#i was made for chaos and brain mess and doing something with my hands

[jekyllnahyena]

i swear if i had the same level of unhinged readiness to write the needed papers for uni as i do for my small, lil scenes that i write down for characterisation purposes, i'd be fucking unstoppable

instead ive pushed off doing this bullshit till 2 days before and i'm pretty sure my heart is gonna give out in the next 5 hours due to caffeine and redbull

[slytherinslut0]

tom riddle. | everyone has their vices

summary: tom riddle tells you he jerks off (and more) to relieve stress. just….in typical tom fashion.

word count: 2k

tags: 18+, suggestive content, so much tension you’ll choke on it, frustrating subliminal tom riddle (though reader is just as stubborn), flirting, masturbation insinuation, make out sesh.

"But how?”

Tom inhaled sharply, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he prepared to reexplain for what felt like the hundredth time. "Because, the slightest distraction or doubt can result in consequence—as I said previous. A momentary lapse in any of the areas we covered will result in splinching."

You blinked, staring at him like he'd spoken an alternate language. The late night and the relentless focus on Tom's face for the past four hours had blurred everything into a haze and dulled his voice into a monotonous hum, blending with the soft rustle of parchment and the distant lapping of the lake against the window. He could see it—your disconnection, the way his words slipped past you like water through fingers.

He exhaled, slumping back in his chair, a hand raking through his dark hair in frustration. "Should we call it a night?"

"Probably," you muttered, your gaze drifting to the window behind him, the surface of the Black Lake rippling under the moonlight. "You've overloaded my brain. I stopped comprehending two hours ago."

You felt Tom's eyes narrow slightly as he studied you—you must have looked a mess. Strands of hair had fallen out of your ponytail, your uniform shirt was half undone, and there was a dullness in your eyes that spoke of more than just exhaustion. A week bedridden with the flu had set you back, and now, despite Tom's best efforts, you felt like you were drowning.

He knew you were stressed beyond measure—you were normally not like this.

"You need to relax," he said, the words landing with the flatness of an undisputed fact. "You won't retain anything in the state you're in."

"How can I relax when I'm two weeks behind? And exams are next week?" Your voice cracked with the weight of your frustration as you leaned your elbows on his desk, burying your face in your hands. "I'm helpless, Tom. I know you know it."

"Would I be sitting here wasting my time if I thought you were helpless?" He watched you, almost clinical in his intensity as he spoke—tone matter-of-factly, devoid of any false comfort. It cut through your despair with ease. Tom Riddle never did anything without purpose; if he was here, it meant he believed you were worth the effort. "My suggestion is that you reset your brain," he continued, his voice steady like his fingers as he shut the textbook between you. "Take a walk. Have a cold shower. Jump in the lake. Whatever you need to do to decompress."

The simplicity of his suggestions almost made you laugh, but it was the kind of laughter that would easily turn into tears if you let it. Tom had a way of stripping everything down to its most basic form—of cutting through your stress and chaos and presenting you with a simple, unvarnished answer.

You were a mess, and he was telling you to fix it—no coddling, no pity, just a clear-eyed assessment of the situation. And somehow, that was exactly what you needed to hear. You appreciated him for it.

"Decompress, huh. I don't believe I've ever done such a thing." You leaned back in your chair with a lopsided grin, arms crossed. "Is that what you do? Jump in the lake?"

Tom let out a huff, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in what was almost—almost—a smile.

"Something like that."

Interesting—Tom Riddle, always so composed, every inch of him meticulously put together, as if the mere idea of stress was a foreign concept. You couldn't imagine him spiralling, not the way you did—frankly, you couldn't imagine him ever feeling overwhelmed at all.

The curiosity gnawed at you, wondering what he did to unwind—what rituals or habits did the untouchable Tom Riddle indulge in when no one was watching?

"Something else, then?" You pushed it further, gently, your eyebrow arching just slightly.

For a moment, his gaze flickered, something dark and inscrutable passing behind his eyes. You knew he was considering your words, debating whether to indulge your curiosity or keep you at arm's length. Such a fascinating creature he was—all brick walls and boarded windows—you had a feeling he was going to shut this down.

Until, he leaned forward.

"If you're asking if I have habits—I suppose I do," he said, your eyes drawn to the way his lips moved, the way his voice curled around each syllable. "Habitual things I do to—relax, let's say."

You hummed and pulled your lower lip between your teeth as you considered him—fighting to hide your amusement. That was the biggest personal moment you've had out of Tom Riddle since the day you met him in first year where he told you his name.

"Well, isn't that a revelation," you teased, toying with the edge of your skirt. "Just the mere insinuation that Tom Riddle has to do something to relax—as though he's not always cool, calm, and collected like he lets on."

His lips curled slightly at your words, his gaze dipping briefly from your eyes to your mouth, trailing lower in a slow, deliberate sweep that brushed over your chest before landing back on the desk.

Your brain buffered, tingles in the wake of his wrath. He picked up his quill, spinning it idly between his fingers. 

"Everyone has their vices—if they don't, they end up like you," he said, his tone laced with an ambiguity that made you wonder just how deep his ran. "Perhaps it's time you found some."

You scoffed, leaning further back in your chair, the fabric of your shirt pulling tighter across your chest. You forced yourself to ignore the visceral reaction your body had as you caught the brief flicker in Tom’s gaze—the way his eyes darted up to the movement before he quickly masked his expression.

For a moment, you thought you might be imagining things, but the tensing of your thighs betrayed a reaction you couldn't quite shake.

"And what are yours?" You asked after a moment, your voice softer now. Tom Riddle was many things, but he was not a conversationalist—and yet here he was, indulging your curiosity instead of shutting it down. He was humouring you, and you intended to make the most of it. "Decompressing with bland tea and ancient tomes? Sneaking into the Restricted Section when no one's looking?"

“Mm, no.” Tom let out a snort, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips— "I’d say my vices are less...pedestrian, than all that."

The quill in his fingers stilled—the change in his demeanour was subtle, though you felt it in the air—electric, making your pulse quicken. He traced the edge of the feather with the tip of his thumb, the motion slow and deliberate, and you found yourself inexplicably distracted, fighting the urge to shift in your seat.

Why in Merlin's name was that so damn captivating?

"Less pedestrian?" You echoed, curiosity at an all-time-high. "What do you do, then, Tom? Dance naked by the light of the full moon?"

"I should hope not," he laughed—a low, rumbling sound that resonated in the pit of your stomach as you giggled alongside him. The quill twirled again in his fingers, the motion languid, almost hypnotic. "No, I'd say my vices are more...private. Less suited to polite company. Perhaps I should let you guess since the mystery of it seems to fascinate you so."

The look he gave you made you stiffen, a challenge—no, a dare—clear in his deep, dark eyes. Your thighs involuntarily reacted again—less suited to polite company?

"I believe I've already made several guesses," you tried to compose yourself with a shallow inhale. "I'm quite at a loss."

He shook his head, stifling his grin. "Clearly, you lack imagination."

"Clearly, you enjoy being cryptic." You shot back, unable to stifle yours.

At that, he hummed—it was obvious your stubbornness was as entertaining to him as it was aggravating. Perhaps you could say the same. He set the quill down, his eyes on yours as the fingers of his free hand began to tap idly on the desk—and then his gaze dipped again, tracing the curve of your lips before drifting lower, a slow, deliberate path that made you tense.

For a moment, you wondered if the tension in the air was all in your head. Was he always this adventurous with his eyes?

"When the mind is under strain," he began, his voice smooth, clinical, "it's a result of an excessive influx of neural signals. Synapses misfire, disrupting cognitive function. A basic physiological response." He watched your reaction closely, as though gauging the impact of his words. "To address such a state, one must reestablish control over these neural pathways. To be direct, I find the most efficacious methods involve tasks that stimulate the senses without being emotionally or physically taxing. A simple, repetitive action can suffice—something arbitrary enough to encourage the subconscious to lose focus."

You fought the urge to scowl at his change in speech—Tom knew damn-well just how overwhelmed your brain was—and then continued to recite scientific jargon as if it were his full-time occupation.

You’d almost be mad if it weren’t for the fucking words that stuck to the inside of your ears—stimulate, repetitive, lose focus—

"You're a walking textbook, aren't you?" You continued to play it off—you didn't want to make assumptions—you hated the way he danced around the edges of things, never quite saying what he meant. "Be specific."

Tom's grin grew as he leaned in slightly, his fingers stilling on the desk between you. "I find tasks that involve the hands particularly useful. Something that can be repeated in a smooth, steady rhythm, with little conscious thought required. The ability to lose oneself in the pattern is key."

Merlin help you—the atmosphere in his dorm had changed with those words; the air turned viscous, cloying, each breath sticking in your throat like syrup—hands, steady rhythm, lose oneself—the words pulsed with implication, even if it was buried under layers of his typical, infuriating ambiguity.

He was absolutely referring to—no—no assumptions—

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. "So...knitting?"

The words tumbled out, a weak attempt at humour to cut through the tension, but they hung lifeless in the air—as hollow as the chuckle that rumbled from Tom's chest.

His eyes traced over you, lingering in a way that made your skin prickle. "Not exactly."

"Hm. A different kind of needlecraft, perhaps." You shifted in your seat, trying to inject a semblance of nonchalance into your posture.

But you weren't fooling him—you never had—

"How much longer are you going to play coy?" He murmured, the amusement clear from light-years away.

Heat surged up your neck, the flush burning across your cheeks, betraying you—"how much longer are you going to continue holding your tongue?"

Your voice came out sharper than intended, laced with a challenge you barely felt capable of meeting. You and Tom had always been cordial, the slight suggestive comment here and there, mostly from your end. But this—oh, this was different—this was uncharted territory.

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous purr. "Would you prefer I do something else with it?"

Oh, fuck yes you would—

"You're being obtuse," you practically choked out, though the words lacked the bite you intended. "Entirely vague."

"I'm being clear," he countered, his gaze never wavering. "But you're being obstinate—willfully ignorant to my meaning because you refuse to acknowledge it without me saying it outright."

The air between you dissipated—you tried to grasp for a coherent thought, something to regain your footing, but your mind faltered, stumbling over the implications of what he was saying. His eyes never left yours—and you watched them deepen in colour, black pupils eating away the rich brown of his irises, darkening with something that made the room feel unbearably small.

You could feel the heat rising in your body, pooling low in your belly. How did he do this to you? How did he turn you inside out with nothing more than words and that infuriating, knowing smile?

"Tell me," you breathed, hating how desperate the words sounded, "what do you do with your hands, Tom?...how do you use them to relieve...stress?"

The second those words left your lips you realized what was truly happening here—Tom Riddle never did anything without intent—every word, every pause, every smirk, was a thread in a web he was weaving, intricate and inescapable. He'd led you here, gently, subtly, with the barest hint of force, and now that you were caught, you realized that you wanted this.

Needed it.

And it was clear he did too. Otherwise you'd never have gotten to this point—he wanted you to push, to dig deeper—your stomach twisting as you watched Tom wet his lips, but there was no smirk on them this time.

Only something intense—jaw set, eyes focused—

"I think we both know what I do with my hands," he whispered, the double entendre clear in every syllable— "you knew exactly what I was insinuating the moment this started."

Your breath snagged in your throat, a tremor running through your entire body as the warmth pooling in your belly began to spread, sinking lower, threading through every nerve. Your vision narrowed, centering entirely on him—his eyes, the curve of his lips, the way his presence seemed to devour the room, leaving no space for anything else.

And then, you nodded, the movement barely there—a subtle acknowledgment of your understanding.

"Do you touch yourself, Tom?..." the words escaped you, a soft, breathy whisper that you could hardly believe were your own. "Or do you touch someone else?"

For a heartbeat, everything seemed to freeze, suspended in the intensity of those questions.

The world narrowed to the point of his gaze, the sharp line of his jaw—the reality of where you were, what you were doing, almost seemed to blur—trapping you both in a moment that felt surreal, like a scene caught in the still frame of a film. Never—never—had you imagined a conversation like this with Tom Riddle, hardly your acquaintance, the untouchable genius of the school.

And yet here you were, heart pounding, every nerve on fire, and Merlin help you, you were going to wring every drop of this out for as long as you could.

He swallowed, and you watched the movement, entranced. "Depends on my level of stress."

Tom's expression was unreadable—except for the subtle tension in his shoulders as he leaned back, spreading his legs a fraction wider, the fabric of his dress shirt straining against the flex of his biceps—

"...and how stressed are you right now?" You whispered, reckless, without a trace of restraint.

Tom's throat bobbed with another swallow, a gesture so simple yet so charged that it sent your pulse roaring in your ears.

"Quite," he murmured, his voice taut, stretched thin. "The past four hours have been rather taxing—wouldn't you agree?”

A nervous laugh bubbled up, escaping before you could stop it. You tried to steady yourself, drawing in a slow, shaky breath. You had never felt so intensely aroused and frustrated in your life, and you knew, without a bloody doubt, that he was perfectly aware of it.

