hits you, and you’re gasping for air at how hard you’re laughing. 

As you lay on your bed to try to calm yourself down, your phone rings. It’s Joel. Your laughter immediately starts back up again, and you answer, skipping all forms of introduction.

“Better lay off the flannels, Miller,” you say, barely able to keep it together by the end of your comment. 

“Shut up,” he says, stoic as ever.

A giggle erupts out of you, causing the biggest of butterflies to flutter all throughout his belly. “Can I come over later?” 

“I was expectin’ you to, darlin’.” 

End note: I'm sure there are a few fics out there with a premise similar to this, of reader doin some ✨things✨ with dbf!joel in reader’s dad’s garage 🫣 — I think it's pretty common given that Joel is a pretty laborious kinda guy, so if you've read anything similar, please share them in the comments or message me them! I'd love to read them and also give credit where credit is due. This fic fandom we've created is about spreading creativity, and that's exactly what I would like to do here. :)

Tags: @javierpena-inatacvest @katiexpunk @teatree121 @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @akah565 @pedrostories

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

[delfiore]

—NOTHING IN THE WORLD BELONGS TO ME (BUT MY LOVE).

pairing: aitana bonmatí x reader

synopsis: a picture of you and aitana making out during a team party is leaked online.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: she's my bbg your honor.

“Thank you. Yeah, call me whenever you need to.”

You ended the phone call and groaned into your hand. It was almost dinnertime, but you had no energy left to even think of cooking after being on the phone for literal hours.

Walking into the living room, you found Aitana watching TV, or rather, the screen was on but she was staring into space somewhere.

“Paolo said it’s murky because we were in a public space, but not really ‘cause it was in the hallway. He’s getting paid to win this case though, and that he will,” you said.

Aitana looked at you briefly with a half smile.

She hasn’t talked much since this morning when the news came. You felt guilty for not having sat with her longer, but you needed to get your attorney involved as soon as possible.

“It’ll be okay, babe, I promise,” you sat next to her and put your arm around her shoulder. Still, she seemed tense.

“Is it . . .” Aitana drew a breath, “is it really that bad? That people know about us now?”

You sighed quietly, pulling your arm away to hold her downcast gaze. “It doesn’t matter. They sold those pictures to the press against our will. They infringed on our rights. I thought you understood that.”

Your tone came out harsher than you anticipated. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to . . .”

“No, todo bien.” She shook her head and sat up. “You want takeout or no?”

You mentally cursed at yourself as she turned off the TV. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

You watched her walk over to the island by the kitchen, to pick up her phone.

“Tana,” you said, and she turned around. “Te quiero mucho.”

Aitana mustered up the best smile she could, and you recognized that. She knew you were burdened with the responsibility of talking to attorneys, and you were trying very hard, but she was a bit disappointed that you wanted so badly to stop the pictures from going public. She was never good at the legal part, she didn’t know a lot, but she trusted you to make the right decisions, and she loved you a lot too.

The pictures were taken the night before, while you were out with the team to celebrate another league title win. It was the end of the season, and it would be a few weeks before the summer international break, and your teammates were down to party at a local club for the hard work of another season.

It had been an eventful one, full of trials and tribulations, for you especially. Having undergone a surgery, you were forced to the sidelines for a good chunk of the season. Aitana had been there with you through everything; staying in the hospital after your surgery, preparing your shared home for your foreseeable impediment, reminding you to take your daily meds . . . She was the only reason you were still standing, because the toll the injury took on you physically was a speck compared to how it did on you mentally.

You had gone to get another drink and, upon you returning, found Aitana dancing with some of your teammates on the dance floor. Grinning and shaking your head, you could never get enough of how much of a party animal your girlfriend could become when she was able to. A tint of pink adorned her cheeks when she spotted you and pulled you towards the dance floor with her.

“I’ll take that, thank you,” you pretended to be offended when she took the glass from your hand and took a sip, grimacing as soon as she did. “Ooh! It’s strong!”

“Slow down, baby,” you laughed at her.

Aitana snorted, “lame.” She slung her arm around your neck, as you giggled into her ear. “Come here.”

“Not here,” you shook your head and gently pushed her away.

You could just barely make out a her huff, as she pulled away. “You’re no fun. Let loose for one night, will you?”

A few drinks later, you found yourself with your arm slung around Lucy as the two of you led the disharmonious choir of Barcelona players singing (badly) to the music.

You heard Aitana cackling in the corner as the song finished, doubling over and clapping her hands at your drunken rendition of a Zedd song.

“Let’s go, everyone! Next round’s on me!” You said and your teammates cheered.

Your eyes found your girlfriend by your side, just as she always was, waiting to take care of you and share your happiness.

Her arms wrapped around your neck, pulling you to her, as you felt her laughter vibrate against your chest. You had pulled her away from the main floor and into a secluded hallway, or at least it was what you thought in your drunken haze.

Your lips were pressed against hers hungrily, with passion better saved for the privacy of your shared bedroom rather than a packed nightclub. Aitana let out a trembling sigh, enjoying the sweet taste of your kiss and the push and pull of your hands along her body.

“God, you’re so good to me,” you whispered into her lips. “I love you.”

She was oblivious to the storm that was to come when a club-goer snapped a picture of the two of you. Though the lighting left much to be desired, your features were captured perfectly, and within context, people put two and two together.

Aitana was the first to see the photo when she woke up the next morning. Maybe it’s not so bad, she had told herself, at least people know now.

She only regretted seeing the pure bliss on your face disappear the moment you found the picture online, and you had been on-call with your attorney ever since.

You never really shook off the tension that resided between your eyebrows, in the curl of your upper lip, and your shoulders over the next few days. You, Aitana, and the rest of the team were back in pre-season training, and everyone could tell you were stressing over it. Though you took training seriously, there was always a smile on your face even when someone had beaten you in a drill. Yet now, you scowled and kicked the grass whenever you lost the ball, or whenever someone dribbled past you. It got to the point where you got yourself into a scuffle with Lucy. Aitana had looked over at the commotion, and seen you all up in Lucy’s personal space, arguing with her, as a couple of the assistant coaches had to separate you from her.

Aitana hated the pitiful looks her teammates would give her afterwards. She clenched her jaw and watched Jonatan lead you inside for a talk. She was planning on giving you an earful when she caught you alone, but when you emerged with Jonatan, your eyes were bloodshot like you had been crying.

You refused to talk the entire car ride home, even refusing to look at her, opting to look out the window instead.

The moment you got home, you threw your dirty clothes into the laundry and headed upstairs.

“You want me to reheat leftovers, cariño?” She tried to ask.

“No, thanks,” you didn’t even look back. “I’m just gonna go and take a nap.”

You woke up around 8 pm. Aitana knew because she was downstairs watching TV when you skirted down the stairs like an apparition and crept into the kitchen looking for food.

She took the opportunity when you were distracted with dumping the rest of the content from the Tupperware onto a plate. Snaking her arms around your waist, she pressed her head onto your shoulder. She sighed in relief when she felt the warmth of your right hand encircle her own.

“I embarrassed myself today, didn’t I?” You said quietly.

Aitana pursed her lips and pulled you around to look at her. “That wasn’t very nice, no.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled into her shoulder.

“It’s not me you need to say sorry to,” your girlfriend sighed and hugged you tightly. “We will be okay, my love.”

“I just think about those picture, and I just . . .” You exhaled sharply and buried your nose into her neck. “Fuck, I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Yeah?” Aitana frowned, and cupped your cheeks, leaning in. “Why don’t I distract you for a bit?”

Her lips found yours in a tender kiss. For a moment, you let yourself get lost in the feeling of her touch and her love. Your lips slotted together in a kiss that became more intimate the moment Aitana slipped her hands under your shirt and caressed your pelvis. You groaned as you felt her drag her fingertips towards your back, stretching your waistband and pulling it further out so she could feel further down.

“Fuck . . .” You groaned impatiently, cupping her neck roughly as you used your hips to press her back against the counter.

She was breathless now, one hand in your shorts and the other itching to get your shirt off, but you pulled away before she could do anything.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this today,” you sighed, detaching yourself from her completely to return to making your food.

Aitana watched you put the leftovers into the microwave before leaving you in the kitchen. She understood that you were stressed, but she was thrown off by the way you have been pushing her away the past few days. She knew herself; if she said something, you would say something, and before she knew it things would turn into an argument and someone would say something they didn’t mean.

Pushing the scenario to the back of her head, she headed upstairs to get ready for bed.

In the following days, she felt you pulling away further and further from her. The only times she really saw you were during training, otherwise you would avoid her completely. She spotted you standing in a hallway looking out the window once. Upon approaching you, she noticed you were on the phone with your earbuds in, and against her better judgment, left you be.

Your teammates noticed the sudden rift between you and Aitana too—you two who were always stuck at the hip, you two who turned to each other first in times of victory and defeat, you two whom everyone bet on tying the knot first. Frido was the first to reach out, and had Aitana brushed it off like it was something trivial, but her teammate saw right through the lie. Aitana was Aitana, never asking for help and always having gotten by on her own, but this time her Frido knew it was severe, because Aitana never misses a goal in training, never.

During a match at the weekend, Aitana scored. Usually, she would look to you and jump into your arms to celebrate, but this time, you were already walking back to the halfway line while several of her teammates swarmed her in glee. She felt sick to her stomach, she felt like everything was her fault, and her frustration built and before she knew it, she had stomped on an opponent’s ankle in an attempt to win the ball back. When she realized the weight of the situation, it was already too late; the incident happened just next to the sidelines in front of the assistant referee, and she was shown a red card for using excessive force.

