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[ponderingmoonlight]

Touching kny men's frogs by accident

Pairings: Sanemi x fem!reader; Giyu x fem!reader; Rengoku x fem!reader; bonus: Tengen x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,7k

Warnings: Not smut but it's getting heated y'all, heavy inspiration from apothecary diaries hehehehe, enjoy babes

I didn't feel like writing for quite some time and would totally appreciate you showing some love and support 🤍

Sanemi Shinazugawa

“I can’t fucking stand you”, you hiss through gritted teeth, body feeling like exploding any given minute.

Out of all the people around you, why does it always have to be him you’re assigned with? Why not Giyu, why not Rengoku? No, it’s always the asshole himself, the devil in person.

“Join the club. I can’t stand you either, but at least I’m having fun with it”, he jeers back, the veins on his forehead almost popping.

If there’s one thing he hates more than anything else on this planet, it has to be you. Sanemi’s eyes glare you up and down as you walk in front of him, feet stomping onto the ground demonstratively while you make your way to the mansion you were assigned to.

No, that’s not true. If there’s one thing he hates more than anything else on this planet, it has to be that you hate him.

“Let’s just get this shitty mission over with”, you mumble under your breath.

Fuck, you’re almost able to feel his gaze burning through your back while it takes all your focus not to trip like an idiot. You hate to admit it, hate to even think about it, but somehow…

Why does the way he holds his sword have to be so damn attractive? Why does his voice force your heart to skip a beat, your knees to feel oh so weak? Why does it have to be him, the guy who hates you more than anyone else? You’re nothing but a fool for falling for him so hard. God, you really need to pull yourself together. Maybe telling yourself over and over that you hate him as well will finally force some sense back into your brain.

Will it? Or maybe, just maybe telling him about those things might help. Maybe you need to get this off your chest, maybe you need to feel him rejecting you to finally move on. You clench your hands into tight fists, heartbeat picking up in an instant. Yes, you just have to do this. There’s no way you’ll be able to act like that forever. And after that, after he rejected you like the asshole he is, you’ll definitely be able to hate him like you’re supposed to.

“Sanemi, I really have to-“

But just when your courage took over, you aren’t able to complete your sentence. A pair of razor-sharp teeth shoots just barely past your throat. An animal? A demon? You didn’t even realize that the sun is already fully set, didn’t even hear this lower-ranked demon coming. A dangerous mistake that right now, might cost your life.

“Watch out!”, Sanemi cries out behind you.

Images start to blur and overlap, you feel your body falling towards the cold hard ground. Are you dead, injured? Time seems to stand still, the only thing you’re able to do is pressing your eyes shut.

Until you land.

Softly.

“(y/n)…”

You clench your hands even harder, body not able to comprehend what just happened. You were on your way to the ground, without any doubt. How is it possible that you landed so softly? Did the demon eat you, eventually?

“Can you just…stop?”

“Sanemi?”

Immediately, your eyes dart towards the sound of his whiny voice.

Underneath you.

Sanemi Shinazugawa is lying under your very own body, trapped between your legs, kept in place by your hand.

Your hand…What is that soft feeling? A frog, maybe? You squeeze a little tighter. To be honest, you never really touched a frog-

“(y/n)!”, Sanemi cries your name in a way he’s never done before, his cheeks so bright red that it leaves worry lines all over your face.

“Did you catch a fever? No wonder considering that cold wind you’ve made earlier while training. I told you over and over that-“

“Your hand”, Sanemi presses out.

“Remove your fucking hand.”

Your hand? You shake your head in sheer confusion. What on earth does this have to do with your hand?

While one of your palms rests flat against the cool ground, the other still holds onto that squishy but somehow comforting thing. Your eyes wander down your own arm, searching for what might be a frog.

You swallow hard, hand snapping away in an instant.

God, you want to die. Right here on the spot. Without any last words.

Is this really, did you really touch him…there?

“It wasn’t a frog”, you mutter in sheer horror while lifting yourself off the boy underneath you.

“A frog!?”

“I…I thought this was a frog! Why didn’t you tell me earlier that I…that I touched you there!?”, you cry out in nothing but horror.

“Why the hell did you think it was a frog, idiot? I definitely don’t feel like a frog”, Sanemi gives back while grabbing your arm.

“And stop wiping your fucking hand like you just touched something dirty!”

“I…I need to go now”, you announce in a haste.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You really touched Sanemi down there. Sanemi Shinazugawa, the boy you always hated. No, the boy you secretly love.

And that’s definitely worse.

“Stay right where you are, (y/n)…We…We still have this stupid mission going and I don’t wanna get scolded by Shinobu for scaring you away”, the white-haired man mumbles, the pressure he puts on your wrist now becoming more gentle.

“Right.”

Get yourself together. Acting like a dumb teenager doesn’t help the situation either. As if nothing happened, you straighten your shoulders and start walking towards the estate again.

An uneasy silence begins settling between both of you, Sanemi just strolling by your side without even looking your way. Fuck, this is so awkward and strange. What are you supposed to do? Not saying a word until the mission is over, talking about the weather?

“Thank you for saving me from that demon earlier”, you blurt out without thinking twice.

“I’m still not over the fact that you called me a frog…”, he mumbles while shaking his head.

“What else was I supposed to say? I really thought it was a frog!”, you try to defend yourself.

In the split of a second, you find yourself pinned against a nearby tree.

“A frog, huh? No problem, I’m gonna show you it’s anything but a frog”, he hisses though gritted teeth.

„S-show me what?“

Giyu Tomioka

„You need to listen to your surroundings. The only thing you’re fighting with are your eyes”, Giyu explains briefly while putting a blindfold over your eyes.

Word of protest get stuck in your throat. No, it took you way too long to convince the water hashira to train you. To be exact, a couple of letters from Sakonji and you begging on your knees. You’ll definitely won’t risk him turning his back on you again over something as stupid as a blindfold.

“You need to focus on your other senses as well.”

Like the sound of his calm voice that makes your heart skip a beat? Or the faint smell of grapes that sticks to his clothes and tingles your nose?

“I said focus”, he warns you.

You blink into the darkness and straighten your shoulders. He’s right. You’re here to get trained by the water hashira and not to pine after him. You have to prove yourself. You have to show him you’re worthy of his time.

“Go.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. With a swift motion you dart forwards, follow the sound of his steps. You furrow your eyebrows while desperately trying to focus on the ever so slightly crush of branches underneath his feet, your bare skin eager to feel the tiniest brush of wind.

But before you’re even able to detect him, you feel his hand roughly slapping the back of your head.

“You’re not trying good enough”, he comments calmly.

That’s it, the moment you’ve been waiting for. You turn around as fast as possible, your arm on its way to hit him.

Now you have Giyu, now you’re finally able to strike back.

Your hands hold onto something when he forces you around swiftly.

And then you hit the ground.

“What the hell was that?”, you bark while yanking away that stupid blindfold.

But when your eyes meet his, your breath gets stuck in your throat.

“Giyu? Are you…alright?”

His cheeks are bright red, a thin coat of sweat covering his forehead while he stares at you with widened eyes. What is going on? Is there something behind both of you?

“(y/n)…”

He breathes out your name like a prayer, a minor whimper escapes his oh so beautiful lips.

“Hey, your worrying me. What’s going on?”, you question, eyes scanning him up and down.

Until your gaze wanders to your very own hand.

That rest just where his private parts are.

“Oh!”

Immediately, you stumble backwards while wiping your hand against your uniform like the idiot you are. How the hell did you not realize that you were touching him there?

“I-I…I’m so s-sorry! It wasn’t on purpose!”, you cry out immediately.

You’re screwed. What if Giyu thinks you’re a disgusting freak, a pervert? You never touched a man like that in your entire life, never knew what it would feel like. But…you never imagined it to feel this big. No wonder though, Giyu definitely seems like the kind of guy who keeps his secrets to himself.

“(y/n), can you…stop staring at me like that?”, he mumbles.

Your dirty eyes widen when you start to notice that you were still staring at his pants.

“I’m so sorry!”

“I think I need to go for a few minutes”, he announces awkwardly while getting up.

“What? Please don’t leave, I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself! I will be more careful, I will make sure something like this n-“

“(y/n), please just stop talking. I need to calm down. Now excuse me.”

“But Giyu, please don’t leave me hanging! I don’t want us to stop training, there’s still so much you need to teach me-“

“I need a couple of minutes to…take care of something.”

“To take care of something?”, you repeat visibly confused.

What on earth does he have to take care of now? His very own hand wanders to his pants, adjusting what looks like a visible bump.

A bump.

You swallow hard.

“Oh.”

Instinctively, you turn around, your cheeks now bright red.

“O-okay. Got it. Sorry”, you mutter.

Kyojuro Rengoku

“(y/n), stay by my side!”, Kyojuro instructs you while dashing down the dark forest.

Your heart pumps rapidly, mouth already tasting like iron. To be honest, you are exhausted. Exhausted of running, exhausted of fighting, exhausted of this cruel night. What time is it? When will the sun finally rise again? The only thing that keeps you going is him. The man who runs in front of you and shields you from demon attacks as often as possible.

Him, Kyojuro Rengoku.

“I can’t do this anymore”, you mutter when your sight already starts to get foggy.

Kyojuro turns around, eyes springing back and forth between you and the army of demon who dash behind both of you.

What now? He can’t watch out for you while killing off all those demons. No, he’s forced to wait until help arrives. Otherwise, you might get hurt. Or even worse…

He shakes his head ever so slightly, eyes focusing on what’s in front of him. Kyojuro was never the type to hide like a coward, but right now, this might be your only chance.

“Follow me.”

Gently, he grabs your hand and drags you behind him, dashing towards what looks like a small cottage at neck-breaking speed.

“Kyojuro, what are you doing?”, you question in sheer confusion.

He managed to leave all those demons behind, now running straight towards the cottage in front of them. What is his plan?

“We will hide until help arrives”, he explains briefly.

With a swift motion, he opens and closes the door behind your trembling figure, eyes darting around the room without a real aim.

Until they land on a closet.

“Hiding? But-“

“I’m sure Uzui will arrive within the next few minutes. But with you injured like this and countless demons chasing after us, I’m not able to defeat them by myself while still making sure you’re fine”, he explains briefly while gently shoving you into the closet.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat when he pushes himself inside next to you and closes the door, so close that you’re able to feel his breath tickling against your cheek.

“Thank you for thinking about me”, you breathe into the suddenly so private space.

“I always will, (y/n).”

A warm feeling spreads in your stomach as well as your now pounding heart. It’s hard not to fall for a perfect man like him. Him who engulfs you with the sheer heat of his body. Him, who has never been this close to you before. Him, the man you love since the first time you saw him.

Your feelings threaten to overpower you just like your dizziness. In the search for hold, you adjust your body in the tiny space, hands searching for support.

A minor whine fills the otherwise quiet place, coming straight from Kyojuro’s lips.

“Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself as well?”, you question, now pulled out of your trance.

You didn’t even have the time to think about Kyojuro with all those demons chasing after you. What if he got injured? How careless of you to not check on him sooner.

“No, it’s just…You’re squeezing my pelvic area”, he presses out.

“W-what?”, you shriek, instantly removing your hand.

“I-I’m sorry, I thought I was holding onto a knob!”, you try to explain in an instant.

“(y/n), you are killing me”, he suddenly mutters with unusual low voice.

“I do…what?”

In the matter of seconds, you find yourself trapped between his strong arms, the heat radiating from his body threatening to burn you alive while your glossy eyes stare at him through the darkness.

“I had my eyes on you for quite some time now. If I’m being honest, I developed feeling for you a long time ago.”

Feelings? Kyojuro Rengoku developed feelings? For you? You have to be dreaming, hallucinating due to blood loss. But the pressure of his hands against your back is real just like his breath that caresses your face gently.

“Kyojuro, I-“

You aren’t able to finish your sentence. The split of a second is all it takes for the doors of the closet to swing open.

“Now, look what we have here. Two lovebirds cramped into a tiny space with (y/n)’s hand…Oh, I might have interrupted something here”, Tengen jeers at both of you with a dirty smile plastered onto his face.

“Get away from here right now!”, you cry out along with slapping his shoulder roughly.

“Embarrassed because I caught you?”

“You didn’t catch us! This was…an accident.”

“And accident?”

“An accident”, Koyjuo confirms.

“You can’t fool me, lovebirds. But for now, let’s focus on those demons”, Tengen comments dryly while drawing his swords.

Bonus: Uzui Tengen

“You need to help me”, your beloved husband presses out through gritted teeth, his face twisted in pain.

“Yeah, sure I’ll do anything!”

You have to blink a few times against the wave of panic that threatens to take you over, Uzui’s blood sticking to your hands uncomfortably. You need to get yourself together, need to focus on helping your husband after this rough mission.

“Press your hand against my leg and stop the bleeding”, he chokes, his head now resting against the rough ground.

“Okay, I can totally do that!”, you mutter.

There’s no time to waste. As fast as possible, you press your trembling palm against the warmth of his body, your eyes scanning his face for any reaction when a sudden whimper escapes his lips.

“(y/n)…I always love when you touch me there, but right now, I need you to press your hand against my leg.”

“Oh!”

Immediately, you remove your hand from his groin and press it onto the gaping wound on his leg.

“I guess that was habit.”

"Well, now I'm horny and injured...", Tengen mumbles under his breath.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you like what I came up with <3

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[jamminvroomvroom]

busy.

ln x fem!reader

in which there’s a whole club of people waiting to celebrate the race winner, but he’s a bit busy…

hehehehe i’ve been cooking this one up since he won!! obsessed with this, it’s really not my best work in terms of literary masterpieces, but…. it’s horny self indulgence. enjoy, lemme know what you think, love you!!!

songs to set the mood: the alchemy by taylor swift, agora hills by doja cat, so high school by taylor swift, starboy by the weeknd

warnings: 18+!! minors dni i am so serious! this is just. porn without plot (with a lil plot) like this is peak feral needy lando, dom!lando, oral (f&m receiving), spanking, accidental voyeurism?, max verstappen, dry humping, unprotected sex (don’t do that!), touch of fluff as well, established relationship, crying, overstimulation

3.8k words

tears well in your eyes, the blurry screen telling you absolutely nothing, but it doesn’t matter anymore. he’s done it. the screams engulfing the garage seem to rattle all around you, the vibrations pushing your elation up another notch.

lando norris, formula 1 race winner.

your lando.

his voice floods your ears, so loud that the headphones seem to quiver as he screeches. a few tears roll thick down your face when he thanks his mum and dad, dedicates the win to his grandma, but then he says your name and you forget how to breathe.

“i’m nothing without you, baby.” his voice breaks, and your body is wracked with sobs.

various arms are slung over your shoulder, members of the team guiding you out of the garage and into parc ferme. the metal barrier digs into your ribs as you lean against it, desperate to catch a glimpse of him. his car rolls into position, the p1 marker sending another wave of emotion through you, and when he pulls himself out, he stands tall, proud, points to the sky.

you fall in love with him all over again.

he’s slapped on the back and passed around by the drivers but when he sets his sights on the sea of orange, nothing else exists. he’s flying over your head before you can even register it, elevated by the team and you watch him in awe. when he sees you, eyes locking with yours, a heart-melting, pantie-dropping grin spreads across his face and you can see the redness lining his eyes.

i love you he mouthes.

he’s lowered to the ground, spinning round to face you immediately. he tugs you as close as he can, the barrier definitely leaving it’s mark on both of you, and kisses you messily. all of the energy that he has left, all that he can muster, is put into the kiss, leaving you breathless, tugging on the fabric of his race suit like you’ll die if he gets taken away.

“‘m so proud of you.” you whisper against his lips, shivering as his thumbs graze your cheekbones.

“i love you so fucking much.” he beams, teeth clashing with yours when he kisses you with a smile.

“go get that trophy, mr norris.” you coo, and he winks, pressing his lips to your forehead. then, he’s gone.

champagne vapour leaves your skin sticky.

-

“lando, we gotta go.” you breathe, head rolling back to give him even more access to your strained neck, resting against the door of your shared hotel room.

you’re draped in orange satin, obviously, the short dress clinging to you deliciously, the one you always pack just in case. lando had been trying to convince you to stay in and let him have his way with you, and the second he walked out of the bathroom, still dripping from his shower, there was no way the pair of you were heading anywhere in a hurry.

“says who?” he grunts, his hips digging into yours.

“there’s a whole club waiting to celebrate with you-“

“the only person i want to celebrate with is you.” he punctuates his words with a harsh nip of his teeth.

“lando.” you whine in protest, not because you actually want him to stop, but because you don’t want to deprive him of a night out with his friends.

