#he's REALLY good at swimming though! strong shoulders and arms! so

[becoach-a]

beard's a great swimmer, but he tends not to swim due to being very susceptible to sunburn.

[undercoverpena]

6. morning coffee

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter six of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.5k chapter warnings: frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. frankie being a good dad. an: if this was a sitcom episode, it would be called 'the morning after'

prev chapter | series masterlist

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

It’s hard not to smile when you open your eyes.

More so when you feel his breath on your neck, the scent of body wash you quickly remember him rubbing into your skin—the arm currently draped over your waist. The one keeping you firmly close, as though you would ever wish to be anywhere but here.

Seen, wanted and appreciated—even when he’s not entirely conscious.

The only reason you even contemplate moving from this—and the only real reason you’re awake—is that you’re desperate for the bathroom. It worsens the longer you lie there, thinking of it, the pressure on it from his forearm.

A quick glance at the clock on his bedside table tells you it’s far too early to disturb him. To wake him with a kiss and a whisper that you’ll be right back—especially when you think back to how late it was before the two of you finally whispered that you should sleep.

Even if you hadn’t wanted to.

Wanting instead to keep feeling his knuckles drag up and down your outer thigh and knee. The husk of his voice saying he should really flick the light off, even if he didn’t, instead letting you ask his favourite colour and him answering with a handful of shades you’d never remember.

Pick one, Francisco.

Mmm, not sure I can do that, baby. Too hard of a question.

Too hard to pick one thing?

Not when it’s the right thing.

Glancing over at him, fingers close to his, you swim for a moment in the memories of last night—the ache between your thighs a souvenir you can keep with you until it fades. Admiring the length of his lashes against his cheek, the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips that you wish to kiss forever, as a thought—one strong and beating inside of you like your own heart—comes to you:

You don’t wish to trade this. Any of it.

Not just last night, but all of it—all of him.

But, you have to move. Even if your heart pleads with you not—eventually only doing so when your bladder twinges again in protest.

You find, slipping out from under his arm (all cautiously and carefully) is easy, until you glance back at his sleeping frame.

A calmness to him, a peacefulness. Chest and shoulder rising, face tilted ever so slightly into the plump pillow. It makes a pang of want thrum through you, one that doesn’t fade when you tiptoe back to the room and find him in a similar position.

Leaning on the wall, the one between his bedroom and en-suite, you flick your eyes to the half-open door. Spotting his bathrobe, fluffy and dark grey—flecks of white stitched in. Your throat suddenly scratchy, dry. Your body desperate for what usually fuels it when you’re up and about.

And you know you have to decide. Choose between attempting to slide back into bed or searching cupboards for coffee—both for you and him.

But you can’t stand there. Able to bet money that if he opened his eyes and found you staring, he’d one hundred per cent find it creepy.

You move when he sighs—further rolling into the space you had been moments ago. Smirking, you move, the decision made as you unhook the rope. Slowly sliding your arms into it until it’s draped over you and you’re welcomed by it: his scent.

That familiar one. The one which smells like pine cones, cedar wood and so much more. The one which had seeped into your clothes that first kiss close to your car.

And, thankfully, it only gets more intense as you step out into the hallway.

Brushing your hand over shelves as you pass, eyes lingering over the titles of books—ones about woodwork, decor and home. Fingers tracing the spines of them as you take in the photographs littered around.

Some are adorned with Luca, varying ages spanned across shelves. A tooth missing here, a gummy smile there. Some you assume are his family, and then a group of men, shirts off and standing in the middle of a dune—grinning, Frankie’s hair far shorter than it is now.

But, as you stare across his living area, you spot all the things you missed last night. The record player and the vinyls tucked on a higher shelf, placed beside crayon artwork framed in dark wood. There are mini-Lego figures in prime places, with wicker baskets containing multicoloured blocks and toys.

Then, there’s the closet near the kitchen you can’t remember from your tour—making a note to question him on later—before finally arriving at his kitchen.

And, fuck is it beautiful.

It’s all dimly lit by the early morning light flitting through the windows. Quiet, peaceful—save for the humming of the refrigerator and the distant chirping of birds outside. Like much of the place, the cupboards are dark, starkly contrasted by white-wash walls and pinned drawings on the fridge.

Centre-stage, and the thing you’re seeking, is his coffee machine. A sleek silver contraption that looks more complicated than you're used to. Shiny, remarkably clean.

Yet, you're determined.

Remembering his mention about his love of coffee and his preference for Cafe Bustelo. Trying to remember the rest, whether it was black drip, milk or no milk. Stroking a finger down the milk frother as you begin to piece it all together from fragments, hints he had dropped unknowingly.

Up until this point, you had found it difficult to find one thing about Frankie you didn’t like. Then you saw his kitchen layout.

Cupboard, after cupboard opened until you found the bright yellow bag. The smoky, rich smell wafting out as you tugged it close, all strong and inviting—it hooked a finger under your chin and coaxed you to spend several minutes fumbling with the machine.

Then, you hear the satisfying gurgle of brewing coffee.

Resisting the urge to break into a spontaneous dance, you opt instead to steal a momentary glance out the window. The world is stirring, its early morning canvas painted in delicate strokes of pink and orange, a serene backdrop as your gaze falls upon the garden. the worn slide of the wooden climbing frame, its sides adorned in an array of mismatched hues and haphazard brushstrokes. Your eyes begin tracing the trail of tiny handprints ascending one side, the lowest the smallest, increasing in size until halfway up. Then, at the top, larger prints that, just hours ago, you imagine were pressed against your own skin.

As a breeze blows through it, it swings multi-colour bulbs hanging, draped and swinging above. Letting your eyes sweep over the plants—the planters likely made by him, like you imagine much of the furniture outside is—suddenly spotting little figures buried into random bits of soil.  

And it makes you smile, grin—full on fucking beam.

Only letting it flicker when you’re stirred by the beep of the coffee machine, pulls you from your reverie. Fingers returning to opening cupboards, seeking mugs, almost grumbling to yourself when you feel hands on your waist.

Ones that feel right, purposeful.

“Morning.”

It’s gravelly, coated in the morning—slowly closing the door before moving back into him, your back flush to his chest.

“Good morning, Butterscotch.”

Feeling him sigh, chin resting on your shoulder, you raise your fingers to brush against his cheek.

“You trying to bring me coffee in bed?”

Turning, you rotate in his arms. Eyes briefly catching the sight of him half-naked. Before taking a full on glance to spot him in a pair of sweats, ones that sit low on his hips. One of his hands crosses over the expanse of his waist, fingers scratching at his soft stomach while you look up to see his hair all at odd angles—curls slightly frizzed from being over-toyed and ragged.

“Well, I was trying too, but...”

“Machine confuse you?”

Narrowing your eyes, his hands coming around you, you smirk. “I will not confirm or deny.”

Running his hand across his chin, he looks over you before his lips twitch. “It was a gift—the machine.”

“From you to you?”

You watch as he sticks his tongue in his cheek, poking you lightly in your side. “The coffee place near work—it was being refurbed, I offered some thoughts as I was in there all the time, so they gave it to me.”

“Do you know how to use it?”

Running his tongue over the front of his teeth, he shrugs. “Well, yeah.”

“Do you use all of its features?”

Swallowing, he sighs. “No.”

Sliding your fingers along his jaw, nose practically touching his, you find yourself unable to break his eyes. To not want to remain pressed against the counter in his kitchen, stood barefoot in his bathrobe, coffee scents filling the air.

“I bet you know exactly how to take it apart and put it back together.”

“Baby…”

“Bet you descale it regularly, when you’re supposed to.”

Groaning at the feel of your fingers in his hair, he buries his face into your neck. “Is that making you hot for me?”

“Oddly, yes.”

Snorting against your skin, he slowly lets out a slow exhale. “I hate that I have to open the shop.”

“What would your plans be if you didn’t have to?”

Smirking, he groans—low, barely reaching the surface, but it vibrates through you all the same. “I would for one have convinced you the bedroom was far more comfortable.”

“Hmm, tempting.”

Laughing, he pecks your lips, not moving from his place in front of you, even if his head moves back. “I like that you smell like me.”

“Territorial, noted.”

Turning, he points to the mugs, as you begin pouring the coffee—handing him one as his fingers brush yours.

“I just… I liked that you stayed.”

“Stayed or showered with you and let you see where soap suds go?”

Tilting his chin down, his eyes burn into your soul—all wide, brown, desperate to swallow you whole. “If I remember right, you were also seeing where soap suds go.”

Shrugging, you smirk against the mug, noting his finger resting on the knot of the belt—the one protecting your modesty. “Well, it would be rude to not watch the show.”

“A show? Glad I put on my best moves then,” he replies, voice all low, a hand coming to rest on the counter beside you.

You find it hard not to let your mouth become slack, breath hitching at the act.

“Glad it persuaded you to stay?”

Raising an eyebrow, you try to find something smart to say. Ticking. Whirring away. But then you see it.

Ever-present, hanging there—that worry in his eye. A look which half-pleads for you to pinch him and let him know it’s real. A thing you do as you clutch your coffee in one hand, avoid melting at his words and cup his cheek with the other.

The fabric of his robe-sleeve slides down and his breath flutters warmth against your wrist.

“You didn’t need to persuade me. I wanted to wake up in your arms…”

It’s smooth, the way one of his fingers undo the belt, body coming close as you place the mug down and feel his hands, all rough and worn, sliding over your hips. He's cautious to ensure his chest covers yours, as though attempting to keep you warm, concealed.

“—Plus, I really wanted to try your coffee. But, now I want to steal your coffee and bathrobe.”

His laughter trickles out and draws out against you. Frankie’s head shaking, wearing a large smile on his lips, “Well, I think I can come to some arrangement to let you.”

Sucking in a breath, finding his eyes locked on yours, you lean forward and kiss him. Gentle. Delicate. An assurance delivered softly as the coffee aroma continues to seep into your nose.

“I need to make you breakfast,” he whispers, mouth open, breathing the same air.

“Need, want or should?”

With a soft scoff, he leans in to capture your lips once more, whispering all three against you as his hand finds its way to the curve of your neck. Delicately tracing his fingertips over your jawline with a tantalising caress, you find yourself deepening the kiss, hungry for more. His grip on you tightens as you pull him closer, until there is no space left between you both. None that you want to be there. Desperate to be close, to have, to—

“‘m gonna make your breakfast now,” he says, voice close, pecking against your lips before his hands slide from your skin.

The loss is evident. Immediately missed.

Part of you longs to reach out, to draw him back until you feel him clutching the fabric together for you—a slightly lifted brow as you fumble for the belt, and he begins to pull things onto the counter.

Then, you watch him—tying his robe closed—half-in-awe of the meticulous way he moves around his space, grabbing things like he’s been thinking of what to make while you were busy rendered useless.

Eyes fixed on him so much, you see him pause—briefly. His gaze lingers on the coffee pot, glancing back, forcing you to laugh—a shake of your head.

"Thinking about how you’re going to miss this brilliant coffee, you know, since it’s mine now?" You quip, taking another sip of your coffee.

He turns, a pretend wounded expression on his face.

“I should confess that I’m not a nice person without my coffee," he replies, the twinkle in his eyes betraying his amusement.

With a smile gracing your lips, you ease back against his countertop, enjoying the comforting warmth of both the freshly brewed coffee and his presence.

The sunlight continues to filter in gently, casting a soft and golden glow across the room as you pause to drink in the sight before you. Him, cooking you breakfast.

A thing you thought you could have only thought up weeks ago. His curls tousled, a charming mess.

"Selfishly then, I'll let you keep the coffee," you finally concede.

Nodding, he closes his eyes in gratitude before there’s a twitch of his lips. “Because you like me?”

“Because I really like this bathrobe—the robe is a non-negotiable."

He laughs again, shaking his head in defeat. "Fair enough, it's a deal."

“Because I look so good in it?”

“Well," he says, scratching the back of his head. “I think you look good in everything.”

Harry okay?

Yeah, he rocked up ten minutes after you drove off, was able to pick Luca up at normal time.

That’s great! Did you boys have fun?

We did. He’s really into dinosaurs at the moment so I found this craft we could do where we make dinosaurs out of paper plates.

I like making things with him, plus it’s a nice gift for his mom when I drop him off tomorrow.

So handy and crafty?

Very crafty.

And very good with your hands.

You flirt.

You had a nice day?

I got some work done which I needed to get started, and I did some yoga.

Putting all sorts of images in my head.

Says you, talking about being crafty.

Bed feels weird without you here.

Imprinted on it that quickly?

Yeah. You’re the only one that’s been in it except me, and obviously Luca.

Shut up. I cannot be.

You are.

I don’t bring people back to my house.

Ever?

Never.

Never.

Never—

You don’t think.

Not of the time. That he could be tired. Or that his son is asleep in the next room.

Fingers sliding across the screen, finding his contact, and clicking. It's pressed to your ear before you consider whether this is a bad idea. Clutching it, holding it like a lifeline, knowing it's too late. Even if you end it, he'd know, see—

It barely rings.

Two at most, one and a half being a possibility.

And you sigh.

“Fancy hearing from you.”

Pulling your knees up, your bed groans at the sudden movement as you tug the duvet closer to your chin, cheeks rising with your lips. “You’ve really not had someone in your bed?”

It’s there, the sigh. Not full of annoyance, but more like he’s said too much.

“No… I’ve not had anyone else in it but you,” he admits quietly into the phone.

“Wow.”

“And Luca, of course. I always… you sure you want to hear this?”

There’s a softness in his voice that makes your heart flutter in your chest. An unexpected stroke of warmth through you at his question, at his consideration—prompting you to hug the duvet closer to yourself. A subtle smile dances across your lips as you let it wash over you.