Barcelona won, of course, as they always have, even whilst playing away and down to 10 men. You walked into the dressing room, feeling the on-set fatigue coming on. You glanced at the broken bottle and the puddle of energy drink into one corner of the room, then Aitana sitting in her cubby in the other. You haven’t been very kind to her the past few days, and you doubted that she’d want your comfort anyway because of that. Plus, you weren’t in the mood to talk to her right now; what she did was immature and out of line. What you didn’t know was that she had thrown that bottle across the room and blamed herself, wishing that she’d be able to cry into your arms. Instead, she had pressed her legs to her chest, and hugged herself as she cried alone in that dressing room.

Frido found out, of course; everyone has their breaking point eventually, even the strongest and most resilient. Frido told Ingrid, Ingrid told Mapi, Mapi got angry, and confronted you one day.

In her fury—and maybe in yours too—you didn’t make out everything she hurled at you, but you recognized an insulting word when you heard one. Instead of turning away like you had initially intended, you turned around and lunged at her.

“What did you say to me?! Say it again. I dare you!”

Frido had to drag you away, and it was her stern look alone that de-escalated the situation.

“She started it first!” You shoved her away as you took deep breaths through the worst of your anger.

“She was right to call you that, Y/N. You are a fucking asshole,” she said. You turned around, expecting her to apologize, but you saw no trace of remorse.

“What the fuck?”

“You’re an asshole. You don’t even notice your girlfriend is suffering.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “What did she tell you? That I’ve been busy trying to get these fucking pictures taken down? Because someone violated my privacy? Her privacy? Because I won’t pay attention to her for one goddamn second?”

The Swede scoffed and shook her head. “Listen to yourself. You’ve become despicable. I understand that you’re going through a hard time, but so is Aitana. People are talking about her too. You don’t think she’s also stressed out? She won’t ask you for help because she’s Aitana and she would never ask anyone for help. You knew that better than anyone, yet you’ve left her all alone, you asshole!”

Frido was yelling at you, scolding you like a child. Your anger bubbled, but it soon turned into guilt when her words sunk in.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, Y/N. Aitana deserves the respect that everyone has given her, except you.”

She pushed past you roughly, and you felt the weight of her scolding. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and it was an incoming text from your lawyer.

“We have grounds to press charges, and we’ll most likely win if you choose to do so. Let me know what you and Aitana decide on.”

“Fuck”, you locked your phone with an impending need to throw it into the window pane in front of you.

This was what you wanted ever since you saw that picture on Twitter, but now you weren’t sure if it was the right course of action anymore. Your insistence on press charges has made you become a rotten human being, and looking back at the last few days, you didn’t recognize this person you have become. Picking fights with your teammates, being a sore loser in training games, abandoning Aitana. You had no idea what she was thinking the past few days, and it scared you. She used to tell you everything.

Your knees gave out below you, and you felt the exhaustion from the last week come crashing down. You took a seat on a nearby bench and cradled your head in your hands. There was the sound of studs clicking evenly against the ground beside you before the bench strained under the weight of another body.

Looking up you saw Mapi leaning against the bench looking at you with a soft expression.

You were too tired to fight, but you didn’t think Mapi was here to continue where you both left off before, which was why it surprised you that she was here.

“Sorry for calling you a cabró,” she said casually, looking away.

“You’re not wrong,” you muttered. “I am a cabró, the biggest cabró there ever was.”

You felt her strong hand on your shoulder. “Todos cometen errores, amiga. Se trata de si intentas enmendarlo o no. Entonces, ¿lo harás?” (”Everyone makes mistakes, bud. It’s about whether you try to make up for it or not. So, will you?”)

You pursed your lips, finding comfort in Mapi’s generosity. “Where’s Aitana?”

"Viene a casa para pasar la noche con nosotros. Te sugiero que le des espacio y uses este tiempo para reflexionar sobre tus acciones también.” (“She's coming home to stay overnight with us. I suggest you give her some space and use this time to reflect on your actions too.”)

You nodded as Mapi gave you one last pat on the shoulder before taking her leave. You were glad to have friends such as Mapi, Ingrid, and Frido. In your egotism, at least Aitana still had your friends.

Upon returning to an empty home, you felt creeping in a sense of loneliness that you haven’t felt in a long, long time. The last time you felt like this, Barcelona had just won its first ever Champions League in the women’s club history, and you had gone home by yourself after a night out celebrating. Playing in a foreign country, you didn’t feel so isolated until you witness your teammates celebrating wins with their family, friends, and significant others. Your loneliness was short-lived though, as it was Aitana that came knocking on your door, wanting to stay with you. It was the night of your first kiss, and the night from which you hadn’t felt lonely ever since.

There hasn’t been a text or call from Aitana at all, and you knew you had fucked up big time.

“Can’t begin to say how sorry I am for the way I’ve been treating you,” you texted her. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll pick you up from Mapi’s and there will be love waiting for you at home.”

You spent the rest of the night watching TV, keeping your phone by your side at all times in case your girlfriend wanted to reach you, but the screen stayed black the entire time.

At Mapi and Ingrid’s, Aitana was laughing at something Mapi had said. The three women were slightly buzzed from the wine they had drunken earlier at dinner, and Aitana had felt lighter than she has the entire week. She saw your text as soon as it was sent to her phone, but opted not to response for her own peace of mind. Despite her heart still aching when she thought about the way you acted, she couldn’t help the little smile that made its way onto her lips reading it.

She will always be able to find it in her somewhere to love you, and she could only hope that you could do the same for her because she would rather go through thunderstorms with you than lie in a field of roses with someone new.

You jolted as you thought you might have forgotten the house keys when you walked up to Mapi and Ingrid’s. Patting your back pocket, you were quickly reassured that you had them with you, as you made a mental note of where everything was.

Ingrid opened the door for you with a smile, and invited you inside.

“Pretty flowers,” she said, gesturing at the large bouquet you had in your hands.

You smiled proudly and muttered a ‘thank you’. You eyes quickly found your girlfriend conversing with Mapi by the kitchen island, and your heart began beating wildly.

Her eyes landed on you, as you had half-expected a disapproving frown and her ignoring you to carry on her conversation. Instead, she offered you a smile and walked towards you.

“Hi,” you said. Attempting to say any more than that and you risked looking like a blabbering buffoon from the mess of a mind you had.

“Hi,” she mirrored your tone in a teasing manner. “Is that for me?”

“Oh, yeah. Here you go,” you handed her the bouquet and said goodbye to Mapi and Ingrid.

“Thank you,” you whispered to the both of them after Aitana had gotten into the car. The ride home was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. You would look over once in a while, seeing her watch the scenery flash by through the window. At a red light, you gathered the courage to reach out and grab her hand. This elicited a giggle from the girl, as you brought her hand up to kiss the back of it just as the light turned green.

Aitana stopped by the door the moment she saw your apartment. It was spotless, everything was clean and tidy, and lit by the few lamps you had chosen to leave on, casting a warm glow over the entire place. The dinner table had been set like it belonged in a high-end restaurant, with a white tablecloth set perfectly across the middle and a few candles to highlight.

“I got antsy at home, so I decided to clean up a bit. Hopefully, it doesn’t look too sterile,” you laughed and scratched the back of your neck.

“No, it’s . . . it’s perfect.”

You smiled bashfully and offered to take the flowers for her. There was hesitancy in the way you stepped away from her to prepare the bouquet to put them in a vase like the distance might dilute this warm air between you. You didn’t want to be away from her for too long; you had suffered the past couple of days without her.

When you returned, Aitana was on the couch on her phone. From the way she instantly looked up from it as she heard you coming in, you reckoned she was nervous too. You placed the vase on the dinner table and took a seat next to her.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“I know,” Aitana said, and stroked your head.

Taking a deep breath, you put your head on her lap, and tried to steady your breathing.

“I’m sorry for taking my anger out on you. You didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry for leaving you alone.” You spewed, trying your very best to form coherent words out of the thoughts that have been racing in your head for days. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me. You’ve always been so good to me, and I hate myself for not doing the same for you when it mattered.”

Aitana was quiet, but from the way her breath trembled as she drew it, you could tell she was trying not to cry, and it made you tear up too.

You sat up and held her gaze. “I won’t let something that was out of my hands destroy us. I may not be able to control it when someone posts a picture of us, but I can control how I react to it.”

“What did Paolo say?” Aitana questioned.

“That we’ll win if we press charges, but I’m tired of letting this consume me. So I’ll let you decide whether we do or not.”

Aitana pursed her lips. “I don’t think it’s worth it. I’m sorry we weren’t able to tell the world about us ourselves, but I’m glad it’s out there now.”

You nodded and smiled at her, “I’m so sorry.”

Shaking her head, she pulled you into her chest. “I forgive you,” she planted a kiss on your forehead. “You’re my love. I love you so much. I didn’t want to burden you.”

You nodded, unable to hold back the tears this time. “Don’t be scared to talk to me next time. I’ll always be here to listen from now on.”

Aitana wiped her tears away, and nodded, bringing you in for a soft kiss. She whispered repeatedly how much she loved you, and you could only silently thank the universe for giving you the love of such a good woman.

You spent the rest of the evening in her arms as you discussed how things could be better in your relationship, and when dinner time rolled around, the two of you went into the kitchen to prepare food together.

At the end of the night, you posted a picture of Aitana on your Instagram story. ‘My love mine all mine’, you had captioned it, before putting your phone on silent. The mayhem was looming, but you may just have enough to power through the sudden limelight that was waiting to point toward you, and those hazel eyes made it all worth it.

[saturnville]

stolen moments, major john egan

pairing: major john "bucky" egan x black fem oc (amelia mae egan)

content: john manages to call amelia after not hearing her voice for weeks.

an: this was the top choice in the poll so far. I've been anxious to write so we knocked this off the list first lol. enjoy!