"Are you trying to imply l'm the cause of your stress?"

"On the contrary," he said, his gaze raking over you, his eyes dark and hungry, as if you were something to be consumed, devoured whole. "I'm saying you've exacerbated it. Though I'll concede a fair share of the responsibility—as it is mine, after all."

"How kind of you," you whispered, voice trembling with the effort to maintain composure. "To admit your own fault in the matter."

"I'm a kind man." His voice was a low purr, the kind that seeped into your bones, making your blood thrum with anticipation. "I like to take responsibility for my shortcomings."

Yes, yes—so very kind—

"Then take it."

The words left your mouth before you could second-guess them, a challenge thrown into the thick, suffocating air between you. The tension was a living thing now, colled tight, ready to snap, turning your insides into a churning mess of want and need.

Tom arched an eyebrow.

"Take it?" He echoed. "And what exactly do you want me to take, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart.

The pet name rolled off his tongue with a casual ease that sent a flush of heat straight to your core— the simple word wielded like a weapon, striking you down with its intimacy. There was no denying the power that name held over you, especially when coming from his lips.

"The responsibility..." you whispered, the words trembling as they left you, barely more than a breath. "…for your..." you hesitated, your eyes locked onto his as you finally said, "…shortcomings."

For a moment, everything hung in the balance—until, oxygen extinct, Tom leaned forward, closing the space between you until he was so close you could feel the heat radiating off him, mingling with your own.

Curse this fucking desk between you.

"My shortcomings," he repeated, his eyes flicking to your lips. "Is that all I should take responsibility for?"

"Are you suggesting..." you leaned in as well, the distance between you shrinking to a breath—your gaze drawn to his own mouth—the plush of it, how bad you wanted to feel it against yours, "...there's something else you wish to take responsibility for?"

Said mouth curled into the faintest hint of a smile and witnessing the shift this close felt dangerously religious—as though you'd experienced something sacred not many have before—part of you knew you did.

"Many things," he whispered, the sound soft as velvet, dangerous as a blade. "The list is long and varied..."

The heat in your body was painful—you had never been this close to him, never felt the full weight of his presence bearing down on you like this. His cologne—faint, rich, and so distinctly Tom—overwhelmed you, the same scent he'd worn since you first met him.

It was infuriating, how everything he did was so subtle, simple—yet so fucking intoxicating, so irresistible.

"...I'm not quite sure where to start." His eyes flicked back to yours.

Every word that fell from his lips was a new form of torture, his dark eyes pinning you in place, searing into you. The heat radiating from his body made you want to retreat, to find air, to find space—but the thought of putting any distance between you was unbearable, the need to be near him overriding everything else.

You'd rather lose consciousness than pull back.

"Why don't you start..." you whispered, tilting your head, your teeth grazing your bottom lip. "By fixing the insatiable ache in my curiosity...the one you created when you mentioned how you use your hands...to relieve stress..."

He exhaled, the sound rumbling from his chest like a growl and you could almost imagine that if he parted his lips, you'd glimpse fangs behind them right now—you'd never seen him like this—his gaze predatory, fucking ravenous, and it was as though he could devour you whole if he so chose to.

But you knew better. Tom Riddle would never be so crude. His methods of torment were deliberate—Methodical. A slow depletion of your senses until you're gasping for something only he can give you.

Then, in a voice that was all gravel and silk, he whispered, "is that all that's aching...your...curiosity?"

"Gods no—"

But you never finished that thought—because in an instant, his hand was tangled in your hair, pulling you forward with a force that sent you careening over the desk and into him—Tom Riddles lips crashed against yours, and it was like drowning, his tongue invading your mouth, stealing your breath and dragging all ounces of your cognitive ability along with it.

You were half out of your chair, caught in the gravity of him, unsure if your legs were even working, or if it was his grip alone that held you upright. His free hand found your wrist, pinning it to the desk as his mouth worked you with a fervour that made your head spin. The kiss was incendiary, a wildfire scorching its way through every nerve in your body, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake—the intensity of it, the sheer, unrelenting pressure of his lips on yours, made you wonder how you survived this long without it.

All the heat in your blood pooled low, deep between your thighs, an ache so profound it threatened to consume you. Tom Riddle was about to show you precisely how he used his hands to relieve stress, and Gods, if that wasn’t the only thing you’d ever needed right now.

[ghosts-bandwagon]

So, could you do task force 141 + König and whomever you’d like, how they would react to you kissing their cheeks as a dare or something? Idk my brain just thought of this

I love this it’s so cute 😭❤️

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

He short circuits honestly

He’s sitting there stuck in place, processing what happened

In the short second your lips made contact with the fabric of his mask, everything in his brain went silent

All the chaos, all the worries, all the voices, everything went silent like coming into the eye of a hurricane, there was peace for a moment

On the outside though? He’s deadpanned 😶

You almost feel like you’re in trouble but then he finally blinks and looks at you, you couldn’t detect any anger or resentment so you beamed at him and went about your merry way

As he’s watching you walk away, that kiss is all he’s thinking about. He’s wondering what it would’ve felt like if he didn’t have the stupid mask on, how soft your lips must be, if it was a little wet or not, he knows the feeling of your lips would be seared there for the rest of his life

He’s thinking about that moment of quiet, that moment of peace, and he’s suddenly questioning himself, almost talking himself up to give it a try, to pursue that peace that you gave him, that peace that he could have with you

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

Don’t think you’re getting away lightly

As soon as your lips made contact with his cheek, his face went red hot and his eyes were glimmering

He looked up at you with a huge grin going from ear to ear

“What’s that for?” He laughed, when you shrugged with a cheeky smile, he melted,

“Dare you to do it again.” He winked,

You stepped in to meet his challenge but before you could even get close, he kissed your cheek instead

Now it’s your turn to be a blushing mess, and Johnny finds that the look suits you quite well

John Price:

He’s been hearing about the date floating around for a while now and brushed it off

At least until you came into his office under the guise of turning in paperwork, when he heard stifled laughter coming from the hallway

You handed him your papers and leaned in to give him a quick peck on the cheek, your lips were so soft as they made contact with his skin, it sent lightning up his spine

He looked at you with disapproval and you felt the cold sweat bead on your forehead

He motions for you to come in close and you do as you’re told, leaning in, bent at the waist, waiting for him to speak. His face was close to your ear, the hairs on his cheek tickling your skin as he leaned in,

“Next time you feel like doing that, don’t hide behind a dare, love.” He sat back with a knowing glint in his eyes, “That’ll be all, sergeant.”

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

Oof sweetheart, he already knows about the dare that’s been circulating on base, he’s been waiting

And then he sees you walking towards him like the cat that got the cream

He already knows and he’s a little smug about it smh

What isn’t prepared for is how his brain fires on all cylinders the moment your lips pressed against his cheek

It was like a jolt of electricity shot straight through him, like something in him came alive

He’s not one to be rendered speechless too often but he’s dumbstruck

He had a plan of pulling you back in so he could return the kiss but he was stuck in place, slack-jawed with his hand slowly coming to rest on the spot you kissed

He’ll get you back eventually, right now he just needs to process what just happened

König:

Error 404. König not found

He appreciated that you didn’t lift his hood so you could kiss him but in that moment he wished it wasn’t there

He felt the warmth of your skin through the fabric and he mourned not feeling the soft skin of your lips against his cheek

It felt like going outside and feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin, breathing the fresh spring air and sitting on a blanket in the park

He started imagining you there, sitting in the park among the flowers, your eyes closed in bliss as you take in the warmth of the sun and breathing the freshness of the air

He wasn’t on an army base in god knows where, he was sitting there in that park with you, mesmerized by your smile, holding your hand in his

He was snapped back to reality when you waved your hand in his face, apologies pouring from your lips

He can barely process the words as he leans in and repeats the action, pressing his clothed lips against your cheek

He can’t help the satisfaction when he sees you short circuiting as much as he was

[darlingghoulette]

blame the “hitting on your mom as a punishment” tiktok i just saw that literally blew my brain up. established because they’re disgustingly in love and because i say so

Eddie would normally consider himself pretty immune to the roar of arguing teenagers. Chaos surrounds their little Party. They’re not a quiet bunch when all together. It’s all shoving and yelling, giggling and roughhousing. Carpet-burned battle scars from the floor of Steve’s living room.

Lord knows Eddie himself wasn’t an inside-voice kind of person. He was certainly wont to standing on coffee tables and screeching demands for the remote when it was unjustly stolen away by villainous hands.

Eddie loved these people to death, and they were a lot of fucking fun to hang out with, it’s just this...this was an unreal level of noise. A normal sleepover night turned a little too rowdy, the adolescents celebrating the start of Summer with a bang.

Steve had already asked them to keep it down four times this evening. Nothing seemed to calm them. Not requests. Not threats of being sent home. Usually their Dungeon Master threatening their characters’ souls did the trick, but no go. 

Getting teenagers to listen? A feat more impossible than defeating creatures from an alternate universe. 

Dustin and Erica were in a bitching match about the best D&D class. Lucas and Mike had been fighting over movie choices for the last half hour. Eddie’s money was on the VHS player breaking before that, the constant mishandling and shoving of tapes had the poor thing practically smoking.

Will, ever the diplomat, was trying to be an impartial party when asked his movie opinions. Which, of course, caused more yelling. 

Max and El had been the only ones being semi-quiet, but that quickly ended when they followed through on their surprise attack pillow fight, pummeling the boys senseless and causing the already unbearable volume to kick into overdrive. Eddie could practically feel Steve’s migraine building, even from where the dude had retreated to the kitchen. Dinner had been pizza. Quick. Easy. Clean. Or, it would have been if it hadn’t had been for the food fight. Steve was still in there scrubbing cheese out of his parents’ tiled backsplash. Dishes clattered in the distance when the cacophony hit its crescendo. 

It was the proverbial straw. 

“Alright, that’s it! Hey. Come on, guys. Knock it off,”

Nothing. 

“HEY!”

He maybe overdid it that time, but the absolute ear-splitting boom of a yell he let out stopped the ruckus dead. 

Silence rang for a beat.

Huh. Maybe Eddie should try out incorporating that into his music. He honestly hadn’t known he could get to that range. 

The teenagers in the room stared at him, not cowed in the slightest, but curious enough to know what the hell Eddie’s problem was. Max was the first one to quirk an eyebrow at him.  “Geez, need attention much?” 

Eddie folded his arms to show he meant business. “Steve has asked you guys to tone it down. You’re waking the fucking dead. Why don’t you guys, like, actually go be good human beings and help him clean up your mess you all made in the kitchen, huh?” 

Lucas snorted. “Yeah, okay, mom. Why don’t you go help him, you guys will probably just make out in there, anyway.” 

It was a teasing comment. Meant to jokingly rib before getting back to doing whatever the hell they wanted to do.

But, see. That just gave him an idea. 

Never let it be said Eddie couldn’t be creative with his punishments. He was a DM after all. 

“Alllllllright. New plan. Listen up or suffer, ankle biters,” 

He really didn’t appreciate the snickers that brought about when he was trying to be intimidating. Rude. 

“You going to send us to our room or something? I’m real scared,” Erica’s scathing, dry wit was unparalleled, truly. 

“Nope. Better. It’s a new rule: You little shitheads give me attitude and don’t listen, I hit on your babysitter.”

It was silent for a minute, brains audibly computing that statement and coming up ERROR. Will hesitantly spoke up. 

“Uh, Eddie, I really don’t think that’s--”

“Yeah, what the fuck?” Mike interrupted. “Why would you beating up Steve hurt us? I mean, like, I guess it would emotionally, but that’s fucked up, man.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, still smirking wickedly as his plan solidified.  “Oh, I don’t mean that kind of hitting, young Wheeler. Though, it may yet get physical--Hey, Steve?” He called out. The sink in the kitchen shut off after a second.

“Yeah?” 

“Can you come here?” 

The kids shuffled around on the floor warily as the other man walked into the living room. The energy had obviously shifted, it was probably an odd vibe to walk in to, but Eddie cut Steve off before he could ask any questions.

“You tired?”

“Uh, no. I’m fine--”

“It’s just you just keep on runnin’ through my mind constantly. I figured you’d be exhausted, sweetheart,” Eddie purred, the words cloyingly sweet and full of exaggerated charm. 

There was a countdown, three, two, one...

A collective groan let out. A few uncomfortable laughs.  “Dude, what the hell?” 

“You guys agreed not to be gross in front of us!”

“Oh, my god, can I actually get sick from how cheesy that was?” 

Eddie had to work at keeping in character when his very first line had pulled the intended reaction. He was already reaching forward to curl an arm around Steve, pulling him in in a slow, sultry attempt at being smooth. 

“What? Can’t I be sweet on my guy? You all will understand when you’re in love one day. Right, sugar?” 