“try and convince me to go one more time, and i’ll edge you until you fucking cry.” he licks up your neck, tugging you from against the door, and guides you towards the bed. “and when you’re begging for me to make you cum, i’ll get you dressed up all pretty and we’ll go to the club with you dripping down your thighs.”

your lips quivers, caught between your teeth at his promise. you know he means it. his eyes darken when you nod quickening your pace until you’re stood at the foot of the bed. he’d only made it as far as putting his jeans on, so you rake your nails down his chest, watching as the tanned skin pales as you dig your fingertips in.

you teeter on your tip toes, leaning up to kiss him but he pulls back, smirking, holding you at arms length while he wiggles his jeans off and clambers onto the bed. you pout, watching him position himself up against the headboard, curling two fingers that beckon you forwards. you kick off your heels, crawling up the bed until you sit pretty on his lap, your dress riding up your thighs as you straddle him, leaving the lace of your panties flush against the cotton of his underwear.

you lean in to kiss him, but his fingers catch your chin, holding you back. you whine at the way he restrains you for a second time, wanting nothing more to melt into his frame while you lick into his mouth. he tuts, damp curls falling over his forehead.

“five minutes ago you wanted to go out.” lando tilts his head accusingly, a teasing lilt to his tone.

“changed my mind.” you hum, attempting to roll your hips. he slaps your thigh, light enough that it doesn’t hurt, hard enough that you sink into submission.

“you’re gonna have to prove that to me.” he sighs, feigning sympathy. you’re pulsing against him, and he can feel the damp heat of your cunt. “you’re gonna grind your little pussy on me until i can see how wet you are. gotta convince me, baby.” he grins at you, flashing his teeth. your jaw goes slack.

“lan.” you moan, eyes widening at his instruction.

“show me how bad you wanna congratulate me.” lando’s voice drops an octave, gravelly and direct, sending bolts of lightning down your spine.

you rock your hips over his bulge, slowly at first, tentative for the first couple of glides. you can feel how hard he is, your clit bumping the thick head of his cock as you grind down on him. your wetness begins to seep through the skimpy lace as you pick up the pace, revelling in the friction, the fire that you’ve lit between your two bodies.

lando makes no effort to help you, not at first, watching smugly as you slick him up. he can feel your warmth washing over him, the way you struggle to keep going as the pleasure builds. he focuses his eyes on the splotch growing on his crotch, honing in on the way your folds are slipping out of your quite frankly useless underwear. his lip catches between his teeth, pupils blown wide. his self restraint completely dissolves, one hand tangling in your hair, slotting his lips over yours, while his other flies to your waist forcing your hips backwards and forwards.

“wanna get my tongue on you, taste the mess you’ve made.” he mumbles against your lips. your thighs clench around his waist, rutting frantically on his lap. “‘n then i’m gonna get my fingers inside of you. it’ll be so easy, won’t it? can feel you dripping already. messy girl.”

“please.” you rasp. “lando, i need you.” you’re pleading, pushing his curls back and tugging hard at the chocolate strands.

“oh, honey,” he starts, flipping you onto your back. you gasp, smoothing your hands over the slope of his back, your nails raking between his shoulder blades. “i’m gonna have you exactly how i want you.”

he doesn’t have to work too hard to get you naked, peeling sodden lace down your thighs and shoving the satin of your dress over your tits, off of your frame. it cascades onto the floor, wrinkled in a heap, but you couldn’t possibly care less, not when he’s snaking down your body on a mission. his tongue drags over your clavicle, over the curve of your breast, stopping briefly to tease your nipple. he scrapes his teeth over the bud, continuing his trail over your abdomen, the plush skin of your belly.

“say please.” lando taunts, staring up at you through thick lashes. he rests his head against your hip bone, raising an eyebrow. you’re shaking already, in no mood to play games. if this is what he wants, you can’t deny him. he’s your race winner.

“please, baby. want your tongue on me.” you pant, softening your eyes in sheer desperation.

“where?” he coos, punctuating his borderline cruel question with soft kisses over your navel.

you smile coyly, keeping eye contact as your fingers dart between your spread thighs. you dip into your folds, splaying them open for him, tracing your clit a few times. you’re utterly soaked, impressed almost.

“right here.” you’re blushing, but you know just how he likes it, and your tactics are proven right when he groans, guttural and feral, pinning your thighs to the mattress.

your head thuds against the pillows at the sensation of the first swipe, his tongue dragging from your opening to your swollen clit. his face is submerged between your thighs, you can’t see him anymore, but you can certainly feel him. you can feel the slow glide of his tongue, tasting every little drop of you, can feel the vibration when he hums out in pure bliss.

it makes your head spin, the way most guys would expect you to drop to your knees, but lando gets his kicks on his, lost between your thighs. your eyes roll back every time he burrows himself deeper, slurping obscenely where you’re dripping.

“lando!” you grit your teeth, nearing the edge, and it spurs him on, two fingers running up the crease of your thigh, lathering through your wetness.

the digits glide inside of you seamlessly, casting an echo of noise that makes you blush. he groans against your clit - you’re utterly soaked - sending a buzz shooting up your spine.

“oh, baby.” he slurs, enticed, rutting against the mattress. you’re in an absolute state, and it’s all his fault.

two fingers curl, your feet kick out uncontrollably, and he laughs, laughs, into your cunt. you can’t help yourself, barrelling towards your release, unable to resist the rush of white hot pleasure. he fucks his fingers into you even faster, you scream, throat going raw as he scissors in and out of you. your foot finds his shoulder, trying to kick him away, teetering dangerously close to the brink of overstimulation. he doesn’t let it phase him, aside from the furrowing of his brows in annoyance, slinging your leg over his shoulder and splitting you open.

“my- oh god.” you choke, spasming up the mattress. he’s not even thrusting his fingers anymore, instead he’s grinding them against that one special spot, sucking hard at your clit.

you cum again, limp on the mattress, eyes squeezed shut. you’re slurring his name, babbling incoherently when he pulls off of you, sitting back on his knees. he looks proud of himself, too proud, smirking at your lifeless body. you feel like you’re part of the mattress, so sunken into it and exhausted. he’s covered in you, lips swollen maroon, fingers coated. every part of him that has touched you seems to shine in the dim light. his curls have dried now, fluffy and untamed, falling over his greying eyes.

“taste better than champagne.” he whispers, falling onto his forearms and caging you in.

your skin litters with goosebumps, his bare chest against yours, and you crane your head, lazily kissing him. you can taste yourself on his lips, mouthing down his jaw until you reach the sensitive skin below his ear. you scrape your teeth down his jugular, slow, sinking in softly to the bulk of his shoulder. he falters, shivering, collapsing his entire body weight onto you.

plump lips suck purple splotches onto the base of his neck, where no one will see.

you want him to lose control, ram into you and fuck you like he’ll die if he doesn’t, so you continue to tease, misbehave as you rake your teeth over his bronzed skin. his eyes are shut, thick lashes dusting his cheekbones as he succumbs to your torture. your hand skims his belly, muscles pulled taut under your fingertips, and you find the band of his boxers, dipping under the fabric. he registers your touch, and something within him snaps, his eyes flying open. he rolls off of you, finding his feet as he moves from the bed to the mini fridge.

“on your knees.” he grins at you, beckoning you to the carpeted floor.

you’re dazed, staring at the green bottle in his hands. condensation runs down the thick glass of the champagne bottle and you blank, utterly perplexed by what he’s about to do, your thighs involuntarily clenching. lando’s impatient, tutting as his hand wraps around your ankle, tugging you down the bed towards him. you’re shocked back to reality by his brazenness, scrambling from the mattress. you fall to your knees, licking your lips in anticipation, watching him through gleaming doe eyes. he softens, captivated by how ready you are for him, but it’s short-lived and the smirk returns.

“go on, baby. you know what to do.” lando strokes your cheek soothingly. your fingers curl into his waistband once again, and this time he lets you drag his boxers down. his cock springs free, hard and weeping, and your mouth fills with saliva, urgently taking him into your hand. “open wide.”

you look up at him just in time, watching how he raises the champagne bottle. he shakes it, once, twice, and your jaw drops as he pops the bottle. the liquid sprays, frothy and golden, dripping down your chest, over your tits, down your belly. you’re sticky, stickier, watching him in awe as the liquid pools around your knees. you notice how he’s glistening, the spray catching his abs, dripping south.

the noise he makes is carnal, a sigh of relief sounding when you lick over his hip bone, tracing your tongue over his pelvis until you reach the base of his cock. his hips stutter when you take him between your lips, the tip hitting the back of your throat as he immediately gives in to the warmth of your wet mouth. one of his hands works through your hair, bobbing you backwards and forwards, the other clasping tight around the neck of the bottle. he raises it to his parted lips, tipping his head back as he does, the liquid falling into his mouth. your eyes trace the curve of his neck, the swell of his lips, the way his knuckles have turned white contrasting the green glass. you wouldn’t be surprised if you were dripping onto the carpet.

“look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” lando grins dopily, his nails scratching over your scalp. the moan that emits, low and needy from the back of your throat, makes him shudder. “enough now.” he pulls you off of him, but he leaves you on your knees.

the hand in your hair travels to cup your jaw, his thumb flush against your reddened lips. he pulls them apart, bringing the bottle down to your level. you accept it, welcoming the fizzy burst of liquid, swallowing it down in gulps that make your head spin. there’s pride in his eyes when you keeps yours trained on him.

“so good for me, so well behaved.” he mumbles, more to himself it seems, but the praise still leaves you weak.

lando extends his hands, the bottle forgotten on the desk, and he pulls you to your feet, flush against him. you grab at him desperately, pawing at his lean body like he’ll disappear.

“you’re so pretty.” he whispers, nosing over your jaw. you flush, cheeks tinting deep and warm. “‘m so in love with you.” he purrs into your ear.

heat and raw emotion flood through your veins, and you’re shoving him backwards towards the bed, climbing on top of him. your knees bump his hips as you straddle him, your hair fanning his shoulders as you kiss him hard.

“love you. ‘m so proud. wanna show you.” your words come out frenzied, muffled as they get lost to his mouth. your teeth clash with his, his winning smile moulding against yours.

“yeah, baby? gonna show me?” lando’s eyes rake over your frame, his hands guiding your hips. you raise yourself up, your hands lining you up, and then…

“oh.”

“fuck.”

you sink down on him, filling yourself up slowly, the both of you panting already. the glide is slow, easy; he’s so big but you’re so wet.

“aren’t you glad we didn’t go out?” he hisses through gritted teeth, entranced by the way you feel, everywhere, all over him.

you nod, frantic in your agreement, your eyes rolling back in your head as you bottom out. it’s addictive, the stretch of him, your hands gliding over his abs as you try to find some balance. you rock your hips, revelling in the slow grind, up and down. your clit grazes his pubic bone with every rise and fall and you swallow hard, his body sticky under your fingertips.

“you did so good today, lan, so pretty up on that top step.” you pant, circling your hips. he groans, pulling you down so that you’re chest to chest, your lips centimetres apart, when the moment is stolen.

lando’s phone buzzes, over and over, max verstappen’s face filling the iphone screen. lando looks at the device on the bedside table, cursing under his breath.

“must be wondering where the race winner is.” you giggle, choosing to make light of the situation, rather than dwell on your ruined orgasm.

“he can wait.” lando grunts, fingers bruising your hips when he flips you onto your back, his cock staying buried so deep inside of you that you see stars when you hit the mattress.

your leg is thrown over his shoulder callously, a stoniness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. he’s determined to finish you off, show you just how bad he’s wanted you all day, remind you that you’re in bed with a someone who knows how to win. the angle change is jarring, it takes you a minute to adjust, not that he gives you the courtesy, fucking into you how you both like it as the call rings out through the room.

“baby- lando!” you yelp, your belly tight. the waves of pleasure swell in your core, his merciless antics send you barreling towards another orgasm. you’re teetering over the edge, his thumb flush against your clit, spasming at his manipulation, dangerously clos-

buzz buzz buzz buzz.

buzz buzz buzz buzz.

“for fuck sake!” lando swears, pulling out of you. you whine wantonly at the loss, pouting up at him.

he drags you to the edge of the bed until your legs hang over, flipping you angrily onto your belly. your cheek is pressed into the duvet, your toes barely graze the floor. his ringtone continues to sound out and he hastily grabs his phone. he hits the green button the same time he slides back into your cunt.

“what, max?” he spits, thrusting into you, so deep that you can’t help the screech that burns the back of your throat. it’s obscene, really, the way you gush around him at the knowledge that someone else is listening in, at the fact that lando takes pride in how good he makes you feel.

you try to muffle your cries, really, you do, but lando has other plans. he gathers your hair, winding it around his fingers so that he can pull your face out of the comforter. you sob, loud, the lewd squelch of where you’re joined with him more than audible.

“i’m busy. fuck off.” lando growls throwing the phone down onto the bed, conveniently right next to your head. the call is still in progress, but max is quick to hang up when he hears your shaky breath, poorly concealed squeals.

“you’re insane.” you manage to choke out. he laughs wetly, the sound making you dizzy.

lando shuffles the pair of you up the bed, propping you onto your knees, all the while hammering into you with that athletic stamina that makes your head spin. the pad of his index finger traces your thigh, finding home on your clit and the tears fall harder, blurring your vision. he pulls your back to his chest, beginning a deep grind that renders your speechless.

“you liked that, didn’t you? him hearing how good i make you feel.” lando’s breath fans the shell of your ear. you nod, mumbling something incoherent, too blissfully exhausted.

‘cuz you’re so good to me. so so good to me.

“thought about shoving your panties in your mouth to shut you up, but you ruined them, didn’t you baby?” lando circles your clit harder, tugging at your earlobe “remember? when you weren’t being a good for me? but you are now, aren’t you, honey? you’re my good girl, hm?”

you clamp down around him, heat licking down your spine. you’re clammy with sweat, glazed with champagne, at one with him. lando shudders as you tighten around him, holding you as close as he can get. you writhe against him when you hit your peak, slumping against him as you quiver. pearly whites sink into your flesh, hard enough to to ground you, not enough to hurt you. you love it, him, everything about this. you coax him into his orgasm, his thrusts turn sloppy and he cums, thick and hot.

it takes a solid five minutes before you can move, the pair of you crawling up the bed, stretching like two sun-kissed cats. you’re sweaty, stuck together tangled between white bedding that definitely needs changing.

“that was-“

“better than any race win.” lando sighs, languidly smiling against your hair line where he lays gentle kisses, his entire demeanour changed in a matter of minutes.

“you’re just saying that.” you tease, drumming your fingers over his chest.

“no, ‘m not. i loved every moment of today, best day of my life,” he breathes, dazed. “but i love you more.”

-

max sips his drink, the dial tone sounding through his ears.

“just won a fucking race and he’s not here yet.” oscar laughs. typical lando.

the call goes to voicemail, but max is drunk, persistent, and quite frankly, feeling a little annoying.

“‘m gonna try him again.” max nods his head, tapping against his phone screen impatiently.

“did you consider the fact that he might be… busy?” charles smirks into his drink, slumping against the back of the booth.

it’s too late, the ferrari drivers suggestion falls on deaf ears. max has made the call, again, but this time he gets an answer.

“where the fuck are you?” max asks, but then his face pales.

“what?” oscar tilts his head, watching in confusion as max wrinkles his nose.

the phone goes flying from max’s hands, thudding against the cushioned seats, his jaw hanging agape. once the disbelief subsides, he’s giggling like a child.

“guess he was busy then, hm?” charles raises a knowing eyebrow.

“yeah,” max is red now, cackling. “something like that.”

-

hehe whoops

-

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne

[em1i2a3]

At The Beach, In Every Life

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/The Sentry/The Void x Rogue Inspired!Fem!Reader

Summary: In the aftermath of you and Bob’s argument, you make a rash decision that changes everything. (Conclusion of Sailor Song, and Fable!)

Warnings: Angst…A lot of it once again…What can I say, I love the sadness 😩

Author’s Note: Well, this is the final part of this series, I hope y’all enjoy! I loved writing this a lot, it was a bit sad, but very therapeutic, and I hope it does the series justice. Also SURPRISE WITH THE DOUBLE UPDATE heheheh

Word Count: 5,621

A few weeks later, the dreams of you had stopped completely.

There were no more golden fields. No more glimpses of you half-turned with sunlight caught in your lashes. No more moments where your name left Bob’s lips and you smiled. No more touching. No more holding. There was only darkness now. Cold, still, and absolute.

It was a silence that didn’t just exist in his sleep anymore–it followed him like a shadow. Bob hadn’t said anything about it to anyone, but the emotional shift was unmistakable. He stopped showing up to breakfast, and began skipping team meetings without any explanation. He limited his conversations, and when he did choose to speak, it was barely a whisper–low and distant, like his voice has to travel through walls just to reach the people he was communicating to. His hands began trembling again, and he started sitting on them to try and numb the tingling that worked through the nerves, but nothing seemed to solve the issue.

Everyone had noticed, and for those that didn’t, it became apparent to them really quickly when you left the compound out of nowhere.