“I want to hear whatever you want to tell me.”

Clearing his throat, you hear rustling, trying to half imagine if he’s turning over in bed, if he’s getting more comfortable—

“If I met someone, I didn’t… I only went to theirs.”

Biting your lip, you shift in your seated position, crossing your legs. “So, lunch and then theirs?”

“No lunch.”

“Coffee?”

Silence. Thick, ear-eroding silence. Before he breathes. “It would be a one-night thing and I wouldn’t stay.”

Oh. Your hand slides around your knee, trying not to grin too much. It's all far too easy to get ahead of yourself, to think too much. To run away and begin thinking this means more than it does. But, then—

“So, I’m…”

“Yeah.”

There’s more you want to ask, them sitting there, burning a hole in your tongue. Practically desperate to erode it, possibly poison it all—as questions sometimes do.

“And here I was thinking I was just another notch on your bedpost,” you tease, trying to keep your voice light, sweet.

He laughs then, a sound that makes you wish you were there with him, instead of miles apart in your own cold bed. “Not at all, baby.”

Toes twitching in your bed, you let out a breath. Sliding your legs out straight, slowly folding yourself down to the mattress, lying on one side as you hold the phone.

And you confess your own.

The reason you’re single, the reason you bought a house.

It rolls and falls, slipping with far too much ease into the air from your mouth. A burden-shifting, a weight from your shoulders lessening. The admission undoing the tightness around your chest as you continue to let the past be told in the present.

You don’t cry. Don’t even feel yourself well up. An improvement, a shift and change in you that you’re sure is brought on entirely by Frankie. On occasion, you hear movement from his side and the briefest whisper of your name. Not in pity—never in pity—just in understanding, in comfort.

“So, I’m the first—“

“Yes, Morales. You’re the first person to ask me out in a long time, big deal.”

“It feels like a big deal.”

Smirking, you twitch your toes. “In a few more dates I might confess that it is.”

“But not right now?”

Grinning, you bite your lip. “Feels like it would inflate your head, Francisco.”

More rustling comes down the phone before you hear a deep sigh. “Maybe. Are you in bed?”

“I am.”

You stare at the dark ceiling of your bedroom, a smile slowly spreading across your face.

“Is it weird to admit I miss you?”

“Not if it’s weird if I say I miss you too.”

You swear you hear him smile. That soft exhale he does dusts over your ear as he breathes your name, before adding, “I’m glad you called.”

“Me too.”

A comfortable silence flows out, spreading as you listen to him breathe.

“Want me to tell you my favourite dinosaur?”

You don't fight the laughter that rings out around your bedroom

Sunday tiptoes in with the slightest spring in its step.

With a gentle stretch, you reach for the familiar weight of your phone, heart already skipping ahead of your groggy mind.

There's a flutter of excitement, it mixing with a hint of nerves as you wonder if he's reached out yet. Because it's silly to be excited at the idea that he has, to be giddy at the thought of him thinking of you in this quiet morning hour.

It feels almost teenage-like.

But when your screen lights up you don't care what it is, because there’s little point fighting the grin. The pure eclipsing smile that smothers tiredness and makes your cheeks hurt instantly.

Enjoying my morning coffee feels different without a robe-wearing thief.

Rolling onto your front, the duvet sliding down your back, you dig your elbows into the mattress and run your tongue across your teeth.

Good morning to you too. If there’s coffee left, expect me in half an hour. Unless you fancy getting some with me?

Even if it feels like minutes, his reply arrives in seconds.

Instantly illuminating your phone against the backdrop of your pillow, prompting an involuntary smile to grace your lips.

Always. But I’m thinking brunch might be better?

Grinning, you fight a giggle. Teeth biting down on your lip as your thumbs type at record speed.

Can’t wear the bathrobe there. No, not really. But, I’ll keep it safe, don’t worry. Promise? Pinky promise. Brunch it is. I'll pick you up.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

[calumcxke]

LESSON LEARNED

soobin x fem reader

word count: 1.1k

summary: soobin was in a clingy mood, which usually meant a lot of kisses. but with neither of you being able to swim, it went south pretty quickly.

warnings: kissing?, suggestive, exhibitionism in the way they’re making out in front of the other guys??, they’re just rlly in love with each other idk

notes: i wrote this aug 2022 and i’m barley posting it now😭 trying to post more often but i srsly have the worst writers block rn

🎵: telepatía - kali uchis

it sounds like a song u would play at the pool to me,, tell me u get it

your shirt clung to your skin as you peeled it off slowly, wringing all the water out before putting it on the edge of the pool. with all the splashing it was sure to be drenched by the time you guys got out, but you were really too lazy to get out and walk all the way over to the table.

yeonjun cannonballed into the water and the splash got all over you, and the shirt you had just wrung out. you ended up just chucking it at the table, watching as it hit the side and instead splat onto the pavement.

hands wrapped themselves around your waist from behind, a head pressing into the nook on your shoulder. you smiled and leaned yourself closer to soobin, turning your head as much as you could to try and see him better, although it was hard in this position.

“hm?”, you whispered, bringing a hand up to play with his hair as he nodded and started waddling away from the area you guys were at so you were a bit deeper in the pool.

your mind went blank, soobin was going pretty far out, and neither of you could swim. of course the other four boys were here but you still got scared going into deep water, scared something bad would somehow happen. soobins strong arms around your waist should’ve made you feel content, but knowing he can’t swim… it really wasn’t a comfort.

“soobin.”

he hummed in response against your neck, waiting for your reply.

you were getting so deep that standing on your tippy toes wasn’t enough to keep your nose above water.

you caved and grabbed onto the railing, pulling yourself up and taking breaths as soobin stood behind you, arms wrapped more around your thighs now.

“how deep were you planning on going?”, you asked, still holding onto the railing as you let yourself slowly move back down.

he smiled, hands moving up to your waist to turn you around, pulling your body until your front was flush with his.

“just a bit further, put your hands around my shoulders.”

you stared at him for a few seconds before deciding to listen, wrapping your arms around his neck as soobin moved his hands up to the railing and started shuffling further into the pool, waiting until he feet couldn’t touch the bottom anymore to finally stop moving.

“this good?” he asked quietly, adjusting his arms so he was more comfortable, and you watched as his arms flexed as he moved. you started to realize just how much of an effect soobin in a pool had on you.

his hair was wet, and some droplets were dripping down his face, his chest was wet and you caught yourself staring, finally pulling yourself out of the trance you had put yourself in, looking back at soobin’s face to see him with a waiting look on his face, that had a bit of smugness to it. you nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

he hummed, smirk growing bigger, “you sure?”

“y- yeah.”

soobin laughed quietly, leaning in and pressing what you thought was a quick kiss to your lips. he pulled away and leaned back in just as quick, pressing his lips a bit harder into yours.

you were a bit thrown back, expecting him to pull away within a few seconds but he instead kept kissing you. you welcomed it of course, but you were thrown off because the other four were literally right behind you guys playing in the water, and what you two were doing wasn’t concealed at all.

when soobin started to deepen the kiss more your hand flew up, trying to point to the boys behind you, even though you were still kissing soobin back. your hand was flailing wildly and when it hit soobin’s hand, he grabbed your wrist, putting it back on his shoulder.

his hand moved to your chin, holding it in between his pointer and thumb, opening your jaw the tiniest bit so he could slip his tongue into your mouth, and the small whimper that left your mouth had soobin smiling against your lips.

his hand left your chin instead dipping down to your legs and pulling them to wrap around his waist, before moving back to the railing.

you knew the boys were watching, or talking about you and soobin, and you of course felt exposed, making out with soobin so openly in front of them, but the way that soobin was kissing you and the confidence he had right now that he never really had to do this in public was really making all your common sense fly out the window.

he finally pulled away, pulling your bottom lip away in the process, and you had to take a second to catch your breath and recollect yourself, which was shortly lived.

soobins head dipped down to your neck, starting to suck on a spot that had your head spinning and a moan almost leaving your mouth. it also had your hands instinctively detaching from around his neck and going into the water. you kinda forgot how deep you were.

your body fell quickly and your head was under in no time, your hands grabbing soobin’s shoulders again and you pulled yourself up quickly with a gasp, choking on the water that had gone up your nose and throat. soobin was quite literally the definition of the 😦 emoji, patting your back with one hand and shuffling into more shallow water with the other.

you were trying to recollect yourself from almost drowning, and from soobin’s lips all over yours right in front of the boys.

“you okay?”, you heard taehyun ask from your side, pushing your hair back and out of your face and helping soobin move to the stairs leading into the pool so you could sit.

“yeah *cough* yeah, i’m good.”, you inhaled sharply, blush heavy on your cheeks when you met eyes with soobin.

“good.”, soobin wrapped his hand around the back of your neck pulling your head closer to his and placing yet another kiss on your lips, albeit this time it was a short one, and you were grateful for that.

he stepped out of the pool, holding out his hand for you to join him, and he grabbed the towel he had set on the table, walking over and wrapping it around the both of you, once again enveloping your lips in a kiss, one that had you smiling into it, a small laugh leaving your lips.

you didn’t know what had gotten into soobin and where this boost of confidence had come from because he never showed this much affection to you around the boys, but you were definitely loving it.

“wanna go to the room?”, he whispered against your lips, pulling away to get your response.

“yeah, yes please.”

he smiled at you, unwrapping himself from the towel and letting you have it to yourself, opening the door to let you in first.

[weirdmorefics]

Hello, hope your doing well. Could you do a Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader and she gets overwhelmed at a ball which makes her she zones in/out and Anthony plus the family are really worried because they’ve never seen her like this before? Have a good day/night 💙

A/N- I am doing okay just turned 21 woot. (even tho I hate birthdays because they equal change.)

Pronouns- She/Her

Warnings- Anxiety, Shutdowns, Dissociation,

Word Count- 825

Summary- Basically what the ask says

Life Preserver

This ball was particularly loud and crowded, I don't think I had ever seen so many people in my life before let alone all in the same room. Every noise felt weighted I could hear the clink of every dish, the misstep of every dance, the clink of every heeled shoe. I wonder if this is a normal event for Anthony. I grew up in a small village and only came to London for my introduction to society. I can't say I am used to events like this but it certainly did not seem so crowded at my coming out.

Anthony had been coming and going conversing with others. I felt much like the odd one out. Yes, I wore the clothes and I am married to a wonderful man but I still feel like that country girl who shouldn't be here, especially with this huge crowd. I fiddled with the seams of my gown and searched the crowd for any of the Bridgertons but they all seemed involved in one activity or another. I lingered by the table of pastries and cakes as if I could blend into the wall behind them like a chameleon.

Others tried to introduce themselves to me because I was now a Bridgerton. I had never had a status like this before I was a nobody in my town. Yes, I love Anthony but I do not love the popularity that comes with being his wife. I would respond with a smile that did not meet my eyes and a handshake. It felt like Anthony had left me for hours but I think reality it was only a few minutes.

Anthony arrived back with his mother and sister Daphne. I felt relieved to see their familiar faces but I still felt like was not in my own body.

Anthony looked concerned at my vacant eyes and put a hand to my shoulder, "Are you okay darling?"

I smile and tilt my head to try to act oblivious like I am strong like I should be, "I am fine."

My husband clearly sees through my ruse because concern seems to grow even more and his sister furrowed her eyebrows.

"You don't seem like yourself Y/n," Daphne says her tone full of worry.

I blink my eyes tight trying to come up with a convincing lie but nothing seems to come to mind. I feel so far away like my mind is off swimming in the Atlantic but my physical body is stuck here at a ball. A normal ball! Why can't I just be normal or at least act normal? If not for me at least for my darling Anthony.

Anthony taps my shoulder breaking me from my intense thought spiral. I finally make eye contact with Anthony, and his eyes look full of worry, making me feel even worse for interrupting the festivities.

He wraps his arm around my waist, "I think she needs some air. If you will excuse us." He does not wait for any response and guides me to the garden.

Once the cold night air hits my face, I feel like I can finally breathe even though I wasn't holding my breath to begin with.

"Darling, what is the matter? Are you ill?" Anthony grabs my face and presses his lips to my forehead, "no fever."

I suck my bottom lip trying to prevent the tears that I know are coming soon.

" I am fine Anthony. I am so sorry for worrying you so much," I try to wave him off.

"There is no way you could convince me you are well Y/n. I have never seen your eyes so vacant before," before I can look sad about that comment he quickly grabs my hands and holds them tightly. "You are always so full of life your eyes are like looking into the sun, they are my favorite thing about you! We will not be leaving this garden until you tell me what is wrong."

I sigh, I can't avoid not telling him my feelings because he truly will stay here all night his stubbornness is admirable but also utterly a nuisance. "I am just not used to events like this… I don't think I have ever seen so many people in one room. I-I really did not want to disappoint you. I truly tried my best but I felt like I was drowning."

Anthony brushes my cheek with his hand, "Darling I wish you would have told me. You could never disappoint me you are always my life preserver from my disobeying siblings to calming me from my anger. Let me be your life preserver to your drowning seas."

The tears that I have been holding in finally come out as I take a deep breath, " I will let you be my life preserver if I will always still be yours."

"Always," he smiles and places a chaste kiss on my lips.

[you-til-i-die]

wishin’ I could write my name on it

f.odair x fem!reader

summary: a sneak peak into you and finnick’s lives

warnings/content: I wrote and edited this all in one sitting so if it’s absolute shit that’s why<3 district four victor!r, r is said to have throw up a few times, but none of it is graphic. mentions of blood and sex trafficking, cannon-typical shit really, swearing

song: august - ts

wc: 1.9k

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺

You and Finnick have one rule.