Fake gags and retching sounds, too dramatic to be real protests, but still indignant and annoyed. Eddie was pretty sure Dustin slapped a hand over his eyes.

“Uh...yes?” Steve, who had previously looked like a car accident had happened directly in front of him, was catching on to the play. He eyed the disgruntled floor-children with a growing grin and let Eddie snuggle up to him.

God, his baby was so clever. He always knew what Eddie was thinking. 

Too busy having a non-verbal conversation with Steve on how to best annoy the kids, Eddie didn’t see Mike turning his attention back to the tv. He did, however, hear him telling the others to “Just ignore them, they’ll get all gushy and leave us alone.” 

Oh, Michael, Michael. Wrong move. 

“How you doing, babygirl?” Steve flushed, deep and red and--huh. Okay. Revisiting that one in the future. “You good? You need anything? Your head hurting, sweet thing? I can kiss it better,”  Eddie ducked forward to kiss Steve’s cheek. It was chaste, a sweet little thing...that Eddie made infinitely worse by the smacking, obnoxious kissy sounds he emulated there. The chorus of groans and protests started up again. He didn’t even pull his face away to call over to them. 

“I’m sorry, is that attitude? Am I hearing more attitude?”

“Dude, Eddie, noooo!” 

“Jesus, it’s like watching your parents make out, oh my god.” 

“You guys, let’s just go already,” 

“Yeah, I’ll take washing dishes over this,” 

The grossed out teenagers whooshed past them. Grumbling and glaring--except Eleven, who smiled up at them sweetly--leaving Steve and Eddie standing in the living room, still wrapped up together. 

It was too tempting then, with the kids safely out of range, for Eddie to resist the temptation to drop his kisses a little lower down Steve’s neck. To let them get a little less chaste. Just a little.

What can he say? He’s a weak man. 

“That was evil,” Steve hummed. His shoulders dropped, though, relaxing into Eddie’s hold, the closest thing they’ve had to quiet all night settling in. 

“Hey, I accomplished two things. Got them to chill out and I get the perk of feeling you up in the middle of sleepover night. It’s a win-win.” 

A crash and a muffled argument broke out in the kitchen before Steve could respond to that. 

The audible scuffling was cut off by Eddie calling out “Your ass looks great in these jeans tonight, Harrington!” 

The fierce whispers and shushing were enough to get both of the older boys cackling loudly. 

[steddielations]

Steve walks into utter chaos.

He was stopping by just to see Max, but all the increasingly concerning noise coming from the Munson’s trailer drew him over there instead. Worried that all the cursing and clattering would drown out any chance of a knock being heard, Steve lets himself in. 

Eddie doesn’t even notice him come inside, too busy scrambling around the complete wreck of a kitchen.

“Dude, are you cooking or just banging pots and pans together? I thought you were dying in here.”

Eddie squawks and jumps about a foot in the air. His hair is even more disheveled than usual, barely tied down with a bandana. He’s got flour splotches on his face and all over the frilly grandma apron he’s wearing (which Steve is definitely getting a photo of and showing Dustin later) along with a suspiciously sticky goo on his fingers.

“Stop laughing at me,” Eddie groans. 

“I’m not laughing,” Steve laughs, going to join him in the kitchen, “What are you doing, man?” 

“Well, I’m trying to bake Wayne a cake, but at this point, I might as well give him a frosting covered rock for his birthday,” Eddie sighs, frustrated hands scrubbing the flour off his apron, “I don’t know, man, usually I just get him another mug and a pack of smokes, and he’s never asked me for anything, but I’ve put him through hell this year I just wanted— I don’t know like, to do something special but I can’t even—”

“Alright, take it off.”

Steve folds his arms and waits while Eddie just gawks at him for a moment, cheeks reddening under the patches of flour.

“What?”

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

Eddie scoffs, starts muttering like he does when he’s nervous and Steve cracks a smile when he realizes why.

“The apron, Eddie,” he gestures, “Hand it over.” 

Another moment of confused staring and Eddie slowly gives it to him.

Steve wastes no time shaking out the flour and tying it around himself. He moves past Eddie, gets right to work clearing the mess and salvaging what ingredients he can.

“You…” Eddie peeks over Steve’s shoulder, “You know how to bake?”

“I can make a cake,” Steve shrugs, “Robin obsesses over shit sometimes, calls them her “little brain worms” or whatever. She couldn’t stop thinking about this cake she swore she had for her 5th birthday but couldn’t remember the flavor. So we made every cake recipe in her mom’s cookbook until we found the right one.”

“So Harrington’s got a secret Betty Crocker power-up, impressive.”

“Nah, just small stuff. I help Claudia with Dustin’s birthday cakes. Little shit is very particular about his red velvet.” 

Eddie snorts and Steve waves him over to start washing the dishes. He does so with a small salute that smears more flour on his forehead. The word cute comes to Steve’s mind but he just rolls his eyes. 

“So you dusted off your oven mitts for little old me, hm? I’m flattered.”

“Only because I like Wayne and I’d prefer if you didn’t give him food poisoning,” Steve teases, dumping out Eddie’s abomination of batter into the trash. Though he softens when he sees the way Eddie winces at it. “And I think it’s nice, you know, you doing this for him. I wanna help.”

Eddie clearly holds back a smile, looking down at the bubbles in the sink, and the cute word comes back to Steve’s mind.

“Okay well, take it easy on me. Not everyone has a bunch of mom friends teaching them to bake.” 

“Oh yeah, then where’d you get this grandma apron? You just had this little number in the closet with your leather and chains?”

“No, it’s Mrs. Bennet’s and she’s not my friend,” Eddie bristles and Steve senses a hell of a backstory there, “I stole it off her clothesline.” 

Steve laughs and makes Eddie tell him the whole story, all the inner workings of Forest Hills feuds. It’s nice, Steve’s been spending more time here since everything, listening to Eddie’s stories and sharing his own. It’s easy to be around Eddie, even though that pesky word won’t get out of Steve’s head.

Once the batter is finished, Steve dips a finger in to test.

“How does it taste?” Eddie asks, “Better than mine I hope.”

Steve hums around his finger, “So good, here taste,” he meant to slide Eddie the bowl, but the wires must’ve gotten crossed somewhere, because now he’s holding out a dollop of cake batter on the tip of his finger to Eddie’s mouth. 

They both look down at it, then at each other again. Steve knows he should apologize, drop his hand and say it was a mistake but there’s something about the way Eddie’s looking at him, the way he subtly licks his lips is almost like— He wants this. 

So Steve lets him have it.

Eddie leans in, keeps his hands at his sides and slowly guides himself down on Steve’s finger. His eyes fall shut as his mouth closes around it, like it’s too much, watching Steve watching him. It’s a lot for Steve too, the wet warmth of Eddie’s mouth, one swirl of his tongue almost makes Steve’s knees buckle. 

Something comes over him, he presses his finger down just slightly, feeling Eddie’s tongue curl around the tip. It elicits a soft noise from Eddie that sends heat thrumming all through Steve. Eddie’s eyes flutter open, brows turned upwards and mouth in a plush little O around Steve’s finger, looking up at him through dark lashes, a dot of flour on his nose. The sight makes Steve’s breath catch in his throat. It’s fucking cute and hot.

Steve has to swallow his own noise when Eddie pulls off. 

“Yeah,” he breathes out, a slight grin on his lips, “Really good.” 

Steve’s about to do something crazy, put his finger back in Eddie’s mouth, maybe more than one this time, or just his lips on Eddie's, maybe even slip his tongue inside instead of his fingers, lick all that sweetness away until he just tastes Eddie, something— but a sudden loud knock on the door has him dropping his hand like it’s made of cement.

It’s Max, wanting to know why Steve ditched her for Eddie. She comes inside to ‘help’ which means she leans against the counter, talks about her day, complains, teases Steve and makes fun of Eddie for being demoted to dish duty. 

Steve puts the cake in the oven and focuses on cleaning and composing himself. He can feel Eddie trying to meet his gaze, trying to see if Steve's going to freak out on him after that. Once Steve can look at him without feeling like he’s going to burst into flames, he gives Eddie a small reassuring smile, even throws him a wink when Max isn’t looking. Eddie gives him a smile back.

And later, after Wayne comes home and they sing happy birthday and eat the cake that Steve insists Eddie helped him with— Just the tasting part, Steve says and revels in how Eddie covers a blush with his hair— and after they walk Max home, Steve pulls Eddie behind the trailer and kisses him until he doesn’t taste like cake anymore.

for the prompts "You heard me. Take. It. Off." and "Stop laughing at me" for @highkingpenny and anon, thank you and I hope you enjoy this!!

[talaok]

The Mask

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You ask your husband Joel to buy a Ghostface mask to wear during your "alone time", and he’s more than happy to comply

Warnings: smut| mask kink, sir kink, degradation, threats of anal (but no actual anal), unprotected p in v sex, choking, Joel has a bit too much fun fulfilling your fantasy... but then also aftercare and soft husband!Joel cause ill always go back to my fluffy roots (also i don't specify it but obv they've talked about all their boundaries and everything, so they know each other's limits)

It had been such a stressful day that the last thing you had in mind was what had happened yesterday.

With Sarah wanting to change costume last minute because apparently she now hated the idea of being a princess and wanted to be a witch, with Molly's helicopter of a mom constantly calling you to make sure your daughter wouldn't get to the sleepover with lice or carrying a snack that god forbid had gluten in it... it had been such a hectic day that, once Joel finally managed to ride Sarah to her Halloween sleepover, all you wanted to do was lie in bed and hide under the covers... which is what you did...for twenty minutes, before you surrendered to the inevitable task of cleaning up the mess you'd made on the vanity from doing Sarah's makeup.

And it was then, as you were huffing and sighing loudly into what you thought was an empty house, that a figure appeared behind you, making your body run cold with fear, and your heart start to beat out of your chest.

You remained immobilized, frozen in your spot, watching from the mirror as the figure approached, backing away from where he was leaning on the door to walk towards you slowly...

And then you got it, your brain recovered from the scare and you pieced it together.

Such a quick conversation, such a quick decision you'd made as you shopped for Sarah's costume, that in all the chaos, it had managed to slip your mind.

"Ghostface?" he'd frowned once you handed him the mask "I don't think Sarah's even old enough to watch that movie"

And at that you had smiled, looking up at him with that devilish smile you got whenever you got a special idea.

"it's not for her"

his brows knitted in puzzlement again

God, for being such a smart man he sure was dense sometimes

"You wanna dress up too sweetheart?" he asked, making you inevitably snort.

"No" you'd laughed "it's for you"

"for me? what would I need to put this on f-"

And that was when he got it, watching you bite your bottom lip, as that particular spark lighted your eyes, then, he finally put it together.

"ohhh" he he breathed, a smirk making its way to his lips as soon as he realized "Oh yeah, we're definitely buying this"

And that's how you ended up here, watching your masked husband grab your waist to host you up so you were flashed against him, against his tight black t-shirt and black jeans.

You couldn't feel his breath, but you could hear him breathe heavily beside your neck, right against your ear, looking at you from the mirror and studying you as if you were a pray.

Now this wasn't the first time you'd asked him to do something... kinkier, you had made him buy a blindfold, you had your fair amount of toys locked in your bedside drawer, and you were sure some rope and one of those little leather whips you'd purchased once were still somewhere in your wardrobe, but this, the dressing up, the putting on a mask... this, you'd never done, this was all new...

And god were you excited.

"so..." he spoke, his voice huskier than usual, a giveaway of just how much he was enjoying this too already "You've got a boyfriend?"

Now if he got to play the part, so wanted you. 

What fun would this be otherwise?

"I've got a husband" you murmured, your voice faint, seemingly scared.

"mh..." he hummed, his head tilting downwards as if he was looking at you up and down "Lucky husband"

You wanted to say something, anything, but before you could even breathe he had turned you around, his strong, veiny hands gripping your waist.

"P-please" you shut your eyes "Please don't hurt me Mr. Ghostface"

A faint chuckle came from beside the mask

"It's sir" he corrected

Oh he knew you so fucking well

"I-I'm sorry... sir" you whimpered, trying to get used to not getting to look into his hazel eyes, but instead into two big black holes. 

"A-are you gonna hurt me, sir?"

His thick fingers caressed your sides, as he took his time answering you

"no" he finally said "Not if you behave" he explained, his grip tightening, a simple gesture, a simple threat "Are you gonna behave y/n?"

"y-yes" you nodded, actually believing it now, actually losing yourself in the fantasy.

He didn't need to say anything, all he did was tilt his head, and you had realized your mistake.

"yes, sir"

"good girl"

Just two words, and your panties were drenched.

He didn't speak, all he did was break away from you to walk backward until he could sit on the edge of the bed, watching you expectantly.

"go on"

that's all he said, and fuck but that's all you needed.

Your eyes remained on him as you took off every piece of your clothing. You started softly tugging your shirt off, listening to his breathing falter, then you got rid of your pants, then it was time to undo your bra, and then finally, finally you were shuffling your panties down your legs just to step out of them.