“Are you alright, Major?” 

They’d just arrived at a new station. It smelled like sweat and fear. Men streamed throught the doors like a school of fish. Their deep voices shook the brick walls as their conversations bellowed throughout the building. Dozens of men struggled to keep their composure. He was one of them.

He was overwhelmed. Tired. Desparate. His clothes felt tight against his body. The scent of gasoline and fumes clung to his vest. His hat damp and chilled against his forehead. His shoes were coated in black soot.

John’s eyes caught the telephone in the corner of the station. It was secluded from the rest of the quarters, in a corner, protected by a frosted glass divider. John's shoes grazed the dirty floor as he strode purposefully towards the telephone.

“M’fine. Head in and get your rest. Long day in the morning.” He didn’t know how he was able to make out coherent sentences. Gale stepped in, noticing his friend’s disheveled state and guided the men to the resting quarters. 

John’s shoes kissed the dirty floor as he stood long strides to the telephone. He shrugged off his backpack and slid it by his feet. His hands trembled as he plucked the phone off the hook and typed in the number he had engraved in his heart. 

It rang. And rang. And rang. His heartbeat was in his ears. His nails scratched as the black paint around the phone as he succumbed to his anxiety. He sent a silent prayer to God above. 

Then he heard it. “Hello?” John’s forehead tapped the frosted glass as he rested against it. Relief washed over him like a tidal wave. He’d never been particularly sensitive, but he was overwhelmed with emotion, good and bad, and hearing her sweet voice made his eyes well with tears. 

The words were stuck in his throat and all he could release was a heavy sigh. That seemed to be enough for her to identify the caller. “Johnny?” 

He shut his eyes. A lone tear fell from his eye. “Hey, Rosie.”

Amelia let out a soft cry. “Oh, thank God! I-I thought something happened to you; I hadn’t heard from you in weeks. Are you okay, where are you now? Is Gale alright, when are you coming…” His first instinct was to cut her rambling short, but the sound of her voice was the choir-like song his soul ached to hear. 

He’d gone three weeks without hearing her voice. It was the most tortuous three weeks of his life. For 21 days, he survived by remembering the last words she said before they hung up, Whatever you do, do not die on me, do you understand? I love you, John. I love you. I love you. I love you. It kept his heart beating.

A small smile tugged on his lips. “I’m okay, baby, I promise. Things got a little rough; didn’t stay in one place too long. I didn’t mean to scare you.”  

“I’m just happy to hear your voice…are you okay?” 

His stomach churned at her question. A feeling of despair threatened to creep upon him. Thirty men lost. A plane in the middle of the ocean. An uneasy stomach and even more uneasy mental state. His head pounded, his body shook with unwanted adrenaline, and his hands craved the feeling of her hot skin. He was not okay. 

“No,” he replied honestly, rubbing his eye with the stump of his palm. “I’m not okay but I will be. Especially because I get to talk to my favorite girl. Tell me about your day..”

He heard her heavy sigh. “Deflection won’t rid you of what you’re feeling.” 

“Talking about it won’t do too much good, either. It’s…it’s hard, Rose. I just.” John’s jaw clenched as he struggled to articulate what he felt. “I just can’t talk about it right now, Amelia. If I do, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep it together.” 

Silence stretched on, interrupted only by the sound of her shuffling on the other end. She was probably sitting at the edge of her bed. He imagined her, looking pretty in her long-sleeved pajamas and satin scarf, with a blanket tucked under her chin.

“Then how about this,” she started. “You make it home in one piece to tell me about it later, yeah?” 

“Always making demands,” John laughed. The first genuine sound of joy he’d made all day. And it made her smile. So wide that her cheeks were sore and her dimples made an appearance. “But you’ve got a deal.” He readied himself to speak again, but a tap on his shoulder interrupted him. 

Gale. Meeting with the CO in five minutes, he mouthed. John nodded. He ran a hand through his dirty hair. “Darlin’, I’ve got a meeting in five minutes; I’m sorry.  If I don’t call in the morning, know I love you, alright?” 

“I know. I love you, too. Don’t apologize. Just make it back to me.”

“Always.”

[glossamerfaerie]

One aspect of Gwynriel that really excites me is religion. The other protagonists don’t seem to take religion or rituals very seriously? Everyone respects the Mother and acknowledges her power (and the Cauldron), but we haven’t explored faith among the fae. Feyre has a terrible experience with Ianthe (a sadly accurate depiction of corruption within organized religion). But we know that not all priestesses are like power-hungry Ianthe. Nesta is understandably indifferent even though she later has an experience with the Mother during Nyx’s birth. Rhys and Cassian seem respectful but we’ve never seen them pray or attend services. It’s giving “only attending church during Christmas” level of religious commitment.

Azriel, on the other hand… we haven’t had much canon insight in his head, but I firmly believe that Azriel is more religious than his brothers. Like he’s not the type to attend temple services, but he probably thinks about faith and the Mother regularly. Clearly he has contemplated mating bonds and who creates them — maybe he’s prayed for a mating bond? Maybe his mother raised him to be more religious. In HOFAS, after Nesta takes the mask off in a close call, Az’s very first instinct is to thank the Mother. Possibly that is meaningless (like how an atheist can say “thank god”) but idk. Az seems to have more faith than his brothers.

“The Mask fell from Nesta’s face, clattering on the stone.

Nesta swayed, but Azriel was there, catching her, bringing her to his chest, scarred hands stroking her hair. “Thank the Mother,” he breathed. “Thank the Mother.”

A few chapters later, Az describes the Cauldron and what happens after death.

“Bryce nodded to the carving. “What’s the big deal about a cauldron?”

“The Cauldron,” Azriel amended. Bryce shook her head, not understanding. “You don’t have stories of it in your world? The Fae didn’t bring that tradition with them?”

Bryce surveyed the giant cauldron. “No. We have five gods, but no cauldron. What does it do?”

“All life came and comes from it,” Azriel said with something like reverence. “The Mother poured it into this world, and from it, life blossomed.”

Later in the conversation, Az explains what happens to souls after death.

“When you die, where do your souls go?” Did they even believe in the concept of a soul? Maybe she should have led with that.

But Azriel said softly, “They return to the Mother, where they rest in joy within her heart until she finds another purpose for us. Another life or world to live in.”

The way Az talks about the Mother, with reverence and confidence, makes me certain that he’s more religious than his brothers.

Then, of course, we have Gwyn — a literal priestess who was raised in a temple. She still attends daily services and sings for the choir. I’ve wondered if what happened in Sangravah shook Gwyn’s faith. Maybe she thinks the Mother exists but isn’t a benevolent deity. Maybe she’s bitter that the Mother didn’t save her servants from Hybern attacks. She definitely feels shame and unworthiness — Gwyn no longer feels like she has a right to wear the Invoking Stone. Working through those feelings will be a major aspect of Gwyn’s arc.

“You asked me once why I don’t wear the hood or the Invoking Stone. That stone is a sign of holiness. How can someone like me wear it?”

Within the temple, Gwyn also faces prejudice and discrimination from her fellow sisters. Ianthe isn’t the only asshole within the organization (cough Merrill cough). I’m sure that some people in Sangravah were cruel to Gwyn’s family because of their nymph heritage. I don’t know what SJM has planned, but I feel that religion will play a major role in the Gwynriel book. I wouldn’t be surprised that, like Nesta, Gwyn has a firsthand experience with the Mother. She will definitely use the blue invoking stone for healing (a nice parallel to Az’s blue siphons).

“It’s an Invoking Stone.” Gwyn unfurled her fingers, revealing the gem within her hand. “Similar to the Siphons of the Illyrians, except that the power of the Mother flows through it. We cannot use it for harm, only healing and protection. It was shielding us.”

I’m also curious to see Gwyn and Az discuss their religious beliefs together. Maybe Az gets permission to join the dawn and dusk services. The man barely sleeps, he might as well watch Gwyn during her religious commitments. The shadows are NOT going to pass a chance to hear their girl sing (or watch her glow). Maybe Nesta can talk Az into singing with the choir. 🥹

Nesta could only gape at the lovely melody, the voices from the front of the cavern leading it, lifting higher than the others. Gwyn sang, chin high, a faint glow seeming to radiate from her. The music was pure, ancient, by turns whispering and bold, one moment like a tendril of mist, the next like a gilded ray of light. It finished, and Merrill spoke about the Mother and the Cauldron and the land and sun and water. She spoke of blessings and dreams and hope. Of mercy and love and growth.

Idk, maybe I’m wrong about Az being religious. But it feels like such a wasted opportunity if we don’t learn more about the Mother! At the very least, I do see Az attending the dawn and dusk services if he’s not on a mission. 🎼🩵🎶

[dulc3vida]

durazno

pope heyward x lamb!reader

content warning: a peach gets violated, blasphemy, the good stuff. 18+ read at your own risk.

2.4k words

Pope Heyward is not a religious man. He’s a man of science. He likes tangible things that can be studied and understood.

No matter how much he tried explaining that to Heyward, it didn’t matter. As long as he lived under their roof it meant he had to put on his best dress shirt and slacks every Sunday to go to church. It wasn’t all bad. Everyone was really nice there and the music was pretty good.

His favorite part of church is you. The preacher's daughter. Always at the front of the choir, soft voice singing “Christ Be Our Light” and other hymns. You’re truly an angel. You always helped lead the kids out of mass into their Sunday school classrooms. You always volunteered with the food bank and at the animal shelter. You even tutored after school at the public library.