It had been exactly one week since the retreat–since the night on the porch, when you left him with words that shattered him like glass.

The morning in question had started quiet. You hadn’t shown up for your usual session in the training room. The logs were untouched, and your comm was shut off.

At first, no one panicked. You were a private person, and oftentimes you disappeared for a few hours, whether it was for a walk in the park, or to window shop because you couldn’t stand the thought of going into crowded stores. The team knew you sometimes craved some alone time, and they respected it.

But by noon, Yelena felt it in her bones that something was wrong.

There was no movement on the hall cams, and no heat signatures coming from your room–last time she had checked it had been fourteen hours since the last reading. She told herself you were asleep, or reading, or hiding from everyone like you sometimes did after a stressful night–but something in her chest had already gone tight.

And then she remembered.

Two nights before you had gone radio silent, you’d found her in the kitchen just before midnight. You didn’t say much–just leaned against the counter in your pyjamas and gloves, and sipped from a mug of tea, watching as she cut an apple. There was something restless in your eyes that night, something stormy, like you had been mulling over a thought that was bigger than your entire being. You asked her a question–a stupid, hypothetical one, she thought at the time.

”If you were in my shoes…Would you want to get rid of the power? Would you want to be normal?” Yelena had paused, her knife stilling over the cutting board. She had looked at you with a concerned look plastered on her face, and her eyes were already grilling you.

”What kind of question is that?” She asked, noticing the way you shrugged. She was trying to gauge your body language, attempting to somehow read your mind.

”I’m just curious,” You said quietly, “Would you get rid of the power or not?” Yelena gulped, looking back down at the apple she was slicing, chewing on the question for a moment. She knew she had to be careful with how she answered, because it was easy to misinterpret her words, so she cleared her throat, and looked back up at you.

”No…I’d want something better…Something that makes sense. Something that keeps me, exactly the way I am.” She responded. You didn’t say anything back, you just broke eye contact and glanced down at your steaming cup of tea, but Yelena had gone on, trying to shrug the question off like it was just a late-night talk between friends.

”There has to be something that gives you both…That lets you keep what’s yours without it being a danger towards everyone else around you…I think you shouldn’t throw away part of yourself because it’s hard, you should figure out how to live with it, hell maybe there’s research that you haven’t looked into yet.” You nodded slowly, and told her she was right before ending the conversation.

Now, when she was standing in your doorway the day you had gone missing in action, Yelena’s stomach turned.

Drawers were yanked from their tracks. Clothes were scattered. Your closet was cracked open like a wound, and your bed was rumpled, with the blanket hanging off the edge. A hoodie was bunched up on the floor, like it had been dropped mid-thought, and a glass of water was knocked over on your desk, which had slowly soaked into a folder of mission reports.

Your car keys were missing, and your go-bag–the one you said was for emergencies only–was gone.

There was no note, no message, not even a scribbled post-it on the fridge, there was just absence.

When Yelena and the rest of the team made the discovery Bob hadn’t been far. He was slouched on the couch in the living room staring at the same page of a book he hadn’t turned in hours. Bucky had rushed down the hall to find him, but he said nothing–he just looked at him with eyes that already held grief–and Bob followed, silent and pale, like he already knew something dire happened.

When he reached your room, he stopped mid-step in the doorway and didn’t breathe for almost a minute. He didn’t speak, nor did he blink. He just stared at the spot where your boots used to sit–lined up perfectly, always tucked against the wall. They were gone. Just like you.

The physical absence of you was worse than anything Bob could have imagined, because it didn’t just feel like you were gone–it felt like the world had been cracked open and left gaping. Like something that was sacred to him had been plucked out of the air and now everything around him was too loud and too quiet all at the same time. The light didn’t fall the same way through the windows, and the hallways felt longer…Even the sky looked wrong to him.

He began to spiral.

Not all at once. Not in a way anyone could fix. But in slow, shattering increments that no one could stop.

He started locking his door.

Stopped replying to messages unless it was mission-critical.

He wouldn’t eat unless someone left something at his door and walked away without speaking. He barely slept. And when he did, he didn’t dream. Not anymore. The golden fields were gone. So was the version of you who smiled and reached for him.

Now there was only blackness. Still. Silent.

And Bob cried when he thought no one could hear. He curled up on the floor of his bathroom or curled into the corner of his bed with his face pressed to the hoodie you left behind in your room. He had held it like it might still carry the shape of you if he clung hard enough. But the sweet scent of you had already begun to fade. Then on top of all that, that’s when the dreams ceased to exist.

He kept trying to stay busy. He organized his books, then destroyed the order and started again. He wrote down a list of things he wanted to say to you if he ever saw you again, then tore the page to pieces before he finished the last line. He tried to bake a cake, but he burned it. Then dropped to his knees on the kitchen floor and sobbed so hard Bucky had to pull him away from the smoke and extinguish the flames.

Nobody knew what to do, not even Alexei.

Walker offered to spar with him–Bob declined without meeting his eyes.

Ava left a stack of research papers on alternative power-dampening tech outside his door, and he didn’t open them.

Bucky was able to sit with him in silence but that didn’t help.

And Yelena kept checking gate logs, just in case you showed up, but nothing came. There were no messages, no information, and no you.

That was until one night, four weeks after your disappearance.

It was just past midnight when Yelena’s phone rang. She was in the kitchen, again, this time she was going through security footage of the 24 hours before and after you went missing.

The number that flashed across her screen was unrecognizable–no name, no contact photo. Just a block of jumbled numbers. It was the kind of number you didn’t reply to unless you were expecting to receive bad news. She almost let it go to voicemail…But something in her gut twisted, like her instincts were screaming for her to do the complete opposite of what a normal person would do.

So she answered.

”Hello?” There was silence on the other end for a beat or two, and then that’s when she heard it.

“Yelena…Please don’t hang up.” You said quietly. Yelena’s whole body locked up instantly. She didn’t say your name, she was too shocked to. For a second, she thought she was dreaming–hallucinating maybe. She had been losing sleep over your whereabouts, and she assumed that maybe it had finally splintered into pure delusion…But she knew your voice well enough, and she knew that wasn’t the case.

”Where the fuck are you?” She asked, voice low and trembling with rage. She tried to keep quiet, not wanting to garner attention from the other teammates, knowing that there was a possibility you would hang up if you heard anyone else’s voice apart from hers.

”I can’t tell you that,” You said softly, “I’m…I’m not trying to make this worse. I just needed to hear a voice that was familiar.” Yelena closed her eyes, and gripped the counter so tightly her knuckles went white.

”You left. You ran off. You didn’t leave a note, and you didn’t say goodbye…And now you call acting like you didn’t do anything wrong. How could you be so stupid Y/N?” There was silence on the other end for a moment, before she heard a sigh.

”I know what I did was wrong…And I’m sorry Lena…” There was a rustling sound, like you were outside. Wind moved through the line, maybe it was the shaking of trees or it was gravel crunching under your foot. It was distant, and soft, but it certainly wasn’t local, Yelena could tell.

“I found something,” You started, “A group out east. They call it ‘Second Light'.’ It’s this…Rehabilitation program for powered individuals with high-level threat classifications. It’s off the grid in upstate Maine, near Camden, hidden in the woods…” Yelena didn’t say anything, she just sat in silence.

”They don’t promise to fix you…They just promise to help you understand yourself. I don’t even know what I’m hoping for…I just–I wanted to be somewhere I couldn’t hurt anyone.” You added, and Yelena could feel the venom rising in her throat.

”Well it’s too late for that Y/N.”

“I know.” You responded.

”You should’ve told us…You should’ve told him.” There was a pause, and then your breath shook.

“How is he?” Yelena nearly laughed. It was a sharp, dry sound with no humor behind it, and she stood up from her seat and began walking around the kitchen with her eyes closed.

”How do you think he’s doing? He’s not eating, he’s not sleeping. I don’t think he’s seen the sky in four fucking weeks Y/N. Does that give you an answer? Or do you want more details?” Yelena’s voice was sharp, cracking around the edges. Her fury wasn’t clean. It was jagged, wrapped in grief. And for a moment, all she could hear on the other end of the line was your breath–shallow, shaky, like you were trying not to fall apart.

And then came the sound. A sniffle, quick and broken.

”It’s not like I don’t miss him, Lena.” Your voice dropped to a whisper full of splinters, “I miss him with all my fucking heart. Every second. Every breath. Every time I try to fall asleep, I remember he’s not down the hall from me. But you don’t know what that’s like…You don’t understand what it’s like to be around someone that you have such intense feelings for and you can’t touch them. You can’t feel them…You can’t hold onto them. You’ll never understand what it’s like to not be able to hold the person you–“ You cut yourself off with a breath that shook so hard it cracked through the receiver, as you tried to compose yourself with a shaky breath.

”I’m doing this because I want to live a normal fucking life with him one day…I want to wake up next to him and not worry that I’ll kill him if I roll the wrong way. I want to be able to hold his hand…To kiss him…Without thinking or being cautious.” Yelena’s back hit the fridge, and she slid down it, the cool metal biting her skin.

”Then why didn’t you tell him any of this?” She hissed, “Why didn’t you give him a chance to understand? Why did you push him away when we were at the cabin?” You exhaled so softly, it barely registered over the line. When you finally spoke, your voice was wrecked.

”Because he would’ve given himself up to be with me…He would’ve let go of who he was, and he would’ve tried to let the Sentry take over completely–just so he could be close to me. He would’ve burned himself to glow brighter, and I couldn’t ask that of him, I wouldn’t survive knowing I let him sacrifice the parts of himself that were still healing just to feel my skin.” Yelena’s breath hitched, but she didn’t interrupt. She didn’t need to. You were unraveling now, bleeding truth down the phone line, the confession clattering like shattered glass between you both.

“Bob is…Fragile. Not weak, but fragile, Lena. He’s been holding himself together with trembling hands since the day we took him in, and I saw it in his eyes…That night on the porch–I felt it. He would’ve said yes to anything. He would’ve given up being Bob just to be mine.” You swallowed, hard. Your voice thinned into a whisper, “And I want him…God, I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything. But not at the cost of who he is.” Yelena leaned forward, elbows digging into her knees, fist pressed against her mouth as her heart broke in slow motion.

“You think he’s better off now?” She asked, “You think he’s safe because you’re gone? He’s not. He’s broken and he’s slipping, and we are all struggling to catch him right now.”

“I know,” You whispered, “I know I made it worse, but I’m trying to be strong for him in the only way I can…I’m doing this so that when I come back I can give to him all the things I’ve been starving to give…” Your voice cracked again, the final words hitting like a stone dropped into water. Yelena clutched the phone tighter, her voice finally softening–but not with forgiveness. Just with desperation.

“Can you at least talk to him, Y/N?” She whispered. “Can you give him anything to pull him out of the hole he’s in? Please.”

The word landed like a bruise–please–because Yelena didn’t beg. She didn’t plead. And now here she was, curled against the refrigerator, voice raw and trembling with the effort of trying to hold up what little was left of you both. There was a pause on your end. Long. Heavy. The only sound was wind brushing across the mic and the faint static of distance. You swallowed so quietly Yelena could hear it through the line.

“…You can give him this number,” You said finally. “Tell him he doesn’t have to call. He doesn’t owe me that. But if he ever wants to…If he ever needs to…” Your voice broke, but you pushed through it anyway. “…I’ll answer. No matter what time it is. No matter where I am. I’ll pick up.”

Yelena pressed her eyes shut, nodding even though you couldn’t see it. Her throat tightened.

“I’ll tell him,” She said.

“Thank you,” You murmured. “And Lena?”

“Yeah?”

“…Just…Stay near him. Please. I know he won’t ask for help, but–don’t let him drown.” Yelena bit her lip so hard she drew blood, holding back the swell in her chest.

“I’m trying,” She said quietly. “But he needs you, not me.”

A breath caught in your throat, and before you could say anything Yelena hung up. She sat still for a long moment, with the phone cradled against her chest. Her eyes stung, and her heart ached in places she had not known could ache like that.

She sat at the kitchen table, lit only by the dim under-cabinet lights, scribbling your number onto the back of a takeout menu–then rewriting it again, neatly this time, onto the inside of a folded notepad page. She stared at it for a while. Ran her fingers over the ink like she could steady herself with the pressure of its presence. Then she stood.

Bob’s door was cracked open when she got there.

Not locked like it had been for days. Just…Barely open, as if he didn’t have the energy to close it anymore.

She knocked once, soft.

He didn’t respond.

“Bob?” she said gently, peeking in.

The room was dim and still. Bob sat at the foot of his bed in a sweatshirt that hung loose on his frame, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees and his fingers twisted together like they were trying to keep him tethered. He looked up slowly, bleary-eyed and distant. Like the world was a radio station he couldn’t quite tune into.

Yelena stepped inside and crouched down in front of him. She didn’t sit. Didn’t linger. Just held out the piece of paper.

He looked at it like it was something sacred. Something terrifying.

“She called,” Yelena said quietly.

His eyes snapped to hers.

“She’s alive. She’s safe. She’s in some place called Second Light. It’s in Maine–rehab for powered individuals, off-grid.” Her voice stayed level, but it cracked once around the edges. He didn’t speak. Didn’t blink. His chest was rising fast and shallow, like breathing had suddenly become difficult.

“She didn’t ask me to convince you of anything,” Yelena added, pressing the paper into his hand. “But she said…If you ever wanted to talk. She’d pick up. No matter what.”

Bob took the paper like it might fall apart if he held it too tight. His thumb smudged the edge. He stared at the numbers. Silent. Pale.

Yelena didn’t wait for his decision.

She just reached out, squeezed his shoulder once, and stood.

“Whatever you do,” She said softly, “Do it for you. Not for anyone else.”

Then she walked out and closed the door behind her.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Bob sat frozen for a moment. Then, with shaking fingers, he reached for his phone, and typed in the number. His thumb hovered over the call button for a split second, before he pressed it and brought the speaker to his ear.

The line rang.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

And then–

“Hello?” Your voice broke like dawn through fog–quiet, breath-warmed, and raw with the kind of vulnerability that only comes when you’re bracing for impact.

Bob froze.

Not just his hands, or his breath–but in his soul…Something inside him went utterly still. It wasn’t peace, not quite. But it was close. Like that first inhale after you’ve been drowning, the way your lungs tremble under the relief.

“Y/N?” His voice cracked so hard on your name it didn’t even sound like him. The syllables were hoarse, wrecked, like they’d been caught in his throat for weeks–because they had.

There was a pause on the line. One breath. Two.

Then–

“Bob…” Your voice softened into something that sounded like disbelief. Breathless and aching. His name came out of your mouth like a secret you’d been holding too long. Like a prayer you weren’t sure would ever be answered. His eyes shut tightly. A tremor ran through his shoulders.

“I didn’t know if you’d call,” You whispered. He could hear the wind behind you, faint but constant, like you were standing just outside somewhere. Alone.

“I didn’t know if you’d pick up,” Bob said. You both went quiet again. Not the kind of silence that hurts, but the kind that trembles between two people who have too much to say and no idea where to start.

“I…” Bob swallowed, and it was audible through the line. “A-Are you okay?” The words slipped out fast, heavy with concern.

“I’m okay…I promise. I’m not in any danger…I…I just couldn’t keep hurting you by staying.”

“Y-You weren’t hurting me,” Bob said quietly. “But…You hurt me when you left.” There was a crackle of static across the line, but neither of you moved to fill it. It stretched for several heartbeats–full of words unsaid, grief unspoken.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, and it nearly crushed him. “I should’ve told you I was leaving. I should’ve said goodbye. But I knew if I looked at you… I wouldn’t be able to go.”

Bob closed his eyes. His free hand trembled in his lap, clutching the paper Yelena had given him so tightly it had begun to wrinkle. He pressed the phone harder to his ear, as if doing so could make you physically closer.

“Why didn’t you let me help you?”

“Because you already carry too much,” You breathed. “Because I’ve seen what happens when people ask you to bear more than you should. And I couldn’t be the thing that pushed you over the edge. I couldn’t be the reason the Sentry came back.”

“You wouldn’t have been,” He said immediately, desperate. “And you never will be. The only time I ever felt like I could hold myself together was when I was near you.” You let out a shaky breath.

”Bob…”

”Please tell me you’ll come home…” He interrupted before you could continue. There was a pause and he swore he could hear your heartbeat through the speaker.

”I don’t have a date yet,” You said, quiet and trembling, “But when I do…I promise I’ll tell you first.” Bob pressed a hand to his chest, like he could soothe the ache under his ribs with sheer pressure.

“O-Okay…” There was a pause, and Bob heard another gust of wind blow by the speaker/

“I miss you…” He added, voice small. You didn’t answer right away. But when you did, he could hear the sorrow behind your words.