Don’t talk about it. Don’t ask about it. Don’t acknowledge it.

When the two of you are together, you can just forget about it. You can hang out on the beaches of District Four and pretend like these aren’t your lives.

But they are.

And it always somehow seeps through the cracks.

It’s in the way Finnick’s eyes are dull and empty the first few days after a trip to the capitol.

It’s in the way your laugh has morphed into a short bark.

It’s everywhere and it’s everything.

There’s no escaping it.

It haunts your dreams, it probably haunts Finnick’s too, even though you’d never ask.

Because that’s the rule. No asking. Ever.

————————————————————————

It was August. The sun seemed to slowly be getting the message that fall was getting nearer, the rays a little less intense then they had been a few weeks ago. The water was even the tiniest bit cooler, soothing a stubborn sunburn on your shoulders.

You were laying on the beach, face down on a towel, trying to ignore the stick of salt drying on your skin. You can’t help but let out a yawn, exhausted from the still persistent heat and trying to win against Finnick in a swimming race all day.

You were so relaxed. Focusing on the waves crashing against the shore. And the presence beside you that you knew was Finnick.

You honestly were about to fall asleep before he speaks. He mentions it so casually, he might as well have been asking what you wanted for dinner.

“Snow needs me in the capitol. I’m leaving on Friday.”

His voice is completely flat, devoid from all of its usual humor. It made you nauseous. You consider asking if he feels the same way, but you don’t. That was the rule. And you know the rules.

You push yourself up onto your elbows to get a good look at him, to try and decipher the look on his face. You could almost always read him. You hadn’t spent four years attached to each other to not learn the subtle mannerisms of the other. But this was different. It always was.

You and Finnick could talk about almost anything together. The games, the fear that you could never seem to shake, the nightmares, the way it was sometimes hard to stomach killing even a fish. But you never talk about this.

You never talk about how Snow will whisk one, or sometimes both, of you away whenever he needs a favor. You never tell him how afterwards you have to scrub your entire body raw before you can even begin to feel clean again. You don’t tell him how the first couple of times you would sob until you threw up, but now you just curl up and do your best to avoid the pit in your stomach.

Well, truthfully, you had talked about it once. But never again.

You had just been crowned victor of the 69th Hunger Games, District Four’s second victor in four years. It was no surprise, really. You were seventeen, and one of the oldest in the arena. You were strong, quick, and smart. So, so smart. You had won through pure trickery, and everyone loved you for it.

It’s hard for you to remember what happened the week after you won. There’s little snippets, of course. Looking down at the blood on your hands, blood that wasn’t yours. The booming of a voice in the arena, announcing that you were the victor. You had won. You did it. You had made District Four proud. And then you threw up.

You must have blacked out afterwards, because the next thing you remember is being back in your suite in the training center, sobbing in Finnick’s arms while he held you. Most of what you can remember is centered around him. Gripping onto his hand like a lifeline while your stylists buzzed around you. Glancing over Snow’s shoulder at him while the president crowned you. Watching him standing in the wings of the stage while Ceasar Flickerman went over a highlight reel of your time in the arena. Finding your way back into his arms on the train. You’re pretty sure Finnick didn’t say more than the same couple words the first week. It seemed to be a constant variation of “I know honey, but you’re safe now. I’ve got you sweetheart.”

It wasn’t until your victory tour that he told you. You doubt he ever would have, if he didn’t know for sure it would happen to you.

He had sat you down on the train after a party in District Two and told you everything. How Snow would practically sell him to people. How he didn’t have a say, and how you wouldn’t either, unless you wanted everyone you loved to be dead. He had grabbed your hands, shaking hand in shaking hand, and apologized profusely. He told you how he would do everything possible to keep you safe, he would offer himself instead of you. But you knew that wouldn’t work. Snow gets what Snow wants, and if Snow wants you to fuck his friends for some sick favor, there was nothing you, or Finnick, could do to stop that from happening.

“Oh.”

“Yah.” Was all Finnick said, refusing to meet you gaze as he stared out at the ocean. He’s working one of the muscles in his jaw and you have to look away before you grab his face and do something stupid.

“When will you be back?” You don’t say it, but you’re sure he understands the meaning. Please say it’ll only be one night. Please tell me they won’t put you through it more than once this time. Please tell me you’ll be back to hold me through the nightmares soon. Please don’t make me wait for you more than I already do.

“I’m not sure. Snow said a couple of days.”

No no no no no no no please no.

You didn’t respond. Scared that if you open your mouth the bile collecting in your throat would spill out.

You just look over at him. Take him in. It’s no wonder why the capitol loves him so much. Although not for his humor, his kindness, his strength, the way he’s always looking out for everyone but himself. None of that. Just because he’s a pretty face. But in the bright, golden sun, you find it hard to disagree with them. He’s all broad shoulders and a strong jawline. Bright green eyes that always seem to shine when they look at you. Sharp teeth hiding behind that perfect fucking smile. Salty hair you wanted to run your fingers through. Credit where credit is due, the capitol knows how to pick a sex symbol.

But you don’t see a sex symbol. Not right now. Right now all you see is the person you want to hold on to, and never let go of. The person you’d throw it all away for, if he asked. The person who seemed to always have another layer for you to work your way into, but you’d be damned if you ever stopped trying to get to the root of him.

You’ve been staring for an embarrassingly long amount of time. Finnick notices, of course, because Finnick notices everything.

“Honey?”

You tear your eyes away from where they had been tracing the veins in his hands. “Hm?”

“You ok?” And there it is. That fucking wolf smile. All sharp canines and slightly raised eyebrows because he knows. He knows he’s got you in between his teeth and he knows you’re happy to stay there because it’s him.

You pause, but just for a moment, trying not to give him the satisfaction of winning, of successfully flustering you. But his eyes are boring into yours and it’s so hard to look away from him, but you do. He wins. He normally does.

“‘M just thinking.”

“What about?” He asks. Flopping down on his side, trying to get on eye level with you because it’s never just enough for him to win, he has to make sure you know that he knows it.

You just roll your eyes at him, there’s nothing else you can do.

“About how we’ve been out here since nine in the morning and it’s after noon now, and you haven’t reapplied sunscreen once.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes now.

“I don’t burn, honey, you know that.”

“What about that time you were out all day, didn’t put sunscreen on once, and then I had to rub aloe vera on your back for a week because you burned like hell and all of your skin was peeling off?” You ask, smile working its way onto your face. You know you’ve got him. You’re winning now.

He pauses, he doesn’t back down easily. “It was a fluke. A glitch, even.” He says, trying his best to shrug his shoulders even though he’s lying down. He fails. It looks ridiculous. You have to try not to laugh. “I honestly think the sun just had a vendetta against me that day.”

You’re failing at biting back a smile now. “At least let me get your back because there is literally nothing you could say or do to ever get me to help you with a third degree sunburn again.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just makes a big show of groaning and rolling his eyes at you before rolling onto his back.

You’ve won.

“So dramatic? You know that? It’s like being friends with a child.” You say as you root around in your bag for your sunscreen. Trying to ignore the disgusting feeling you know it will leave on your hands as you squirt it out.

He props himself up on his elbows to look at you, surely about to counter with some story about you being much more dramatic than him, before you shove him back down, face in the sand.

“Ow.”

“You’re fine. A little sand never killed anyone.”

You decide to ignore his grumbling, focusing on spreading the sunscreen on his back. However, you can’t ignore the growing pit in your stomach that you know will be there until Finnick’s back from the capitol.

Still, they can’t take this from you. You’ve earned it. You deserve to be here, definitely not checking out your best friend who you know you can’t have.

You lose yourself for a moment. Letting yourself focus on the way his muscles feel under your hands. Maybe, one day, this could be real. The capitol will find new, attractive victors, and they’ll move on. You and Finnick can fade into the background, and just live.

You pull back, and grab the tube again, squirting it directly on his back. You start to rub it in before pausing for a moment, why not?

Quickly, you write your name in the sunscreen on his back. Snow has cameras everywhere. Maybe he’s watching. Maybe he’s not. But either way, at least for a second, you can say mine. All mine. You can’t take him from me, not really.

He feels it, lifting his head up just as you’re wiping away the evidence.

“Are you drawing on my back?”

You flash him your own smile. A little less wolfish, a little more coy.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺

A/n: Hi omg I wrote this in one sitting😭this has just been rattling around in my head for weeks now and I had to get it out lol. Constructive criticism and feedback is always appreciated, I hope you all enjoyed<3

[harmlessghosty]

the Touchstarved LIs and the shenanigans they would commit at a pool/beach (nsfw or sfw whatever u wanna do, I'm just obsessed with the idea of them being sillies)

Not me being from total beach-town and sitting here like, “Mm, yes, what does one do at the beach??”

Just a few little headcanons with a little spicy here and there. Nothing more vulgar than what’s implied in the game though!

***

Kuras

- Very much conservatively dressed—total rash guard over his arms and legs and conscious of sunburns.

- In fact, he’s so cautious that he brings extra sunscreen and offers to reapply it for you every time you get out of the water or every couple of hours when it’s most washed away by sweat. Definitely takes extra time massaging it into your skin, using the excuse that he’s just being sure but really wants to touch you more.

- “I certainly don’t want to have to treat burns. I’ve seen more than my fair share of those.”

- Ties up his hair into a loose bun when he gets in the water. It just takes so long to dry that he doesn’t want to soak it down.

- Sneakily will dunk you beneath the water (assuming you haven’t told him firmly not to do it) by caressing your waist from behind before plunging your body under or throwing you away from him so that you go under. Gives a clever smile and swims toward you to lift you high enough that your shoulders are out of the water and he can nuzzle your nose. (He’s so tall……)

- “You’re soaked. Perhaps I should towel you off sooner rather than later.”

- Is secretly eyeing your body from behind a textbook he brought to read while sunbathing. If you catch him, he makes the excuse that he’s just looking for any signs of concerning spots or redness, but really his eyes are wandering.

***

Leander

- How little clothes is he required to wear at the beach or a public pool? Is a thong okay, or must you insist he covers his pride more than that?

- Sincerely forgets that other people are around and blares music or speaks so loudly that others will turn his way. He’s lucky he’s so attractive because, with little more than a grin and a flirty apology, no one cares. He’ll offer them a nice drink or a sandwich, and all is forgiven.

- Brings all the supplies you could possibly want. What should you do first? What if you play volleyball, or maybe you can build sandcastles, or bat a beach ball back and forth? Everyone around you can join in too, if they want!

- “The more the merrier! Oh, you’re not very good at this. Well, practice makes perfect. Don’t give up just yet!”

- Doesn’t want to reveal the scars across his chest, but doesn’t mind if it’s around strangers he won’t ever see again. If it’s with friends, he’ll wear a tank top to cover most of them, but overall, he won’t mind too much. If anyone dares to push asking about them, a little frown is all it takes to shut them up.

- Gets bored easily if he’s not moving around. If you just want to lie there and sunbathe, expect an arm around your waist or him plucking at the elastic of your suit.

- “It isn’t often we get to visit such nice water. We should swim while we get the chance. Besides, I wouldn’t want that pretty bathing suit to not get used.”

***

Vere

- Immediately flirts the moment he sees you in your bathing suit. Eyes narrow. Smirk widens. He saunters up to you and slips sharp nails around your waist as though threatening to rip it off of you, which he very well might do the moment you’re away from any prying eyes.

- “Why don’t you take a dip to cool off? I wouldn’t mind seeing you dripping wet.”

- Doesn’t like going in the water much, but will hang off your arm or lift you into his lap and carry you around if he does. As a Monster, he’s more than strong enough to carry you outside of the water, but this is much less effort on his part…and more slick too.

- “Nude beaches are more entertaining than this. Perhaps next time, I’ll be able to see all of you spread out before me. I can already imagine the sun glimmering off of your…delicate…skin…”

- Are you nervous to show off your body? Expect him to be a hype man, ready to shower you with compliments until you’re blushing from more than just the heat of the sun.

- Wears the most expensive bathing suit, and the most glamorous. After all, if he’s not swimming very much, then what does it matter if it’s got glitter, metal, or velvet? He looks handsome enough to eat, doesn’t he? Consider humoring him later.

- Is very cautious of keeping his tail and ears free of sand. It’s uncomfortable and hard to rinse off.

***

Ais

- Will absolutely lift and throw you into the pool or the waves. Sorry, but it’s cute to see you resurface all annoyed that he got you wet or that the water is cold.

- Watches others with suspicion if they happen to look at you. It’s not that he’s super overprotective, but he doesn’t want anyone to get the idea that you’re available. If someone starts making conversation, he makes it clear that they’re not welcome.

- “Sun’s pretty hot, but the breeze is cold. Should really get closer if you don’t want to freeze.”

- Spends more time in the water than anyone else. It feels like a second home to him, for several unusual reasons. Don’t ask.

- Carries you around in the water and burrows into your neck with hot breaths. Who cares if someone thinks he’s being too touchy? You’re his. That’s all there is to it.

- Will easily get mad if there are too many screaming kids around, but has a soft spot for ones that are playing quieter games, building sandcastles, or collecting shells. Thinks about finding hermit crabs to give those shells to.

- “Didn’t think there’d be so many people around. Guess I can’t convince you to show me any tan lines, huh?”

***

Mhin

- Wears a loose t-shirt and shorts, not trying to cover themself much but being careful not to show off too much of their body.

- “Why is everyone so loud? It’s public. Have some respect for others.”

- Too proud to ask for help with sunscreen, but expects you to notice that they’re struggling to reach their back. When you do start to help them, they close their eyes and lean into it, then pout slightly when you’re done before offering to help with yours.