It’s a self indulgent fantasy, Pope thinking he could have you in any way. You’re kook royalty, right up there next to the Camerons. Even if social status wasn’t an issue, a girl like you would never go for him. He reminded himself of that fact every time you caught him staring and smiled demurely from across the pews. You’re a nice girl, you smile at everyone.

Pope, unfortunately, always managed to look away before he could catch your eyes lingering and your teeth sinking into your plush bottom lip as you stared at him with curiosity.

After hurricane Agatha, you suggested to your father the church should gather resources to help with relief. You were surprised at his reluctance and you recited bible verses until you turned blue, not taking no for an answer. “Love thy neighbor, daddy. You taught me that.” He held out for a while, but nevertheless he agreed so long as you helped organize.

You rallied the support of all the kooks, gathering donations. They could never say no to you, even if they didn’t necessarily want to help provide aid to the inhabitants of the cut. You got on your dad’s boat with a group of volunteers from church and set sail for the mainland, returning with tons of food and other necessities. It took an entire day for your group to get all the care packages ready and to assign groups to specific addresses.

When delivery day came around, you made sure one specific address was reserved just for you. Your dad made himself clear that he didn’t want you wandering around the cut by yourself but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, you thought to yourself as your bike rode up the gravel driveway of Heyward’s. You prayed the night before that Pope would be there and God answered. Pope was on the dock, spraying some buckets clean with a hose. His striped button down open and his bare chest on display, making your heart pound in your chest. He doesn’t turn around to look at you when he hears you approaching.

“Almost done, Pops. Just got a few more.”

“Hi, Pope.” You greet, lacing your words with sweetness.

Pope whipped around at the sound of your voice. “Hey-Hi.” His face burns as he stutters over a basic greeting. It didn’t help that you were staring into his soul with your big brown eyes like a lost little lamb. “Can I help you with anything?” He asked, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. He almost thinks you’re checking him out.

“No.” You shake your head, soft waves cascading over your shoulders. There is an awkward silence, neither of you knowing what to say until you remember the bags in your hands. “I brought this… For your family… It’s from the church. You know, relief. It’s not much-”

“This is great, thank you.” Pope took one of the bags and then noticed the other one in your hands. “What's that?”

“Uhm… Peaches. For you.” You held the bag out, intentionally letting your fingers linger on his. “My dad went to Georgia last week for a church thing. These are my favorite.” You licked your lips as you watched him pull one out of the bag and dig his teeth into the flesh of the fruit. You wondered what it would feel like to be the peach.

Pope didn't know if he just wanted the fruit to taste good or if it was actually that good because he practically moaned at the taste. “This is the best peach I’ve ever had.” It made you laugh and it sounded like a melody. He could only imagine that you tasted just as good. “Thank-”

The sound of JJ hooting and hollering alerted both of your attentions. “Come on, loverboy! We gotta get a move on!” He called from the HMS Pogue.

“I should go.” You smiled at him warmly. “Bye, Pope. Have a blessed day.” You called out to his friends, waving as you turned to get back on your bike.

“You too, sweetheart!” JJ called back, earning a slap to the arm from John B.

“Don't be a creep, dude.”

“What? I was just being nice?”

Pope watched you swing your leg over your bike, the wind catching your skirt and blowing it upwards just enough to reveal your cotton white panties. JJ nearly broke his neck trying to get a better look.

“Pervs…” Kie rolled her eyes. “That's the preacher's daughter, you know that right?”

“I know.” A smirk spread over JJ’s face. “Church girls are always the freakiest. You know, pent up sex feels? Bet she humps her pillow every night starin’ at a cross-”

“Okay, that's enough.” Pope finally turns around once he is sure his hardening dick isn’t visible. “Let's go.”

“Ooh, peaches?” John B wiggled his fingers together and reached for the bag but Pope yanked it away. “Oh come on, there's at least 12 in there. Are you on your way to be in a math problem?” Pope sighed and tossed one at John B. He turned to Kiara and JJ who were sitting on their knees, groveling like dogs. They each get a peach tossed at them.

“That's what I’m talking about.” JJ bit his peach. “She's totally into you.”

“No, she's not. She's just being nice.”

“Hey, John B? You get any Georgia peaches in your care package?” He looked at the label on the fruit before biting the peach again.

“Nah. You?”

“Nah. Want my advice?” JJ tossed the pit of his peach into the water.

“I really don't-” Pope shook his head, taking control over the wheel of the HMS.

“Try that door. I guarantee it's unlocked for you.”

Pope was usually a sound sleeper. His dreams were never too scary and he was always able to fall asleep once he focused on his breathing for a bit. Tonight was different.

Every time he closed his eyes he saw you.

He couldn’t help it. You invaded his mind the second he stepped into your fathers church. When he raised his hand in worship it was always for you. As far as Pope was concerned, God wasn’t real. You were real. Someone he could genuinely worship and devote himself to completely. Selfishly. You were the lamb and he was the pathetic, cowardly lion.

Pope sat up in bed and looked around his room tiredly until his eyes stopped on the bag of peaches. He wasn’t sure why he brought them into his room but he knew he would regret it in the morning. He got out of bed and grabbed a peach before lying back in bed. He pressed a finger against its center, obscenely digging his finger inside and pulling out the pit.

Juice dripped onto his chest and onto his chin as he sucked all the fruit off the pit before tossing it aside, moving the peach down his boxers. It was a tight fit and it made him screw his eyes shut. It didn’t help.

All it took was 3 strokes and the image of the faint outline of your pussy through your panties and he was biting his hand to muffle the sound of his orgasm. He set the peach on his nightstand feeling the need to take a cold, cold shower before he went to bed.

In the morning, Pope felt guilty. Pope is not a religious man but something about what he had done made him feel the need to seek penance. He needed to face some kind of punishment, even if it meant confessing that he fucked a peach to the thought of the preacher’s daughter.

The only spot in the world where you could truly be yourself was the confessional. No one came to confess as much as they needed so it was only really ever used on occasions that called for it. You liked coming to the church on the days where no one was there except your father doing paperwork in his office. It was the perfect place to read books your parents wouldn’t approve of. From medieval torture methods to smut. Anything mildly taboo that you could sneak out of the public library. You always returned the books and repented.

Today, you were halfway through A Certain Hunger when you heard the doors of the church creak open. You peek out of the door and immediately close it. Pope is making his way towards the booth.

He steps inside and closes the door, not daring to look towards who he thinks is the minister. Instead, he closes his eyes. “Forgive me father, for I have sinned.” Pope inhales sharply when there is no response. He takes it as permission to continue. “I gave into temptation and lust. I… I…” Pope didn’t know how to describe it. “I… committed a sex act… with a peach. I feel incredibly guilty and it’s not the act that I feel most guilty about but who I was thinking about during it. I feel like I violated her in some way and-”

“Was it me?” Your soft voice made his heart drop. He thinks he’s hallucinating. It was silent for a minute before you repeat yourself. “Were you thinking about me, Pope?”

Pope took another moment before responding. “Yes.” He was mortified at your silence. “I’m really, really sorry-” He was cut off by the sound of your door opening and shutting. His mind raced with the possibility of you running to your father ready to tell him what a sick deviant he is.

Instead, the door to his side of the confessional opened and you closed the door behind yourself.

“Hi.” You practically whispered, a smile playing on your face that you were trying to hide. “Did you, really?” He nods, afraid to speak. “I’m sorry.”

Pope has to blink a few times to digest your words. “Why?”

“I was tempting you.” You confess, thinking on everytime you would give Pope a coquettish glance or your bold move wearing a skirt you knew would show your panties off with one breeze. He stared at you inquisitively. “I’ve been trying to seduce you. I’m sorry I led you to sin.” You knelt before him. “Recently, I have been overcome with lustful thoughts about you. I… I use the thought of you for pleasure.” Your confession was sending all blood in Pope’s brain straight down to dick. “I don’t think you deserve any penance.” Your voice quieted to a whisper before you carefully reached to touch his bulge. Pope made no move to stop you.

“What are you doing?” He questions, voice strangles at the feeling of your hand rubbing against his dickprint. You looked up at him, the same way you look when you take the body of christ into your mouth.

“Paying my penance.” You slip your hand down his pants and stroke his already hard cock. His skin is soft and it’s a little bit curved. Your mouth waters at the feel. You do what you read in your books, pumping your hand up and down slowly. You were enjoying this.

Pope’s breath gets caught in his throat. “Wait… Are you sure we should do this?”

“I can stop if you want…” You pulled him out of his pants, admiring how pretty his dick is in your hand. “But, remember Pope… The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not be in want. Neither should you.” You sink your mouth onto him and he feels like he is in heaven. “We can always repent. Love covers a multitude of sins and God loves us.” You reassure him, taking him back into your mouth.

Pope feels like he’s on fire from his head to his toes. His head rests against the wall as you bob your head up and down his length. He’s not a religious man, but this is the closest he has come to truly feeling God’s presence. He looks down at you and you are already staring at him, mouth full as you choke down as much as you can. You gag around him and come up for air, gasping as you kitten lick his tip before taking his tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it.

You look beautiful. Your eyes never left him. Your hair stuck to your forehead from sweat and your eyes were all watery and glassy. You even had your heel between your legs, rocking back and forth on it. You moaned and it sent vibrations all through his cock. He wanted to worship you the same way you were worshiping him. He was praying for the strength to stay silent as his eyes roam the walls, staring at the intricate cross motifs carved into the wood panels. He had never felt the watchful eye of God until now.

It was truly a miracle he lasted as long as he did because it didn’t take much longer before he was trying to pull you off. “I’m gonna-” He panted out, breathing becoming ragged. You didn’t want to come off though. You forced yourself down until your nose touched the base of his cock. You could feel him pulsing as it all shot down your throat.