“I miss you too, Bob. I think about you all the time. You’re…Everywhere. In the little things. I can’t even make tea without hearing your voice in my head asking if I want honey in it.” You laughed under your breath, but it broke halfway through. “God, I missed your voice so much…” He dropped his head, let his eyes squeeze shut.

“I haven’t dreamed of you since you left.”

There was a long pause.

“Not once?” You asked, and the tremble in your voice fractured him. He shook his head even though you couldn’t see it.

“No more fields. No more sunlight. Not even your name. Just…Nothing. It’s like you got pulled out of the part of me that knew how to dream.”You were silent for a long time. When you spoke again, it sounded like you were holding back tears.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered. “That’s not what I wanted. That’s not what this was supposed to feel like. I thought I was protecting you.”

“I know,” He replied softly. “And maybe you were. But it still feels like someone carved the color out of the world.” You let out a breath that caught halfway up your chest.

“I still see you, Bob. In my sleep. Every night. You’re always there. Reading. Smiling. Saying my name like it means something.”

“It does mean something,” He said, sudden and sure. “It means everything to me.” You both fell quiet again, but the line didn’t feel empty–it felt like it was being held between you, like a thread stretched across distance.

“I should let you sleep,” You said eventually. “It’s late.”

“I don’t really sleep,” He admitted. “Not lately.”

“Still…I’ll be here tomorrow.” Bob nodded, swallowing thickly.

“Okay. I’ll call.”

“I’ll pick up.”

There was a pause. A heartbeat. A thousand things unsaid in the silence.

“Goodnight, Bob.”

His voice broke on the answer. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

The line went dead, but he didn’t move for a long time. Just sat there on the edge of the bed with the paper still in his hand, and the phone pressed to his chest–like he could keep the warmth of your voice inside him a little longer. Like maybe if he held still enough, he could start dreaming again.

———Three Months Later———

The sun was sinking low on the horizon as you pulled into the backlot of the compound.

It had been ninety-one days, and every single one was spent counting down to this.

You had put in the work, you had done every single activity Second Light gave to you. They helped unravel the mental block that was inhibiting you from containing your powers properly, they gave you techniques on how to control everything, and own it rather than have it own you. It took a lot of time, but when you were finally able to get the courage to touch one of the counselors without fear of hurting them, you cried for hours.

The tires crunched over the gravel, and your hands–steady, and sure–tightened around the wheel as you brought the car to a stop in your old spot. Your heart pounded so loud it echoed in your ears. You hadn’t told anyone else the exact time you’d be arriving. Just Bob. And when you looked up toward the main doors–there he was.

Bob stood perfectly still at the top of the steps, hands clutched at his sides like he didn’t trust them not to tremble. His eyes were wide, too-bright in the low golden light, and his mouth was slightly open, as if he’d forgotten how to breathe. His sweatshirt looked too big on him again, sleeves bunched at the wrists, and his hair was messy like he’d been pacing with his hands dragging through it all day. He hadn’t moved an inch. Not until you flung the door open.

You slammed it behind you and ran.

Hard, fast, and unthinking–like you had been holding yourself back for too long and couldn’t wait one more second. The sound of your boots echoed over the concrete of the backlot, and Bob descended the steps just as you reached them. Your arms collided first, wrapping around his shoulders, and his hands caught your waist so firmly it made your knees buckle. The impact knocked a breath out of both of you.

“Bob,” You gasped against his neck.

“God–” His voice cracked as his arms crushed you closer, one hand at your lower back, the other gripping the back of your jacket like if he let go, the ground might fall out from under him. “I-I missed you–I missed you so bad.”

You buried your face into his shoulder, and his chest was warm and alive beneath your cheek. No gloves. No hesitation. Just contact–real, and grounded, aching with every second lost and every second recovered.

When you finally pulled back–just enough to see him–your hands slid up his chest, slow and reverent. You cradled his face between your palms, thumbs brushing the smooth apples of his cheeks, and he leaned into the touch with a breathless noise that tore straight from his chest. His stubble was warm and soft beneath your fingers, the bone beneath solid and familiar.

“You feel…” You whispered, eyes searching his face like a map you’d only ever been allowed to look at from a distance. “God, you feel real.”

Bob’s eyes shimmered. He lifted one trembling hand to wrap gently around your wrist, and with aching care, he turned your palm inward and pressed a kiss to it.

His lips lingered there. Like he didn’t just want to kiss you–he wanted to memorize the pulse beneath your skin. His breath hitched as he pulled away just enough to whisper against your fingers:

“I-I’ve been looking forward to this…For ninety-one d-days…” You swallowed hard, feeling the limp in your throat.

“I kept dreaming about what it would feel like to touch you. And when I realized I could–I knew the first person I ever wanted to hold like this again…Was you.” You whispered.

He looked at you like you hung constellations in his chest.

And then he leaned in.

It was slow at first, but when your eyes fluttered shut, and your breath ghosted over his lips, he immediately closed the gap and kissed you.

It was soft. So soft it nearly broke you.

Mouths brushing, lips catching, breath mingling between one shared heartbeat. His hand slid up to cup your jaw as yours clutched the front of his sweatshirt, and the kiss deepened with a quiet, desperate sound from his chest. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t perfect. But it was everything you had both been waiting for.

When you finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against yours, and your breaths came in tandem–shaky, trembling, full of something holy.

You stayed wrapped in that shared breath, forehead to forehead, the weight of absence melting between your bodies. His thumb brushed along your cheek, catching a tear you didn’t realize had fallen. You laughed softly under your breath–shaky and overwhelmed–as your hands slid into his hair, fingers curling at the nape of his neck just to feel more of him.

Bob pulled back a few inches, just enough to look at you.

And he looked. Like he was trying to memorize every inch of your face, like you might disappear if he blinked. His lips were parted, breath still coming in short little exhales, and his eyes looked like they were drowning in stars.

“I need to kiss you again,” He said, voice low, like a prayer barely surviving in his throat. “Please.”

You nodded and this time he didn’t hesitate.

This kiss was different.

It wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t soft.

It was everything.

He kissed you like you were the gravity keeping him on the ground, like he had been dreaming of your mouth every single night and was now trying to make up for every one he had woken from aching. It was unsteady, raw, and filled with three months worth of longing that was unspoken through trembling phone calls and sleepless nights.

You whimpered into it, gripping his sweatshirt like a rope as he backed you up toward the concrete wall until your spine met the coolness of it. His hand slid up the side of your body, careful, reverent, his palm finally resting over your heart.

And when he pulled back, his forehead pressed to yours again, his breath hitched–then stilled.

“I–I love you,” He said.

It broke like thunder between you, cracking the silence with truth too big to hold back any longer. “I love you,” He repeated, as if saying it once couldn’t possibly be enough.

“I love you, and I never stopped. Not for a single second. I didn’t know how to say it before you left, but I said it every time I closed my eyes. Every time I picked up the phone. I was afraid it would hurt you to hear it–but not saying it hurt more.”

Tears welled again, catching the glow of the fading sun, and you cupped his face tighter, your thumbs brushing the wet beneath his lashes.

“You just said it perfectly,” You whispered. “You said everything.”

And then your voice broke–just a little. Because this time, it wasn’t from pain. It was from something fuller. Heavier. Brighter.

“I love you too, Bob. I think I’ve loved you from the start–I just didn’t know what to do with something that big. But I’m not afraid of it anymore. I’m not afraid of touching you. I’m not afraid of myself. Not if it means I get to have you.”

His breath caught, and he leaned in again–gentler this time. His lips brushed yours in a kiss that felt more like a vow. Slow. Sure. Infinite.

Around you, the backlot was quiet. The last of the sun slipped below the skyline, casting everything in a golden afterglow that made the world feel suspended–like time itself had paused just to bear witness. And when Bob pulled back again, smiling for the first time in what felt like years, he whispered,

“W-Welcome home..”

You smiled back, radiant through your tears, and took his hand.

“Take me inside,” You said. “I want to start over. Right here. With you.”

And together, under the weight of everything that had brought you back, you walked into the compound hand in hand.

Like nothing had ever broken.

Like everything had always led to this.

——LE FIN——

[angelsforthenight]

PERVERT ABBY PERVERT ABBY I BEG!!!!!!!!! Also, the camgirl vi series was so lovely . enjoyed reading it :3

note: thank u very much ^_^ this request got me excited,,, whether abby is a sub or dom in this fic is up for interpretation btw cus there’s kind of a mix of both hehehehe

pervert abby headcanons

content (18+): masturbating, groping, voyeurism, oral fixation

— there is always, ALWAYS an underlying meaning to the way she touches you. whether it be a hand splayed on the small of your back, or the way her thumb would slowly rub circles on your hips, or your knuckles.

— if you would lean down to get something, her hands would be on your hips and she’d be playfully thrusting. or if it was a hot summer day and you were sucking on a popsicle, her lips would crackle into a grin and she wouldn’t be able to take her eyes off you

— professional panty thief!!!!! steals them like they’re treasure. and oh, she definitely puts them to use, alright: stuffing them in her mouth as a gag when touching herself. they come in handy when you’re gone and she’s missing you.

— calls you when masturbating, masking it as a normal phone call: asking about your day, listening to you yap whilst fingering herself crazy style. you’d hear heavy breathing on the line and ask if she’s alright, only to be followed with a curt, breathy “mhm! keep talking.”

— it’d be an absolute leap in the dark listening to her voice notes whilst out with your friends. you never know when it would be something important, or a minute long message of her moaning and whimpering; babbling incoherently over how much she misses you whilst clearly fucking herself.

— where ordinary people would be merely jealous and frustrated, her absolute favourite thing would be watching others try to hit on you. she’d revel just… watching. spotting someone so clearly trying to plot on you when you’re already taken. that’s when she would outwardly show off, groping you obscenely whilst maintaining eye contact with the culprit.

— adding onto that, abby would also get off on you trying to make her jealous. it turns her on to imaginable levels seeing you attempt to get her attention by flirting with another stranger. makes you suspect she’d let you fuck someone else as long as she gets to watch. who knows?

— before you started dating, she had a phase where all she could do was touch herself to your photos online. no porn, or erotic piece of content ever amounted to the glory of your pictures, even if they were hardly sexual. it was the only thing that could get her off.

— UNRESTRAINED when it comes to dirty talk, like a dog let loose. you have no idea how she can say such filthy words coated in the sweetest voice ever. she knows exactly what she’s doing too, and worst thing of all: she means every word she says. lying isn’t really her thing after all.

— instead of letting you know that you have something near your mouth, she quietly wipes it off herself; the pad of her thumb rubbing the corner of your lips, helplessly shifting to drag along your bottom lip. sometimes it ‘accidentally’ slips inside, and suddenly you’re sucking her thumb like she can feel it down there.

a/n: requests are open!!!! i’m back and i’m excited to do these aaahhh might not do all but i’ll tryyy. keep in mind though if something is too similar to other works i’ve done then i’ll probably not do it i’m sorry!!!! ( ;´ - `;)

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I wanna see what’s Ace’s family’s reaction when they found out Ace is dating reader Heheheh

I decided to have only Ace's brother present, since Mr. and Mrs. Trappola have yet to receive strong characterization.

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

The Trappola brothers sat across from one another upon red velvet chairs, and you, between them. They were both intently focused on building a house of playing cards—a task that Ace had warned took “serious patience, coordination, and a gentle touch.” (You had rolled your eyes and responded, “Great. You let me know when you’ve found someone that has all that.”)

Ace carefully laid a Two of Spades down, formed a triangle with a Three of Clubs and a Four of Diamonds. His hand slowly retreated, and the triangle stayed. He expelled a sigh, directed away from the cards so as to not disturb them.

You would have clapped for him, but Ace had discouraged you before the game had even started. So instead, you tapped your index and middle fingers together. Still giving applause, but not nearly enough to rattle the house of cards.

“Your move.”

“Huh, you’ve gotten better at this,” his brother mused. He toyed with an Ace of Hearts, expertly twirling it between dexterous fingers. “Too bad. I was really looking forward to smoking you in front of your new friend.”

“In your dreams,” Ace sneered, passing you a glance. “The last thing I’d want is to look uncool in front of my partner.”

His brother drew himself up in his seat. The card in his hand, stilling. “Your partner? Since when were you two a thing?”

“Oh, you know… since a while ago,” Ace casually replied. “And honestly, I can’t really blame’m. Who wouldn’t fall for my dashing good looks and roguish charm? I’m a catch!”

His brother regarded you with an almost pitying look. “It’s not too late to change your mind,” he advised.

You burst into laughter. "I think I'm good. Ace is an idiot, but he's at least my idiot."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you've got a sense of humor. You'll need that if you're going to put up with Ace all of the time. Congrats, you passed the first test."

"Whaddya mean 'put up with' me?!" Ace protested, puffing up his cheeks. A pout--adorable, you think.

"I mean it exactly how I said it. It's practically a full-time job dealing with you," his brother replied cheekily. "You gotta prepare people for it, or else they won't know what they've signed up for."

"Oh, come on! You're making me sound way worse than I actually am."

"This, coming from the guy who ghosted his ex?" He smirked, and you could see the family resemblance in it. The slight narrowing of the eyes, the way his mouth angled. "I dunno, I was half expecting you to stay single forever after that royal screw-up, lil' bro. You're lucky you found someone willing to take you~"

Pink exploded onto Ace's cheeks. "H-Hey...!" he hissed, leaning toward his brother. "Did you seriously have to bring that up?! Have a little more tact, will ya?!"

The older Trappola grinned. "Gotcha."

You realized why.

Ace's sudden movement had sent a slight breeze against the card house. It wobbled from top to bottom--then the structure collapsed in on itself, the cards all folding into one another. Within seconds, the house was a pile on the coffee table.

Ace fell to his knees with a pathetic wail, scrambling to salvage his hard work. His brother looked on, chuckling. A card, still in his hand.

"I didn't place mine yet," he declared triumphantly, "and since you made the house fall, it's technically my win!"

"Y-You sneaky...! You taunted me on purpose!!"

"Yeah, and it worked like a charm." He flicked Ace on the forehead. "You were too busy trying to flex in front of your S/O. It was easy to take advantage of that. You always were a cocky, predictable brat."

"Grrrrr..!!"

"Ace, it's fine," you soothed him, a hand on his arm. "You did your best. It doesn't change how I feel about you."

"Tch, there you go being all sappy again... You're so lame sometimes," Ace grumbled--but he covered your hand with his. A small gesture, but a reassuring one.

"Hahah, look at you two lovebirds," his brother teased, wagging a finger at you. Then he reached out and roughly ruffled Ace's hair, despite his complaints and attempts to swat him away. "Happy for you though, lil' bro! You gotta tell me how this love story started--"

[o-sunny-day]

@forgettable-au FAN ANIMATION ! LOUD NOISE WARNING!

*What was it all for…?

Song: Vishnu <3 by Peter Cat Recording Co.

…okay.

The main inspiration for this…can be summed up with I LOVE HOW SAD THIS CONCEPT IS. BUT i also adore how WEIRD it is.

This whole thing must be pretty weird and creepy for the characters right??? Like- we dont know for certain what EXACTLY is gonna happen, but we know for a fact that Wingdings finds out hes in a game, then kills himself so he can be closer with god-

THATS PRETTY WEIRD 😭😭 also sad but we can ignore that for now

I also experimented a tad with this in working with silence, so timing things at my own pace! It was really hard! I HAD SO MUCH FUN!!!!!!!

But, time for my FAVORITE PART….ANALYSIS!!!

DISCLAIMER: some things stated as fact haven’t been said in the blog/arent canon to the au itself, just my animation/theories/interpretation, cause i’m silly and headcanoning :3

TITLE:

The proper title ive given this is “To You” which means 2 different and very vague things. What happened to you? and sending a message like “this is To You”.

In that case, “you” is whichever version of Papyrus/Wingdings/Gaster you want- Its not exactly clear which version of him means “you” which is kinda the point. The lines blur together sometimes…

But yeah, Gaster/crazy WD sends messages TOO himself so they’re “To You”

CONTEXT

Wingdings has JUST turned himself into Gaster. Ignore how impossible Sans interacting with him in this moment is, and just hear me out on the angst possibilities-

SCENE 1

As Sans approaches the mess- Gaster is encased in shadow, and looks at him. Expression not telling much- just looking blankly. Doesn’t even look like he’s alive… just… moving. Also the eye thats open, is just a slit. because- perspective. BUT I also had fun putting that there and going hehehehe it looks like WD/Papyrus’ eye

Sans approaches, and getting engulfed in the shadow, leaving the light.

His expression here was REALLY fun and REALLY hard to draw. Angry? maybe. stunned and terrified? DEFINITELY.

In this context (that doesn’t have a lot to go off of with the comics, YET) Sans knows that this was all very much intentional. He absolutely does not want to be angry, and is certainly only feeling it subconsciously.