A whispered groan fled his lips at the sight, and he couldn't help but stand up to meet you.

His right palm landed on your asscheeks before you even realized what was happening, and a soft whimper escaped your throat in response

"real lucky husband" he growled

An hour ago, you were trying his daughter's Halloween costume on her in this exact room, and now there you were, naked, in front of your masked husband.

"please sir" you pleaded

"What?" he hushed "What do you want?"

He was slowly rounding you, bringing a hand around your torso with him, sending shivers everywhere they could be

"I-I"

"I want to hear you say it" he purred, right against your ear now "I want to hear you beg for my cock, beg for me to fuck you, I know you want it"

"I- Sir, I-"

"I want you to admit just how much of a slut you are" he murmured, now in front of you "I want you to admit just how much you want it"

“Please Sir-i need you”

“Mhh” he hummed, “what do you need?”

His left hand started a slow path down your belly, igniting shivers with his touch, until he was right there, and all he did was cup your pussy and he broke you completely

“You, I-inside of me” you whimpered

"is that right?" he taunted, tilting his head

"yes" you nodded "yes, please sir-"

But once again, he had turned you around like a doll, powerless to his strength, and stole your words from your tongue.

The table rutted from the impact once he pushed your back down on it, your head almost hitting the hardwood.

"Is this what you want?" 

His rough jeans and hard bulge were flashed against your bare ass, making you squirm.

"answer me" he demanded, gripping your hair to yank your head back so you could look at him from the mirror "I asked you a question"

"yes" you murmured "Yes please"

A snicker made its way to your ears as you heard the familiar sound of his zipper undoing.

"aren't you the little whore..." he growled, his insult only rendering you all the more desperate as he slapped his cock on your asscheeks "You'd let me put it anywhere I want?" he mocked, his tip infiltrating between your crack and probing at your other entrance "even in this pretty little hole?"

You gasped.

"I bet you would" he teased "I bet you'd let me do anything I want with you" his head tilted to the left, watching you biting your lip as you tried to keep a straight face, and failing miserably "you're just a poor slut that's desperate to be filled, you don't care in which hole, do you?" he asked now, "answer me"

"y-yes" you stuttered "I-I'm a slut, I'll take anything you'll give me sir, just please-"

"please what?"

"please put it in"

you couldn't see the smirk on his lips, but you sure as hell could hear it.

"Since you asked so nicely..."

And it was then, it was then that he trusted his whole length and girth inside of you with one single push, making you cry out into the thick air and forcing the whole table to shake just for him to not even wait a second, he didn't give you a moment to breathe, a moment to recover, no, he did the opposite... he started splitting you in fucking half.

All the remaining makeup on the vanity was tumbling down onto the floor one by one, but he didn't show signs of slowing down, or god forbid stopping.

The sound of his skin slapping with yours bounced off the walls with each merciless thrust, and you... you were fucking gone.

"look at that" his grip on your hair tightened as he forced your head back even more "I want you to see how much you like this" he groaned, his digits on your waist definitely leaving marks "How much of a slut you are" he spoke "how much you enjoy getting fucked by a stranger"

You wanted to say something, anything really, but as you watched your reflection, your eyes spilling tears, your cheeks wet and your mascara smudged all over... all your mouth could produce were moans, or whimpers, or curses not even belonging to the English language each time his dick hit that spot inside of you that made you want to scream.

"Look at that" Your scalp hurt as he fisted your hair more "Look at how fucking pathetic you look" he spit as you gasped for air and as you felt your belly tighten in that way it did before your release.

"you're gonna cum already?" he realized, his tone mocking "The slut likes it so much she's not even gonna last a minute?"

"Mh-mh" you hummed, "y-yes, I-it's too..." Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you gripped the edge of the table until your knuckles went white as the orgasm unexpectantly overtook your whole body, only letting you moan out a "good" before you were back to a non-verbal state and cried in pleasure.

He let you ride out your high, but as soon as you came down he had manhandled you and threw you on the bed back down, not even giving you a moment to realize what was happening before he had slipped his cock inside you again.

His hand took hold of your arms and pinned them above your head as you arched your back at the feeling of this new angle. It wasn't as deep but the way his pelvis rutted against your clit with each movement of his hips, made it all just as breathtaking, and speaking of which...

His other hand sneaked up your chest, diverting a moment to grab at your boobs before he was wrapping his fingers around your throat, first gently and then applying more and more pressure, until you were completely in a sensory overload and all you could feel was pleasure in its purest form.

"fuck-look at that, you're so desperate for this cock that your pussy's sucking me back in"

He taunted, his thrusts remaining as unforgiving as ever. 

you had lost all touch with reality, this wasn't your husband, this wasn't you, this wasn't your bedroom this was- you didn't even know what it was, you just knew your brain had stopped working long ago, and you were on the verge of another mindblowing orgasm

"what would your husband think seeing you like this?" he purred as he forced your head to the mirror again, and this time, the image you were met with was only more of a mess, your cheeks red, your mascara nonexistent, and your mouth parted, desperately looking for air that it wasn't gonna find any time soon...

"drunk on another man's cock" he continued, his grip on your neck tightening to the point you were seeing black dots staining your vision "Not even able to speak anymore" he groaned "Look at yourself... such a fucking whore"

And then inevitably, as fucked up as that may be, those words sent you over the edge, your legs shaking and your walls tightening around him as you moaned louder than you'd ever had.

And at the feeling you were granting him, he couldn't help but follow suit, filling you up with a loud groan, until his juices and yours mixed as they ran down your thighs.

It took more than a moment for either of you to get back to reality, but as always, Joel managed to beat you to it, pulling out of you and taking his mask off, revealing his flushed and fucked out state as he whispered a low "fuck"

"sweetheart?" he called, stroking your cheek once you wouldn't open your eyes "Are you ok?" he asked "Did I go too far?"

"n-no" you murmured almost inaudibly as you shook your head "You were... perfect, I'm just" a yawn interrupted your words

Tired. 

he didn't need you to finish the sentence, all he did was pick you up and place you softly on your side of the bed, positioning your head gently on the pillow

"stay here, I'll clean you up"

As if there was any chance you'd get out of bed after that

And he did, he cleaned you between your thighs with a wet cloth, gave you a tall glass of water to drink, and then set you under the covers just to join you a moment later, watching you crawl closer to him until each part of your body was touching one of his.

"Better?" he asked, petting your hair as you looked up at him with your head on his chest 

"yes" you smiled "Thank you"

he stroked your back as he leaned down to kiss you "I love you" he promised

"I love you" you vowed back

He smiled too now as he leaned back on the headboard

"you wanna watch something?"

"sure"

"mhh" he hummed, pointing the remote at the tv "Got anything in mind?"

And there it was again, that dangerous dangerous grin

"How about Scream?"

[fgumi]

ꕥ ketchup; — jay drabble, wc: 887, genre: humor, fluff

it was supposed to be just another day hanging out with jay—like always. you were best friends, inseparable since you’d met. he’d always been the one to tease you, make fun of your clumsy moments, and complain whenever you dragged him shopping. it was the same routine. or so you thought.

but something was off today. a strange, unspoken tension hung in the air, one you were definitely not prepared for.

“are you seriously buying another hoodie?” jay asked, holding up the plain black hoodie you had just picked out at the store. “you have like, fifty of these.”

“i do not!” you protested, snatching the hoodie from him and holding it defensively. “i need variety.”

“right. ‘variety,’” jay mimicked, rolling his eyes but chuckling. “you know, one day, your closet is just going to be a sea of hoodies and i’ll have to rescue you from it.”

you laughed, pushing his shoulder playfully. “you’re exaggerating.”

he laughed too, but then, out of nowhere, you caught him staring at you. really staring. his usual smirk was gone, replaced by something softer, something… different. your heart did a weird flip, and you blinked at him, confused.

“what?” you asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “do i have something on my face?”

jay snapped out of his daze, blinking rapidly and shaking his head. “n-no, nothing. you’re good.”

he said it too quickly. suspiciously quick. you narrowed your eyes at him, but before you could press further, he grabbed your arm and dragged you toward the next aisle.

“come on, let’s finish up before you bankrupt yourself,” he said, his voice almost nervous.

later, when you both decided to grab something to eat, the weird tension hadn’t gone away. you were seated across from each other at the diner, laughing about a funny meme you’d seen, when suddenly, out of nowhere, jay reached across the table and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. it was such a simple gesture, but it sent your brain into complete chaos.

you froze, your eyes wide. “uh… what are you doing?”

jay, equally frozen, blinked like he had no idea what just happened either. “i—I don’t know.”

you both stared at each other in silence for a beat, the moment feeling oddly charged. then, the realization hit you like a freight train.

oh no.

did you… like jay?

suddenly, your entire dynamic felt different, like the world had shifted, and now you couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that his hand had just brushed against your cheek. and how nice it felt.

“are we…” you started, not even knowing where to begin with that sentence. “is this… weird?”

jay blinked, looking equally panicked. “i—uh, no? i don’t know. maybe?”

the two of you sat there in awkward silence, both of you clearly trying to process what the heck was happening. the food came, but neither of you made a move to eat.

and then, chaos struck.

jay, in his anxious state, reached for the ketchup bottle a little too aggressively. the cap wasn’t screwed on properly, and the next thing you knew, ketchup exploded all over the table—and on you.

you gasped, staring at your now ketchup-stained shirt. jay’s eyes widened in horror.

“oh my god,” he whispered, completely mortified. “i—I didn’t mean to—”

you burst out laughing. the absurdity of the situation, the chaos of the moment, and the strange tension between you suddenly felt too much, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

jay, still wide-eyed, looked at you like you’d lost your mind. “are you… laughing?”

“y-yes,” you choked out, trying to wipe ketchup off your face. “this is just—this whole day is a mess!”

he blinked, and then, to your surprise, he started laughing too. hard. the tension broke, and soon, the two of you were doubled over, laughing so hard you could barely breathe.

when you finally managed to calm down, jay glanced over at you, his expression softening as he wiped a tear from his eye. “you know, even covered in ketchup, you’re kind of cute.”

your heart did another flip, but this time, it felt… nice. comfortable. like this was where you were supposed to be.

“and you,” you said, grinning at him, “are a complete disaster. but i guess i kind of like that about you.”

jay’s grin grew wider, his eyes sparkling. “oh? you like me, huh?”

your face flushed, realizing what you’d just said, but instead of denying it, you shrugged, feeling bold. “maybe i do.”

jay leaned across the table, still grinning but now with a softer expression. “good. because i think i’ve liked you for a while now.”

your heart raced, but this time, you didn’t feel the need to run from the chaos. you smiled, leaning in closer to meet him halfway. “well, mr. hoodie critic, what are we going to do about it?”

jay smirked, reaching for your hand and lacing his fingers with yours. “i don’t know. but i’m pretty sure whatever it is, it’s going to be a disaster—and i’m here for it.”

you laughed again, shaking your head. “perfect. as long as you bring the ketchup.”

he laughed, and just like that, the world felt right again—messy, chaotic, but full of the kind of energy that only came with realizing that you’d fallen for your best friend.

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments are appreciated! ✧ !nanamlist

[writingduhh]

Would love to see a Fake Dating trope with Schlatt if you want 👀

This trope has been rotting my brain 😮‍💨

YES I LOVE ITTTT! Sorry for the mega mega delay

Jschlatt || The Perfect Scam

Summary: When you need a date to your cousin's wedding, your best friend Schlatt suggests the perfect plan: fake dating. But what starts as a convenient arrangement soon spirals into something more. (fem reader)

You had never been more desperate for a date in your life. Your cousin’s wedding was this weekend, and the idea of showing up alone while your ex flaunted their new relationship made you want to hurl. Unfortunately, every attempt to find a plus-one had failed miserably, leaving you with only one option: suffer through it or... well, you didn’t know what else.

Schlatt, your best friend, wasn’t much help either. He was leaning back in his chair, sipping a beer with a lazy grin as you ranted about your predicament. “You could always just tell everyone you’re happily single,” he suggested with a shrug.

You groaned, throwing your hands in the air. “They’ll never believe that. My family is obsessed with relationships! It’s bad enough they’re already convinced I’ll die alone.

Schlatt chuckled, the sound rich and amused. “What you need is a fake boyfriend,” he said, his tone dripping with mischief. “Someone who can make your ex jealous and shut up your nosy relatives all in one go.”

You looked at him skeptically. “And where exactly am I supposed to find someone willing to do that on such short notice?”

Schlatt raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “You’re looking at him, sweetheart.”

The idea hit you like a ton of bricks. Schlatt... as your fake boyfriend? You couldn’t deny it made sense—he was charming, confident, and definitely knew how to play the part. But you also knew Schlatt, and the guy lived for chaos. Agreeing to this would be like handing him a golden ticket to mess with you for an entire weekend.