Pope almost screamed when you kept sucking after he came. You came up, pressing kisses against his dick. Neither of you spoke while you put him back in his pants and then nuzzled his leg, wanting attention like a needy lamb. He pet your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

“Did you throw the peach away?” Pope shakes his head no. “Can I have it?”

this was unhinged and very self indulgent :p hope u like!

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

taedros tresdros

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

part one: taedros taedros ☆ part two: taedros twodros wc: 2.2k reader: afab reader (pretty sure no specific gender mentioned but putting this disclaimer just in case!) warnings: smut 18+; MINORS DNI!!! -- specific warnings under the cut -- also some angst and some fluff :) summary: uh-oh... you fell for your best friend taerae. but was it all in vain after he's ghosted you the past two weeks? *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ITS DONEEE! you will notice i've went with "taedros tresdros" for the title. decided to keep all three parts with taedros as the first word lol. this is the finale for this little series and i really hope you like this ending i've made lol. i am so happy you've all enjoyed taedros taedros -- stay tuned for more works soon (hopefully) xx

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

warnings: 18+ explicit smut, fingering and oral (reader receiving), cumming in pants, eavesdropping/voyeurism by reader but it's only out of shock/anger, swearing, lots of innuendo in this one lmao... i think that's it!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

“so, the ring finger goes here?” you hear a feminine voice ask; ear pressed gently to taerae’s door to hear better. just a few moments ago, you’d been taking deep, steadying breaths as you walked through the entrance to your best friend’s dorm building on your way to finally confront him.

something that was so familiar now made your heart race with anxiety. 

but when you’d rounded the corner to taerae’s room, you were surprised to find the door shut almost all the way. usually taerae left his door wide open, even when he was playing the guitar or getting changed or sleeping. in fact, his dorm-mates told you one night when you were leaving that the only time taerae made an effort to close it was when you were over... you couldn’t hear any noise coming from his room, which made you all the more curious as to what was going on in there. 

walking up to his door, you’d seen it was propped open just a bit by one of taerae’s shoes. you couldn’t see through the gap in the door, but you’d heard quiet murmurings from inside and gently placed your ear to the door to listen closer. the sound of a girl’s voice had completely shocked you. especially considering what you’d come here to talk about with taerae.

“yeah, it might take a bit to find the sweet spot,” taerae answers with a chuckle; his answer causing your jaw to drop. fingers? sweet spots? what the fuck is going on in there!?

“mmm, thank you again for teaching me, taerae,” the voice responds. upon closer listening, you realize you know this voice. it belongs to your world history classmate, jinah-- the girl who sits behind you and doodles the entire period. she’s very nice-- pretty and athletic, too, but...

you didn’t really think taerae was her type.

you hadn’t spoken to taerae much in the last couple weeks. ever since you’d actually slept together... things had changed. it felt like your best friend was avoiding you. when you’d texted to ask about movie night the past two fridays, taerae had said he was busy with homework both times. normally taerae would meet you for lunch in the student union every other day in between his music theory class, but he hadn’t come by since then. he’d barely said two words to you at choir practice last night.

was this why? he’d decided he liked jinah instead? he couldn’t face you after... using you? 

taerae would never do that. not to you. probably not to anyone.

then again, you’d never talked about whether what was going on between you was exclusive or not. and what it meant to you; what he meant to you. had you completely misinterpreted this whole situation?

“and the middle finger...” jinah trails off and the mental picture you have unfortunately painted in your head of the scene taking place is enough to make you gag.

“that one’s gonna reach as far up as possible,” taerae explains. if you had known your best friend was offering masturbation classes out of his dorm room, you probably would’ve been more careful about where you were sitting on his bed.

“i don’t think i can reach that far,” jinah huffs with a frustrated sigh. “it kind of hurts.”

“relax,” taerae soothes. “it’ll feel better if you relax.”

your hand flies to your mouth to muffle the sound of the audible gasp that escapes you, but your elbow hitting the door blows your cover. you stand up quickly as taerae’s door swings open-- revealing you in the doorway to taerae and jinah.

... and revealing jinah sitting on taerae’s bed and holding a guitar (quite clumsily, if you may be so brazen) in her hands; taerae sitting next to her and seemingly offering some sort of instruction.

“you--...” you stutter, surprised and also incredibly relieved to find that the lessons taerae was giving were much more wholesome than you’d been forced to imagine for the past few minutes. “oh thank fuck holy shit.”

as the uncontrollable string of grateful curse words leaves your mouth, jinah clears her throat awkwardly and stands up; removing the guitar strap from around her neck and handing the instrument to its owner.

“sorry for interrupting,” you mumble, bottom lip finding its way between your teeth as taerae glares at you. 

“no, it’s okay! i have to finish an essay for tomorrow anyway,” jinah replies, picking up her bag and walking towards the door. you step to the side for her to get by, awkwardly smiling as she calls behind her, “thank you, taerae! see you next week!”

jinah retreats down the hallway, leaving just you and taerae alone in a tense silence.

“what are you doing here?” taerae asks, rather unceremoniously. “it’s a thursday night. you have tutoring on thursday nights. that's why we have movie night on fridays.”

you nod, still leaning against the doorframe. “my last appointment cancelled so i--... i wanted to come talk to you.”

“oh,” taerae replies with a nod. “okay.”

you frown. “okay?”

“yeah,” he says, looking down at his guitar in his hands; starting to strum it lightly. “okay.”

your eyebrows raise in shock as your best friend seemingly shrugs you off. you walk over to him and snatch the guitar from his hands by its neck.

“HEY!” he protests as you bring the instrument over to its stand and place it there annoyedly (but carefully; you’re not an asshole). “i was playing that.”

“what the fuck is the matter with you!?” you snap, turning back around to face him. “you’ve been avoiding me for two weeks!”

taerae visibly gulps; eyes falling to the floor. 

“and this is how you’re gonna act?” you scold, folding your arms across your chest. “after we...”

for some reason you’re unable to say it. taerae is silent-- seemingly holding his breath as he waits for you to continue. coward.

“i came here to talk to you about everything and--... and then i heard you through the door giving jinah a fucking guitar lesson,” you explain while rolling your eyes. “better than the lesson i thought you were giving her, but...”

taerae looks up at you now; brow furrowed as his head tilts to the side confusedly. “w--... what kind of a lesson did you think i was giving her?”

you blink back at him; unsure of whether to tell the truth or not. but taerae catches on before you can commit to a lie.

his jaw drops in shock. “you thought--... did you think--”

you look down at your feet: embarrassed, anxious, and just plain sad after the events of the last couple weeks. this mixture of emotions forms a lump in your throat that you are now hopelessly trying to suppress. “i’m really sorry for interrupting. and for listening a bit. i just don't know what happened. i thought we were--... i thought you felt the same way that i did, but... you just must be really upset with me and i don’t know what i did but i’m so sorry and i really miss you so i wanted to talk to you and i just was... i dunno, i thought--”

taerae cuts off your rambling by standing up and wrapping his arms around you tightly. against your neck, he soothes, “ssh, baby. it’s okay-- it’s all okay. i promise.”

“i like you,” you confess into taerae’s sweatshirt. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know this would happen. but i really like you, tae.”

"fuck-- i like you, too. of course i like you, too,” he says, pulling back to look at you. “and this is all my fault.”

you sniffle as you ask, “what did you do this time?”

“something really, really stupid,” he replies with a sad smile.

mirroring his expression, you quip, “what else is new?” 

“yeah, yeah,” he accepts with a laugh. cupping your cheek in his hand, he runs his thumb across the skin sweetly. “i thought i was the one who fucked up... by falling for you.”

“... oh,” is all you can manage to say.

“oh is right,” he says, leaning in and kissing your lips gently. “i honestly wasn’t sure what to do about it. i didn’t want to hurt you and i thought maybe just... avoiding you for a bit would make it easier for me to stop having feelings for you. but it didn’t. it just hurt you and me more-- and it was really immature. i’m so sorry.”

you wrap your arms around his neck, having forgiven your idiot of a best friend before he even apologized. “i missed you so much.”

“i missed you more,” taerae says, peppering your cheeks with kisses. you giggle; taerae grinning before attaching his lips to yours again.

“but, um,” you say quickly, pulling back to meet his gaze. ���i’d love to put in a request for no more guitar lessons with the door closed, if the suggestion box is still open.”

“it is,” taerae says with a laugh. “suggestion accepted, approved and implemented.”

“and, uh, maybe they don’t have to take place on your bed,” you say, biting your bottom lip and hiding your face in his chest.

“i will have you know my conduct is strictly professional at all times,” taerae replies and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “but you’re completely right. not to mention, it was probably rude of me to let her sit on my bed... without telling her what it’s covered in.”

“TAERAE-YA!” you shout, hitting his chest as he pulls you toward his bed-- pushing you down gently onto the mattress and climbing between your legs with ease. “you do wash your sheets, don’t you?”

he just laughs.

“tae, that’s gross,” you reply, shaking your head as he cups your center over your jeans. your protesting starts to waiver as he applies more pressure to where you need him most. “you--... you really should--”

“enough, enough, baby-- of course i wash them,” he replies, hooking his fingers around the belt loops of your jeans and shimmying them along with your underwear down your legs before discarding them on the floor. then he smirks at you, adding, “but sometimes i do wonder what the point is when you’re just gonna get them dirty again.”

“fuck,” you whine as taerae admires you. he’s licking his lips like he hasn’t eaten in days-- and he hasn’t. you wonder how he’s survived this long without you.

“so,” he says, starting to circle your clit with two fingers. his rhythm isn’t steady though; it’s intoxicatingly teasing. “what did you think i was teaching in these ‘lessons’?”

you feel your face heat up again at the mention of your faux pas. “don’t make fun of me.”