- Probably falls into a hole some jerk didn’t fill up and face-plants into the sand. It’s not that they’re uncoordinated, but sometimes they just aren’t that lucky. Curses way too loud about it and gets some glares, but they glare back just as hard.

- “Get in the shade. You’re sweating like a whore in church. Why don’t you try harder to protect yourself? Geez, here’s some water.”

- Sits beneath an umbrella most of the time, but eventually wanders into the water and swims around with you using a single pool noodle. It’s just nice to be next to you in the water, quietly enjoying floating around.

- Doesn’t bring their dagger, but keeps a close eye out for any creepy people who look like they’ll cause trouble. Quickly moves you and your stuff away from the crowds if they sense a weirdo around.

[rustboxstarr]

🖤 The babysitter doesn't leave for another hour 🖤

Summary: You and Eddie aren't ready to go home just yet

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Mom!Reader

Warnings: smut, slight handjob, fingering, P in V, semi public sex (car sex).

Wordcount: 1.7 k

A/N: This is so bad, ya'll I'm so sorry, I'm just trying so hard rn to get out of my writers block because I miss yall!!! I just can't fricking write 😭

Anyway, love yas!

Check out my other works!

“You have no idea how much I missed this” the smile you bore was adorable droopy as you stared up at your husband, eyes swimming with adoration as you hung around his arm. “Just sad it's over” he rolled his eyes softly, a small tug gracing his lips. For once you had finally managed to find a sitter and indulge in dinner and a movie all cozied up with Eddie, but the night had to come to an end at some point right?

Eddie's steps were slow as he led you out of the double doors to the car, taking care to stretch the time however he could. He didn't want this night to end, sure you both loved your kids but some time with just each other was a quality of life that was dearly missed. 

You sigh in a strange mix of contentment and deflation as you sit down in the passenger seat. “Good movie though” your head rolls on your shoulders to find Eddie settling in beside you, “It was wasn’t it?” Your eyes gaze out towards the dark parking lot. Neither of you were really ready to head home and as a result you found the both of you just sat next to each other staring out the window, neither of you making a move to start the car and make your way back to the house. 

“To be honest…” you whisper before finding the sharp jawline that you always loved to press your lips to, “I don’t even know what it was about” you snort as he finds your slack figure next to him. “Me neither” the chuckle that sounds about the car has your chest heating up.

“Yeah, got a bit… intense” you giggle, “To say the least” his laugh has your body fluttering as he speaks. His lips find yours as you both laugh at the fresh memory of what could only be explained as a PG 13 grope session. His nose nuzzles against yours as your eyes travel down to his watch when he runs a strong hand up and down your thigh. “You know.. the babysitter isn’t leaving for another hour” anything above a whisper wasn’t needed, he could practically hear your heartbeat in the silence of the night. 

You mimic his movements as he leans back in his seat, “What do you wanna’ do?” He smiles, placing his hands on the steering wheel ready to take you wherever you want to go. 

You scan the parking lot, it’s practically empty, save for a few cars on the other end. A wicked grin spreads across your face before you push yourself up on the seat and try to smoothly swing your leg over the centre console. Callused hands find your hips as you get situated in his lap, “Why don’t we take advantage of a whole kid free hour with no one to disturb? Make up for some lost time?” Your fingers dance along his neck, playing with the loose strand of curls that hangs free from his bun.

“I like how you’re thinking” his lips find yours is a soft but feverish kiss, hands squeezing your hips tight as if you were about to slip away from him. “But how about we take this to the back?” He whispers against your lips. You bite your lip in a smile and nod, eagerly clambering off of him as you open the door.

He grins wildly as he follows suit, opening the back door and with a small bow gestures you in “after you mi’lady” you giggle as you sit down and scootch your way over to the other side. You try to be patient as he scans the parking lot for any bypassers but when he’s finally made himself comfortable in the middle you all but pounce on him. Thigh swinging over his lap, attacking his lips with sloppy kisses while his hands wrap around you.

Your black satin bodycon dress has already ridden up your thighs but Eddie needs more, lips still attached to yours he forces the fabric over your ass and lets it bunch up around your waist as he grabs two hefty handfuls of your ass, pressing you down against his throbbing cock, encouraging you to roll your hips against him.

“Oh fuck” you whine softly as his zipper catches your clit which only has him forcing you down harder. It’s all a delicious mix of hot breaths and tongues as the stars shine bright in the night sky behind you. 

You can’t take it anymore, the sensation of his thick cock pressing so deliciously against your heat has fiery tingles prickling around your thighs. In a hazy haste you manage to find his belt buckle below you and with a second of your fingers grazing his stomach Eddie's hands are there instantly to assist you. You kneel back to watch as he’s revealed to you. Precum dribbling from his painfully hard cock but before he gets a chance to release himself of some of the ache your hand wraps around him. Delicate hand pumping him slowly as your lips reattach.

His tongue feels like heaven against your own, he’s desperately grabbing at anything he can get his hands on before he finds what he’s looking for and sinks his fingers into the meat of your ass.

You gasp as you feel a hand move between the backs of your thighs to feel thick fingers running down your folds over your dark cotton panties.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you’re distracted from your task of giving both Eddies lips and his cock attention. He's quick to move your panties to the side and slip a finger inside your dripping cunt. Having no trouble getting a second in as you're practically gushing for him. 

All you can focus on is the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of you before you find his eyes and find him eagerly watching every twitch of your face. Your own hand starts up again and you revel in the sight of his own eyes rolling to the back of his head. 

As if trying to one up you, his hand moves faster, you smirk down at him silently competing with him as you too begin pumping his cock faster. 

“Shit, shit” he pants “okey okey, I’m gonna cum if we don’t stop soon” he slowly opens his eyes to find your lips tugging down and accompanying doe eyes “Isn’t that the point?” The pout is instantly replaced with a wicked smirk. 

“Not just yet” he grins and pulls his fingers away from you, replacing his hand on the globe of your ass and harshly pulling you towards him. Your hand is being pushed away before you know it and you gasp loudly when you feel his tip running through your folds.

He has lined himself up with you and is pushing you down before you can even utter a word, all you can do is let out an obnoxiously loud moan as his cock stretches you open. You hear him swear loudly in the distance as you sink down. 

God you should have date night more often because this was unbelievable. Eddie's thick head almost probing at your cervix, his shaft gliding so easily against your wet walls, his fingers digging into your flesh, bound to leave marks.

You were too desperate to really soak up the feeling of his thick cock pressing at your walls, instantly kneeling back up again to feel him slowly slide back into you again. A loud moan that had Eddie throbbing spilled from your lips as he watched you set a slow pace of forcing yourself up and down his cock. 

But he knew that if you continued like this there was no way he wouldn't be shooting his load up into you within a matter of seconds. If even possible his fingers sunk further into your skin as he nudged you to go slightly faster. You took his hint and sped your hips up slowly, each loud groan rumbling from his chest spurring you on as you felt your wetness begin to pool at the base of his cock. 

“Shit babe” Eddie huffed as you began bouncing in his lap, short, loud moans filling his ears, each getting more high pitched the faster you went until you finally found the quick pace that had your thighs burning and the leather creaking with every move. You were most definitely shaking the car right now, not making your action discreet whatsoever but you couldn't care not when his cock felt so delicious inside you. 

“Fuck, yeah thats it, ride me baby. Shit, look so sexy bouncing on my dick” he groaned as his hands helped guide your movements, listening to every moan you gifted him with. “Fucking love bouncing on your dick baby” you whined as your head fell back, eyes rolled to the back of your head, solely focused on chasing your own release.

It was a scrumptious mix of loud moans, groans, incoherent babble from your fucked out husband, sloppy kisses and hands grabbing at anything and everything. You suddenly felt that familiar knot in your stomach tightening, “Shit Eddie” you breathed “Eddie I’m about to cum!” Your movements only increased in speed as his words fell on deaf ears until finally the knot snapped and you felt your cunt gush around him. 

It was all a blur as your ears rang and your vision went completely white but finally you managed to regain your consciousness. Your hands found his shoulders to steady yourself as you let Eddie guide you up and down, abusing your overstimulated pussy until you felt yourself being forced down all the way, his forehead finding purchase between your tits. The head of his cock buried deep within you as a loud groan vibrated against your chest while hot spurts of cum painted your walls. 

You slumped against him and it felt like forever as you tried to catch your breath again. 

“Shit” he chuckled, planting a kiss to your lips. “We should probably get home” you whispered, “Yeah, we probably should” he sighed. 

“I don’t wanna’ leave just yet. Can’t we just stay like this for a little?” he whispered against your lips, “Yeah” you smiled.

[anonymous-dentist]

War is hell, so Bad feels right at home every time he steps onto the battlefield and pulls out his sword and watches the humans run for their tiny little insignificant lives. He isn’t a monster, so he only kills them when he needs to. (Who is he, Foolish?)

Some of the humans have started teaming up. The strong with the strong, the weak huddling with the weak. It’s pointless when they die, because everyone is alone in the End, but it’s the thought that counts.

Bad himself played solo for a long time, but now he’s managed to get himself a human teammate of his own. A… weird little ragamuffin of a teammate.

“Hey, Bad!”

Bad looks up from his soup to see Candy waving some guy’s arm around like it’s his own, a big toothy grin on his muddy little face.

Bad waves back. “C’mere, dinner’s ready!”

Candy grimaces, but he brings himself and his arm over to the fire, and he picks up the bowl of mushroom soup, and he digs in.

Candy is a strange child.

He’s a cannibal, for one, which is apparently rare among humans; when Bad picked him up, Candy had been blacklisted from most of the other teams because he kept eating his teammates. (Which is crazy, because a growing boy needs to eat!) Sometimes Bad will wake up in the middle of the night to someone gnawing on his arm, but that’s fine, whatever flesh he may lose will just grow back. As long as Candy isn’t starving, he’s useful.

And then there’s the whole amnesiac thing. Because, apparently, Candy was dropped into the war from a literal helicopter, and he doesn’t even know his own name, let alone the guys that deposited him. He knows how to kill, though, so he isn’t all that useless.

He’s called Candy because Bad calls him that. He says he doesn’t have a name, but he’s fine with having a nickname for Bad to call out in the heat of battle. He’s named Candy because, well, he likes candy. It’s the one thing he likes to eat besides human flesh, and Bad can’t exactly call a human child “Flesh”. That would be weird.

Candy shivers in the night wind and pulls his flimsy little coat tighter around his shoulders.

With a sigh, Bad pulls his cloak off and drops it on top of Candy’s head; Candy shouts, but he wiggles the cloak down around his shoulders, practically swimming in it.

(Candy is so small, it’s hard to believe he’s fifteen. Between the supposed white helicopter that brought him to war and the amnesia and the burn scars on his temples, Bad has an idea as to what happened, but, honestly, he doesn’t care. Really. Because Candy is going to die any day now, and he’ll be much happier in the afterlife.)

“I’ve been thinking,” says Candy.

Bad gasps dramatically. “Really?”

Candy ignores him: “When I get out of here, I wanna be a detective.”

And isn’t that a thought, escaping the war? Of course, Bad can leave at any time. But the humans like Candy are trapped.

(Occasionally, Bad has thought about leaving and bringing Candy with him to start training as his replacement, but the kid isn’t quite Grim Reaper material beyond being astonishingly good at killing people.)

“What, so you can find your family?” Bad asks.

Candy shakes his head. “I want to find the helicopter. I want to kill them.”

“Oooh, good idea! When you do, send me pictures!”

“Duh,” Candy scoffs. He points his spoon at Bad with a roll of the eyes all the attitude of a human teenager. “But you’re actually coming with me, sooooo….”

Bad raises an eyebrow. “Am I?”

Candy nods. “Yeah! We’re teammates! You have to be there!”

With that fire in his eyes and the blood still crusting his lips and fingers, it’s easy to see why this kid is one of the most feared soldiers out there. It’s why Bad has kept him so long. (He definitely isn’t attached, shhh!)

So Bad nods, playing along. “Sure, sure.”

Because, really, Candy is going to be dead soon. Call it a gut feeling. Nobody Bad has ever gotten along with has survived this long, so the poor kid is going to die in a few days. The war is going to take him like it’s taken so many others, and there’s nothing Bad can do about it.

And, four days later when they get separated in a battle, Bad doesn’t bother looking for him when the bodies are all on the floor. Candy isn’t among them, but he’s probably off dying in a ditch somewhere else.

Bad flicks the blood off his sword and stalks into the night in search of his next victory, not noticing two tear-filled, terrified blue eyes following him until he’s out of sight.

(And eleven years later when Bad sees Cellbit in the ruins of a crashed cargo ship, and when Cellbit notices him and immediately bursts into a huge grin, Bad almost wonders if he’s managed to break the curse after all.)

[eddiemunsonw]

Like a dog

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

Summary: Happens after Gator gets his ass kicked in episode 2. He clearly needs some help, but he's independent, right? He can take care of this himself, for sure.

CW/Disclaimer: A bit of angst? Gator is having some inner struggles and you're doing your best to accommodate him. And yeah, a bit of misogyny in there too, nothing too strong though I would say. Also some fluff and humor, I barely can do without.

Author's note: The title is misleading, but it'll make sense once you start reading it.

Words: 2319

Gator

His ears were ringing, but apart from that no sound seemed to be coming in. He vaguely noticed his cheek was warm, realized it was blood and tried to not freak out. It wasn’t that he was scared of blood, not at all. Sometimes he even got a little kick out of watching things, people bleed. Just not himself.