Yet, as you considered the alternative, Schlatt’s offer didn’t seem so bad. You sighed, the weight of the situation pressing on you. “Alright, Schlatt. You’re on. But no funny business, okay?”

He put a hand over his heart, feigning innocence. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The days leading up to the wedding were a whirlwind. Schlatt threw himself into the role with an enthusiasm that both amused and unsettled you. He insisted on practicing hand-holding, linking your arms whenever you were out in public, and even coming up with pet names that made your skin crawl—and secretly your heart flutter.

“Come on, babe, we’ve got to make this convincing,” Schlatt would tease, slinging an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close. You’d roll your eyes but couldn’t ignore the way your pulse quickened at his touch.

The wedding day arrived too soon, and you found yourself standing outside the venue, nerves buzzing through you like electricity. Schlatt was beside you, looking more handsome than ever in his suit, his signature smirk in place.

“Ready to pull off the scam of the century?” he asked, offering you his arm.

You took it, your heart racing. “Let’s do this.”

Inside the venue, Schlatt played the perfect boyfriend. He was attentive, affectionate, and never missed a beat in making sure everyone saw just how ‘in love’ you two were. His hand rested on your lower back as he guided you through the crowd, and his fingers would brush against yours in fleeting, yet charged, touches.

You approached your parents, and your mom’s eyes lit up when she saw you with Schlatt. “Oh my goodness, you brought someone!” she exclaimed, giving you both a warm smile. “And such a handsome young man too.”

“Mom,” you warned, already sensing her wheels turning.

Schlatt grinned, taking your mom’s hand and giving it a charming squeeze. “Mrs. [Your Last Name], the pleasure is all mine. I’ve been dying to meet the woman who raised such an incredible person.”

Your mom practically melted on the spot, while your dad gave Schlatt a once-over, trying to size him up. “So, how long have you two been together?” your dad asked, his tone casual but curious.

“Oh, it feels like forever,” Schlatt said smoothly, slipping his arm around your waist. “I knew [Your Name] was the one the moment I laid eyes on her.”

You shot Schlatt a look, trying to gauge if he was joking, but his expression was unreadable. Your dad raised an eyebrow, still skeptical. “And what do you do for a living, Schlatt?”

Schlatt flashed a confident smile. “I run a few businesses here and there, nothing too fancy. Just enough to keep things interesting.” He winked at you, and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. Your dad seemed satisfied enough, nodding slowly.

“Well, as long as you treat [Your Name] right,” your dad said, his tone firm.

“Like royalty,” Schlatt replied with a smirk. “You have my word.”

You were just starting to relax when you spotted your ex across the room, walking hand in hand with their new partner. They noticed you too, their eyes narrowing slightly as they took in Schlatt’s arm around you. Your heart sped up, the old insecurities bubbling to the surface.

Schlatt leaned down, his breath warm against your ear. “Showtime, babe.”

Before you could respond, Schlatt was guiding you toward your ex, his posture relaxed, but his grip on your waist firm. “Well, well, look who it is,” Schlatt drawled as you approached, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Fancy running into you here.”

Your ex looked from you to Schlatt, their expression carefully neutral. “It’s been a while,” they said, their tone polite but with an edge.

“Yeah, it has,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “This is Schlatt, my boyfriend.”

“Nice to meet you,” Schlatt said, extending his hand. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Your ex hesitated before shaking his hand, his grip just a tad too firm. “Likewise.”

Schlatt didn’t miss a beat, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to your temple. “You know, [Your Name] and I were just talking about how lucky we are to have found each other,” he said, his voice dripping with affection. “I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

Your ex’s smile tightened, but they managed to keep their cool. “I’m glad you’re happy,” they said, though it sounded forced.

“Never been happier,” you replied, leaning into Schlatt, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. You weren’t sure if it was the wine or something else, but being in his arms felt... right.

Schlatt’s fingers traced patterns on your back as he spoke, his voice low and intimate. “We should be get back to the party, babe. Don’t want to miss our song.

You nodded, letting Schlatt lead you away. Once you were out of earshot, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “You really laid it on thick back there,” you muttered, but there was no real bite in your words.

Schlatt just shrugged, his smile playful. “What can I say? I’m a man of my word. Besides,” he added, his voice dropping to a softer tone, “it’s not hard pretending to be crazy about you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, and you hoped the dim lighting hid the blush creeping up your neck. Schlatt was always flirty, always joking, but something about the way he said that made your heart flutter.

The reception was in full swing by this point, the dance floor packed with couples swaying to the music. Schlatt kept you close, his hands resting on your hips as you danced together. The night had a dreamy quality to it, like you were floating on a cloud with Schlatt as your anchor.

“You’re a better dancer than I thought,” you teased, grinning up at him.

He chuckled, spinning you around before pulling you back into his chest. “I have my moments,” he replied, his tone light. “But you make it easy, you know.”

“Make what easy?”

“Being with you,” he said, his voice sincere. “I know this is just pretend, but... it feels real sometimes.”

You looked up at him, surprised by the honesty in his words. “It does, doesn’t it?” you admitted quietly.

The song slowed, and Schlatt’s gaze locked onto yours, something unspoken passing between you. The playful banter, the stolen glances, the way your heart skipped a beat whenever he touched you—it all started to add up to something more.

“Schlatt,” you began, but the words caught in your throat. You didn’t know what to say or how to say it, and the intensity of his gaze made it even harder to think straight.

Before you could figure it out, the moment was interrupted by your mom, who appeared out of nowhere, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “You two are just the cutest!” she gushed, clasping her hands together. “I knew you’d find someone special, [Your Name]. And Schlatt, you’re such a gentleman. We’re so happy to have you in the family.”

You smiled awkwardly, trying to process her words. Family? This was fake, wasn’t it? But the way Schlatt’s hand tightened on your waist as your mom spoke made your heart do a funny little flip.

“Thank you, Mrs. [Your Last Name],” Schlatt replied smoothly. “I’m the lucky one, really. Your daughter is... she’s amazing.”

Your mom beamed, clearly charmed by him. “Well, I hope you both know you’re always welcome here.”

“Mom,” you started, but Schlatt cut you off with a gentle squeeze.

“We appreciate that,” Schlatt said, smiling down at you. “Right, babe?”

You could only nod, your thoughts a tangled mess. The line between what was real and what was fake had blurred beyond recognition, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep pretending.

As the night wore on, the reception began to wind down, and the guests slowly trickled out. You and Schlatt stepped outside for some fresh air, the cool breeze a welcome relief after the warmth of the crowded hall.

“You were amazing tonight,” you said, turning to face Schlatt. “I can’t believe you pulled that off so well.”

He shrugged, his expression softer than usual. “Anything for you.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and you found yourself searching his eyes for any hint of a joke. But all you saw was... him. The Schlatt you’d always known, but also someone you hadn’t fully understood until now.

“Schlatt, I...” you began, but your voice trailed off, the words dying on your lips. You didn’t know how to say what you were feeling, how to admit that maybe—just maybe—this hadn’t been as fake as you’d thought.

Schlatt stepped closer, his hand reaching up to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a tender caress. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us, and...”

“And?” you prompted, your heart racing in anticipation.

“And I think I’ve been falling for you for a while now,” he admitted, his eyes locking onto yours. “This weekend just made me realize it.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it. “Schlatt, I... I think I’ve been falling for you too,” you confessed, your voice shaky but sincere.

The tension between you was electric, the air charged with unspoken emotions. Slowly, almost hesitantly, Schlatt leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in the softest of kisses. It was tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but then the floodgates opened, and the kiss deepened, full of all the emotions you’d been holding back.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other’s as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.

“That didn’t feel very fake,” you whispered , a small smile tugging at your lips.

Schlatt chuckled softly, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your cheek. “That’s because it wasn’t,” he replied, his voice full of warmth. “I don’t want this to be fake anymore. I want us to be real.”

You nodded, your heart swelling with a mixture of relief and joy. “Me too.”

And just like that, what started as a pretend relationship had blossomed into something real, something that neither of you had expected but both of you wanted more than anything.

As you stood there in Schlatt’s arms, the night sky above you, you couldn’t help but smile. Maybe this weekend hadn’t gone exactly as planned, but in the end, it had turned out better than you could have ever imagined.

[jungle-angel]

Chaos In The Kitchen (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: Bob and his siblings should never be in the kitchen together, especially prepping for the big barbecue on the 4th

Warnings: Parenthood, Bob and his siblings being a chaotic mess, Meemaw having to control everybody etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse @attapullman @sebsxphia

Bob pushed the door open with the toe of his shoe, his ears bombarded by the cacophony of noise coming from the kitchen. Pans and pots clattered to the floor along with utensils, loud curses and swears flew from the doorway along with some rather colorful insults.

"......You're a fucking idiot Michael! Why would you do that?!"

"How was I supposed to know it would do that, SEAN?!"

"You two dickheads almost lit the kitchen on fire!"

"Stay outta this Reagan!"

"No I'm not gonna stay out of it! You know why? Because I am the keeper of the one collective brain cell the four of you share!"

Bob made a face and set the grocery bags down at the threshold of the door. The kitchen was a mess, completely covered in flour and smatterings of vanilla. Something had burned in the cast iron pan while Bob's brothers and oldest sister continuously argued over who had almost burned down the kitchen.

"HOLY MOSES!" Meemaw exclaimed as she came through the storm door in the kitchen with a basket of elderberries.

Everyone froze, two of them swallowing nervously.

"Um........Meemaw......we can explain.........." Eugene said.

"Please do, I'd love to hear it," she said sarcastically.

No one spoke, too nervous to rouse the wrath of their grandmother.

"I trust ya'll knuckleheads to get one thing......one damn thing made......and ya'll nearly burn down the kitchen," Meemaw pointed out.

"It was Sean's idea," Michael said, yelping when Sean stamped his older brother's foot.

"That is IT!" Meemaw declared. "Out! Out! Git on outta my kitchen! Out! Go cause trouble somewhere else!"

The five disgruntled siblings, Liam, Reagan, Eugene, Sean and Michael, all filed out the storm door to go see what else needed doing.

"Sorry ya'll had to see that Bob," Meemaw apologized.

"Nothing I haven't seen before Meemaw," Bob answered, trying not to laugh.

Him and Meemaw set to work, trying to get the kitchen cleaned up before the barbecue commenced. "Hopefully none of'em lose a finger or a hand when they set the fireworks off tonight," Meemaw chuckled.

Bob laughed a little bit. "I dunno Meemaw, but we'll find out," Bob replied.

"In the meantime we're gonna need to get this place cleaned up and bakin," she said. "Not that I wanna have the ovens goin but I guess the mini-splits will help with that. Any idea where (y/n) went?"

"She went to go get Auggie's birthday cake from the grocery store," Bob answered. "I think Dad, Papa and Hawk all went to go get them meat."

"Well, if anything they'll be a while," Meemaw remarked. "In the meantime, you and me are gonna get this shit movin."

Meemaw pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge and two glasses from the hutch cabinet in the hallway. "Two for the chefs, one for the dish," she joked.

Bob and Meemaw set to work on the pies and other baked goods, hoping they would be ready in time for the picnic. Meemaw had pulled the Hoosier Pie from the fridge, the cream filling having set overnight and needing only a liberal sprinkling of cinnamon over the top.

"Was this your mom's recipe?" Bob asked.

"Nah that was my Meemaw's recipe," Meemaw laughed. "She used to make it every summer and maybe at Thanksgiving. I remember when we'd bring your dad, aunts and uncles up to their place in Indiana every year for Thanksgiving and she'd make it."

Bob laughed at the stories Meemaw had told about her time growing up on the farm in Indiana and how she had met Papa after he had tried to sneak a slice of her gram's pie from the window.

The cream and pudding pies were stuck in the fridge to set while the huckleberry pie was quickly pulled from the oven and the apple one stuck right in. The shoofly pie had been a recipe from Meemaw's friend, Ethel, a fiery little Mennonite woman from Pennsylvania and who had been very close with Meemaw while their husbands were serving in Korea.

Finally, everything was done. Bob had never seen so many pies in his entire life. "I don't think I can look at another pie for a long time," he laughed.

"You and me both Bobby," Meemaw chuckled.

The door opened and you stuck the red, white and blue cake on the counter. "I hate holiday grocery shopping," you groaned.

Bob coiled his arms around you and kissed your cheek. "It came out great though," he remarked.

You couldn't have agreed more. The red, white and blue cake was absolutely huge with an edible photo of Captain America on the front of it. "Has Auggie seen it yet?" Bob asked.

"I don't think so," you said. "We'll wait till after dinner tonight to show him."

You joined your husband and your grandmother-in-law in the kitchen to get everything else ready, enjoying yourselves as you smelled all the tantalizing scents of the meat being cooked outside. Of course there had been chaos, but you and Bob enjoyed yourselves nonetheless.