“never, baby,” he says; a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “i’m just curious what you think i’m enough of an expert in to be qualified to teach.”

“i--... oh my god,” you say, shaking your head with embarrassment. “i thought you were teaching her how to finger herself!"

“hmm, i guess i can understand the confusion,” taerae runs his fingers through your folds, gathering some of your slick and painting it across your stomach. “since playing guitar requires so much skill with your fingers.”

“shut up,” you reply, pouting at him.

“no, really,” he insists with a nod. as he pushes his middle finger into you gently, you gasp at the sensation. “like, to play a chord; each of your fingers needs to hold down the correct string and in the correct spot. like, to play a d chord for example.”

taerae strokes up into your walls with his middle finger, causing you to whimper. “see this middle finger needs to be on that ‘high e’ string. and then the ring finger...”

plunging another finger into you, your hand reaches to grab onto taerae to steady yourself. he smiles at you, pressing both fingers firmly against your walls now. “will sit nicely on that ‘b’ string right here.”

as he works his fingers against your walls lazily, you whine-- desperate for more friction and soon. your prayers are answered when taerae inserts a third finger, stretching you carefully until he’s able to push it all the way in.

“and finally, the index finger is going to go...” he laughs lightly before pushing his index finger into the spongy, firm spot in your walls that only he has ever been able to find. as you cry out in pleasure, taerae presses kisses to your thighs. “you might’ve guessed, but that one’s on the ‘g’ string. and listen to that beautiful sound it's making.”

“did you--... did you plan that g-spot joke?” you ask breathlessly in between pleading moans as taerae picks up the pace of his fingers. “you’re the--*hic!*... worst person i know.”

the little hiccup from pleasure that separates your insult sends taerae reeling. “fucking perfect, huh? every inch of you.”

“baby, please,” you beg, self-control low after two weeks without taerae. “wanna cum. please, wanna cum for you.”

taerae moans and, from the way he’s looking at you, you know he’s just as desperate as you are. he falls to his stomach now between your legs as he says, “was gonna try to... keep my mouth off of you. show you i really like you. you-- not just your pussy but...”

“fuck it,” you both say at the same time.

lips attaching to your clit, taerae wastes no time in pushing you closer to the edge as he laps, sucks, eats at you-- one leg of yours hooked over his back as he continues to work you with his left hand. 

“tae,” you whimper, hands in his hair as you grind your hips into his touch. “g’nna cum... please, gonna cum.”

taerae whines and, with the state you’re in, you don’t even notice how feverishly he’s grinding into the bed. he switches to sucking, lips tugging perfectly on your clit and it’s all over for you.

“fuck, i--... i--... m’cumming,” you moan, taerae’s name falling from your lips a few dozen times as you come down from your high. “oh my god.”

taerae is noticeably quiet; removing his fingers from inside of you, he laps at the juices that drip out of you with his eyes closed. you know he really likes you... but it’s very possible he likes your pussy just as much. you’re not complaining.

“tae,” you call sweetly, sitting up on your elbows. “baby? come here-- want you to fuck me.”

he opens his eyes, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he sits up a bit. “um... so, about that.”

his gaze trails down to the crotch of his jeans and you follow it to find a nice, big wet spot soaking through the denim. 

“are you serious!?” you whine in frustration; sighing as taerae smiles at you sheepishly.

“i’m sorry,” he apologizes with a cute little pout. “will you forgive me if i say it’s because you’re just too hot?”

you roll your eyes-- grinning at him. “i’ll consider it.”

“thank god, because i think i can probably make it up to you...” he says, sitting up and grabbing your jeans from the floor. “after some dinner.”

you laugh. “are you asking me out?”

“i totally am,” he answers with a smile.

“you’re sure you’re not too... full?” you joke, grabbing his hand in yours. “you did just eat.”

taerae shakes his head, smirking at you:

“trust me-- i’m never full when i’m with you.”

[yyunari]

ANTON 01. 🐇﹕ꕤ﹔ FALLING BEHIND

Growing up rather shy, Anton found himself falling behind in the love department. Perhaps all it would take was joining the Glee Club for him to finally make progress in his love life.

⌇＃GENRE ◠﹒glee au + fluff + angst + love at first sight + anton is down bad LMAO＃PAIRING ◠﹒anton lee x fem! reader ＃WARNINGS ◠﹒none?

Anton stared at the white heart imprinted onto his latte. His face was emotionless but if you looked close enough, perhaps you could see the intrigue swirling in his eyes.

Some people would say it’s just a random design. But to Anton, it sort of felt like more than that. It felt like a sign from the universe that love would slap him in the face soon enough.

But how silly was that? He knew it was stupid, but he couldn’t help but hope. After all 18 years of his life with no romantic interactions whatsoever, he felt that he was falling behind. To him, it was upsetting. All his friends had partners at least once in their lives before, so what was wrong with him? What was it about Anton that was so undesirable that he couldn’t get a girlfriend for the life of him?

As Anton stirred the ivory tint of the drink, he frowned. Perhaps he was never meant to be loved. Perhaps his shyness was an indicator that he would never find love.

The more that he thought about it the white foam swirled around the cup until it became to unrecognizable and blended into one large mess.

He then looked up to the man in front of him with a judging expression, and scoffed.

“You want me to what?”

“Join the Glee Club, Anton.” Mr. Jeon pleaded the boy. “We need more guys, and you have a really nice voice.”

The idea made him laugh a bit. Anton? Apart of the Glee Club? Mr. Jeon wanted him to do show choir? He was the quarterback of the football team. If he joined a club that no one respected, especially for guys like him, he would have even lower a chance of getting a girlfriend. He would probably even be shunned by his own teammates.

Besides, performing was a little too much for him. Of course he enjoyed singing, that’s why Mr. Jeon found out he could sing in the first place (he had overheard Anton singing to himself in the shower after football practice). But he could never see himself performing on stage for people to see. Being on the football team gave him some unwanted spotlight, but most of the time he was wearing his football gear so people couldn’t exactly see his face most of the time. If he were to be performing, he would have to dress up and have bright lights shining down on him.

It made him too nauseous to think about.

“I’m sorry Mr. Jeon, but I don’t think I would be able to…” Anton started. “With football and everything.”

Mr. Jeon handed him a piece of paper. “Don’t worry, I took the liberty of making sure rehearsals didn’t clash with your football practices. I also asked your coach if it was alright that I scouted you, and he gave me the green light.”

The man was right. Every rehearsal from then until the end of the year was perfectly planned so that he would have enough time to do both. It was quite scary, actually. Perhaps Mr. Jeon was scarier than he had let on.

“I don’t want to force you to do it if you really don’t want to,” Mr Jeon continued. “But please think about it. We have a lot of fun in rehearsals and I think you would get along with everyone! I know you love singing, and I think Glee would really help you showcase your abilities.”

“With all due respect, I don’t think people would see me the same way if I joined a club like Glee.” Anton wasn’t one to lie, and he wasn’t sure if the teacher was aware of how the general student population viewed Glee.

Mr. Jeon chuckled at what he said. “I know that Glee isn’t generally seen in a positive light to you guys, but I don’t think that should matter.”
“What do you mean?” Anton asked, curious to what he was talking about.

“Why don’t you come to our next rehearsal?” Mr Jeon said. “When you see these kids sing, I think you’ll change your mind.”

Anton didn’t doubt that they were talented, but he wasn’t sure how seeing them sing could make him change his mind. “What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll give you detention if you don’t.”

What Anton forgot was that at the end of the day, Mr. Jeon still had a position of power over him.

Room 201.

Anton stared at the instructions that Mr. Jeon had sent to him, and sighed. He really didn’t want to watch Glee practice. However, his need to not get detention was much higher. It would put a stain on his perfect record, and he didn’t need that.

Begrudgingly, he begun to make his way towards the room. The time read 3:25 which gave him 5 minutes to get to the room before he was late.

Anton discreetly walked over to Room 201 while avoiding the stares of his teammates, as he knew they wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. Perhaps he cared a little too much of what the people around him thought.

But with his shy persona, he really didn’t want to be shunned from his friends. He didn’t want girls to judge him. He had enough time talking to people as it was, he didn’t need that extra judgement.

Anton didn’t care about being popular or having a lot of friends. He just wanted to have people by his side.

As he neared the Glee room, he contemplated on just turning back and taking the detention. After all, one infraction on his record couldn’t be too bad right? Especially after so long of getting perfect grades and perfect attendance, as well as his status of the quarterback. Colleges would be able to look past one measly detention.

He really didn’t want to go there.

“Kiss today, goodbye. The sweetness and the sorrow.”

…

What was that voice?

Who was it?

“Wish me luck the same to you.”

Once Anton was by the door, he could hear the voice more clearly.

“But I won’t regret, what I did for love. What I did for love.”

He peered through the glass to see just who was singing, and his jaw dropped.

“Look my eyes are dry”

Y/N L/N.

He had always heard that name uttered throughout the hallways and ridiculed by his football teammates. Oftentimes, people would describe her as annoying, stuck up, and ugly. Girls would laugh at her put together appearance and guys would make fun of her body shape. Although Anton never saw anything inherently wrong with the girl, the entire student body was under the impression was that she was the devil.

“The gift was ours to borrow.”

One thing that everyone knew about Y/N, and was a fact even she would agree upon, was that the girl was a born performer. She made it abundantly clear that her dreams were to become a Broadway performer, and that she would stop at nothing to reach that goal.

There was one occasion during French class that he shared with her that Y/N got into an argument with the teacher because she wanted to leave for an audition, and the teacher didn’t let her. In the end, Y/N ended up storming out of the classroom anyways.

At the time, Anton thought it amusing.