Then… there was his arm. That was a problem for sure. He had felt the snap, heard it, even, before that asshole used his gun right next to his ear. Last but not least, his groin. His balls and dick felt like they had grown thrice in size in the bad way. He didn’t think there was any enlargement of balls in the good way anyway. But… Yeah. It really fucking hurt.

Getting to the ER was a challenge too. His father was occupied and he didn’t want to ask for his help for something so insignificant. He was independent. He could just walk. Once he stood upright, he felt like dropping to his knees again, his vision swimming. Everything hurt so much it was nearly blinding. He would’ve thrown up if… wait, had he thrown up? He tasted blood but he had also bitten his tongue, so… Whatever. One step at a time. And fingers crossed that shitbird wouldn’t find him.

You

The crash, followed by a yelp and a cry of pain startled you as you were restocking supplies. You rushed to the front and found a guy, a familiar guy, on the floor, holding his arm as he groaned in pain. Quickly, you kneeled down on the floor next to him, gently touching his shoulder.

“He—”

“Don’t touch me!”

His whole body tensed up and he twisted away from your touch. In the moment, it didn’t register to you as funny even though a bystander could probably see the humor of it as he wiggled away from you, groaning and moaning in pain as he did.

“I assume you’re here for a reason. How about we get you upright and in the chair, so I can check you out?”

Gator finally lifted his head to look at you and squinted. You noticed he was sweating, which wasn’t good. His eyes narrowed even more and a scowl pulled the corners of his mouth down.

“Are you even qualified?”

“Do you want help or not?” you deadpanned.

He managed to lift himself up to lean against the door and tried to cross his arms but remembered one wasn’t really cooperating and winced.

“Are you qualified?”

“To take care of dogs? Yeah, I am.”

Gator’s eyes flamed and you could tell he wanted to lurch forward, probably grasp your throat to shut you up. It didn’t help that you were smiling at him. Lucky for you, he was in too much pain to act on his deepest desires. Instead, he nearly spat the words out he said next.

“What are you calling me?”

You laughed dryly. Gator Tillman. He hadn’t changed a bit since school.

“Funny you immediately assume I’m talking about you. You’re at a vet. This isn’t the ER, Gator.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, taken aback. Only now he actually properly looked around. He seemed to have a hard time focusing his vision still. “What kind of bad business are you running here? There’s no one! Also that’s Sheriff Tillman for you.”

You looked at him, rolled your eyes and walked to the back to make yourself some coffee. He could wait. If he wanted to act like an entitled brat he should have gone to the actual ER. You knew barking dogs rarely bite. After a few minutes, he called out.

“Hey! Are you gonna help me or not?”

“Depends,” you shouted from the back, “are you gonna stop acting like a dick or not, Deputy?”

A silence. One that dragged on long enough for you to walk back to the front with your coffee in hand. Maybe you hadn’t heard the door open and close? Wrong. His eyes met yours immediately when you looked down, lips pressed tightly together, whether out of pain or annoyance with you, you weren’t sure. You gave him a pointed glance and a quip of your brow, waiting.

“Yes.”

With some help, you got him to sit on the examination table, which immediately required a remark from him, of course.

“Can this thing even handle my weight?”

You eyed him up and down slowly, a slow smirk forming. His frown deepened as you let the silence settle between you and he shifted uncomfortably on the table.

“Yeah. You look like you weigh about the size of a chubby golden retriever.”

“I workout every day!” he spluttered, as if that was the point.

“Okay? Point is, it can take you. No need to worry your little head over it. Anyway… let’s see.”

You could feel Gator’s eyes following you as you gathered some supplies, knowing you wouldn’t be able to help him with everything. The best you could probably do was give him a ride to those that could. You turned around and lifted your hand to his face, gently wiping away the blood that had leaked from his ear. His hand grabbed your wrist tightly when you came closer to his ear and he hissed out in pain. His grip was painful, but you could tell by his ragged breaths that he wasn’t doing it out of malice. He was scared.

“Hey…” you started softly, leaning back to look at him. You stood between his legs and while you were smaller than him, were able to see eye to eye due to the height of the table. “You do need to go to the ER. Get you checked out. I can make you a temporary splint for your arm but I don’t wanna mess with it too much as it’s not my expertise to work on humans. I can give you a ride? Is there anything else that hurts?”

He mumbled something incomprehensible and avoided your eyes.

“Sorry?”

“My junk. I think I need to like, cool it or something,” he said reluctantly. You nodded and walked away from him to grab a gel pack from the freezer, but the hand around your wrist stopped you. As you turned around he was quick to avoid your gaze once again and dropped your wrist.

“You might want to take your pants off.”

“Hah?”

“For the gel pack,” you mumbled as you placed a gel pack wrapped in a towel next to him. He frowned but started fumbling with the button of his cargos anyway. You already wrote a note to stick on your door that you’d be out for a bit and added the emergency number of the nearest vet just in case.

“Fuck!”

His voice startled you and as you turned around you noticed he was still struggling with his button. His vest was slightly in the way as well as his belt, which didn’t help.

“Need help?”

“No.”

He continued to try, frustration rising. The soft whimpers and groans made you pity him a little. After a while he looked closer to crying and you couldn’t just stand by and watch. You made your way back, standing between his legs again and gently swatted his hand away. To your surprise, he didn’t object. Instead, he softly gasped, stammering softly as your hand accidentally grazed him. You were unsure whether it was out of pain or… something else. A quick glance at his face confirmed that he was focusing on your hand, lips parted slightly. His usual slicked back hair was messier than usual and only now you noticed the dried up tear streaks on his face. You pulled down his zipper and stepped back so he could get off the table. He slowly lifted his gaze, cheeks slightly flushed and if you weren’t mistaken, his lower lip trembled a little.

“Can you stand?”

Quietly, Gator pushed himself off the table and stood in front of you, taller again. Except, he looked rather small, looking down at his feet like that. He sighed shakily, making no move.

“Do you need help, or…”

He shook his head and pushed his pants down just enough to reveal his boxers before getting himself back on the table and covering himself with the gel pack. A sigh of relief was heard but other than that, he made no comments, no snarky remarks. Very uncharacteristic really. Or maybe it was just him without the forceful mask on his face.

“I’ll grab something for your arm, I’ll—”

You turned away from him again but before you could step away you felt his hand enclose around your wrist again. The gel pack fell to the ground with a soft thud.

“Don’t.”

“I…” you hesitated on what to say.

“Please.”

His voice sounded fragile now, shaky. You nodded and slowly bent down to grab the gel pack and handed it back to him as he let go of your wrist again. While you weren’t sure what he wanted, you made sure to stay. There seemed to be a lot going on in that head of his. Suddenly quite aware of your close proximity, you didn’t know where to look. Even though his crotch was covered with the gel pack, it was still weird to stand between his legs as his cargos dropped below his knees and slowly sagged down. Your gaze was focused to the side, which is why you didn’t immediately notice how he slowly bent forward until his forehead rested on your shoulder. It sounded like he was holding his breath, anticipating your reaction nervously. 

Without thinking, you put an arm around him, your hand soothingly rubbing circles between his shoulder blades. A shuddering breath left him as he relaxed against you. A few minutes in, at least it felt like some, you felt him tense up again. Not much later you felt something wet dripping down your collarbone. He was crying.

“If it’s hurting that badly, maybe we should…”

“No,” he croaked out, arm reaching out to clutch at your hip.

“Okay. Take as much time as you need. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. I’m weak,” he managed to grunt. You weren’t surprised that a guy whose father was Roy Tillman had some deep self-loathing to deal with. In school it had always been obvious he felt pressured about living up to his father’s expectations. To be deserving of the Tillman name. He was as cocky as he was insecure. Still, no amount of pain justified being a grade-A dick to others. And yet… here you were, comforting the classic example of a grade-A dick.

“I don’t think you’re weak at all. Weak people don’t call themselves weak,” you told him softly, continuously rubbing his back. His breath shuddered when you gently readjusted the gel pack for him as it was slipping again.

“As if you know anything about weakness or strength,” he bit out, “you’re a female.”

“Right,” you mumbled, unimpressed. “Guess you’re weak then.”

A silence followed, apart from his soft sniffs, a reminder of his earlier crying. You felt him lift his forehead from your shoulder, breath tracing your jawline before his lips followed in its path. Your breath hitched, heartbeat quickening. Suddenly, his lips crashed on yours, demanding intimacy, taking it with some desperation. His lips felt chapped and for a second you were tempted to meet the roughness of his kiss but something in you held back.

In one quick move you pulled back and slapped him in the face. On the sensitive side, no less. He winced and looked betrayed, hand flying up to grab your wrist once more, tightening his grip until it hurt. You watched him closely, careful but not scared.

“Better not try that again without asking,” you warned.

“Or what?” Gator mumbled, his mouth curled down. Clearly not used to not getting his way. Well, too bad for him it had been you he wanted to kiss.

“Or I’ll squeeze your bad arm as hard as you’re squeezing my wrist right now.”

As if forgotten, Gator looked at his own hand and let go immediately, huffing a response you couldn’t make out clearly.

“Well then, shall we go?” you offered, not wanting to drag this out any longer. His injuries needed to be taken care of already. With clear disappointment he got up from the table and he let you help him get his pants back in place. The moment his hand reached out for your wrist you quickly pulled away and he looked up with genuine remorse. Hmm, interesting.

“Sorry,” he sighed and this time you let him take hold of your wrist, surprised when his touch was gentle as he rubbed his thumb over the most sore spot. “You’ve been all nice to me and I’ve been…”

“Yourself,” you finished with a shrug. Hurt crossed his eyes only for a second and you followed his gaze down to your wrist, where his touch was still so gentle.

“I’m not always like… that. I’m not.”

You cocked your head and watched him until his eyes met yours. There was a hesitance in them, but also determination. A soft smile graced your lips, which was met with the subtlest widening of his eyes.

“Maybe you could tell me more about that other you then, after we’ve patched you up.”

“Oh,” he said softly, followed by a nod. “Okay.”

“Come on, Sheriff Tillman.”

He smiled at your sarcastic, teasing tone and moved his hand down to yours to give it a light squeeze before letting go.

“Gator,” he corrected softly. “Just call me Gator, Y/N.”

“I was wondering if you’d remembered my name,” you chuckled.

“I always remember the pretty ones.”

“Flirting now, are we?”

“Maybe.” 

He tried to play it off cool. Until curiosity got the best of him. 

“Is it working?”

“Maybe.”

It was.

If you enjoyed this fic, please comment and/or reblog! It spreads my fic to other people to enjoy whereas a like does not, as much as I appreciate those too :) It would mean a lot <3

[stevesjockstrap]

Closer

@steddiesongfics Closer - Nine Inch Nails

@subeddieweek first time, praise kink

Rated E • cw: under negotiated kink, semi-public sex, accidental subspace • read on ao3

Eddie groaned dramatically when he was sent over to Steve Harrington’s team. Skipping out on gym class most of the beginning of the semester meant he needed to be here now and show Coach that he wanted to pass. He was going to fucking graduate this year if it killed him.

Help me get away from myself

He found himself looking at Steve in their quick huddle between plays of the flag football game though, realizing Steve’s passion and energy was seeping into him.

“Munson, cover Derek and keep an eye on me, I’ll toss it to you if I need to.”

Following directions had never been Eddie's strong suit. But for some reason, he found himself hanging on Steve’s every demand, biting his lip and nodding because he couldn’t trust his voice from wobbling if he answered. He could listen and make Steve proud of him. He could be whatever Steve wanted him to be.

“Nice hustle, Munson!” The coach called out.

But it was nothing compared to the wide grin and “Amazing catch, man. Get back out there and I’ll throw it to you again,” from Steve.

My whole existence is flawed

There was a warm buzzing starting low in his belly that had never appeared in this setting before. Maybe in the locker rooms if he was really desperate, keeping his eyes lowered so he didn’t confirm the rumors about himself.

“Go right!” His body moved instantly to comply with Steve’s shout behind him and the football fell into his arms. “Yes! Go go go!”

Steve excitedly getting in his face in the end zone was better than any high he’d achieved with illegal substances.

They were told to switch around teams halfway through and his heart sank.

“Munson’s with me, Coach!”

His head popped up to meet Steve’s cocky grin. He wanted to cement this moment in his memory forever.

The coach shrugged and waved him off, heading out a side door probably to sneak a cigarette.

“Pays to be the golden boy, huh?” Eddie teased, feeling braver now. Refusing to get his hopes up but clinging to this new feeling coursing through his body.

“You have no idea,” he smirked back before lobbing the ball towards him. “We’re on defense now. Stay on Tommy, he’s quick. You catch better than him though, you might even snag an interception.”

He wasn’t entirely sure what that meant so Eddie just nodded, swallowing down the urge to say what was swimming around his brain.

You can have my everything

“Eddie, get him!”

His body moved on its own accord, pulling Tommy’s flag from his belt and ignoring the sneer from him. Instead, immediately turning to find the ray of sunshine that was Steve coming right for him with a gorgeous grin. Oh fuck was he in trouble.

Eddie preened under the shoulder pat and bro hug he received, trying to keep his hands to himself and praying to whoever listened to metalhead prayers that his tiny shorts and baggy shirt was covering his excitement.

He almost came in his pants when Steve slapped his ass as they headed to the locker room. “Good game, Ed!”

You tear down my reason

Refusing to shower, he just dunked his head in the sink to cool off, and took his time changing. Predictably, Steve was still at the mirror fretting over his hair as everyone else hurried out to get to their next class.

“The King doesn’t need to be on time to history?” Eddie joked as he sidled up to him at the counter.

“Nah, Mrs. Jacobs loves me.”