But… he wanted so badly to understand, and enter his brother world. But now, Sans is just… Baffled. Hes like “what the fuck did you do???”

SCENE 2

Gaster continues to look blank. Looking up at Sans as he approaches, encasing him in even more shadow.

Sans’ hand reaches to Gasters face. From Sans’ perspective, his intentions are like checking for a pulse. Not literally ofc cause pulses arent on our face- but like, feeling for him. For a sign that something is there. (It’s also meant to be something motherly/comforting)

But then, Gaster leans into the touch, somewhat reciprocating this wordless “ive got you” gesture. That’s what makes Sans go from Terrified to just purely grief stricken. His brother is still alive. And he loves him.

But this form wont last for long…For universe fixing screw ups reasons :D 👍

SCENE 3

Gaster then opens his eyes, revealing hes even still got eye lights available for him. Thats what just SHATTERS the dam, and Sans embraces him suddenly.

SCENE(S) 4

Then, the “reset” happens, Gaster is gone, and Papyrus appears in place of Wingdings in his bed.

Nothing is boiling to add to a “frozen in terror” feeling!

Now- drawing all of the differences between the past and present rooms. DESTROYED ME. i HAD SO MUCH FUN BUT I ALSO CRIED 😭 There are no thank-you letters to santa, no racecar bed, no silly bone painting, no action figures, just BORING

I also wanted to keep everything monochromatic, so ofc we’ve got black and white for the void/Gaster, blue for Sans, red for Papyrus, and purple for Sans and Papyrus together.

The tape recorder and lab coat are still greyscale though cause Wingdings still has SOME of his stuff lying around. But the tapes are indecipherable, and Papyrus threw out that lab coat the first chance he got. It gave him the absolute worst feeling, worse than anything he’s ever experienced.

Something I also really enjoy is the fact that the dress shirts were still technically Wingdings’ but they’re red for Papyrus. The lab coat is the only real WINGDINGS thing that Papyrus wants absolutely no part in. Some things that were Wingdings’ are now Papyrus’ cause :D👍

in place of the bone painting are just family photos that I also have extra to say about. Someday I wanna make a comic of what happened to those/what I think would happen to em.

One day Papyrus is like “HEY UH- SANS! THESE PHOTOS! I DON’T LIKE LOOKING AT THEM! CAN WE NOT!?” Aka, he doesn’t remember these things happening/these photos being taken… BUT THEYRE PHOTOS OF HIM.

So he just feels really uncomfortable looking at memories he should reasonably remember, but doesn’t at all- and Sans gets that. But he keeps em in his drawer. Then! they hung up the bone thing in place of it cause SILLY!

But the family photos, I still had fun with. From left to right theyre a photo of Semi with the twins, the twins as baby bones, then as slightly older kids, then WDs graduation photo.

CONCLUSION!

This entire thing was so much fun, and I feel i’ve really grown as an artist over the process of experimenting and not being knocked down by annoying setbacks,

Also, as usual, Works In Progress’ plus extra behind the scenes stuff will be posted shortly after this!! YIPPEEE!!! HAPPY NIGHTMARES!!!!!

OHHHH ALSO EXTRA ART!!!

“AREN’T THEY BEAUTIFUL?”

That silly moment when your clone is really weirdly obsessed with stars and enthusiastically holds your eye sockets open to show you them

[yurinaa-world]

OKAY GALLAGHER MR RECA AND MOZE REACTING TO US CALLING HIM HUSBAND TO TEASE HIM IN PUBLIC HEHEHEHE

"𝓒𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓲𝓶 '𝓱𝓾𝓼𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓭 ' 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮—𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝔃𝓮, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓷’𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓹 𝓫𝓵𝓾𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰."

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Gallager, Mr. Reca, & Moze x Gender-Neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: calling him husband in public to tease him

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling Mistakes

💫𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈: Great minds think alike 😏

💫𝒢𝒶𝓁𝓁𝒶𝑔𝒽𝑒𝓇 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝒸𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝒪𝒻𝒻𝒾𝒸𝑒𝓇 𝒪𝒻 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐵𝓁𝑜𝑜𝒹𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝐹𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓎"

You always had the habit of showing up at the near end of his shift so you could walk back home with him. Which made every second and minute very painful while you sat there and teased him a little about how obviously he wanted to get this last over with. And of course, you're enjoying it since you get free drinks from the bartender as a benefit of being with him.

“At least make it look like you want to be here, or else you make customers run away.” You gently tease while stirring the straw of your drink, resulting in small bubbles and fizz sounds coming out. He groans at those teasing words.

“Not when you're the prize I get at the end.” He says softly while mixing a drink for his custom all while eyeing your pretty face from the corner of his eye. “Wow, does my husband not know better? Talk about that and you lose customers and business. Even a novice knows that.”

“You think I won't catch up on that.”

Pouring the colourful drink into a glass before passing it to the person who ordered it. He quickly switches, landing his, arms on the table as he leans till your face is inches away from his.

“Your ‘husband’, you really think I’ll let you get away with it.”

“Really? So sensitive over a word, you should use that time to help your customers,” 

Against that teasing tone, you used as you took two fingers and pressed them against his forehead to push him back. 

“Careful you might just go broke.”

💫𝑅𝑒𝒸𝒶 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝐹𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝐹𝒾𝓁𝓂 𝒟𝒾𝓇𝑒𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇 𝐼𝓃 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒞𝑜𝓈𝓂𝑜𝓈"

“You should really calm down. No need to stress so much.” you gently reminded him, even going as far as to land your hands on his shoulders and gently massaging them. The tension in his shoulders didn’t ease immediately, but he didn’t shrug you off. Instead, he let out a quiet sigh, leaning into your touch ever so slightly.

“You’ve got blessed hands, you know that?” he said, his voice warm despite the stress underlying his words. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’ve been practicing just for me.”

You smiled at his attempt to lighten the mood. “Maybe I have. Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t completely fall apart, my dear husband.” you gently tease him, not trying to mean at all, only lighting his mood.

He completely freezes at your words.

.

 he noticed it

.

You just called him.

.

“Maybe I have. Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t completely fall apart, my dear husband.”

.

“My dear husband”

He's your dear husband! Which leads to him hiding himself in your neck while gushing about marvellous and cute you. (you really know how to bring his mood).

“Ah, my darling!” he exclaimed, his voice muffled but brimming with excitement. “How can you just say something so perfect, so utterly delightful, and act like it’s nothing?”

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as he continued his dramatic display, his breath warm against your skin. “I-I didn’t mean anything special by it,” you stammered, though your flustered tone betrayed you.

“Oh, but it’s too late now,” he said, pulling back just enough to look at you, his face lit up with a bright grin. “You’ve called me your dear husband, and now I’m yours forever! No take-backs!”

💫𝑀𝑜𝓏𝑒 “𝒮𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓌 𝒢𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔”

“You should stay away from him.” 

You didn’t expect those words from Moze. Is he jealous or something? Jealous? Moze of all people, is jealous of a guy who just talked to you…No way you’re not going to tease him out of his mind. It’s just so funny!

“Are you jealous?”

He just groans and stares back at your grinning face, it's so obvious, no matter how he wants to keep that poker face on. Moze crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. Despite his best effort to maintain his stoic demeanour, the faint twitch of his lips betrayed him.

 “I’m not jealous,” he muttered, his tone cool but laced with irritation. “I just think you should be more careful about who you trust.” You couldn’t help but giggle, stepping closer to him with a playful gleam in your eyes. “Oh really? Because it kinda sounds like you’re jealous to me,”

“But it’s fine, I wouldn’t pick anyone aside from my husband.”

Moze froze, his arms uncrossing as he straightened up. His usually sharp expression faltered for a split second before he schooled his face into something resembling his usual calm. Only the faint blush creeping up his neck betrayed him.

“...Husband?” he echoed, his voice lower than usual, as if testing the word out in disbelief.

You couldn’t suppress your laughter, stepping even closer with a grin that only widened at his reaction. “That’s right, my dear husband. Who else would I pick?” you grin, leaning into him.

“You really like pushing your luck, don’t you?”

“I do, what are you doing to do about it?”

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[oopsiedaisydeer]

touching yourself ...in which sun leaves daisy some voicemails

m!masturbation, angst, loneliness, mental health struggles, sub!chris?, longing, vulnerability, intimacy, anonymous relationship

word count - 600ish

“you have 3 new messages, please press one to listen”

“first message received at 03:41am on Friday the 6th of June”

[soft click, line tone]

“Hiiiii Daisy… Dais. Daisy. Okay, I know we said, I know we said I shouldn't– that I’m not supposed to call you like this anymore. Now that we’re like. Y’know... friends. But I just had to Dais, I just…”

[soft thump]

“Because–god, my head’s spinning–because I went over to that girl’s house, the one from the party. Camila? Carmela? Camel… no, no, Camila.”

[laughs faintly]

“Partly just because she kept texting me, obviously trying to… well, you know. And I kept thinking about how I shouldn't. So obviously I did.”

[clink]

“I think I thought she was you. For those first fifteen minutes. And then I really knew she wasn’t. She’s beautiful, like, objectively, but she doesn’t talk like you. Doesn’t laugh like you. She’s just… she’s not you, and she’s, I mean no one else is ever going to be. Like you.”

[fabric rustling, quiet groan]

“She wanted me, I think. I really still don’t know why. But I was there. And I was drunk. So I slept with her. I guess.”

[long pause]

“There’s nothing more I wanted tonight than to see you. I want that almost every night."

"The sex was fine. She came, I think. Pretty sure. I tried. Gosh, I always try. But… right after, she started talking, and I just— I just couldn’t do it. I put my jeans back on. Praying that she didn’t see I was still half-hard, like a fucking idiot.”

[sad laugh]

“That was because of you, by the way. That’s not weird, right? That I don’t even know what you look like, and I’m still… still like this?”

[quiet]

“I guess love is blind. Or whatever”

[click]

“end of message”

“second message received at 4:27 am”

[click]

[silence]

[breathy groan]

“Fuck, Dais…”

[bed creaking]

“I know, I know I shouldn’t have called. But I just couldn’t, fuck. I need you so bad it hurts.”

[voice lower, hoarse]

“I really need you right now Dais, you just, ugh, you always make me feel better. Make me feel like I’m not completely… fucked. Close my eyes and it’s your voice I hear. Your voice, baby.”

[fabric shifting, hitch in breath]

“God, I’m so fucking hard. I tried not to be. I did. But then, I thought about that time, the way you were breathing, trying not to moan. I just, I really didn’t mean to but you’re all I think about, you just, you got me so bad. I love you, Daisy, I honestly think I'm in love with you.”

[groan]

“M’like humping the mattress, at this point, fuck, it’s pathetic. You just… you know me better than any other girl, ma, and I, that’s all I really want. I wish it was your thigh. Your stomach. Your mouth, anything, just you.”

[wet squelches]

“I love you, Daisy. I love you and I need you. I’m so close, baby, but I don’t wanna come without hearing you. Wanna come for you. With you. Like before. Please.”

[whimper]

“Please pick up, please. I just… really wanna hear your voice.”

[shaky exhale]

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry."

"I just… hope you’re not mad I called you, Dais.”

“Goodnight.”

[click]

“end of message”

“third message received at 6:39 am”

[click]

[silence]

[quiet sigh]

“Hey. Um… I’m really sorry, Dais. Just ignore those. I shouldn’t have called.”

[rustle] 

“Didn’t mean to drag you into my stupid night.”

“Hope you’re good.”

[silence]

“Talk later.”

[mumbles, barely audible] “I miss you.”

“Sun.”

[click]

“you have reached the end of your messages. to delete, press seven. to save, press nine.”

[dial tone]

[silence]

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws ꨄ

a/n: they're back!!!!!!! heheheh i love edging

[welostheplot]

── 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 ᨒ↟☾.࿔*:･ 𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞 𝐢 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: vampire!ellie williams / werewolf!abby anderson / reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: during your first week of school, you get a taste of jackson—its biting mountain air, cliquey friend groups, and a steady stream of hallway gossip. you learn about the millers, though “learn” feels like a strong word considering how little anyone actually knows.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: no warnings! besides a touch of daddy issues if you really squint.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3.1k

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: i was literally kicking my feet writing the iconic bio class scene hehehehe. just so we're all on the same page, the twilight parallels will be both from the books and the movies!! :0 also thank you for all the support on this series so far!

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐄 𝐈 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄: "welcome to jackson"

YOU HADN'T CRIED YET.

not when you said goodbye to your mother, who clutched you in a fierce embrace in the middle of the chaotic phoenix airport terminal, her own tears wetting the shoulder of your crewneck.

not when you experienced the stomach-dropping sensation of the plane's wheels lifting from the tarmac.

not when you unpacked your clothes into the dusty drawers of the wooden dresser shoved into the corner of the your bedroom and prayed the mothball smell wouldn't seep into the fabric of your shirts.

not even when you finally did fall asleep that first night, every creak and hum seeming a thousand decibels louder in a house left empty thanks to your father's overnight shift at the police station.

but now, standing outside jackson hole high with the hard plastic of one of your binders biting into the skin of your palm and your hair sticking to your cheek from the snow flurries, you kind of wanted to.

you had hoped getting out of the unforgiving january cold and into the school away from the dreary, overcast weather might improve your mood, even minorly.

it didn’t.

inside, the hallways smelled like petrichor and old textbooks, and your damp converse squeaked with every step on tile floors worn down from generations of boots and snow.

the woman at the front desk of the main office was nice enough, handing you a stack of papers with a patronizing pat to your shoulder. kept calling you “hon” and giving you smiles that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“you’re the chief’s kid, right?” she asked, like she already knew the answer.

you nodded.

“well,” she said, placing your class schedule on top of the growing pile of printed materials. “welcome to jackson.”

YOUR HOMEROOM WAS ALREADY FULL WHEN YOU ARRIVED.

if you didn’t already think the people of jackson had a staring problem, entering the classroom and being forced to stand in front of twenty curious eyes while your teacher introduced you sealed the deal.

after she finished butchering your name (you didn’t have the heart to correct her and hoped the mispronunciation wouldn’t stick), she gestured for you to take a seat near the back.

the chair squeaked as you settled into it. someone a row over whispered something you didn’t catch.

you were halfway through pretending to listen to announcements detailing clubs and events you knew nothing about when someone tapped your shoulder.

you flinched. then turned.

“hi,” said a girl with big, inquisitive brown eyes and shiny cherry red lip gloss. “i’m cassie.”

you blinked. remembered your dad’s newest kitchen countertop note from that morning: be safe. have fun. make friends.

“hi.”

“you’re new?”

you thought it was pretty fucking obvious. but held your tongue. “yeah.”

she smiled like it was something the two of you were now in on.

“i’ll show you where the good vending machine is,” she said. “the one that always has the red sunchips in stock.”

you decided she’d be worth keeping around.

THE LUNCHROOM WAS A MINEFIELD.

you had barely made it through the cafeteria doors before you were overwhelmed by the roar of hungry high schoolers. it was loud and bustling, but organized chaos: every table had its own ecosystem.

cheerleaders. jocks. theater kids. a group in the back wearing too much camo and carhartt.

cassie stuck to your side like she was being paid to do so, firmly guiding you to a table where three other people already sat.

they looked normal enough. or at least that’s how you felt until you were forced to awkwardly hover with your tray of food while one of them—“nat. short for natalie. but you can call me anything you want, new girl.”—insisted on pulling your chair out for you in an act of chivalry.

“laying it on a bit thick, don’tcha think?” cassie chided as devin, the awkward but oddly confident, spiky-haired boy sitting to your left, made his second comment in five minutes about how pretty he thought your hair was.

you let out an embarrassed chuckle and scraped at the sticker on your apple with the jagged, bitten nail of your thumb.

then there were hands gripping your shoulders from behind, giving you a teasing shake as another student flirtingly jeered, “everyone just can’t get enough of the shiny new toy from arizonaaaaa.”

“knock it off, marcus, you’re clearly making her uncomfortable,” leah, a soft-spoken girl with round-rimmed glasses, came to your rescue from across the circular lunch table.

“wait, aren’t girls from arizona supposed to be like... bimbo sorority girl wannabes?”

you didn’t really know what to do with that, opting for an awkward attempt at self-deprecating humor—your specialty.

“yeah... maybe that’s why they... kicked me out. i dunno.”

there was a beat before the table dissolved into laughter, seemingly placated by your joke and attention shifting to individual conversations you didn’t have the energy to insert yourself into.

you let their chatter fade into background noise, opting to scan the room, your eyes bouncing from face to face.

that’s when you noticed.

it was them again. that weird group from the gas station.

and your eyes were, once more, instantly drawn to that same girl in particular.

she sat slightly slouched in her seat, elbow resting on the surface of the table, fingers drumming a slow rhythm next to a tray of food she paid no mind to.

then the energy in the room shifted. and your stomach twisted.

because she was now looking at you.

not a glance or a casual once-over.

a stare. direct and unblinking.

you dropped your gaze immediately, and the thumbnail you’d still been mindlessly scraping over the apple sticker bit into the flesh of the fruit as you white-knuckled the object in embarrassment at being caught.