“Oh it’s as if we always knew, and I won’t forget.”

Anton had read once on Y/N’s blog that she was immediately trained to sing from the moment she was born and put into acting classes. So he knew that she had talent.

“What I did for love, what I did for love.”

But as Anton stared at Y/N, who stood alone practicing in the empty rehearsal room, he felt something ignite inside him.

Despite knowing that the girl had the talent, he never actually saw her singing. She wasn’t just good at singing in the way that people were usually good at singing.

Y/N’s voice could only be described as one dipped in honey. It was too sweet to be real, and Anton even pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“Gone, love is never gone.”

It was weird. Before that point, Y/N was never someone he would think about. In fact, she only ever crossed his mind if she was forced there. Even if she had passed by him in the hallways, he would barely give her a second glance.

Seeing her in such a state, with the light perfectly reflecting off of the windows and casting an angelic aura onto her face, he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

“As we travel on, love’s what we’ll remember.”

Something that Anton was sure of, once seeing Y/N in her true element, was that Y/N L/N wasn’t just a born performer.

She was born to be a star.

He couldn’t help but wonder, maybe one day he could have that same level of confidence that Y/N had.

The way she carried herself with such grace and assertiveness attracted him. Anton was the complete opposite. He was shy, lanky, and often slouched down on himself.

But Y/N wasn’t like that. She knew her worth, and didn’t back down from anything.

Anton continued to listen to Y/N sing her song, with stars in his eyes and his mouth left slightly agape.

He wasn’t sure of the feeling that he felt in his heart, but he did know one thing.

Anton wanted to be apart of Y/N’s life. He wanted to hear her angelic voice, and see her beautiful face everyday. He wanted to be apart of her world because he found it quite wonderful.
A girl shunned by the entire school, often discredited and regarded as undesirable, who was made to be apart of something more.

Anton wanted to know more about her.

“Great job, Y/N! I didn’t want to interrupt so I waited outside the room.” Mr. Jeon had walked into the room from the door on the opposite end of where Anton was. “You sound amazing, as always. I definitely chose right when I chose to give you the solo.”

Anton could see Y/N get smirk at the compliment. “I knew you would come to your senses. This song is perfect for my voice, after all.”

To most, she would come off as cocky and unbearable. And to most she was.

But for Anton, he saw it in a different way. Most people were just too insecure about themselves to be able to admit when they’re good at something. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. However, Y/N knew that she was talented enough to become something. There was nothing wrong in vocalizing that.

And Anton admired that aspect of Y/N.

“The others should be coming soon. I assume they’re all getting a quick snack since I moved the rehearsal time.”

So that’s why Y/N was practicing alone. Anton wondered why no one was there despite it being well past 3:30.

That face made Anton more attracted to her. Y/N already knew she was good enough to get any part, yet she still took time to herself to practice. And she practiced well.

A burning desire filled Anton’s heart as he pushed open the door.

“Oh, Anton! You’re a bit early. I for-“

“I want to join Glee.” Anton rushed his words, before he could chicken out. And suddenly, he turned his head and made eye contact with Y/N. He could feel all his confidence drain in that moment, as she kept her stare on him as if she were judging him. Anton forgot his tendency to be shy. “I-If the offer is still standing, I mean.”

Mr. Jeon clapped his hands once. “That’s great news! What made you change your mind?”

Anton kept his eyes on Y/N, who was also waiting for his answer.

There were multiple reasons he could think of, but one reason stood out amongst the others.

“I saw an angel.” Was all Anton could admit.

He sounded crazy, and neither Y/N nor Mr. Jeon could figure out what he was talking about, but that didn’t matter. Both were just glad there would be another guy in Glee.

“Well, we need another male lead for one of our performances so you and Y/N can lead ‘No Air’ together.” Mr. Jeon instructed. “Does that work for you?”

Y/N slowly made her way to Anton, and he felt the air in his lungs phase out.

“I don’t know, will you be able to keep up with me? I’m kind of difficult.” She challenged.

Anton mustered up what little confidence he had left in his body, and leaned in closer to Y/N.

“I like difficult.”

Anton was falling behind in the love department, and he needed to catch up. Maybe the latte design from the day before was a sign that he would fall in love. It had seemed to coincidental to not be true.

After crossing Y/N’s path in such a way, he knew that he would have to pursue her as much as he could. He had never fallen for someone so strongly before. But he knew that Y/N was the one he had been waiting for.

In a way, they were sort of one in the same. Both seemingly too undesirable to get into relationships. That idea comforted him.

Anton was falling behind, but for Y/N he would put all of his effort to catch up. Even if it meant disregarding his social status or mockery from his friends.

Y/N was worth the effort.

authors note. first riize fic!!! i love riize sm and anton is soooooo falling behind coded ugh i adore him also yay glee

permanent taglist. @muhwaa @yizhoutv @ja4hyvn @one16core @enhacolor @haerinz @soobin-chois @en-boyz @ohmy-fandoms @yjwonz @yunki4evr @strwberrydinosaur @duolingofanaccount @iichaeyj @eundiarys @ineedaherosavemeenow @chaerybae @bubblytaetae @w3bqrl @xiaoderrrr @jaeyunnsworld @rikizm @teddywonss @gweoriz @dimplewonie @jennaissantes @kivrio @kaykay11sworld @itsactuallylina

[rodolfoparras]

Imagine fucking the spot from every last hole of his and having your cum leak out of all his orifices 😫😫😫

Content warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, Spot X Top Male reader, sub spot, dom male reader, group sex (M/M/M/M), sensory deprivation, mild degradation, Power dynamic, non human anatomy (let’s say spot can’t feel a thing but likes to be used for sex)spot basically being a cum bucket, author does not care for grammar and spelling errors for once. Anon I know u didn’t say anything about group sex but I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this and churned this thing out in an hour and it’s a lot so brace yourself Also pls don’t consider this a proper Drabble this is just me rambling djdjd

Spot is down on all four, blindfolded and surrounded with people he doesn’t know.

He knows that because he can feel rough hands digging into every inch of his skin. He can hear a choir of heavy grunts and gasps mingle with the sound of skin slapping together. He can almost taste the cocks thrusting into him. He can even smell the scent of sex lingering in the air.

Some would feel scared to be rendered in such vulnerable position but Spot isn’t, matter of fact he had wanted to do this.

See once you and spot started getting intimate you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to fuck all of his holes and fill them up to the brim with cum but you couldn’t do that alone of course and would need help from some people.

So one day you had suggested the idea to him and he had easily agreed to do it.

You had given him a week to prepare, a week to back out if he needed it even but he never did instead he came with you to the decided location, only dressed in a simple black blindfold.

He hadn’t gotten much instructions other than to get down on all fours and use his safe word if he needed to.

So here he is, down on all four blindfolded and surrounded with people he doesn’t know.

He knows that you’re there as well, can hear your voice. He just doesn’t know if it’s your hand on his shoulder. All he knows it’s a rather demeaning grip, uncaring if they’re being gentle with him, only meant to sturdy the person in question as they’re trusting their cock into one of his holes.

He can feel another hand on him, blunt nails sinking into the supple skin of his ass as they thrust their cock into the spot just under his buttocks.

He can also feel fingers shoved into the hole on his face while someone’s thrusting a cock into the spot on his neck.

He should feel embarrassed. These unknown people are treating him as if he were nothing but a form full of holes where you could just shove your cock into it, cum and leave it gaping for more.

But for some reason he doesn’t feel embarrassed, instead he feels rather proud with how good of a job he’s doing right now.

See the group of people will each find a hole, and fuck into it until someone cums. Once someone does, they rotate to find another hole and when they find it, they do the process all over again til they manage to reach their goal.

So far they’ve rotated rather quickly, spot’s surprised that he isn’t filled to the brim right know because he can almost taste the bucket loads of cum at the back of his throat, can feel the many cocks at the very pit of his stomach but it takes a while until squelching sounds can be heard along with the sound of something dripping to the floor.

“Oh god looks like you made a mess,” he hears you say, false concern dripping from your tone.

And that’s when he realizes. You’ve actually managed to fill him up to the brim to the point where cum is leaking out of his holes and dripping to the floor.

And Spot is slightly embarrassed, doesn’t know what to say, just stays kneeling on all four, blindfolded and surrounded in puddles of cum.

“How about you clean it up for us, yeah?” He hears you speak again. There’s an echo of agreements, even some laughter can be heard.

He quickly snaps out of his embarrassment and scurries to do as he’s told. However before he can go any further someone’s pressing a boot clad foot against his shoulder, halting him from going any further.

“Only with your face Jonathan” he hears you say again, can almost see the smile on your face in his head.

“Of course sir” is all he says in response before he lowers his head to the ground.

[xxshadowbabexx]

Sub priest könig and dom succubus f!reader pretty please with a cherry on top?

A Priest and His Vices

Warnings: Heavy religious shit, corruption kink, 69, partially clothes sex, come eating, d/s dynamics, begging, humiliation kink, degradation kink, missionary, multiple orgasms, slight breeding kink (?), overstimulation, dacryphilia, poorly written German, my first time writing König

König was a good, righteous man. He spread the word of our Lord and Savior far and wide, preaching of how God could save even the most wretched and damned.  

Many people knew of his influence, and many considered him to be a symbol within the church. But what they didn’t know, was that every Sunday, after he finished his sermons, he met with the Devil herself. 

Or rather, one of her succubus daughters. 

Today was one of those days, he paced the chapel, awaiting your arrival. He was nervous, as his deprecating thoughts swarmed his mind. He was supposed to help people realize the beautiful truth, that God is good and here to save them all. 

But whenever he got on his soap box and preached to the choir, he couldn’t help but wonder if you were the God he spoke of. 