Eddie hummed, watching Steve’s fingers move in his thick hair, guiding pieces up and forward. What he would give to be manhandled like that, put wherever Steve wanted him to be and told to stay.

He blinked at himself in the mirror. That was new.

(Help me) it’s your sex I can smell

“See something you like, Eds?” The newest manipulation of his name made him gasp, and his head shot around to the real Steve next to him.

“Uhh.”

Steve huffed a laugh at him that sent a zing of want up his spine.

Eddie watched him gather up his stuff, wiping his hands on his dirty towel. He was jealous of the towel for a second before Steve rounded on him, pressing him against the counter.

“Please,” Eddie gasped, unable to hold it back any longer.

“Please what, baby?”

His eyes almost rolled back as Steve pressed a thick thigh between his into his hardness, but he was trapped in the hazel abyss of his eyes.

“I don’t know,” he whined. “Just- ah! Please.”

Steve looked down his nose at him, somehow reading him like a book. “Just wanna do whatever I say, don’t you? Wanna be good for me?”

Eddie nodded furiously, realizing he was panting and his fists were clenched by his sides. “Yes! Y-yes sir.”

Steve groaned at that, his hips jolting forward and grinding their jean covered lengths together. “Oh fuck. That’s it. You’re gunna let me do whatever I want, aren’t you?”

He opened his mouth to respond but it was overtaken by skilled lips and a hot tongue. Eddie had never been kissed like this before, rough and desperate and mind-melting. He heard himself make an embarrassingly needy noise as he realized he could touch Steve now.

Steve hissed when Eddie’s hands rucked up his polo shirt to get into the back of his khaki slacks. Using his grip on the magnificent ass, he pulled Steve impossibly closer, grinding against each other desperately.

When he had to pull away from the kiss to suck in a breath, Steve’s talented mouth trailed wet biting kisses down his neck.

“Do you want to make us to come in our pants, or should you get on your knees for me?” Steve leaned back to look deep into his eyes and Eddie’s stomach swooped.

“Oh my god,” he panted. He knew which he would prefer but a part of him wanted Steve to force him, order him to do it.

Steve’s face darkened and he smirked at him. “My good boy wants me to pick though, huh?”

Something about the ‘my’ went straight to his dick and Eddie rutted forward, gasping as he got caught under the chin and pulled into another searing kiss.

“On your knees.”

Gazing up from the gross tiled floor, Eddie only had eyes for Steve.

“Look at you,” Steve purred. “Look so good following orders.” Eddie soaked in the praise, letting it fill up his chest with warmth, his eyes falling closed. “Take my cock out. Now.” His hardened voice brooked no argument and Eddie popped up, scrambling to undo his belt.

Tugging his tighty whiteys down and under his balls, he groaned when Steve cupped his jaw and held him still to swipe the head of his dick across his lips.

“These lips have always drove me crazy, you know that?”

Lapping his tongue across the soft skin, he sunk even deeper into this fuzzy warmth in his head. His eyes shuttered closed as he tried to nuzzle closer, but the grip on his jaw tightened.

“Open your eyes, Eds,” Steve demanded.

It was a struggle to get his eyes to cooperate, but he moaned when he was able to look up from under his lashes at Steve, standing wide legged and in complete control hovering over him.

“Good boy. Gunna fuck this perfect mouth of yours. And you’re going to fucking love it.”

Eddie nodded against his hand and tried to wriggle even closer between his spread legs. “Y-yeah, want it. Please.” He was panting and he didn’t recognize his own voice, so airy and breathless. His mouth was practically watering, waiting to be used.

“Open.”

Eddie widened his mouth and Steve fed him his dick, more slowly than Eddie expected. His hands gripped his muscular thighs and he pushed himself down to the hilt. Immediately gagging and pulling back, Steve laughed meanly at him.

“Take it easy, baby. I know, you’re already so cock drunk, I got you.”

The remaining tension and any worries Eddie had evaporated with that, and he gave a small nod. Steve had him.

(Help me) you make me perfect

Steve’s hips rocked forward but this time Eddie let himself just drift, staring up into Steve’s determined face.

“Oh shit, your fucking mouth, honey. Gunna come down your throat,” Steve groaned, now grabbing a handful of Eddie’s hair to pull him up onto his cock. “Good fucking boy,” he said through clenched teeth.

Eddie relaxed his throat and jaw as much as he could, earning himself a ragged moan from Steve that made his own dick twitch in his jeans.

“Oh my god, Eds. Gunna- fuck, you’re perfect. Oh!”

Steve’s hips jolted hard a few times and Eddie’s eyes watered as he was held to the spasming pelvis, unable to see his face as he came but swallowing as much as he could.

He knew he had a silly grin on his face when Steve pulled back, both panting as the hand in his hair let go to thumb what had spilled out onto his lips and chin back into his mouth. Eddie lapped at the fingers until Steve chuckled at him.

“Grab your stuff,” Steve ordered, Eddie’s feet moving before he realized where he was going. “I’m taking you to my place.”

Help me become somebody else

[mynameismckenziemae]

In Case You Didn’t Know

Part 9

(previous part here, next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x You

Summary: Jake has a surprise for you on the last day in California.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, p in v, pussy slapping, light dom/sub, etc.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

The next 2 days are spent tying up loose ends and spending time with the squad who’d welcomed you with open arms.

It was your final full day in California and you’d spent the afternoon at the beach with Bradley, Natasha, and Bob, with the others planning on heading over in a bit with food and more drinks.

You notice storm clouds in the distance, so you lean back into Jake’s chest. “I think it’ll miss us, but I think it’s time.”

“Okay, where are you thinking?” Jake asks, reaching for your bag holding the small water-biodegradable flower-shaped urn with some of your mom’s ashes.

“There,” you say, nodding to the empty pier over the water.

“I’ll give you a minute alone first?”

“Perfect,” you smile, pressing a kiss to his lips before you rise.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

Tears are rolling down your face as you stand at the edge of the pier, reading the letter you wrote the day before.

Hey Mom,

I’m here in California. I can see why you had it in mind when you were pregnant with me; it’s beautiful. I’m so glad you broke down where you did though.

I still can’t imagine how scared you must’ve been when you found out about me. You were so brave and always so strong. I’m in love with Jake (which you and everyone else apparently knew). I wish you were here to see how happy he makes me. I’m sorry we didn’t figure it out until after you were gone. I miss you.

“You okay?” Jake murmurs as he wraps his arms around you from behind.

“I am,” you sigh. “Just miss her.”

“Me too.”

He holds as you take a deep breath and drop the flower over the calm water, a stark contrast to the storm still in the distance. You both watch it for a few minutes before he releases you and takes a step back.

“Turn around, Charlie.”

The tears don’t stop and your heart begins to pound as you face him.

He’s down on one knee, holding a beautiful diamond ring.

“Yes!” You cry, wrapping your arms around his neck with a happy sob before he even has the chance to ask.

“I had a whole speech planned but I can’t remember any of it,” he chuckles as he places the ring on your finger, barely audible over the cheers and whistles from the squad.

“It doesn’t matter, my answer would still be yes. I love you, Jake. Always have, always will.”

“Charlie, look,” he whispers, nodding over your shoulder.

You smile through your tears as you see a stunning, vibrant rainbow over the water.

Love you too, Mom

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

“I promise I’d call my mama if she said yes. We’ll be back in a few,” Jake calls to the group as he pulls you towards his truck.

“If I said yes? Did you really think I’d say no?” You laugh.

He just smiles as he opens the back door of the cab and lifts you inside. He parked in the shade and left the windows cracked so the truck isn’t stifling as you get inside.

“Oh gosh, she’s gonna be so-“ you start to say but he cuts you off with a kiss.

“We’ll call her after, I need you first,” he murmurs against your lips, fumbling with the button to your shorts.

“You want to…here?” You ask as he dips his fingers into your bikini bottoms. “Yeah, okay…here’s good,” you agree when he finds your clit.

“So wet for me already,” he groans as he nudges your swim top with his nose to suck your nipple into his mouth.

“Have you seen yourself without a shirt? Been like this all day,” you pant, hands untying his shorts.

“And you didn’t tell me? Naughty, naughty girl.”

You shudder at his words. A moan is ripped from your throat when he bites down on your nipple the same time his fingers stop their circling to place a light slap to your clit.

“I…I mean, you make-fuck!” You stutter, crying out when he slaps your clit again. “Now Jake, I need you now.”

“Yes ma’am,” he growls against your breast before he lays you on the bench seat. You push your shorts off while he does the same to his before he climbs over you.

He runs the head of his cock through your slit, gathering your arousal before he pushes in with a satisfied groan.

Your legs wrap around his waist and your nails dig into his shoulders as he fucks you into the seat, pulling gasps from you with each thrust.

“Can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you as my wife,” he grunts, reaching down between your bodies. “I’m gonna make you a mama…we’re gonna try out every kinky idea in that dirty mind of yours…” He slaps your clit, inhaling sharply as you clench around him. “We’ll definitely be exploring that more too. You like that?”

You whimper as you nod, on the knife’s edge of your orgasm.

“Or is it when I call you a naughty girl?” He pants, resting his head on your shoulder as his hips continue to pump into yours.

“Answer me,” he growls, biting your shoulder. He slaps your clit once more when you hesitate and that’s all it takes to push you over the edge with a muffled cry.

Unable to hold back from the sting of your nails in his back and the rhythmic tightening of your pussy, he cums too with a deep groan of his own.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

“I think there are some napkins in here,” Jake says, rifling through the center console a few minutes later after you’ve both caught your breath.

You whimper as he cleans between your legs, clit still puffy and sensitive. “Later, sweetheart,” he promises.

He fixes your hair when you sit up and you look each other over before heading back to the group near the water, roasting hotdogs over the fire.

“What’d your ma say? She pretty excited?” Bradley asks his eyes on the fire.

He looks up when neither of you replies, and laughs when he sees your ruffled appearance and the way you’re looking at each other with wide eyes.

“You guys were totally fucking!”

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

Thankfully your embarrassment is short-lived when Natasha brings up the times she’s caught nearly all of the other guys in the act.

The rest of the night is full of laughter and reminiscing. Your eyes fill with tears as he says his goodbyes. You know he’ll see them again but you can’t help but feel guilty that he’ll be leaving some good friends.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asks, putting his arm around your shoulder on the walk back to his truck when he hears you sniff.

“I feel bad that you’re leaving some of your best friends for me.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll still see ‘em. We’ll visit, they’ll visit. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them ended up transferring to Kingsville too. I’m not leaving California just for you either. Sure, you’re the big reason; I want to start a family and be closer to ours. But I’m also done with the deployments, the combat, the ejections, and nearly dying. I’m ready to teach the next gen.”

“Okay. Just don’t resent me, okay?”

“Never.”

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

“So when do you want to tie the knot?” You ask much later when your appetites for each other are finally sated with your head on his bare chest.

“As soon as possible. You can order a dress online, I’ll wear my dress blues or a tux and we can get married at church and have the reception in Ma and Dad’s yard by the garden,” Jake jokes, fingers playing in your hair.

“That actually sounds perfect,” you smile.

“Really?”

“I’ve been waiting my whole life for you, Jake. I’d be happy to stop at the courthouse tomorrow but I can’t imagine Ruth would forgive us if she’s not present. How mad was she when you told her about the proposal?”

“The only reason she didn’t drag me to the woodshed was because I told her about your plan to spread Lisa’s ashes. I hope you didn’t find that morbid, I just wanted you to feel like she was a part of it too.”

“Not at all, Jake. It was perfect.”

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

A/N: it’s me, hi, I’m the problem it’s me (I want Jake to call me naughty and spank/slap/choke/humiliate me). Fuck.

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs.

Tagging:

@mamachasesmayhem

@its-the-pilot

@dizzybee03

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@shanimallina87

@blindedbythelightt

@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth

@lexixstewart

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@mrsrobertfloyd5

@charmedkim

@k-k0129

@bellaireland1981

@hookslove1592

@amiets2

@nero4te

@eli2447

@atarmychick007

@vixenobrian

@86laura11

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@dempy

@angelbabyyy99

@buckysteveloki-me

@djs8891

@mizzzpink

@daggerspare-standingby

@mrsevans90

[luvfy0dor]

“Before it Dies on The Display ♡⁠˖” Bsd x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Dazai Osamu, Chuuya Nakahara ✧

Warnings; None!

Description; Actual drabbles about Dazai and Chuuya getting you flowers ♡⁠˖

A/n; Hey y'all, sorry I was gone for a solid eight days, I had a bunch of swim meets this week and practice and stuff, I'm sure y'all get it. Requests are being worked on; I feel bad asking for them and taking literally more than a full week to do the simplest stuff. Sorry again 3:

Dazai Osamu ♡

• Dazai buys you flowers, often cool colored ones. He doesn't often get roses unless you specifically request it; he opts for more unique and exotic flowers if obtainable. He really loves wowwing his partner and standing out from others.

ೃ⁀➷

You had planned to go on a date with your boyfriend, but he was running relatively late right now. You stood in the doorway of your home, arms crossed as you leaned back against the frame. Your clothes were well put together, fitting for the fancy restaurant that you were treating him to. It really didn't take long for him to pull into your driveway though, the headlights piercing the darkened evening.

He quickly opened the door and stepped out, his arms behind his back. You knowingly grinned as you uncrossed your arms and shut the light off, closing and locking the door behind you. He sped up his pace, careful not to reveal the long flower to you until you met in the middle of the paved path to your doorstep. "Good evening, my dearest." He says smoothly, a small grin pulling at the corners of his lips. He leans in to place a peck on your own with his arms still held behind him. Your noses bumped together, making you laugh a little. "Are you ready to go?" You ask Dazai, him immediately shaking his head. "Almost! I just have a gift for you first." He says. "Any guesses?"