[voxsmistress]

Mama Didn't Raise No Bimbo - Part 10

This took me a few days as it just was not wanting to play out how I wanted, finally today I figured it out! My poor brain!! Hope you enjoy guys - a little one on one time with a certain Vee ;)

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve / Part Thirteen / Part Fourteen / Part Fifteen / Part Sixteen

Thanking them both for helping you get ready and promising Velvette you would take loads of photos tonight you grab your purse and phone – glancing at the lone coffee left on the table you sigh a little under your breath. It woulda been nice to have seen Vox’s reaction to your outfit. Rolling your eyes at your own thoughts. Jeez y/n get a grip! Walking to the elevator you miss the smirks crossing Vel and Valentino’s faces. If you had, you’d have known you were walking into a big surprise.

Walking onto the black carpet at the front of the club you were kinda overwhelmed by all the flashing of the cameras, the paparazzi shouting out questions, compliments and insults thrown at the different demons and sinners on the carpet was just crazy. If you thought the paparazzi were bad when you were alive … when dead and in Hell, they really don’t give a shit.

You move further into the chaos, giving the best winning smiles at all the cameras, twisting this way and that showcasing off Velvette’s outfit which you made sure to mention numerous times (she’d killed you if you didn’t) and answering a few questions or rather answering the ones you were comfortable with – so far so good. Perhaps best to get yourself in the club before you mess up by tripping over or saying something you shouldn’t.  You went to walk to the doors until a slimy arm crept around your waist, spinning around you come face to face with some fish-like sinner. Ew. Lifting your lip in distaste you pry his arm off – you swear to Lucifer if he has left ANY slime on you or your outfit, you’d skin him alive and make sushi! Giving the arm a hard shove back towards its owner you snarl. The fuck did he think he was going to achieve? Before you could give the fucker an ear lashing another arm wrapped around your waist. Twisting your head with a glare you came up short when you faced an unamused Vox who was glaring at the creep.

“Vox?”, he flashes you a quick wink.

“Keep smiling sweetheart, you are on camera after all. Remember – perfection is our brand”, his fingers dug into your hip as he dragged you closer to him. Even with your stilettos he was taller, you had to tilt your face up to look at his expression which had its usual charming grin but the look in his eyes were telling you a different story. Leaning forwards his charming smile glitches as he menacingly spoke to the sinner: “I really suggest you don’t touch what isn’t yours!” Both of you watch the sinner nearly wet itself as it scrambled away with apologies rushing out its mouth.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, giving your best smile to the cameras, resting your arm around his trim waist to stabilise yourself. Brushing your fingers against his suit you notice it’s a lot fancier than the one he usually wears, it was navy (of course) with thin white stripes but the thing that caught your eye was a pink pocket square in his chest pocket. And not just any pink. Your pink.

A small chuckle caught your attention, he smirked down at you when he saw your eyes were focused on the pocket square: “Vel thought we should be matching if we were going to the event together. And good to see you as well Songbird”.

Together? Uh? When did you invite him? Confused you try to keep the smile on your face as he moves you both forwards a few steps; at a quick turn you both face another set of cameras. Twisting you a bit too fast you almost stumble but his arm pulls you safely to his chest. Peeking up at him you can’t stop a playful smirk, you just know he did that on purpose. Your hands were resting on his chest, he was leaning down a little to keep his grip on your waist – the coldness from his fingers made you shiver a little making his smirk grow wider on his face. From the mad flashes you knew the paparazzi would be lapping this all up. You dreaded to think what the headlines were going to be reading tomorrow.

Vox pulled you back up so you can stand properly, though a possessive hand stayed on your hip as he let you step away from his body so you both could pose appropriately for the cameras. Carrying on down the carpet you blushed when some of the more … er raunchier paparazzi started asking some very personal questions about you and Vox. Unsure how to answer you look up at the TV Demon who gave you a wicked smile. Uh Oh. Winking at the paps he instead pulled you with him down the carpet, matching his steps till you come to a small queue at the door. Standing behind you he let both his hands rest on your hips, his chest brushing your back as he leaned forwards to whisper in your ear: “what has your heart racing little songbird?”

Clearing your throat while you turn your head so you can look at him over your shoulder you raise your eyebrows in amusement at the smirking Demon. You weren’t going to tell him the truth. That it was him being so close to you that was setting your dead heart a patter. Nope. You were not going to give him the satisfaction! It was also definitely not that his face was so close to yours that you could feel his breath brush your cheeks.

“It’s my first time on a ‘red’ carpet so it was a little nerve wracking”, you tell a half-truth. You actually were really glad that he was here to help you, “by the way thank you for helping me back there”. His smirk softens a tad as his fingers rub little circles against the bare skin just above the leather pants you were wearing. Tingles flow from his touch.

“I couldn’t just let you get mauled out there” he chuckled, “plus we cann’t have you going all Siren on us again. That wouldn’t have been good for our image!” Narrowing your eyes at him you huff.

“There’s such a thing as self-control you know. He would have just gotten cursed out that is all”, crossing your arms over your chest, watching as his eyes follow their direction before humming under his breath.

“Self-control is overrated sometimes”, his eyes flick back up to focus on yours with that devilish grin that you love. That coming from the control freak made you laugh and roll your eyes at him, that grin doesn’t leave his lips as he pulls you closer as some sinners walk in front of you. “Hmm you know y/n…” raising your eyebrows questioningly he lets his screen rest on your shoulder so his lips were just by your ear, “I just can’t get the smell of your perfume out of my head”. Catching you by surprise you couldn’t hide the blush that hit your cheeks from his words. Seeing he had managed to fluster you that wicked grin grew, lifting his screen off your shoulder he squeezed your hips before pushing you gently forward. Seeing the queue had diminished you walk with him to the door and allow the doorman to check off both your names, spying Vox’s name on the form you frown. He had an invite, why hadn’t he told you earlier in the week when you spoke about it?

Entering the club, you lean back and let the music distract you for a moment. The vibration of the bass and drums. Energy ran through your body from it. After a few moments you open your eyes and see an amused Vox observing you from your side, two glasses of champagne in his hand. Holding one out to you, you accept it letting your fingers run across his own. A smile of your own tugs at the corner of your lips as you both raise your glasses in a mock cheers and take a sip.

Moving towards a free table, Vox motions to the only high stool, laughing at you when you had to jump a little to sit on the stool – damn your shortness. Vox leans against the table so your knees were brushing his legs which shouldn’t have flustered you so much. He was being quite touchy feely with you tonight. Sipping on your champagne you couldn’t help admiring his stance. He just commanded power, even just stood leaning on the table. Teeth biting your bottom lip as you wonder if he could teach you how to do it, he looks over at you suddenly as if you had called his name – caught in the act you just decide to go with it. You let your gaze wonder down his body once more, slower than before (you’d already been caught so what was the harm with having a proper look?) before raising your eyes to his. A small glitch appeared on his screen. Ooh seems you have hit a small nerve. A sip of your champagne hides the victorious smile.

A dark expression was now on his face, a clawed hand now rested on your knee giving it a sharp squeeze. You were very tempted to keep up this game of cat and mouse, but something told you that you would lose. Not that losing would be a bad thing, but it might things a little awkward later on. Possibly. Maybe. Worth it?

“Mind telling me what you are doing here? I didn’t think club openings were your type of thing. More Val’s?” You try to distract the TV Demon, when he responded to you he didn’t remove his hand from your knee.

“True sweetheart, but this club has bought a lot of security stock from VoxTek so they extended me an invite. Truthfully, I wasn’t going to come but I got a very snappish text off Valentino”, his other hand reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. “That Angel bitch has dumped our Y/n. Get your ass in your best suit and get down to the club to support our girl” he repeated the text, eyebrow quirking at you when he finished. Valentino wrote that? Annoyed that he had called Angel a bitch, you would be speaking to him about that! But you were a tiny bit touched that he made sure you had someone with you tonight. That he knew you would be nervous. Wait. Our Girl?

“Our girl?” you question, finishing the glass of champagne you pop it on the table. Glad you had because when Vox leaned forwards his hand slid further up your leg, so it was now riding up your thigh making you tense.

“Yes y/n, you are our girl. You don’t seem to realise that when you entered an agreement with Velvette, you don’t just get one of us but all three. It’s what makes our trio work so well.” Swallowing the nerves down you frown at him.

“I don’t remember that being mentioned in the agreement” sassily you cross your arms. A sharp squeeze to your thigh made you clench your legs.

“It is an unspoken rule”.

“Funny that”. You roll your eyes. Of course there would be hidden little loopholes in the deal. It was too good to be true. “Any other unspoken rules I should know about?”

He tilted his head mockingly at you. Course he wouldn’t say if there was or not. God you needed another drink. As if he could read your mind – which he better bloody not be able to – he clicked at a waiter to get you both a bottle of champagne. Watching him command the waiter you didn’t notice the owner of the club had made their way to you.

“Miss Y/n, aren’t you just a dream, pleasure to finally meet you face to face”, twisting in your chair you face the Shark-like Demon. You didn’t exactly have the best rapport with Sinners and Demons who had shark features, usually they were loan sharks or something similar when they were human. Not ones you wanted to get into business with. Plus, the ones that had cornered you last week. Plastering on your best smile you hold out your hand for him to shake.

“Pleasure is all mine Mister Carp” the irony of his name was not lost on you. “Your club looks fabulous”, his creepy smile was starting to make you feel uncomfortable, so you were quite glad when Vox turns back to you with a full glass of champagne.

“Ah Mister Vox, great to see you here as well. I didn’t realise you were both an item?” Scratch that.

Laughing he slipped the glass into your hand and leant against the table eyeing the club owner as he sipped on his own for a moment. “Well, I was curious as to what you were going to offer Y/n here to sing at your club – you realise she has a lot of offers at the moment and as someone whose associate runs other clubs, I am a very interested party in making sure Y/n gets what she is worth and nothing less”. Eyebrows lost in your hairline you smile into your glass when the owner starts to stutter. It was apparent that he was not expecting Vox to be here, let alone with you and speaking about business.

“We already spoke about your salary here Miss Y/n” he bared all his teeth in what he must have hoped was a charming smile, unimpressed you placed your glass on the table while leaning forwards allowing Vox to place his hand on the back of your chair brushing between your shoulders. After having Vox, Valentino and Velvette all use their charming smiles on you – no one else’s seemed to work.

“And I rejected that offer as it was disrespectfully low for the talent that I have” you simply put, pointing to Vox you carry on “like Vox said, I have many others who are offering twice and thrice what you have offered to pay. So. Thank you for the opportunity and invitation tonight but I will have to refuse. I think we are going to take our leave now”, you step down from the stool. The shark-demon would have intimidated you slightly if you didn’t have Vox directly behind you with an arm looped around your shoulder glaring at the club owner.

Stuttering his apologies and other offers you just roll your eyes at the club owner. You place your arm around Vox’s waist and start walking for the exit, him laughing under his breath as you grumble about what a waste of time this evening was.

“I don’t know Songbird; I quite liked this little date of ours” – catching you off guard you stumble. His laughter grew as he removed his arm from your shoulder and put it back on your hip where it barely left this evening. DATE?

“You thought this was a date?” you asked in a bit of shock. Humming his lips were twitching in amusement. “Well …” you bit your lip and then thought screw it, “I thought you out of everyone would have planned a much better date and more entertaining than posing for cameras and being looked at like shark bait by creepy club owners?” It was now your turn to laugh as his screen once again glitched and he narrowed his eyes.

“You just wait Y/n” as you walked outside you took a deep breath of fresh air.

“With pleasure, Sir” you smirk up at the TV Demon who matched you with one of his own. This night might have been a bust but it definitely was interesting.

Tag List:

@tasha-1994  @azullynxx  @reath-solia @leathesimp @klorinda @twinklethewarrior @martinys-world @rosiethevoxobesser @the-maladaptive-daydreamer @songbrita @midge7838 @joumi13 @wonderlandangelsposts @th3rizzl3r

[via-l0ve]

I'd love to see more Supernatural stuff like "would you love me if I was a worm?", please! c:

Calling The Spn Boys Really Cringey Nicknames (preference!)

a/n: i literally love you sm. when you requested this i was fr begging my brain to come up with ANYTHING and then boom here you are so thank you sm for this :)) i wasn’t sure if you meant like preferences or a funny little chaotic write up so i did both :) hope you enjoy!! (wendy williams is such a meme.)

Warnings: swearing, chaos tbh, not proofread

characters included: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Crowley

Dean:

Sam was in the room and you know you gotta mess with the moose man

you walk up to dean all innocent and you hand him a beer you got from the fridge.

“here you go, honey bunches.” insert voice you use when talking to a puppy

dean stared for a second before going

“thanks?”

“of course, Schmoopie.”

HELP

Sam rn:

You just walk away like it’s normal and go back to doing whatever you’re doing and sam is literally DISGUSTED

after a couple of seconds he just goes

“schmoopie?” bro is about to cry hes so dead cus wtf is that nickname

“yeah?” you respond, shrugging.