He shuddered as he heard it, the sound of bells jingling, announcing your arrival. He straightened his shoulders as he felt your looming presence behind him, one hand raising to grab the back of his wrist. 

Your fingers were cold, burning his skin as your nails dug into the flesh. 

“Missed me, König,” you purred, an absolute tease. Of course he missed you, how could he not? No one could milk his cock the way you did, luscious lips around the head with siren eyes gazing into the depths of his soul. 

“Natürlich, kleine maus,” he grunted, feeling your nails drag up his arm, over the curve of his bulging muscles. 

“How… disappointing. It doesn’t sound like you missed me much at all. Perhaps I should leave?” You mocked, pulling your hand away and turning around. 

“Nein, kleine maus. I did miss you. Not good with words. You know this.” he said, knowing it was a shitty excuse but too proud to care. 

“Not good with words? Seems like a problem for a priest of your stature,”

He grunted, eyes closing. He wanted you to touch him again, but you weren’t going to unless he asked, were you? 

“Sheiß drauf. Get on with it already, woman,” he growled. 

You moved to stand in front of him, hand rubbing his hardening cock. “Now that’s not how we ask for things we want, is it?” you asked, sharply pulling his tip with the last syllable. 

He moaned into your touch, fucking pathetic and he knew it. “What do you want me to do? Beg?”

“Precisely,” you grinned. 

His head hung in shameful submission, “Need you to touch me, kleiner teufel. Need you to make a damn mess of me,”

You smiled wider, showing your teeth. “Good. On your knees, boy,” you commanded and he listened, despising himself for giving in so easily. He shuffled to his knees, his head still level with your chest due to his hulking frame. 

“Mmh König,” you whispered, running your hand along his jawline and caressing him gently. “So pretty and submissive for me. Want me to play with you?” you asked, batting long lashes at him. 

He nodded, “Yes, need your mouth on m’ cock,” he rasped, reeling at your touch even though nothing had started. 

“So needy,” you tsked, smiling down at him. “And why should I give someone like you what you want, hm?”

His faded blue eyes bore up into yours, “Gottverdammt, woman,” he cursed under his breath, “You should touch me because I’ve been risking everything to be here with you,”

“Oh how impatient,” you mocked, “if you really want me you’ll take off your clothes and lay down, alright darling?” you teased. 

He nodded like a fool and rushed to undress himself. Fully bare he laid down on the broken cobblestone ground, goosebumps covering his skin as the cold ground caressed his nerves. 

You smiled at him wickedly. Your thumb forced its way into his mouth after you bent down, and you took advantage of his open mouth by spitting in it. 

And the whore fucking moaned. 

You flipped up your skirt as you sat on his face. He began eagerly lapping at your cunt through your slick soaked panties. Something about you corrupting what once was a good, pure priest, and ruining him for anyone but you drove you wild. 

He ate you out like a man starved, diving into your pussy and sucking your clit like a pacifier. 

You smirked as you leaned down to face his weeping cock. It was long, almost nine inches and dangerously girthy. You leaned to press a kiss to his angry, red head, tasting the precum on your lips. Salty, but not too bitter. 

You licked his shaft, one manicured hand coming down to grope his stuffed balls. All the better to breed you with. You slowly worked him into your mouth, feeling his cock spread your throat as he moaned into your pussy. 

You sucked him deep and hard, toying with his balls as he came undone underneath you. 

“Verdammt, du schmeckst so gut,” he growled into your cunt, barely audible. His tongue burned from rubbing the lace and fucking your panties into your hole. It burned and it felt so good. 

See, König had a fucking huge tongue, and it spread your lips so wonderfully. 

You felt him flex his beautiful thighs underneath you, a sure sign he was about to cum. You pulled back, sing your hand to stroke him as he came, shooting all over your face and tongue. 

You stood up, ignoring König’s attempts to grind your cunt down onto his face. He stood up to face you, his breath catching in his throat as he saw your cum covered face. 

“Go on, clean it off me,”

He leaned forward, strong hands cradling your face as he licked his cum off of you. It was fowl and you both loved it so. He was inhumane and depraved.

You made him this way. 

Once he had finished licking off his cum you collided your lips with his in a searing kiss. Brutal and hot as you ground yourself on his cock. Seems he was especially needy tonight. Already longing for round two when he hadn’t finished even five minutes ago. 

You pushed him down so he was lying on the ground  and moved to straddle his lap. In one solid motion you pushed your panties to the side and sank down on his thick cock. You could feel him resting against your cervix, but the best part? That was how tears pooled in König’s eyes as he felt you wrap around his cock. 

You began bouncing, absolutely spearing yourself on his leaky cock as he writhed beneath you. It was utterly perfect, how fucked out and pussy drunk he was for you when he only just began. 

He was the sorriest excuse for a man you’d ever seen. 

You dragged your nails down his sweaty chest, leaving red marks in their wake. He whined, thrusting his hips up into yours as he came undone yet again.

And again…

and again. 

It seemed he couldn’t stop cumming. Every orgasm finished just as another began, and he was blurry-eyed and begging beneath you. 

“Bitte, verdammt, bitte,” he wailed, begging for something he didn’t know. 

You frowned, looking down at the mess beneath you as you pulled off of him, cum spilling everywhere. 

“Sorry König, you didn’t make me come tonight. Maybe next time,” you pouted, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you walked back into the depths of hell. 

Taglist

@theloneshadow24

@frogtowne

@reap3erslov3

[livinginshambles]

Preview: If I could take it all back | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: James' time to pine over you. After James rejected your feelings, and you promised to get over him during the summer break, he finds himself in the same position of unrequited love and wishes he could take his words back.

Notes: I suppose this could be read as a standalone without the short context of the first part :) No proofreading (yet), enjoy!

Also, am I supposed to tag you guys for previews? Because I'm not doing it, to avoid spamming you guys, but idk what you guys think works best.

__________________________

James plopped down on his bed in exhaustion after their first day back at Hogwarts and his mind wandered off to you.

What would your reaction be if he told you that he may fancy you. You probably wouldn’t take him seriously, he figured. And it’s not as if he actually fancied you, right? His mind was probably just confused because he, for the first time ever, wasn’t so preoccupied with Lily, and could instead acknowledge other girls too.

“Bloody hell, is it me, or was that ceremony more tedious than ever before?” Sirius complained after he too dropped down on his bed across the room.

“Just gets longer each year,” Remus groaned in dismay, stuffing his face in his pillow with a deep sigh.

“And that choir,” Peter chimed in. He didn’t even have to finish his sentence, the rest of the marauders dramatically joining in on complaining.

“And ignoring the toads, there was a bloke who kept making eyes at our Y/N,” Sirius huffed. James’ relaxed posture turned rigid, and he rolled over, so his eyes could snap towards Sirius. “What!? Who?”

“Calm down, Prongs,’ Remus was quick to shush him. “Sirius is exaggerating as usual.” A pillow was thrown his way. “Also, it wasn’t inappropriately making eyes at her or anything. He just smiled at her, that’s all.” Remus ducked the pillow.

“Yeah, and it was completely mutual, so it’s alright,” Peter decided to add his own observation of the incident in attempt to reassure James. His words seemed to have the opposite effect, although James tried to hide the way his heart plummeted. Mutual?

“True, she even blushed a little,” Remus seemed to recall. “You reckon she fancies him?” He wondered out loud and James huffed in annoyance. “That’s ridiculous, Y/N doesn’t fancy him,” he curtly replied. Peter shook his head. “But didn’t she say that she fancied someone last year?”

Remus’ eyes lingered on James, fully aware who she fancied, but opting to not throw that in the conversation.

“Well if she fancied anyone, it wouldn’t be that stupid git,” James stubbornly said. Sirius squinted his eyes at James before a shit eating grin appeared on his face. “Prongs…” he slowly began. “Do you fancy our Y/N?” Remus and Peter’s jaws fell slack, sitting up to stare at James.

James froze and his mouth opened and closed, trying to find the words to deny Sirius’ accusation. “No, I don’t,” he defended himself. “I just know Y/N and I’m telling you, that guy is not her type,” he scoffed.

“Well to be fair, we don’t actually know her type, she hasn’t dated anyone before and refused to tell us about her crush.” Sirius poked. “Well, I do,” James snapped. There was a long awkward silence while the marauders raised their eyebrows at his tone, and then James cleared his throat. “I just mean that I’ve known her longest, so obviously I know her type,” he tried to explain.

“Right.” Sirius slowly drew out. Remus and Peter nodded their heads but not at all looking convinced. James dropped back down on his bed and let his mind wander off to you again. Oh, who was he lying to, of course he fancied you.

“So, lovely Y/N, what’s your type in regard to guys,” Sirius curiously asked you. James shot him an angry look that you couldn’t see as you were huddled against him, your back to his chest so that you two could fit on the armchair together.

“What, like personality or looks?” You tilted your head in question.

“Uh, both?” Sirius asked.

You hummed in thought. “Well, kind of like Prongs, I guess,” you shamelessly admitted, and James almost choked on his own saliva. “Though, look-wise, you’re pretty easy on the eyes too, Pads.” You winked jokingly at Sirius, and he blew you a kiss while laughing out loud before getting back on the matter at hand. “So, James here is your type?” He almost disbelievingly repeated.

You shrugged. “Sure.”

James scanned Sirius’ face and could see the gears turning in his friend’s head. Merlin, he’d have to let Sirius know that he didn’t have to bother playing matchmaker, he’d destroyed any chances of you two ever becoming more by himself, two months ago.

His arms tightened around you unconsciously. It didn’t matter as long as he could keep you close like this. He’d take whatever you’d give him, he decided. He was happy enough with your friendship.

Full fic