“the millers.”

the words came from cassie, unprompted, like she knew what you were thinking.

“and the one who just caught you staring? ellie.”

you scoffed and rushed to defend yourself, but cassie barged on like she didn’t even hear you. “they’re foster siblings, technically. joel—he’s their, like, dad-uncle-grandpa figure, i don’t really know. they keep to themselves.”

you tried to sound normal when you asked, “what’s her deal?”

cassie raised an eyebrow.

“what’s your deal?” she countered.

you smiled, the left corner of your mouth tilting up, and she returned it, then fixed you with a serious look.

“don’t waste your time trying to get in with them, by the way. the millers don’t talk to anyone.”

“why not?”

cassie shrugged. “some say they’re homeschooled weirdos. others say they’re part of some religious cult. i say serial killers.”

you blinked. “seriously?”

she grinned. “kidding! ...mostly.”

you turned your head just enough to sneak another glance back at their table.

the freckled girl—ellie—was still staring at you.

and now she looked pissed.

YOU COULDN'T WAIT TO GET HOME.

you spent the rest of the school day navigating the maze of hallways and trying not to react too stiffly to each new, overly friendly introduction that came your way.

you'd even managed to put on an embarrassing, flailing display in p.e. that somehow resulted in you smacking the ball over the net into an empty spot on the other team’s side of the court, earning your own team the winning point.

“way to go, arizona!!!” nat had yelled from across the gym, not even trying to pretend she wasn’t throwing her own group’s game in favor of watching you instead.

now, you were in the home stretch with your final class: biology.

you approached the entrance to the lab, eyeing the interior of the room and its durable tables designed specifically for partner work.

and then realized how the only available seat was next to...

ellie.

you hesitated at the doorway, mentally weighing whether it might be worth it to ask your teacher to reassign you, the memory of ellie’s intense, angry gaze in the cafeteria still haunting you.

ultimately, the decision was made for you: you had already arrived late, there were no other empty seats, and you were promptly ushered further into the lab room by your teacher, who damn near slammed the door shut behind you in his desire to get the lesson started quickly.

you stumbled forward at the brisk movement, a gust of air from the sharp swing of the door strong enough to blow a few unruly strands of hair into your face.

collecting yourself and brushing the hair back with a quick swipe of your hand, you took your seat—but not before noting how ellie visibly recoiled at the mere scent of you.

you weren’t much of a perfume user; you had grown up occasionally asking your mother for a dollop of cucumber melon bath & body works lotion before school, in an attempt to “smell pretty” and fit in like the other girls your age.

but you knew for sure you didn’t stink, and you had even opted to roll on an extra layer of deodorant before and after p.e. in fear of the nervous sweats. you tried to subtly sniff at your shoulder as you settled onto your lab stool anyway.

ellie sat rigidly, her eyes fixated on the small petri dishes that rested on the table in front of you both.

as the teacher began the lesson, you chanced a glance at her. her jaw was clenched, and her hands were balled into fists on the table.

“hey,” you ventured softly.

“i’m new here.”

she didn’t respond, her eyes narrowing slightly.

the tension was palpable. you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

with a shaky hand, the other one clasped firmly over the lower half of her face in an attempt to 'subtly' cover her nose, she nudged your petri dish towards your end of the table and slid her own closer to her side.

then, she hunched in on herself, angling her body away from you as much as she could while still facing forward to pay attention to the lesson.

this was going to be a long forty-five minutes.

AS SOON AS THE BELL RUNG, SHE WAS OUT OF HER SEAT.

her stool screeched against the tile at the sudden movement, and by the time you fully registered what had happened, she was already up at the front of the room, seemingly arguing with the teacher.

ellie jerked her head back in your direction, muttering in a voice that was quiet yet urgent. you couldn’t make out the words, but the teacher shook his head, and she stormed out of the room.

it didn't take a genius to infer that you, for some reason, were the problem.

confused and honestly unsettled, you made your way back to the front office to make sure all the paperwork for your transfer had been finalized before leaving for the day.

as you approached the desk, you saw ellie there, her back to you. she seemed to be engaged in a debate even more heated than the one you witnessed back at the lab. this time, you were actually in earshot of the conversation.

it was your first time hearing what her voice sounded like, low and a bit raspy. you’d have probably taken more time to enjoy the timbre of it had she not been asking to transfer out of her biology class as soon as possible.

you caught your name. and then: “…any other open labs? i'll retake astronomy if i have to.”

"you passed astronomy with flying colors, ellie. if mrs. cochran could've given you a grade above an A+, she would've."

upon your entry, she turned slightly, green eyes widening as she saw you. without another word, she brushed past you and exited the office.

you stood there for a moment, processing the encounter. the same front desk woman, still wearing that fake smile, beckoned you forward and asked if you had a good first day as a newly official ‘jackson hole bronco.’

ten minutes later, as your truck pulled out of the quickly emptying school parking lot, you gripped the cold steering wheel and tried to keep your tears at bay.

YOU DON’T SEE ELLIE AT SCHOOL THE NEXT DAY.

and one day with no sight of her quickly becomes the rest of the week. none of the millers seemed to be in attendance, actually. you were perplexed as to why nobody batted an eye at their disappearance.

you guessed it must be that typical “homeschooled weirdo” behavior as cassie had called it.

when curiosity got the best of you one night during yet another dinner where your dad spent more time watching the game than talking (you didn’t blame him—starting over was awkward for everyone involved), you’d asked him about them.

“what do you know about the millers?”

your dad’s eyes finally left the grainy tv screen to look at you instead. he spent longer than necessary chewing a bite of his steak. scratched at his beard.

“their dad— er.. their… joel? whatever he is to them, he’s doing something right. kids never cause any issues with me or the force, unlike some of the others in this town.”

you nodded, ready to leave it there.

your dad regarded you carefully. stabbed at a roasted mini potato with his fork. didn’t move to eat it just yet.

“why do you ask? one of them do somethin' to you?”

you paused, unsure. why had you asked? you didn't even know any of their names besides hers. and at this rate, their attendance made it seem like they’d skipped towns or something anyways.

you shrugged, sliding out of your chair and bringing your empty plate to the sink to scrub at it.

“they’re just kinda…. odd. yanno?”

he nodded in agreement. “this town’s got some quirks. everyone’s a little weird,” was his gruff reply.

“but quite frankly? we’re lucky to have someone as smart as joel around on the council. don’t know what this town would do without him.”

you shook the excess water off of your now-clean plate, moving to prop it up on the drying rack. taking a chance at breaking the ice, you joked: "all of them kind of look like they stepped out of a magazine."

with a chuckle, your dad replied, "you should see joel miller in the flesh then. he's got all the moms in town swooning."

you both laughed and there was a comfortable silence after. it was the first conversation you'd had with him that didn't feel like you were talking to a complete stranger.

YOUR MOM CALLED YOU LATER THAT NIGHT.

your phone nearly vibrated off the bathroom counter as you rushed to spit out foamy toothpaste, caught mid-brush. the screen was lit up with some number you didn't recognize, but you answered anyway.

“there’s my big shot jacksonite,” she cooed, the sounds of clinking bottles and a laugh that definitely wasn't hers echoing faintly behind her.

“what’s the damage? has the cold frozen off any of your toes yet?”

“nope, no frostbite yet,” you mumbled, sliding under your covers into bed and pulling up the duvet to your chin.

"well, tell me everything about your first week at school! i was gonna write you a postcard, but then i realized i can just harass you over the phone instead."

you smiled, even though your chest ached a little. you had missed the sound of someone who actually knew you.

"not much to tell. it's pretty boring here. cold. people stare a lot."

“probably because you’re the most interesting thing that’s happened to that school in ten years,” was her reply.

a loud beep cut in through the line. "please insert 25 cents for three more minutes."

“ugh, hold on—stupid machine—”

you could hear her fumbling for coins, the clang of quarters, the receiver wobbling as she probably tucked it between her cheek and shoulder. "you're calling me from a payphone?"

"don’t sound so horrified! we’re between cell towers and i saw one out back behind the bar. it’s vintage. kind of romantic," she added, dreamy.

"oh!" she gasped. "speaking of romance—have you met any cute guys yet?"

you rolled your eyes automatically.

"oops! i mean girls. girls, right, right—sorry, honey, i always forget. force of habit."

a beat.

"have you told your dad about that yet?"

you snuggled further into your bed.

"...no."

another pause. longer this time.

“okay,” she said, softer now. “you don’t have to. not ‘til you’re ready. just don’t think you can’t, okay? he’s a little slow but he’s not a lost cause.”

“mm,” you said, which was safer than agreeing.

“he used to wear cargo shorts year-round, babe. if that man can grow out of that, he can come around to anything.”

you snorted softly. there was a stretch of silence where neither of you said anything, listening to each other's breathing.

“i miss you,” you murmured.

“i miss you more,” she said softly. “i think i might’ve cried for, like, the entire state of utah.”

“you say that like you didn’t ship me off yourself.”

“hey! it was a joint decision. plus, your dad missed you. and us? we need some time to… i dunno. exist in a tiny metal box and pretend we don’t have any obligations.”

you laughed in spite of yourself.

"he’s still good to you?"

“he’s still amazing,” she confirmed. “he bought me one of those horrible souvenir snowglobes at a gas station today and told me it was for when i wanted a reminder of you since you're out there shivering in the jackson tundra. rich, hot, and super thoughtful.”

“gross.”

“i know, right?” she sighed contentedly. “but also… not.”

a strange pang tugged at your chest. you were happy for her, but the kind of happy that also stings.

“i’m glad you’re good, mom.”

“me too, baby.”

another loud beep cut in. “please insert 25 cents for three more minutes.”

"ugh. okay, this thing's unforgiving and i think they just announced last call. probably time to hit the road anyway."

you bit your lip. "call me when you're somewhere normal. preferably from your cell, please."

“what is normal, really?” she hummed.

and honestly? after moving here, you found yourself asking the same question more and more.

"i love you, honey. keep sending me those e-mail updates. i'll read 'em like they're the tabloids whenever we can stop at a library and get to a computer."

"love you more. bye mom," you got out, just before the call dropped.

you tucked your phone under the pillow your head was resting on and curled into yourself. no matter how much you tried to cuddle in, the sheets were cold, and the wind howled faintly outside your window. but her voice lingered—soft and bright and warm around the edges.

as you drifted off to sleep, you found yourself thinking, not for the first time that week, about a girl with sharp green eyes and a voice like gravel.

you wondered if she’d be back on monday.

this work is mine. please don’t repost, copy, or publish elsewhere without permission. thank you!

[thanosscross]

Your gift has arrived

Hehehehe

But also a gift of a request.... To show our pretty boy here some more love, I think we should see some reader getting jealous a bit of a few handsy fangirls at a show, and reader leaves a mark or two on his neck, through out the whole ordeal, pretty boy is just amused and playful 😌👀

Absolutely love this! 10/10 filling meal, I am being served with the best <33

Jealous Princess - Kwon Ji-Yong/G-Dragon x reader

Summary: After some handsy fangirls leave you feeling rather possessive, your boyfriend, Ji-Yong can't help but find it all entertaining

Warnings: This is some hot stuff, lovelies, so be careful for burns ;), Smuttt

As Ji-Yong stepped on the stage he wore a knowing smirk, his costume for the show was his fantastic baby leather jacket and a pair of his jeans, nothing underneath his jacket, revealing the deep purple and maroon colored hickeys trailing from his jawline down to his v-line, the woman responsible for said marks sat about 20-30 feet away from him in V.I.P, blushing brightly as you realized he was serious about not wearing a shirt their next show.

Now, this wasn’t a normal for either of you, it all started last month, whenever their BigBang tour started, you joined along for some shows just to watch and support not only your boyfriend but his friends as well, who had turned into family for you. Whenever Ji-Yong had walked down the catwalk in the pit you had watched as thousands of different women ran their hands down his chest and torso, the thing that set you over the edge was whenever he had stopped to sing to a girl who had grabbed his hand pressing it to her heart as he sang ‘girlfriend’. You weren’t the jealous type at all, you understood your boyfriend was very very well known and was very well received, but there was something about the way the woman placed his hand on her breasts that were practically hanging out of her shirt that made you wanna scream. You had your composure until after the show though, knowing you’d be able to spend all of the time you wanted with him after he finished, and you were right, as soon as he got done he found you backstage. He smirked as he watched you pace the backstage floor shouting towards his best friend, Seung Hyun “no! Because it was different! I saw it! I’m not crazy, Seung Hyun!” You shouted before your shouts quickly turned into whines as he laughed at your jealousy for a second time, Ji-Yong just walked over, the smirk never leaving his face as he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you close “Princess? What’s this about?” You stood in shock for a moment before turning to face him “that woman! Putting her hands all over you then having you touch her boobs! That looked fake!” You shouted trying to pace again, but your boyfriend just kept a tight hold on you, knowing you’d have your own special words with him later on about the topic.

Whenever you got back to your shared home you kept a knowing glare on Ji-Yong, stuck in your thoughts the entire way home, he was your boyfriend, you were the only one who should be touching him like that unless it’s the boys or a backup dancer, you knew Ji-Yong wouldn’t ever look at another person like how he looks at you, but it still pissed you off. He was your man. You didn’t own him, but you both had a verbal agreement of being committed and reserved for only each other.

Ji-Yong just watched as you stared him down, clearing going through something in your head. He just smiled in amusement crossing his arms waiting until you shifted your gaze to his before making his way to you “Princess, if you have something to say, tell me, I’m all ears” he offered teasingly, you huffed before grabbing his jacket in your hands tightly slamming your lips to his roughly, Ji-Yong kissed back, knowing exactly where this was going, he didn’t really see jealous Y/n often, but whenever he did he was stuck in the bedroom for about a full day, not that he was complaining or anything.

He couldn’t hold back his breathy moan back as you moved your soft lips to his jawline, nipping at his skin slightly as he slid his hands over your ass pulling your hips closer to his as he tilted his head slightly to give you better access to his neck. Now don’t get it wrong, Ji-Yong was not a bottom, he was a switch, it was rare he was a bottom especially with you, it was hard whenever you made him feel so proud, strong and dominant whenever you were underneath him, but the way your lips felt against his skin felt amazing and it was amusing as fuck watching you try and control him around with your jealousy laced actions. As you got to his collarbone you felt his grip tighten on your ass, causing you to become blush against his body, now aware of his muscular torso and the bulge you felt pressing into you, you just ran your hands up his back until they found their way to his hair, tugging softly as you left a line of hickeys across the base of his neck “Every woman who sees you. And wants you. Will know that you already have someone who’s more than enough” you huffed against his skin, Ji-Yong could feel himself become harder with your words, having someone not only know what she wants but confident with it as well? It was driving him crazy along with every other little thing about you. “Will they now?” He teased, you pulled away to look at him, the playful smirk still playing on his lips as he watched you, the only difference is this time his bottom lip was pulled tightly between his teeth. “Yes. They will.” You demanded pushing his jacket off of his shoulders watching him shrug it off, you weren’t sure what was fueling the mess between your legs more, jealousy, or the fact Ji-Yong looked hot as hell during his show and looks even hotter in the living room taking off his clothes.

Seeing his shirt come off you felt yourself getting worked up and angry all over again, some random woman had her hands all over an area that was strictly off limits to any woman other than you, per Ji-Yong’s request. Ji-Yong chuckled watching you start to become angry again, as he leaned forward he grabbed the hem of your shirt tugging it to get your attention before kissing you deeply “princess, if you want to fuck me, you have to stop thinking about it” he whispered against your lips, lifting your shirt slowly to pull it off of you, revealing your lace neon green bra, Ji-Yong’s personal favorite, not only did it match his hair perfectly, but it held your boobs perfectly, showing off just enough cleavage to be hot without your boobs practically hanging out.

“See? These are much more worth my attention” Ji-Yong stated before trailing rough kisses down your neck to the top of your breasts leaving rough bites and hickeys across the top, as he leaned back up to catch your gaze you noticed the small amount of saliva shining off of his bottom lip, you just shook you head “you don’t get to. You let another woman put your hands on her” you stated placing your hands on his bare chest walking him back to your shared bedroom “oh I did?” He questioned playfully, obviously finding everything you were doing amusing rather than serious. “Don’t play stupid, Ji-Yong” You growled, as Ji-Yong sat on the edge of the mattress you were quick to push him back, straddling his waist before you pressed your lips against his again “you’re my pretty boy, mine” you whispered, holding his hands in your possessively, Ji-Yong couldn’t hide the fact he was getting off on you being so controlling and possessive over him. It was new to the both of you, you had never been with somebody famous, especially not G-Dragon level before, and he hadn’t been with someone like you before, someone so laid back but possessive whenever it came to certain things, he liked it, you being possessive always made him feel wanted most times, because why else would you be so determined to show off that he’s yours?