“never say that again.” Sam deadpans and Dean gets up to walk to you.

“what the hell was that nickname.” he asks, a HINT of a blush on his face.

you smiled. “i think it’s cute!”

he literally looks scared.

“stop it. never again.” SHIVER ME TIMBERS

you scarred the poor man and his brother

Sam:

He’s working late on research for a case you guys are in town for and he’s delirious

you bring him a coffee and decide to fuck with him a little bit

“here’s your coffee, Sammy.”

“oh, thank you y/n”

“anything for my cutie patootie!” you kiss his head and walk away

he’s literally going 👁️👄👁️

maybe he’s delirious but he’s not psycho (maybe)

him rn:

“y/n.. what?”

you just turn around all innocent

“what? cant i call you my cutie patootie? or would you rather me call you my schnuckums?”

“what the fuck.”

“y/n. go to bed.”

you made him go to bed because he thought he was hallucinating

castiel:

my precious baby

he totally asked dean all about pet names and stuff and dean was like “STAY AWAY FROM THESE ONES..”

so when you call him your poopsie he’s like 🤨

but he dosent wanna do anything weird so he goes

“love you too, Schmoop.”

GOODBYE.

he fought back

now it’s your turn to actively cringe

you when he fought back:

he tells dean about it the next day and dean is in absolute SHAMBLES

i love cas he deserves nothing but love and support

he would totally keep calling you that name just to see you die inside every time

he loves you

i love him

he’d research cringe couple names and come across Petite Chou (small cabbage) in french and call you that

everyone would think it was something cute and meant a lot

Small Cabbage

Crowley:

i honest to god feel like crowley has seen so much and you’re so chaotic he wouldn’t even bat an eye

“i love you baby cakes!!”

“mhm. love you too, y/n.”

“hey my schmoople!”

“hi y/n.”

“how was your day, snuffleuffagus?”

“good. how was yours, love?”

he’s so used to you and your antics tbh he honestly thinks it’s hilarious

but he isn’t even phased anymore lol

you guys are a power couple

[lalacliffthorne]

😈 fuck it, let's do it again 😈

modern!Feyre x Reader

summary: being stuck in a dry spell finally ends with a bold offer.

notes: is this just porn without plot? pretty much! 😂 like, there's a little plot. a teensy tiny bit *squints to see*. but that's it. the rest is really just a whole lot of smut. (also @leafsandstarlight said I should post this and I can never say no to her, so here we are 😌)

______________________________________________________________

"Okay."

I turned my head, and Feyre leaned against the doorframe, her eyes narrowing warily even as one corner of her lips tipped upwards. "What's going on?"

I crunched my brows and blinked at her from where I was stretched out on my back, my head hanging over the edge of my mattress.

"Huh?"

Feyre's lips curved into a grin, and she raised a brow and let her gaze drag through my room pointedly. I craned my neck and cringed slightly when my eyes flickered over the abandoned clothes thrown over the carpet and clothing rack, the chaos on my desk and the books and pillows strewn everywhere, paths dotted through the mess from where I had aimlessly wandered around, huffing and scowling.

I winced before turning my gaze back towards Feyre, just in time to see her eyes flicker over the lace of my bralette.

Something in my stomach twitched and twisted, and Feyre blinked, tearing her gaze away and looking down at my face, grinning lightly. “Are you okay?”

“Peachy.” I wriggled my hips to get more comfortable, sending her a smirk.

Feyre scoffed. 

“Bullshit.” She pushed off the doorframe, hestating before narrowing her eyes at me a little, her lips curving. “Does it have anything to do with that guy from the gym this morning?”

I snorted, mumbling “Partially.” under my breath.

“You know him?” Feyre trudged through the mess I had left on the carpet, stepping over my clothes before plopping down next to me on the ground. The scent of her perfume washed over me, warm and addicting as usual, and I sighed.

“Yeah, we had a bit of a thing, but – that was last year, and it didn't last and wasn't anything serious anyway.” I waved my hand dismissively.

Feyre hummed, and from the corner of my eye, I saw her grey eyes drag over my face.

“A thing?” There was something laced through her voice, though cheeky, that made my spine tingle a little.

“Yeah.” I grimaced as I reached under my back, twisting my arm to pull a pair of bunched sweatpants out from under me, sending them hurtling through the room until they landed on the hamper.

Feyre raised her brows.

“You mean, like –“

I felt my lips curve in amusement as I turned my head to grin back at her cheekily.

“Like we had a thing? A fling? Casual sex? Fucking? Getting it on?" Feyre groaned, and I snickered and raised my brows. "Do you want me to find more cringy ways of saying we hooked up?”

Feyre huffed, but her lips quirked into a wide grin when she leaned my way, lightly bumping her shoulder against my forehead. “Fuck off.”

Snickering, I turned my head back ahead.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Feyre's gaze flicker towards me, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she seemed to hesitate, and I tried to ignore the soft twisting feeling in my stomach.

“Was that before or after…”

My brain needed a second to keep up with her slow words. Then my heart did a skip, and I turned my head towards her as images flashed through my mind, a little blurry with alcohol, of the room across the hall, an addicting scent filling my lungs and my back arching off the mattress –

I blinked, feeling my lips twitch even though suddenly, heat was pooling between my legs.

“Eh. Before.” Crunching my brows and tearing my eyes away before they could stray towards Feyre´s teeth still digging into her bottom lip, I turned my head to stare back at the upside down wall in annoyance. “Anyway, it's not really about the guy, it's more about what seeing him reminded me of.”

“And what's that?” Feyre seemed to tear herself out of whatever thoughts were swirling through her mind, dropping her head against the mattress as she raised her brows at me.

I huffed grumpily.

“How long it's been since I got laid.”

Feyre blinked. Then she squinted. “How long?”

“Months.” I raised my brows.

Feyre´s lips turned upwards. “Really?"

I huffed and glowered at her. "What?"

"Nothing." Feyre's eyes twinkled as she sent me a cheeky grin. "Just didn't think you'd have trouble finding someone to release some tension."

Something in my stomach dipped, and I slowly started to grin widely. "Really? Why's that?"

Feyre rolled her eyes, grumbling, her cheeks tinging a soft pink. "No, not happening, don't think I'm gonna boost your ego."

"It needs boosting." I raised my brows with a wide, cheeky smile, and Feyre snorted a laugh like she couldn't help it, her eyes crinkling and freckles shifting.

Something swerved in my chest and my stomach.

"Fine." She twisted to stare at me, slowly smirking a little as her eyes slowly dragged over mine. "I didn't think you'd have trouble finding someone because you are just annoyingly, distractingly hot..."

My heart pulsed as I stared back at her, feeling my lips curve slowly and a thrum growing between my legs. Then I blinked, smiling cheekily as I raised a brow. "Boosted through the ceiling."

Feyre snorted, a grin breaking over her face as she flicked my forehead, and giggling, I turned my head back ahead, sighing.

"Anyway, I'm frustrated.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Feyre's gaze dart towards me, and how she shifted slightly on the spot.

“Frustrated? Or,”, she raised her brows, “frustrated?”

I snorted before sitting up with a soft groan, twisting around to face her laborously while raising my brows.

“Frustrated. Really frustrated; like – I would climb the next person walking through that door –“

Feyre blinked, her body going rigid, and I snickered.

“Don't worry, I won't.” Sighing deeply, I crossed my legs. “Though I should. Really, I don't think this is healthy, I'm wound so tight -”

Feyre's gaze seemed to be pulled down to the lace of my bra and down to the soft sleeping shorts I was wearing, and my breath hitched a little, something twisting in my stomach.

“Anyway.” I blinked again before huffing softly, trying to cover the way I could suddenly feel something pool between my thighs. “I don't have anyone to hook up with, and I can only handle this for so long, and it's getting really difficult -”

Feyre moved a little, shifting her hips again. Then one corner of her lips quirked into a light grin, her eyes dragging over mine as she blinked and arched a brow.

“Too bad we agreed that us fucking was a one time thing.”

My gaze darted up, something swerving sharply in my lower stomach as again, for a second, all I could think of was hazy moans, messy kisses and a bare body rocking against mine.

For a second, Feyre looked like she regretted even opening her mouth. But then she just swallowed, her eyes looking molten as they flickered over my face.

Staring at her, I felt something thrum between my legs as one corner of my lips tipped up just slightly, my voice cheeky but a little hoarse when I mumbled: “Yeah…”

I blinked and felt my lips curve into a teasing grin, as if there wasn't suddenly heat flooding my spine, Feyre's perfume filling my lungs and my gaze magnetically pulled in by the curve of her breasts under her short top. “And who's to say we'd to it again sober?”

Feyre huffed.

“Oh, c'mon; you know just seeing you in a fucking bra makes me want to –“ She broke off abruptly.

Suddenly, the thrum between my legs hardened. Slowly, I felt my lips curve cheekily. “What?”

Feyre glared at me, but something shifted in her eyes, mirroring the teasing grin I was wearing.

“Take it off.” Her eyes dragged down my body, and I could see the second her eyes became a little hazy, tracing the curve of my chest.

For a second, I stared at her, now slightly wide eyed, something thrumming harshly between my legs. Then I blinked.

“I'd be cool with that.”

Feyre's eyes shot up to meet mine, disbelieving, and I blinked again, quickly raising my brows.

“I mean – we fucked once already,", Feyre's pupils blew, "and – technically, it doesn't count, because we were pretty drunk,”, I blinked, nodding grudingly, “okay; it does kinda count, because we still remember, but that also means we know that it was really fucking good, well, I do anyway, which means I still think about it, and,”, I breathed out, “I really wanna do it again.”

I crunched my brows, the words just spilling from my lips. “And I'm not just saying that because I'm extremely horny; I mean, it definitely factors in me actually saying it, but –“, I couldn't help the way my eyes dragged over Feyre's body, something twisting sharply in my lower stomach as wetness pooled between my legs, “yeah, no, I was definitely thinking about it before that too.”

Feyre stared at me, swallowing as her eyes quickly darted over my body like she couldn't help herself, making the thrum between my legs harden. Her pupils dildated, and I nearly moaned a little when her teeth sank into her bottom lip.

Shifting in space, I swallowed.

“I really don't wanna pressure you, but I'm starting to get really, really turned on, so,”, I smiled breathlessly, raising my brows cheekily, “a decision would be great.” I blinked, adding hastily: “I mean, I'd totally get it if you don't want to or think that it'll make things weird, or –“

Feyre pushed herself to her feet, and the words died in my throat when she turned around.

Something dipped in my chest, and I tried not to wince, swallowing harshly as I watched her make her way towards the door.

Feyre reached for the doorhandle, and she pushed the door close, turning around.

I blinked, something twisted in my lower stomach, and I bit down on my lip to keep my lips from curving into a stupidly wide smile as suddenly, heat rose between my legs. I shifted on the spot to ease the thrum, gain some friction and tipped my head to the side with a cheeky grin.

“Now what?”

Feyre huffed, but her grey eyes twinkled as one corner of her lips rose and she hooked her fingers under the waistband of her loose pyjama pants and slid them down. My throat dried as my gaze tracked over her legs, the curve of her hips under the high waistband of her slip, and I chewed on my bottom lip, shifting my body.

Beginning to make her way back over slowly, Feyre dragged her top over her head and dropped it onto the heap of clothes already strewn around over my floors, and I felt myself pulse around nothing as my lips parted, my eyes flickering over the curve of her breasts against the thin material of her bra.

“Now I'm gonna put you out of your misery.” Feyre's eyes were twinkling as she sent me a cheeky grin, her knee pressing into the mattress, and I slid back, my legs falling apart as my heart began to pound against my ribs.

“Oh yea-“

Feyre's breath brushed over my lips, and my own caught in my throat. Then she moved her head to the side, and my eyes fluttered shut when her nose ran down my jaw, her fingers pushing my hair over my shoulder before her lips pressed slowly against my neck.

A soft, shuddering breath left me, and my head tipped to the side, something beginning to pulse between my legs when Feyre carefully traced her lips down my neck, leaving slow kisses, nipping lightly at my skin and running her tongue over the bruises, causing a soft sound break from my lips as I squirmed, wetness pooling into my panties.

Dropping her head, Feyre traced her nose down over my skin, and everything in me twisted when she ran her tongue over the lace covering my breasts.

A broken moan shook through me, and I could feel my nipples tightening, the pinch of pleasure making my head fall back when Feyre hooked her fingers under the strap of my bra and slowly pulled it over my shoulder and down until my breast spilled out of the cup.

Feyre's tongue flicked over my nipple; my eyes flew open and down, and her hazy grey iris stared up at me as her hand closed around my breast and she opened her lips, sucking my tit into her mouth as far as possible.