"Hmmm....I dunno, a yacht?" You playfully reply. "Better! I've brought you an orchid, darlin'!" He says, pulling the potted plant out from behind his back and handing it to you. "Dazai, you never fail to surprise me, this is so beautiful!" You say, grinning and taking in the beauty of the dainty flower. He kisses your cheek and grins with his hands now on your shoulders. "A beautiful flower for an utterly stunning person." He whispers, leaning in to peck your lips again. You return it pleasantly and turning to your door, getting your keys out again so you could place it inside. "Thank you, Dazai, really. They're so beautiful." You smiled from ear to ear before placing the plant inside. He hummed, following you inside and taking your hand; bringing it to his lips for a soft and sweet kiss. "Ofcourse my darling! Since I've brought you flowers, you can pay for dinner, yeah?" You roll your eyes and ruffle his hair, pushing his face away. "That has been predetermined." You tease, grabbing his hand and leading him out the door, ready for a sweet and romantic night with your lover.

Chuuya Nakahara ♡

• Chuuya, unlike Dazai, loves buying his partner roses. He feels like it's such a tried and true method of making his partner swoon for him. They're so romantic to him, especially red roses.

ೃ⁀➷

Chuuya was walking down the streets of Yokohoma, heading towards his favorite cafe. He noticed that he had passed a flower shop on his way, only coming to realize that it must've been brand new as he stood in line to order. You immediately crossed his mind, his subconscious telling him how happy you would be to receive flowers from your beloved boyfriend. He decided that he'd stop on his way back; you deserved flowers more than anyone with all the hard work you do, even though he's offered to let you stop working and take care of all your needs. He loved how dedicated you were, and for that he felt that you deserved all the flowers in the world!

He exited the cafe, walking up the street this time. He made it to the flower shop, opening the door and immediately being greeted by strong floral scents. One of the florists offered to help him build a bouquet and he immediately accepted, wanting to create the perfect bundle of flowers for his lover. They worked with one another to create an arrangement of reds, pinks, and whites, tying it all together with kraft paper and ribbon. He payed and thanked the worker, returning out onto the streets once again. He was able to go home early today, a smile on his face as he thought about you.

When he reached home, he twisted his key into the lock and pushed the door open with his foot, his arms filled by the bouquet. It was utterly massive, and you had a look of confusion on your face when all you could see was the brown paper instead of your boyfriends head. Once he closed the door again, he held it out for you. "A new flower shop opened and uh, I thought you'd like some roses today." He said with a grin, his hair falling on one side of his neck as it usually did. You smiled and took them into your arms, pulling Chuuya in too. "Thanks, babe, you're real sweet to me, you know that? You deserve this treatment too." You say softly, brushing his bangs away from his face. "Yeah, yeah, but that's not important right now. Do you like em? If you don't I can get you another bouquet, no need to hide the truth." He says sweetly, rubbing your upper arm. You immediately shook your head. "No! No, no, I love them!" You reassure him, staring at the beautiful flowers, their pedals smooth and unbroken. "Promise you're not lying to me? My love only deserves the best, you know that." He asks with a smirk, pulling you in for a gentle kiss. "Promise." You say, grateful to have such a thoughtful and willing to please lover.

A/n; Depending on inspiration in the next couple days regarding requests I'll post a Fyodor and Nikolai ver of this. I thought this up on the bus ride back from my meet which felt like a fever dream bro some kid did 100 butterfly in 1:06. WHAT THW FRICK U GUYS

[charlesf1leclerc]

Ho first of all i love your stories😅❤️

And second i wanted to request an ollie bearman x reader. Just something like an rainy day with ollie just something really fluffy

Ly❤️

Summary- a short blurb if a rainy day with your boyfriend Ollie.

It was meant to be the summer break, which many sun, tans , days at the beach , swimming , pool parties. But no not today, Mother Nature had different plans for today. It was currently pouring rain, grey clouds and strong cold winds. So you and Ollie had no other choice then to spend today inside because no way are you going outside in that weather. You both were not very good with the cold.

“Well what should we do baby?, because don’t get me wrong staring out the window wishing for the sun to show is fun but we can’t do it all day” Ollie spoke as he came up to hug you from behind as you stared out the window.

“ Yeah… I know it’s just London is always cold why can’t god give us warmth for once” I laughed turning around in his arm.

“ here’s an idea how about a movie day, you pick I’ll make some hot chocolate lots of sweets?” 

“ I guess that could work” I agreed 

“ ok go get some blankets and get yourself set up in the couch, pick a movie too I’ll be back” he spoke as he walked out of the room into the kitchen. 

I had gathered all the blankets from the living room and the bedroom and had laid them out on the couch. And picked a movie out and left it on pause on the tv as you waited for Ollie. “Ok we have two hot chocolates, lots of whipped cream and a few marshmallows, chocolate chip cookies and popcorn “ he grinned ear to ear as he placed everything on the coffee table and he was clearly proud of his selections. He then got under the blankets as you reached forward to press play on the movie and the soft sounds of the film began to fill the room.

“ mm this is really good baby” I spoke taking a sip of the homemade hot chocolate. 

“ thanks only the best for you”

You leaned further into him cuddling up to him as he lay his arm over your shoulder allowing you to cuddle further in

“ in my opinion this day couldn’t be any better” he spoke before kissing the top of your head.

————————————————————————

Hope you all enjoyed even though it’s short pls continue to keep sending in your request for my KUWTL series and my other drivers tysm xx

[bonny-kookoo]

𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐝 Part 6: Read Me 🔞

With some things more clear now and other problems finally solved, you begin to realize that Jungkook seems to know you better than you thought he did- and you're not sure if that's a good thing, considering the fact that hiding from him doesn't seem to be an option any longer.

Tags/Warnings: mc STILL kind of hates kook, Angst, enemies to ???, past regrets, miscommunication, Fluff, slow burn, sugar daddy Jungkook vibes THEY'RE STRONG IN THIS, minor age gap, sexual thoughts, sexual tension, sexual acts oops, Handjob & Oral (fem. receiving), edging, some minor ass-smacking, mean dom!kook is showing, body insecurities, Jungkook is so ugh in this

Length: ~3.3k.

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You're admiring the sunset from your spot in the pool at the expensive residence Jungkook had booked solely for you both this time, having justified it by simply stating that he needs 'quality time with his girlfriend' now that you're officially a couple. It's still weird to you- how oddly smooth the transition happened, and how different it feels at the same time. Everything about him is familiar, yet the way he acts now seems oddly strange.

Not that it's a bad thing; you happily get spoiled by him any day.

You can hear the water slosh around behind you, no need to turn to know who's currently swimming over to where you're floating, arms on the edge of the pool while your legs gently move around behind you. "Enjoying yourself?" He asks from behind, successfully caging you in as both his hands hold onto the edge of the pool right next to each of your arms. You nod, letting him tilt your head back with a hand to your throat so he can place an upside-down kiss to your nose, making you giggle. "Almost thought you didn't like the pool. You've not used it before."

"Hmhm, dunno." You shrug. There's no way in hell you're gonna admit to him that you're a little ashamed of not having worked out at all for quite some time now- the chub of your belly clearly noticeable these days, pillowy thighs rounder than they've ever been before. Compared to him, who regularly spends time at the gym, you feel horribly inferior- even though you know, considering your situation, you're not competing at all.

Yet it somehow feels as if you do, considering what he could have with all his wealth and charm.

"Hm, I know you just got in yourself-" He starts, placing kisses over your bare shoulder. "-but I kind of want to see that pretty bikini you're wearing right now." He tells you, making you roll your eyes.

"Then go dive or something." You bite back with no real anger whatsoever- just playful fighting, as usual. Some things, after all, never truly change. "Also, how come you know I just got in too? Have you been stalking me, you pervert?" You scold him, leg kicking out, but he successfully evades the action, pushing himself closer instead, so that your chest squishes against the wall of the pool.

"First of all, I can't hold my breath long enough to eat you out in a pool, and the chlorine stings in my eyes." He responds close to your ear, making you shudder a little, because now it's definitely clear what he's really after. "And second of all, your hair is still mostly dry. That's how I could tell, you brat." He scolds back, his knee pushing into your butt in a teasing manner. "Now get your pretty ass out of the pool, I wanna make love to my girlfriend." He chuckles, as if it's the most natural thing to say.

As if you've ever done it before- which you haven't. Tension might've always been high these past few months, but nothing ever truly came out of it, mostly due to the fact that you didn't want to just have sex and no strings attached, and he wanted the same thing but didn't know that you were on the same page. Your miscommunication really screwed you over big time.

"Oh wow, well maybe I don't wanna though." You pout, making no move to actually follow his request.

"Which is fine too, just so you know." He makes clear, giving you a little bit of space, though he does rest his chin on your shoulder. The action would be almost cute- if he wasn't basically taking away your only form of security that you've always turned to. Hiding. "But can I ask why?" He wonders, and you've already expected it.

You knew him, after all. And now that you're a thing, he won't let you get away this easily any longer.

"Dunno." You mumble again, feeling cornered. You don't want to answer that question.

"Bullshit." He calls you out. "Talk to me baby, don't let me stumble around in the dark like that." He complains lowly, and you sigh. His comment probably wasn't meant to make you feel bad for him, but it still does- because yeah, it's mostly your fault that you've been in this whole mess prior to now. You don't want to talk right now, however. And you know you don't actually ever want to- you always simply hope that he'll let it go, or that he might just forget about it.

Though that might have been before you two got together. Deep down, you know that a relationship can't work like that.

"Just.. can't we just do it somewhere dark, or something?" You ask, trying to move around the whole thing. You do want him, there's no lie about that- but you don't want him to see you. "Like, I do want to, I just.. don't feel very good about myself right now, and I don't want you to see that." You finally confess with a deep sigh, watching the overflowing water from the pool spill continuously into the drains on the sideline in front of you. "S' all." you shrug, defeated tone in your voice.

"Well, I don't wanna swallow chlorine water either, so I wasn't suggesting to do it in the pool-" He offers kindly, trying to keep the mood light so you don't shut him out again like you usually do when things go towards a more serious topic- or anywhere near something you don't like. "-but I also really want to see my pretty girl." He complains softly, swimming away from you before he pushes himself out the pool, muscles of his arms flexing- reminding you yet again of the lack of effort you'd been placing into yourself lately, especially leading up to this trip. "Come on." He coaxes, and you sigh, heaving yourself out as well- though not as gracefully as he did.

There's no use in hiding those sides of you anyways. He'd find out about those unpretty things you do or are at some point or another no matter what you do.

When you step into the shower, you're not surprised that he's right behind you as well- for him, no shame present even when he drops his swim trunks to the floor, uncaring of his own nudity, while you have to look away almost shyly. You've never been someone to be bashful with these things- but now that it's actually happening, right there, you feel a little overwhelmed of sorts, like reality is laughing at your face, testing you. Of course Jungkook wouldn't be self-conscious. With a body like Adonis, you wouldn't be either. But you're simply not Aphrodite at the end of the day- and that leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

Because he deserves an Aphrodite.

Almost defeatedly, you let his fingers untie all the knots holding each piece of your bikini together, before he kicks it all aside, starting the shower. You wait for a comment, anything; the natural talk of 'you're so pretty, I love your character most of all' all that stuff you've heard in movies and read in books numerous times.

It's just because he has to say these things. There's no way he finds you pretty like that.

And yet, he says nothing, simply grabs the body wash from the side, before he gently massages it into your skin, soapy suds soon covering you. "This smells nice." He comments like it's nothing, his palms running over each curve of yours as if it's nothing special. Because you aren't special, you scold yourself. Not to him, not to yourself, not to anybody. "You know.." He starts, helping you wash off the soap underneath the streaming water, his palms still running over your skin, but now different in nature- almost soothingly.

"..I honestly would've never guessed how much you seem to hate yourself." He says, and your eyes widen at that.

"What-" You start, turning around, but he just looks at you, blankly almost, as if there's no emotion quite right in his mind.

"I don't know." He shrugs, washing himself as well casually, pulling the hairtie out of his by now long enough hair to set it aside somewhere. "I always thought, you know, you'd be confident. Happy with your body. I know I'd be, if I was you." He explains.

"I don't.. understand." You mumble dumbly, pushing your wet hair away from your face as you make room for him to wash the soap from his skin. This is awkward. Why is he speaking like you're discussing nothing but the weather, or something you saw this morning at breakfast down in the hotel lobby?

"Yeah, I know." He just nods, letting the water run over his face for a moment before he turns towards you. "I don't know either. Everything about you always seemed so pretty and endearing to me that I just, never really thought you'd be unhappy with yourself." He offers, and you can't help but stare.

"You think I'm pretty?" You quietly ask, and he chuckles, backing you against the shower wall.

"Very." He nods. "Especially now, all barefaced and mine." He tilts his head a bit, as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips. And in that moment, you do actually feel a little better about yourself. Because he didn't say these things in an overly cheesy manner to get into your pants. He said them because he truly believed them- no other reason.

And that alone makes you trust in them.

And just as you begin to get lost in his kiss, he begins to softly chuckle-

Before he turns off the shower, leaving you by yourself, rhythmic drops of water the only noise left.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"Well if that isn't a dream coming true." He chuckles from the door to the bedroom at the residence, having just come back from an actual meeting he'd had to attend last minute. He's still dressed up in his black button up and jeans, only his shoes missing as he looks at you on the large bed- in comparison to himself, wearing almost nothing.