As you rolled your hips against his, grinding your damp underwear over his cock, whimpering as you felt it brush against your clit, Ji-Yong held your hips in his hands moving them to help you grind against him “come on, princess, I thought you were showing me who I belonged to” Your boyfriend teased looking up to you, you were already coming undone on top of him, not realizing how badly you needed him until just now. “S-shut up” you grumbled, smacking his chest before he shot you a warning glare "You started this game, princess, don't you want to play?" He half warned, half teased, you glared at him, not liking the fact he was trying to challenge you, pulling off your underwear you slowly lined his cock up with your entrance, moaning softly as you lowered your hips, feeling yourself stretch around him as he bottomed out inside of you. Ji-Yong's head fall back into the pillows, a breathy moan leaving his lips as he held onto your hips tightly. As you started to roll your hips Ji-Yong couldn't stop himself from smirking as he watched you move, moaning loudly whenever your nails made contact with his chest, leaving red scratch marks behind as you ran your hands down his chest, desperate to leave any and all marks on him "If you don't watch it, I'll go shirtless my next show" Ji-Yong threatened, you shot him a knowing glare, knowing that would get your boyfriend in more than enough trouble with his agency.

As you came around him for the first time Ji-Yong was quick to your lips to his, kissing you deeply as he rolled his hips against yours, helping you ride out your orgasm. Whimpering after a moment, you leaned down to rest your head on Ji-Yong's chest running your hands through his hair "Princess..Are you okay?" His voice was soft as he caressed your hips with his thumb "M-Mhmm.." You hummed, slowly starting to lift your hips before moving them back down once you got composure of yourself again. Ji-Yong huffed, starting to guide your hips again, attempting to speed your movements up, but your hands just found his shoulders digging your nails into them as you moaned softly "Come on, Princess, You wanted to play..are you really going to forfeit?" Your boyfriend teased, you gave him a pout watching as he smirked at you before holding your hips in his hands lifting you up slightly before thrusting his hips up, moving his cock in and out of you as you moaned loudly "It was cute you thought you could out fuck me, princess" Ji-Yong panted as he moved your hips with him, you squealed slightly feeling his cock reach deeper inside of you as Ji-Yong's thrusts became rougher "Let me show you how to fuck the hell out of somebody properly" Ji-Yong whispered in your ear before pulling you down to lay against his chest before he flipped you both to where he was over you.

You swore with every orgasm Ji-Yong pulled from you gave him more stamina, you were sprawled out on the bed, Ji-Yong's head buried between your legs as he curled his tongue inside of you, eating you out like he hadn't had a meal in weeks. Your hands tugged his neon green dyed hair, only driving him to move faster, his hands digging into the inside of your thighs as he held your legs open, moving one hand to your clit, rubbing figure eight motions against it, looking up to see your head thrown back and back arched. Seeing you like this was always a thrill for Ji-Yong, even after being together for almost two years, it was still just as exciting as the first time, it got to a point where he started craving your moans and little noises whenever he'd fuck you or tease you whenever you were out and about running errands. Glancing down to meet his gaze you bit your lip, seeing him between your legs only tightening the knot in your stomach further, you weren't sure exactly how many times you had orgasmed so far, but you knew it was somewhere around five. Lifting his lips away from your pussy, Ji-Yong panted, licking his lips before pulling his bottom lip in between his lips as he smiled at you, moving to hover over you as he lined himself back up with your entrance "Ready, princess?" He whispered, pressing his lips against yours as you nodded, You moaned and whimpered against his lips as he bottomed out inside of you, not taking any time before he started fucking you again, his cock moving in and out of you with a pace you weren't sure if you had ever felt Ji-Yong use, he couldn't help it, watching you come completely undone just for him, all because of his touch and his words was driving him nuts, he swore he could fuck you all day every day as a job if possible.

As you felt that knot in your stomach approaching rather quickly, you grabbed Ji-Yong's arms, his hands gripping the sheet tightly as he slammed his cock into you over and over again, the familiar sound of your headboard hitting the wall echoing through the shared home. "J-Ji!" you whimpered loudly, your legs twitching as they tried to close around his waist, he was quick to pull your body closer to his, burying his cock deep inside of you before rolling his hips, causing you to moan his name loudly as you arched your back, his mouth immediately coming into contact with your nipples, swirling his tongue around them before nipping slightly. You cried out as you came around him for the sixth time that night, as you tightened around him, Ji-Yong's grip faltered, a loud moan followed by whimpers leaving his lips as he came inside of you, grinding his hips against yours slowly as you both rode out your orgasms, his pace starting to pick up again before you whined loudly attempting to push him away "I-Is' too much, J-Ji" You whimpered, offering him a sorry look, you knew he never minded when you tapped out, but it still made you feel bad, after your previous exes they really shaped your mind to certain things, and it was one of the things Ji-Yong was adamant about helping you with, speaking up for yourself and standing your ground after that.

"You're tapping out?" Ji-Yong asked softly, waiting a moment before slowly pulling out, cupping your cheek as he took in your expression, seeing that you were okay he smirked "I fuck you that good, Princess?" He teased, his voice laced with cockiness as you looked at him, your eyelids were droopy as you rested a hand on his chest rolling your eyes "Shut up, asshole" You joked, blushing as Ji-Yong reached over grabbing one of the throw blankets off of your floor that was knocked off during your activities, wrapping it around you before gently pulling you to sit up "Bathroom and shower?" He offered, smiling as you nodded slightly attempting to stand only to stumble into his arm, giving him a harsh glare you huffed "Ji-Yong. If I can't walk tomorrow..." You threatened as he laughed, effortlessly picking you up and helping you into the bathroom.

That's how you ended up sitting in V.I.P staring at your boyfriend in shock, him just giving you a knowing smirk before the boys made their way to center stage as they started to preform. Throughout the show you noticed the boys taking notice to Ji-Yong's body before they all gave you shocked looks one by one, you blushed each time, but Seung Hyun had you wanting to hide your face. As he saw the marks covering his friend's bare chest he stared in shock, Ji-Yong only smirking before glancing in your direction, moving away from his friend to start singing his verse, that's whenever Seung Hyun's eyes met yours, him giving you a shocked expression before mouthing 'damn, girl'. As the part of the chorus to Zutter played, Seung Hyun was quick to look towards a group of women in the front row moaning into the mic playfully, Ji-Yong quick to follow his lead before turning to look in your direction, waiting for his friend to moan again before your boyfriend brought his microphone to his lips moaning softly "Oh, fuck Ji" He moaned softly into the microphone, mimicking every one of his favorites moans of yours as him and his friend played around as the song ended. You face was bright red as they both finished and went back to performing, you didn't ignore the way Ji-Yong ditched his jacket for their performances of Bang Bang Bang and Fantastic Baby. As it approached the end of the show, you watched closely, Ji-Yong, Dae-Sung, and Tae-Yang making their way into the catwalk as they sang their last song of the night. Ji-Yong walked like he was the king of the world, that's what he felt like anyways, not only did he have the most breathtaking amazing girlfriend waiting for him after the show, but he was also wearing your possessive marks all over his chest and back. You watched as Ji-Yong held hands with a few women as he sang before the song ended, you weren't quick to leave your spot though, just watching as your boyfriend proudly walked back on stage, posing with his friends. As Ji-Yong went to turn around he caught your gaze, noticing how amazed you looked, you had your head resting in your hands as you watched him, falling more in love with him with every second that passed.

As you both met back up backstage, you were quick to smack his chest gently "You can't just do that!" You protested motioning to his chest as he slid his hoodie on, setting his leather jacket down on a small cart for a moment as he grabbed your hands "I want to marry you" He stated, catching you by surprise you stumbled back, where the hell did that come from? "W-What?" You asked, looking at him like he grew two heads, through your entire relationship you hadn't spoken about marriage, you were both just having fun and enjoying your time together "I want to marry you, princess" He repeated, stepping closer to you "You're...different from anybody I've ever met, and I want to fully committed" He offered, you gave him a cautious look before furrowing your eyebrows "Are you high or something? I-I just- Where is this coming from?" You rambled, Ji-Yong was quick to cup your cheeks, catching your attention back to him "I'm not high, a little tipsy, but not high, and I just..seeing you tonight..and seeing, hearing, and tasting you last night?..Plus everything in the last two years, I want to fully commit, I want to show you and everybody else that you're my girl for life" He teased, smiling proudly as he watched a smile make it's way onto your face as you giggled softly. "If you're really really sure" You agreed, letting out a huff of air as he hugged you tightly "I'm as sure as you were last night about me being your man" He teased quietly, squeezing your hips as the boys made their way to the area you were both in, laughing loudly "Ji-Yong! Texts are already coming in about you from yg" Tae-Yang laughed as he walked over, making eye contact with you as he smirked "and Damn, Y/n, you really showed Ji-Yong who's boss" He teased causing you to blush and your boyfriend to smirk "She tried to" Your boyfriend replied, causing you to smack his arm and hide your face against his chest blushing brightly "Good! Show those ladies who your man is, y/n" Dae-Sung smirked, giving you a small high five, Seung Hyun just smirking at the both of you raising his eyebrows.

Ji-Yong smiled as he watched you grab his hand tightly as you all walked out towards the car, his free hand using his jacket to try and block your face from the swarming press and fans, Seung Hyun was quick to notice, turning his back to the car to grab the other end of Ji-Yong's jacket shielding you from the hundreds of bright flashes from cameras. As you all filed into the car, and found your seats, Ji-Yong wrapped his arm around your shoulders pressing a kiss to your forehead, excited for the next time you'd be jealous.

--

Hey..Hey lovelies?..You like? Thank you to the amazing mutual who requested this amazing story!! Truly a masterpiece to be able to write! <33

--

Taglist!!

@onyxmango

@ag02212023

@acehasmyheart

@mitchko11

@learninglinesintherainn

@seunghyunwifey

@alexandralibbre

@jajabro

@heartsforseo

@lilou-0401

@maenoakasuna

@ericityyy

@alexandralibbre

@jajabro

@heartsforseo

Again! if I forgot to tag any of you lovelies, please let me know! I'm in the process of getting a list made to where I can just copy and paste usernames since the taglist is growing <3 I just want to make sure everybody who wants to be notified and tagged in my works gets to be <3 so Please let me know!! <333

[tobiosbbyghorl]

you’re upset with sunghoon because of a fight you two had earlier but now he’s on his knees begging for forgiveness (while wearing shorts hehehehe…)

you told him you’ll think about it if he lets you ride his thigh 🤍

🤭🤭🤭I LOVE THIS!! so i made two version🫨🫨

down on my knees

Punished by Pleasure

He was on his knees, hands resting on his thighs, head bowed like he was praying at your altar. Which, in a way, he was.

“Baby, please…” Sunghoon’s voice was low, hoarse with frustration and need, the sharp lines of his cheekbones flushed with regret. His shorts had ridden up just enough to tease the skin you wanted—taut, smooth, pale as milk, muscles flexing every time he shifted in discomfort. You swore he knew what he was doing, but right now? You had the power.

“You said you’d forgive me,” he murmured, eyes flicking up, full of guilt. “Let me make it up to you—”

“You wanna be forgiven?” you cut him off, stepping closer. Your bare feet padded against the floor as you slowly dropped onto his lap, straddling just one of his strong thighs. His breath hitched at the contact—your heat against his skin, the friction already there.

“Then shut up and let me use you.”

His eyes widened—just for a second—before he nodded obediently, lips parted in shock and lust. You rolled your hips forward, gasping at the pressure as his thigh tensed beneath you. Perfect. Just what you needed.

“You looked so pretty begging,” you whispered, grinding down harder, catching the hem of his shorts with your fingers to push them higher. The soft brush of fabric against your bare core had your nerves on fire, your own frustration spilling out with every rock of your hips. “Should’ve done this earlier. Maybe I wouldn’t have stayed mad so long.”

His hands twitched at his sides. “Can I touch—”

“No,” you snapped, breathless. “You don’t get to touch. You get to sit there and take it. Because you,” your pace slowed as you leaned in, dragging your nails across his shoulder, “decided to finish my leftovers. The ones I labeled. With my name. In permanent marker.”

He blinked. “Wait, this is still about the—”

You ground down so hard he choked on a groan. “Shut up, Sunghoon.”

The apology died on his lips as your hips picked up speed again, your slick making it easier, messier, hotter. He wasn’t allowed to speak—but the way his thigh flexed just right, helping you along, said everything you needed.

And yeah—maybe it was just about a stupid sandwich. But now? He was the one melting under you.

“Bet you’ll never touch my food again,” you hissed, tilting his chin up with two fingers. “Not if you want this again.”

He nodded. Hard.

Good boy.

Thighs and Apologies

Sunghoon knelt in front of you, hands resting lightly on your thighs as he looked up, eyes glistening with apology and adoration. His black shirt clung to his frame, sleeves rolled, but your eyes were locked on the way his shorts rode up—exposing the soft, pale skin of his thighs. Strong, yes, but still so smooth. So pretty.

“Y/N…” His voice trembled slightly, barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to upset you. I—I hate fighting with you.”

You exhaled slowly, crossing your arms. “You said something really mean, Hoon.”

He nodded quickly, looking devastated. “I know. I know, baby. Please… let me make it up to you.” He pressed a soft kiss just above your knee, looking at you with that wide-eyed, desperate look you could never resist.

You ran your fingers through his dark hair, tugging gently until he looked up at you again. “Let me ride your thigh,” you said softly, watching his lips part in surprise.

His breath caught. “O-Okay,” he whispered, cheeks turning the slightest pink. He shifted to sit down, legs parted, thighs tensing just slightly as he opened himself for you. You straddled his thigh carefully, pressing your bare skin against his as your fingers cupped his jaw.

The heat was immediate—gentle, pulsing—but not frantic. You leaned forward and kissed him. Slow. Tender. His hands hovered by your waist, not daring to hold you until you placed them there yourself.

“You’re so warm,” you breathed against his lips, rocking your hips slowly. He whined quietly, almost shy, but kissed you back with just as much sweetness—thumb rubbing little circles into your sides.

“I missed you,” he mumbled between kisses, lips brushing yours again and again. “Didn’t like sleeping alone last night…”

Your rhythm stayed soft, sensual, bodies pressed close, his thigh flexing just slightly beneath you with every slow grind. Your hands stayed in his hair, tugging gently when his kisses grew more needy, more open.

“Mmh—baby…” he gasped, breath shuddering as you nibbled on his bottom lip. “Feels so good.”

You smiled, resting your forehead against his. “This is your punishment, remember?”

He nodded with a dazed smile. “I like it.”

You both giggled softly, a quiet bubble of warmth and affection growing between your hips and hearts.

“…You really want to know why I was mad?” you whispered.

He looked up, slightly nervous. “…Yeah?”

You kissed the corner of his mouth, then muttered against his cheek, “Because you kept saying Bae Suzy is ‘cuter than me’ as a joke.”

His eyes widened. “Wait—that’s what this is about?”

You rocked forward again—harder this time.

He groaned, head dropping to your shoulder with a muffled, breathy laugh. “Okay, okay—I take it back. You’re the cutest. Cutest in the whole world.”

You smiled smugly. “That’s better.”

And then you kissed him again. Slowly. Sweetly. While you made a mess all over the thigh he so sweetly offered just for you.

[xxsunoosprincess]

Enhypen’s Favorite Positions (OT6)

How Enhypen likes to fuck you.

pairings: Enhypen legal line x reader

warnings: 18+, minors dni, fem!reader for Jay and Sunghoon, otherwise gender neutral!reader, light spanking, mentions of masturbation, overstim, and roughish sex.

Heeseung’s Favorite Position: Spooning

There is something so intimate about this position, it genuinely makes him feral. Beware anytime y’all are spooning. It doesn’t matter if it’s on the couch, the bed, hell, even during movie night with his band mates: the moment he has your ass pressed back against him he is bricked up. Maybe it’s the size difference? He doesn’t know. All he knows is that during those late nights on tour when he’s is alone in his hotel room, his mind immediately goes to wrapping his arm around your waist as he drives his cock into you from behind!! <3

Jay’s Favorite Position: Lotus

You guys never intentionally end up in this position, but more often than not, it makes its appearance in your night. Pulled into his lap, you can feel his thick cock so so deep! As soon as you throw your head back in pleasure, he’s mouthing at your tits. Sucking, biting, groping, all of the above… you can hardly fault him for the way his hips jerk up and he forces himself deeper. Boob lover Jay agenda in full force. He just loves seeing your face contort in pleasure, so this is perfect for my little romantic.

Jake’s Favorite Position: Reverse Cowgirl

Has Jake ever seen a more beautiful sight than your ass bouncing on his lap? No. Literally never. Doesn’t matter how often he sees it, he lets out a pleased sigh every time. Reclined back against the headboard, hands behind his head. This must be paradise. He loves seeing the handprints he leaves behind on your cheeks. And he’s just so loud! Moaning and whining… ugh how dreamy. He tries to be gentle, he really does, but he can only let you take charge for so long before things take their inevitable course. Rough grip on your waist as he fucks up into you, letting out those pretty moans all the while.

Sunghoon’s Favorite Position: Missionary

I am here to take down the rough dom Sunghoon agenda. This bastard is so soft for you it isn’t funny. Expect tender touches to your face, deep kissing, and some dirty praise while he bullies his cock into you. “Sweet girl takes me so well” type mfer. I’m sure of it. I really do think he is another romantic… still exploring himself and a little shy about it >_< !! He gets a little flustered when you mention try to talk about your sex life with him so be gentle… doesn’t mean he isn’t going to lay the best pipe of your life. I know this might be a controversial take but it’s MY TRUTH.

Sunoo’s Favorite Position: Mating Press

I think Sunoo is another one that is really soft and tender during sex. It’s the skin-to-skin contact, the sloppy kisses, and dry humping that screams “I want you so so bad!!” that gets his cock filling out in his pants (He has the prettiest cock ever but that’s a story for another time). That’s why I chose a mating press for him… when he is rutting into you and you wrap your legs around his waist or he has you near folded in half he has to fight cumming instantly.

Jungwon’s Favorite Position: Cowgirl

Hehehehe this made me smile. Just imagine him squirming and whimpering as you ride him. Actual art. So whiny and needy. Tells you how much he loves you over and over as he moves his hips with yours. Be gentle because he gets pussy drunk soooo easily. Mind goes blank and probably overstimulates both of you until you are both in tears. Loves when you lay on top of him as you catch your breath together, loves taking care of you. Declaring him the king of aftercare.

END.

Author’s note: Just a short lil thing to test formatting on mobile! Hope y’all enjoy. xx - princess

[camficdiner]

1;4] [2;7-14] [3;1-3] [4;2-3]

heyyy babyy! how are you doing?hope you're doing fine,

i don't a lot, i made the worse-best choice of my life and got my nipples piercings..now i can't stop think about Matt with a girlfriend with those..heheheh

love you <3

☕️ cams fic diner — order 122

🍒 thank you: to the girls who spill coffee and own the room. for tall men on their knees and jersey mornings. for rough kisses, nipple piercings, and chaotic first impressions. this one’s yours.

💬 “He likes it bitter”

✨ description & prompts:

character: Matt Rempe

prompt: you accidentally spill coffee all over him + a slow, sleepy morning in his kitchen — wearing only his jersey

type: chaotic meet-cute, rough smut, nipple piercing kink,

🍒🛼✨🧁

You didn’t mean to spill the coffee on him.

You really didn’t.

It’s just—he walked into that downtown bakery like he was trying to make a scene, all six-foot-eight of him with the wind in his hair and the door not even fully shut behind him. And your iced latte? Slipped right out of your hands like gravity stopped working just for him.

“Jesus Christ,” you gasp, already pulling napkins from the counter.

Matt laughs. A big one—deep and shameless. He’s already drenched in oat milk and espresso, but he just leans over the counter and says, “Is this your way of flirting?”

You nearly choke. “You walked into me!”

He shrugs. “You looked like you needed to be humbled.”

You exchange numbers somewhere between the laughter and the apologies. And somehow, later that same night, you’re at his place, half-drunk, buzzing from the chaos of it all, wrapped in one of his hoodies, watching shitty movies on his couch. You don’t fuck. You don’t even kiss. You just fall asleep pressed into his side, the comfort of his heat knocking you out like melatonin.

—

The next morning is slow.

Sunlight through the slats. Bare legs cold against the kitchen tile. One of his jerseys hangs off your body, baggy and weightless, swallowing you whole.

You open a cabinet above the stove and wince.

He notices from the island, still shirtless, hair messy from sleep. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” you say, pulling a mug down. “Just—my tits are sore.”

Matt freezes, spoon halfway to his mouth.

“From what,” he asks. “Me?”

“No, Jesus,” you laugh. “From the piercings.”

His entire body straightens. “Wait. What piercings.”

You tilt your head toward your chest. “The ones currently under this jersey, Rempe.”

He blinks. “You pierced your nipples?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Why, that a problem?”

“Problem?” he says, voice already lower. “Babe, I’m about to fall to my knees.”

He drops the spoon. You swear it bounces.

“Let me see,” he says.

You roll your eyes, but your fingers slip under the hem of the jersey anyway. One quick flash—just enough to show him the healing silver bars through each nipple—and Matt groans like he’s in pain.

“Holy shit. Can I touch?”

You nod. Just barely. But it’s enough.

He’s in front of you a second later. Hands on your waist. Nose brushing your collarbone.

“I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs. “I just wanna taste ‘em.”

You don’t even make it to the bed.

He drops to his knees right there in the kitchen, mouthing up the jersey. His hands spread over your thighs, then your hips, then higher—dragging the fabric up until your chest is exposed.

His eyes stay locked on yours when he licks you.

His tongue moves slow, flat and warm against the metal. He groans like it’s better than anything he’s ever tasted. Like he’s never wanted anything more than this — mouth on your tits, body between your legs, hips already grinding softly against your shin like he can’t help it.

“Matt,” you whisper, clutching his hair. “Fuck—”

He stands, sweeps everything off the island in one motion, and lifts you up onto the countertop like you weigh nothing. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively. He grinds against you, cock hard beneath his boxers.

“You’re so hot like this,” he growls, kissing down your chest again, thumb rolling over your left barbell. “This yours?” he asks. “This pain? This body?”

You nod. Desperate.

And when he finally slides inside — it’s not gentle. Not this time.

It’s deep. Hungry. Borderline messy.

He fucks you right there in the kitchen, rough and breathless, your hands gripping his shoulders while he ruts into you, licking and sucking at your sore nipples like a man starved.

You moan his name over and over again — and he eats it up like dessert.

Afterward, he doesn’t pull out for a while. He just keeps you close, forehead to yours, arms around your waist, jersey bunched at your ribs.

“You spilled coffee on me just to end up in my kitchen like this,” he mutters.

You laugh. “You’re lucky I didn’t pour it down your pants.”

Matt grins. “Next time,” he says. “If I’m lucky.”

[staylovesmiley]

Thoughts on dating hyunlix and telling them you’re pregnant

Hmm I have thoughts alright hehehehe

Sweet sweet hyunlix~ first I think I should go into my thoughts on what dating them would be like since that’s half of this ask mhm mhm

Dating Hyunjin and Felix is like laying down on sheets fresh from the dryer after you just had an everything shower (iykyk) between Hyune’s heavily romantic soul and Felix’s sweet and bubbly one it’s like you are dating an old historical drama love interest and a rom com love interest in the best ways!

I feel like Hyunnie would be very classically romantic as he has stated so many times how much of a romantic he is- like flowers just because, intimate dinners with either you, Felix, or all three of you, leaves you love notes he tucked in your purse before he left in the morning where he knows you will find it when you go to grab an essential item like hand sanitizer or your lip balm. He’s just a silly little lovesick fool~

Lix on the other hand is much more playful I think? He’s very flirty but also a little clumsy with it~ I think he would send you tiktoks and memes in lieu of love notes, but you Lego flowers you could build together over real ones, and his ideal dates are either kicking each others asses in Mario kart or going for an activity like a movie or an arcade! Whereas Hyunjin is classic romance Felix is young and fresh love and they mix together into something wonderful that you feel you could never get tired of~

They also both clearly are physical touch as love language people so I feel like they would never get enough cuddles, kisses, or hugs from you! You would be surrounded by affection of all kinds always and you are completely okay with that (but if you need time for yourself they are respectful and will cling to each other until you are ready to join them again)

Now to the second part of the ask~~

If you were to find out you were pregnant with Hyunlix baby while you were just dating I feel like they would be excited but a little scared- Hyunjin especially I feel would be a little pale at the news at first because he’s such a pabo how is he supposed to raise a baby and teach it things about life?! He is excited and loves the idea of starting a little family with his loves but gosh it’s scary okay?? Even if it’s something you want it’s scary especially since it wasn’t necessarily planned (at least in this scenario that’s what I’m going with-) but once he voices his fears to you and Felix you both reassure him and he relaxes, feeling so nice to have two partners to help and feeling less alone (this drama king- as if he’s the one carrying the baby and giving birth to it istg)

Felix would cry. Hands fucking down. Every time he thinks about it for too long after telling him he tears up with the happiness brimming inside him~ I think he would feel a bit more prepared for a baby than Hyune, even if it’s just because he can be a lil optimistically clueless hehehe he would be daydreaming immediately what life will be like with the four of you (or more- and if he starts thinking about you having multiples that’s when he gets a little nervous but for this scenario there is only one baby so he calms down again after the scans show that)

I’ll leave this as is for now unlike the Minsung one cause I feel like Hyunlix wouldn’t really change much how the treat you during pregnancy than outside of it? They’d be more attentive to you and your needs but they were already so doting the only things that feel specifically “baby/pregnancy” related is maybe Hyune dedicating hours to painting the nursery the closer your due date gets and he is so into it you won’t see him for hours and hours while he is working on it~ and Lix would for sure give your baby bump little fist bumps and talk to it as much as possible so “baby had an aussie accent~” but hey let’s be real he already successfully gave our aussie boy hyunjin an accent so I feel like the baby would also develop one as it grew (especially with the constant Bluey episodes he would put on for them ever since the womb hehehe)

[velvrei]

hiii!! i saw ur robby stuff and i absolutely loved! could you do a robby smut where when the reader has a somewhat of a deeper feminine voice but when she moans, it’s like really high pitched and like several octaves up and robby’s really shocked but then makes it his mission to get her to moan? thank you so much!!

yes i love this HEHEHEH

…

robby had always loved the way you spoke. your voice was smooth, low, the kind that sent shivers down his spine when you leaned in close. it was one of the first things that had drawn him too you: effortless, confident, and completely captivating.

but right now, he was discovering something new, something he hadn’t expected. his lips brushed against your neck, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you closer.

the second his fingers teased over your skin, your breath hitched—and then it happened.

a soft, high-pitched sound slipped past your lips, completely different from the voice he was used to.

he froze for half a second before pulling back just enough to look at you, brows raised. “wait—” his lips twitched. “was that you?” heat rushed to your face as you covered your mouth with your hand.

“shut up,” you muttered, turning away. but robby wasn’t about to let it go.

the surprise in his eyes shifted into something else—something playful, something dangerous. his hands traced down your spine, slow and deliberate. “i just wasn’t expecting that,” he admitted, voice dropping lower. “it’s kinda cute.”

you shot him a glare, but before you could say anything, his fingers tightened at your waist, pulling you against him in just the right way.

another high, breathy sound slipped out before you could stop it. his grin deepened. “oh, yeah,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear. “i wanna hear more of that.” and with the way he moved next, you knew he was going to make sure he did.

his touch grew more deliberate, fingertips grazing just enough to make you shiver.

his lips found that spot on your neck again, the one that always made your breath hitch.

this time, you tried to suppress it, biting your lip hard, but he noticed. of course, he did. “don’t hold back now,” he teased, voice smooth, his breath warm against your skin. “i wanna hear that pretty sound again.”

you shook your head, trying to keep your composure, but then his hands slid lower, pressing you closer, his grip firm but easy, like he had all the time in the world to unravel you. and then—he did something different.

slower, deeper, his lips lingering, his touch light but deliberate, testing, waiting.

another sound escaped you, higher than before, almost desperate, and robby groaned, the sound vibrating against your skin. “there it is,” he muttered, his grip tightening. “thought i was imagining it for a second.”

“you’re the worst,” you breathed, but the words held no bite.

he chuckled, fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns against your skin. “nah,” he whispered, pressing one more lingering kiss just below your ear. “i’m just getting started.”

…

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[everettswritings]

Hi:) II'm back for more! Mabye some Lee! Pure vanilla cookie (again) and ler! White Lily cookie, You can switch the Lee and ler if you want, and if you don't wanna do this, you can leave this request. TYSM

I love the previous fiction I requested.

Glad you loved the last one, I loved writing it haha! Anywho, this is sort of a continuation of the Ler!Pure Vanilla and Lee!White Lily fic I wrote… recently. I’m so bad with time. Enjoy! (Kink/NSFW accounts DNI!)

It was the dawn of another day in the Vanilla Kingdom, the skies were steeped with pinks and oranges and the pearly white buildings seemed to shine in the light of the rising sun. In the library of the castle, two cookies laid asleep on the floor, surrounded by countless open books that they spent the entire evening reading before hand. These two cookies in particular are a couple of the legendary heroes themselves; White Lily Cookie and Pure Vanilla Cookie.

The former slowly opened her ruby eyes, blinking away the sleepiness from staying up so late researching without end. She stared up at the ceiling above, the high ceilings looked as if they were reaching for the stars on the pages of one of the old astronomy journals, and the warmth of the sunrise was creeping in like fuzzy feelings of the heart. She sighed and rubbed her temple, feeling a bit of a headache coming on. Normal scholarly things, amirite? The brains with the most knowledge are the ones that hurt the most- or at least that’s how it felt. She turned to Pure Vanilla Cookie, who was still completely passed out at her side with a piece of paper stuck to his face.

“Hey… Pure Vanilla Cookie, we fell asleep.” She reached over and gently tapped on her friend’s shoulder “Wake up.” She beckoned gently, her voice a little raspy from just awakening herself. However, the old healer didn’t budge. He groaned, sure, but not a single muscle was moved. “Pure Vanilla Cookie…” She continued to pester, trying to wake him up to no avail. White Lily Cookie put a hand to her chin in thought. Yeah, Pure Vanilla Cookie was a heavy sleeper, but wasn’t there always a sure fire way to get him up and moving? She tried to remember, but if you’ve ever tried to remember anything this early you’d know it’s impossible. She yawned, but then it came to her! Ah, how could she ever forget?

Gently, White Lily Cookie began tickling her old friend’s side. Her fingers lazily brushed against his dough, her touch was so light that it was just like a feather’s. Almost immediately, Pure Vanilla Cookie started to laugh tiredly and squirm around a little.

“Hehehehe… hehehe! No, stop. Hahaha!” He started to grow more lively as the tickling against his sides sent that little feeling all throughout his tired body. He flipped over on his back, trying to get White Lily Cookie to stop, but she grinned mischievously and moved her hands to get at his tummy. “You wouldn’t get up.” White Lily Cookie shrugged, deliberately starting to move her hands in circular motions around his tummy, “It’s your fault.” Her grin grew a little as Pure Vanilla Cookie’s laughter grew even more. “Hahahahaha! Hahaha! W-White Lilyhehehe! Hahahaha!” His voice cracked a little, both from giggling so much and from waking up just a few moments ago. White Lily Cookie laid back down beside him, still tickling him.

Pure Vanilla Cookie rolled over again, moving to face White Lily Cookie, but that just gave her another opportunity! He’ll never learn, will he? Her hands moved to his back, going up and down his ribs from behind like little ladder rungs. “Hahaha! Hahahahaha! Heheheha!” Even as the healer tried to protest or ask her to stop, all that kept falling and falling out of his mouth were more and more giggles. He almost instinctively moved closer to her, like he was going to envelop her in a hug. In all honesty, he really did want to hug her. Very seldom did moments like these ever come by; moments of peace and nothing but it. He could smell the lilies that she tended to on her clothes, along with the dirt and grass that came with them, the smell was so earthy and comforting. Even after everything, she was still like a warm home that he could always return to.

“Had enough?” White Lily Cookie finally asked, letting the old man go but keeping her hands on his back. Pure Vanilla Cookie shook his head, a dorky smile on his face, “Never.” He said, failing to consider the consequences of those words. “Oh? Well, in that case!”, suddenly springing up to be more lively, she rolled Pure Vanilla Cookie onto his back again and started to tickle him with a little more vigor. “N-No! Hahahahaha! Hahaha! T-That’s not what I meant! Hahaha!” He started laughing again the moment her fingers started prodding around his ribs again, not even trying to hold back. “Not what you meant?” White Lily Cookie’s voice became ever more teasing “Then what did you mean?” She asked, knowing he wouldn’t be able to respond. “You- hahahaha! Hahaha!” He went to say something, but as expected it didn’t come out in coherent words, “Nohoho! Hahahaha! Hahaha!”.

For what remained of that cozy morning, Pure Vanilla Cookie’s laughter echoed off the walls of the castle’s hallways and the library itself. It wasn’t so bad, though, it’s not like he could ever complain about time spent with White Lily Cookie in this way. If only things didn’t have to change to begin with.

End of fic! I really needed this, I just started my period and I’m so exhausted from having to deal with school and whatnot. Have a good one 🫶