"Why am I not surprised you've been dreaming of half-naked women in your bed, pervert?" You giggle to yourself, putting your phone down as you look at him. You've just showered, gotten ready for bed maybe, since he was taking pretty long at his meeting tonight.

"Hm, no. I wasn't dreaming of any woman in my bed, darling." He tells you, crossing his arms, his words making your ego swell as he stares you down from between his hair in front of his eyes. "Now come on, let's go out for dinner." He tells you.

"Buuut!" You whine, putting your phone back in front of your face. "You've been gone the entire day anyways, I wanna play my game now.." You mumble, not paying attention to what Jungkook is doing behind you-

And that's your first mistake.

The slap isn't even hard or anything, but it comes by such a surprise that you squeak out, instantly turning around to see his shit-eating smirk on his lips, the hand that's been smacking your butt innocently back at his side. "I can play a game too." He suggests, looking at you as he straightens up again, standing tall with his hands in his pockets. "It's called 'how fast can my baby get dressed before I'll do it myself'. It's fun." He explains, tilting your head to the side. "Wanna try?"

You stick your tongue out at that, earning another slap to your bare bottom again, making you turn around fully, legs tucked to yourself now. "Hey!" You complain, staring him down while he just looks at you.

"You can be glad I'm only using my hand, princess." He tells you, arms crossed. "It's alright if you wanna stay and not go out tonight- but how about you stop being such a brat now, hm?" he asks, and in a way, you don't want to. Not because you wanna get onto his nerves right now- even if that's usually a lot of fun- but because you want to test his patience.

"But it's fun." You say, shrugging.

"Why do I get the feeling that you're aiming for something entirely different here?" He exposes your game, making you pout to yourself as you cross your arms now too. "If you wanted me to fuck you, all you gotta do is ask." He bluntly says, making your eyes widen for a split second.

You're not a virgin, and neither have you ever been shy about the whole topic- but the way that he's just so boldly talking about it does make you a little shy almost. Mainly because yeah, your feeling had been blossoming even though you're already a couple now-

You just have such a huge crush on him, it's embarrassing.

"Hm?" He coos, crawling onto the bed where you're still laying, sitting on his heels while he pulls you close by your legs, rather roughly bringing them close enough to rest over his thighs, leaving you spread wide open for him to admire. "Is that what you need? You're soaking up those new panties baby, what's gotten you so riled up huh?" He teases, grabbing onto the front of the underwear before he pulls it up, so much so that it slips right between your lower lips.

You really never truly thought how he might be like in situations like these. Needless to say, he seems simply like a cruel, cruel man because who else would hold their girlfriend by their panties high and dry like this?

You try and trick him by moving your hips, using the fabric to rub against you for any sort of friction- but much to your dismay, that seems to be exactly what he was thinking of you doing for him. "Smart girl, aren't you?" He praises, as he watches you move. "Didn't even have to tell you anything. You're so needy." He teases, watching you simply avert your gaze as you look somewhere else-

Which is something he does not like, at all.

"Nuh-uh, look at me baby." He tells you, one hand pushing your hips down so you cant move, having let go of you as well so you can't get any friction at all now. You whine immediately, and he imitates it playfully, leading you to glare at him now. "Cute." He simply comments on that, before he moves your legs, pulling off your underwear that he lets fall somewhere onto the floor, adjusting your legs back into their earlier position.

"Please-" You huff out, unsure what you're actually asking for. Maybe you want him to finally get to the fucking point of this-

But he shakes his head. "Nah, I want our first time to be special, love." He tells you almost sickeningly sweet, palms running over the sides of your thighs. "I mean it. But until then-" He chuckles, one of his hands finding your heat, finally. "-I can make you cum in other ways." He simply tells you, rings on his fingers cold on his hands, making you jerk a little away from him as soon as they touch your heated skin.

It makes him laugh a little bit. You're just so cute sometimes without realizing it.

He doesn't apologize for it however- why would he? He's not stupid- he's seen the way you look at his hands whenever he's wearing any form of jewelry on them. He knows what you're thinking- it's pretty obvious for him. He knows you well. And he's going to use that to his own advantage.

"Maybe if I tire you out you'll listen to me hm?" He tells you, leaning back a little while his middle finger slips inside, curling a little while his thumb presses down on your clit. "Maybe playing with my baby makes her a good girl?" He chuckles, making you whine underneath him.

"Please-!" You beg again, unsure what you're asking for, still- but maybe if you're whining and complaining enough, he will still fuck you properly. Or maybe you need to rile him up again? Maybe trying to hit his ego will make him do what you want?

But in a way, you don't believe that yourself. He'd probably just leave you high and dry, and won't allow you to cum or something similar. You wouldn't put it past him- he seems mean.

"Hm?" He tilts his head, watching you as he intensifies his movements, another finger joining in pushing in and out of you- but it's not enough. You need more. "You're so whiny." He teases, laughing to himself.

"That's-" You're interrupted by a particularly intense movement he does- something he instantly picks up on, repeating that action yet again to interrupt your attempts at actually speaking. He just loves playing with you.

"Jungkook please!" You sob out, realizing the way he keeps slowing down what he's doing as soon as he notices your desperation rising at any point- edging you on, more than you think you can continue to handle.

"Please what, hm?" He wonders, faking innocence as he slows down yet again, making your hips stutter around, something he pushes down with his other hand that's not literally occupied inside you- his eyes hooded as he watches you intently. "Nuh-uh baby, be patient." He scolds, making you kick your legs out.

"No!" You complain, pushing your head back into the pillows. "Come on, we- it's not that big of a deal anyways, let's just-" but he doesn't let you finish that sentence, pulling both his hands away as he shakes his head.

"It is a big deal to me." He explains rather softly now, moving to get up and leave the bed- something you immediately cry after, desperate for any kind of release. He simply laughs. "No need for tears baby, I'm not gonna leave you hanging." He chuckles, getting onto his knees at the edge of the bed before he pulls you closer to it, core right at the height of his face. "Here's how it's gonna go;" He starts, hands running from your ankles up your legs, before they lift them over his shoulders. "I'm gonna eat you out, make you cum, get you all nice and tired-" He continues, eyeing you from between your legs. "-so you'll be a good girl when I take you out to dinner later. I've got a reservation we're probably already late to, and it was pretty hard to get a table there, so I'm not wasting it." He jokes, before leaning down.

"What if I-" You squirm a bit, aching. "-if there's nothing I like to eat there?" You mumble in complaint, trying to get him to change his mind maybe.

"Oh they got something for you, I already checked." He promises, before he dives in, lips on your cunt while his tongue doesn't start slow at all.

Your head is spinning.

It doesn't take long at all for him to get you to cum at all considering the immense amount of edging he's put you through earlier- so he isn't surprised when you actually unravel rather quickly from his efforts, hand helping you ride it out to it's fullest until you complain of being overly sensitive. "There we go."

"Hm.. imma go shower.." You say after a moment, slowly sitting up on the bed with somewhat closed eyes. It's when a hand is placed onto your head, Jungkook pressing a kiss on top of it, that they open again, the tender gesture almost shocking to you, while he simply walks past you.

"Go take your time. I'll pick out something for you to wear when you're done." He simply tells you, moving to roam through your suitcase, leaving you to shower and think about what just happened.

And somehow feeling more energized for the dinner now, finally deciding to let him take care of you from now on.

[hotluncheddie]

sorry just one more thing 🫣 I've been obsessed with chubby but still athletic Steve.. like he's truly doughy and round and he still loves being outside and playing basketball and swimming and he likes it even more now in this powerful body that is so completely his ........ you are a repository for all my chubby Steve thoughts so please accept this humble offering.....

oh i am always obsessed with thick round buff chubby stocky strong steve!!!

[please i am so so happy to be your chubby steve repository! keep em comin! its so so fun to get so many chubby steve asks!!! also sorry this is just an series of ideas kinda lol]

i really like using hopper (s3 specifically barkbark) as like body inspo for steve. that strong solid build, broad shoulders, big arms, but always with a good layer of squish.

i think steves legs would be thicker though, and his belly a little bigger, a little rounder maybe. so imagine that for this post, for your lovely juicy anon prompt <3

very into him playing basketball and swimming again, especially if its with the other members of the party. i just love steve being happy, feeling strong and confident and in control of his body. and that vibe just making the people around him feel comfortable, feel safe. hes their big guy. still their protector but now it’s little things, normal life things, not like, monsters.

and eddie? oh eddie would love it.

[i was gonna use this scenario for a micro fic but i’m giving it to u bc i want him to be round and meaty :) ]

i just imagine steve turning his parents garage into a place to weight train. so when eddie comes over, sees the open garage door, music blasting, he’s treated to a sight.

steve in a t-shirt with the hem cut off like 3 inches and the sleeves gone. in gym shorts and tube socks and sneakers. belly hairy and round and out. arms pumping weights and eddie’s cant believe how fucking strong his boyfriend is, has gotten.

like steve on a workout bench, lifting the weights above his head. stomach muscles bunching, making the fat bounce. all of him a little sweaty, grunting with effort. eddie just stands and stares.

and then steve sits up from the workout bench, belly resting in his lap. smirking at eddie standing there frozen. steve stands and shakes out his arms, wiping a towel over his face and neck, down his chest and over his happy trail. then he says to give him a sec eddie ‘warm down stretches.’

and eddie has to watch his boyfriend lunge and bend. watch his ass jiggle and bunch. watch his belly do the same. eddie’s so red, he’s so hard in his jeans.

and then steve finally takes pity on him. closing the garage door and laying back down on the bench. letting eddie stand over him and finish because he can see eddie won’t take long, needs it. and it’s okay because steve knows they can go in and share a shower. and eddie can go again.

steve getting a second order of breakfast and slamming two milkshakes at the diner. talking about ‘bulking’ and how he ‘needs the protein. and like, eddie will agree that his muscles are bigger now. but so is his belly. not that eddie’s complaining, not at all, he honestly kind of thinks steve says those things just because it makes eddie blush. knowing how big he is, how strong, eddie likes seeing how much he can eat.

steve manhandling eddie’s in bed, like he can actually for real throw him around if he wanted. makes eddie’s kind of breathless to think about. they’ve tried so many different positions now that steve can hold eddie up. getting fucked against a wall, belly helping to hold him there. yeah, that was a good one.

but also the sweet lovely ability eddie still has, to just take steve apart. his big strong steve who he can still turn into a whining, writhing mess, just with a few words and soft touches. eddie loves it, it’s so so special.

kissing steves stretch marks. he has a few on his arms, his hips. one special one that stretches over his pec, that’s eddie favourite. steve was embarrassed about them but then eddie spent time cherishing them. and mentioned how steve already has scars, but he got these from being happy. so now sometimes robin has to beg steve to put a shirt on. and steve will, but he loves his new body. he’s proud of all his scars.

<3

(sorry this took a while anon, but please believe me i love getting chubby steve asks)

@scoops-aboy86 u might enjoy :)

[cho-aaacho]

(Flufftober 2023) Picnic

Main Masterlist I Archive of Our Own

Flufftober 2023 Masterlist I Prompts List

Tags : Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Picnic, Swimming Date, Flufftober 2023, Reader is genderless

(Flufftober Day 21)

"Wow, I never thought that a picnic would be this good," he mused. "You are always the best."

As he drowned himself in the crystal-clear embrace of water, Piers felt as though he'd entered the gate of heaven. It had been a long time since he spoiled himself in the river's frigid caress, sipping on honeyed lemon juice and chewing a slice of sandwich from their well-packed picnic hamper.

The weather today was so good, almost like a masterpiece painting from heaven; the clouds resembled cotton candy and clung to the sky with their pastel blue color. The gentle breeze waltzed in the atmosphere, and the gentle greenish woods also had grapes that hung there like succulent jewels, ripe for plucking.

You found yourself sitting on the riverbank while your eyes were set on Piers. His damp hair is covered with the natural scent of algae, while his skin releases an intimate connection with the cool embrace of water and the warmth from the sun.

The golden glow danced upon him, transforming his presence into a wonderful work of art, and you have a terrible urge to capture Piers' photograph. No doubt he's so dramatically sexy with a touch of nature.

With a sly, mischievous smile, you said, "You look adorable, Piers. How about I take a photograph of you?" A gentle kiss was placed on his earlobe, waiting for his response.

"Hmm?" He shook his head and chuckled, extending his arm to rest on your lap, as if teasingly luring you toward the river. "Sweetheart, I'm not wearing anything," he quipped.

"But you're on the water. It isn't my problem; I just want to cherish this moment with you. After all, Redfield will be loud again about training, and he'll take you from me!"

Now he is transforming into a mystical creature from the fantasy book you read. Where they have some magical power to make humans breathe beneath the water's surface.

At that moment, you couldn't help but feel foolish about what you saw. His wet hair was framed with seductive glassy eyes, and his soft pink lips begged to be kissed. His strong and deep voice held you in a mesmerizing trance.

You're not sure if you're still normal. Anyone will never really comprehend your devotion to Piers, wondering if it's reality or merely a dream.

A sly grin played on his lips. "A photograph, you say? Oh, yes, darling. You'll have that by doing this—"

In a forceful movement, Piers tugged you beneath the surface of the river, letting the chill waters compulsively caress your skin. It feels like he is trying to pull your soul into his mischievous games.

"What the hell is this, Piers?" You snatched his shoulder. "I don't have any other clothes! How could you—"

Your words were cut short as he sealed your lips with a tender yet sensual kiss. He planted another kiss on your lips, leaving a gentle yet amusing nibble on your lower lips. His arm circled your waist as another hand traced the contours of your cheek with affection.

"Perhaps, my dear, I should buy other clothes for you, and let's call this a swimming date!"