Another moan shuddered through me, leaving my insides twisting as Feyre hollowed her cheeks, her tongue pressing against my nipple, and my eyes rolled back when her hand freed my other breast and started kneading it, rolling my nipple between her fingers. My back arched, and Feyre ran her tongue over my skin, slowly cirling my nipple before pulling it into her mouth, sucking gently. I whimpered under my breath, twitching and squirming as my hand flew up to slide into her hair, and Feyre's eyes fluttered, a moan breaking from the back of her throat that made my lips part.

“Fuck,”, she whispered breathily and licked over my nipple, flicking her tongue over it, sucking it until it was so tight, the pleasure caused my hips to jerk. “I love your tits.” She moved over to the other, lightly nipping my skin. "So soft." She kitten-licked over my nipple, sucking it into her mouth until I moaned. “Wanna watch them bounce when you ride my tongue.”

Everything in my stomach tightened as my hips rolled against nothing, and Feyre moaned softly, her breath quick against my sticky skin when she flicked her tongue over my nipple.

A shuddering whimper left me, and Feyre moved, her lips trailing over my skin as she pushed forward.

“Sounds like a plan.” My breath was quick even as I managed to grin cheekily, and Feyre gently bit my bottom lip and pulled.

“Hm.” Her hum was breathy when she sent me a grin, her eyes twinkling. “And I can think of at least ten more ways I wanna fuck you.”

My insides twitched and shuddered, and Feyre leaned forward and kissed me.

My stomach twisted. Her lips tasted like peppermint and chocolate, soft and plump as they caught mine hungrily, and I leaned forward with a moan, kissing back deeply.

Feyre made a hoarse sound, her hand sliding to my ass, and she moved, pushing me back until I sank onto the mattress. Her fingers slipped up to curl into my hair, tipping my head back, then her tongue slid into my mouth, unhurried and making my toes curl and hips buck, a soft groan breaking from her throat when I slipped my hands over her breasts, kneading the soft flesh and running my thumbs over her nipples as I dragged my tongue over hers.

Feyre moaned, the breathy sound causing my heart to tip, and she shifted, lightly rocking her hips against mine. I arched into her at the jolt of pleasure shooting up my stomach, my legs hooking over her ass as I moaned, kissing her harder, deeper, the thrum between my legs growing hotter and hotter. The quiet sounds breaking from Feyre's throat made my stomach twitch as her tongue darted out, tracing my lips, and when I parted them, Feyre licked into my mouth, swallowing my groan as I pushed my tongue against hers.

Breaking away, breathing heavily, Feyre dipped her head, lips latching onto my nipple, and I moaned breathlessly when she looked up at me, kneading my breast and sucking harshly.

My head fell into the sheets, and my back arched when Feyre's lips dragged over my chest, moving further down. Her fingers hooked into my shorts as she left slow, lazy kisses on my stomach, her teeth grazing my skin and causing my eyes to roll back. Her tongue dragged over my skin, then she slowly pulled my shorts down, and I raised my hips as she slid them down my legs. Her breath ghosted over my soaked underwear, and my hips twitched as her hands pressed against the inside of my thighs, spreading them until my body shuddered.

Feyre moaned softly, her nose brushing over my core, and I could see her hips squirm.

“Shit, you're wet.” Her voice was throaty, and my mouth fell open when she pressed an open mouthed kiss onto my underwear, her tongue tracing my clit through the fabric, and my head fell back as a moan spilled from my lips.

"Oh shit –“

Feyre's fingers hooked under the waistband of my panties and pulled them down my thighs, and I squirmed at the feeling of cool air hitting my wet clit, my thighs closing on instinct, but Feyre forced them apart, fingers brushing over my skin as she dipped her head.

I looked down just in time to see her eyes rise to meet mine, then she slowly ran her tongue up through my folds.

Curses slipped past my lips, almost drowning the low sound leaving Feyre as her eyes closed for a second like she couldn't help it, tongue curling a little, glistening with wetness when she mumbled: “Fuck, you taste so good.” She dipped her head again, eyes moving to meet mine, and my lips fell open without a sound when she closed her lips around my clit.

My insides twisted, leaving my body writhing and fingers digging into the sheets as Feyre started to slowly suck and lick my clit. Her eyes never left my face, glazed over, and my head fell back, breathless sounds leaving my lips that made my stomach tighten when her hands pressed onto the inside of my legs, spreading them apart further. Feyre's eyes were heavily lidded as she kept alternating between sucking my clit and running her tongue over it, either in slow strokes or gently flicking it, hot breath hitting my skin. Sometimes she came up for just a few seconds, nipping at my stomach, licking over the forming bruises before lowering her head again to move back in, making my breath hitch and soft moans leave my lips.

I could see Feyre shifting her hips, the curve of her ass visible, and something shuddered right down into my core at the thought of holding onto it when she rocked against my tongue.

Slowly, a twisted knot started forming in my stomach, my clit throbbing. Feyre breathed out, something of her unhurriedness washing away little by little as she buried her face in my pussy, dipping her tongue inside of me and making a shuddering whine leave me. She started sucking harder, picking up her rhythm, flicking harshly at my clit and making my lips fall apart.

“Fuck, I –“ I pressed my head into the mattress as my back arched, eyes squeezed shut as something coiled and twisted in my stomach, my body shuddering as I clutched the sheets.

“I think I'm –“ The knot in my stomach grew tighter with the second, my hips bucking only held down by Feyre's hands, her eyes glued to my face as she sucked my clit hard. Then she flicked her tongue over it, pressing down, and my eyes rolled back as the tightness in my stomach exploded.

I cried out as my body spasmed, my back arching off the bed as my hips twitched and rolled and waves of heat and pleasure washed through me until my body shuddered as I gripped onto my breasts.

Feyre sucked on my clit, tongue lapping up everything she could as she worked me through the high, licking and moaning, breathing heavily. But she didn't let off, kept sucking until I twitched with overstimulation and whimpered, hand darting out to bury in her hair. “Fey -“

She grinned and licked one more broad stripe through my folds that made me shudder. Then she straightened, and I slumped into the sheets, skin sweaty as Feyre crawled up my body.

A moan slipped past my lips when she dipped her head and kissed me. Her tongue slid into my mouth, and something twitched deep in my stomach as I tastes myself on her.

Untangling my fingers from the sheets, I slid my hands up her body, pulling her down, whimpering when her body pressed mine into the mattress, my hips rolling up, and Feyre moaned against my mouth, kissing me deeper before sucking my bottom lip between hers. I slid my hands over the curve of her ass, squeezing the soft flesh, and Feyre made a breathy sound against my lips before lightly licking against my tongue, making both of us breathe a laugh.

I arched my neck to softly sink my teeth into her bottom lip before kissing her again, sliding my tongue against hers, licking into her mouth. Feyre sucked at my tongue, her hips twitching down when I moaned, grinding against mine, and I slid my hands down her ass, rocking her up and moaning when her breasts pressed against my sore nipples.

Something tightened in my stomach, thrumming between my legs, and with a push, I rolled us over and swallowed Feyre's breathless moan.

“My turn.”

Heat pooled in my body when I felt her fingers digging into my hair, her hips jerking, and I dropped my head, pulling Feyre's bra to the side to run my lips over her skin. Then I slowly licked over her nipple, and Feyre's head fell back as her hips bucked.

Moaning against her warm skin, I reached up to palm her other breast, running my thumb over her hard nipple, and Feyre whimpered when I sucked her breast into my mouth.

I groaned against her skin, licking and sucking harshly, grinding my pussy against her leg and feeling my clit throb as I flicked her nipple with my tongue, licking over it as I undid the hooks of her bra.

Carelessly throwing it into the room, I raised my head again, and Feyre slid her hands over my back, dragging me down until our chests pressed together, my nipples dragging over her skin and making me moan into her mouth when she licked over my tongue, hands squeezing my ass and causing a pulse of heat to shoot through me.

Sliding down her body, I settled between her legs, spreading them with my hands and feeling something tumble in my stomach at the dark patch of wetness on Feyre's panties. Dropping my head, I pressed an open-mouthed kiss onto the inside of her thigh, my teeth dragging over her soft skin as I ran my nose up to where her hip and leg met.

Feyre squirmed with a whimper, and I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her panties and dragged them down over her hips and legs.

My insides clenched around nothing, and I moaned softly at the sight of her wet pussy. Biting down on my lip, I wrapped my hands over the insides of her thighs, pushing them apart before slipping a hand between her legs to spread her folds, and Feyre moaned when I dipped my head and slowly ran my tongue over her glistening clit.

The sound and the taste of her made my hips jerk into the mattress, and I groaned softly.

“Fuck,”, I mumbled hoarsely, feeling Feyre's fingers curl into my hair. “I love your pretty pussy.” I licked over her clit, then I sucked it into my mouth.  

Feyre whimpered, her hips twitching up, and I raised my eyes to watch her as I started to suck at her clit harshly. Her lips parted, her brows crunched together as her hands flew to clutch the sheets, and something tightened harshly in my stomach, making me lick over her clit a bit harder.

“Oh.” Feyre's back arched when I ran my tongue through her folds, dipping it into her entrance, and feeling my pussy throb, I started to fuck her with my tongue, my thumb circling her clit tightly.

Feyre moaned, the sounds going straight to my core, my clit thrumming when I raised my head. My fingers were already drenched from spreading her folds when I licked over her clit and slid one over her entrance, and Feyre's eyes flew down, lips falling apart when I slowly pressed into her.

Feyre moaned breathily, her head falling back, and I slowly curled my fingers as I licked over her clit, pressing my tongue flat and hard against it before sucking it between my lips again. My hips rocked down like instinct, and I hummed, beginning to slowly thrust my finger into her.

The sound of me pushing in and out of Feyre's pussy and my lips sucking and licking her clit harshly were echoing through the room, just drowned by Feyre's moans. I could feel her insides grow tighter and curled my finger, causing Feyre to whimper.

“Fuck –“

I slipped in another finger, licking her faster, and Feyre's head tipped back as she gripped her breasts, tugging at them as her heels dug into the mattress. “Shit, I´m –“

Her walls tightened as she came abruptly. I breathed in sharply as I sucked her clit into my mouth, and Feyre threw her head back with a moan so loud and high and shattering, my hips jerked.

Reaching down on instinct, I moaned against her when I ran my fingers over my throbbing clit, and Feyre's back arched.

Her body shuddered, and I sucked until I had lapped up her cum and felt her twitch. Then I slowly slid my fingers out of her, and raising my head, I caught her hazy eyes when I pulled my fingers back from my own pussy, licking them clean.

Feyre's lips parted, eyes hazy and molten, and she pushed herself up onto her shins, leaning forward and kissing me harshly. I moaned brokenly as her hands squeezed my breasts before dragging down to my ass.

Pushing myself up, I slipped my hands over her sides, and Feyre moved forward, swallowing my breathy moan when she lodged her thigh into between my legs, dragging me into her body until our chests pressed together and my pussy rocked down onto her thigh. 

We moaned softly at the same time, heavy breaths mixing, and I dug my fingers into her ass, grinding her pussy down onto my thigh as my clit rocked against her skin.

Feyre shuddered and whimpered, pushing closer, her tits pressing into mine, hard nipples dragging over my skin as she kissed me, tongues clashing, twisting as she rocked forward, then she mumbled breathily: “Fuck.”

We fell into a hard, slow rhythm, rocking against each other, our moans mixing like our heavy breathing, bodies pressed tightly together, grinding down against each other. My pussy thrummed as I rolled my hips, clinging to Feyre's body, her perfume clouding my mind as I broke the kiss to breathe harshly against her lips. Then I kissed her again desperately, sucking her tongue into my mouth.

Feyre moaned and I could feel her body shudder, hips grinding down erratically, her wet pussy dragging over my thigh, causing my clit to throb, insides twisting.

Feyre's next soft noise broke, and I could feel her twitch. Something dipped and swerved tightly in my stomach; my hand slipped down, and I rubbed my thumb over her clit.

Feyre cried out and threw her head back as her hips shuddered, and she came, again, harder. I licked over her throat, rocking my hips down as I felt the same knot form in my stomach, insides twisting –

Feyre's lips brushed over my cheek, mumbling a breathless order.

“Come for me, baby.”

A broken moan fell from my lips, my body shuddered, and a tremor wrecked my limbs when the pleasure in my stomach collapsed into waves, my thighs trembling as dug my fingers into Feyre's skin and rocked down against her until the pleasure became blinding.

Feyre's lips crashed onto mine, and I breathed heavily, sliding my tongue against hers, feeling my insides tighten.

“Fuck,”, I mumbled, and Feyre laughed against my lips, grinning as she kissed me again, licking into my mouth before sucking on my tongue. Her hands slid up to palm my breasts, rolling my nipples between her fingers, and I whined, running my hands over her body. My fingers slid through her folds, and Feyre's hips jerked, a hoarse moan breaking from her lips.

Raising my glistening fingers, I slowly licked them off, and Feyre's lips parted when I swirled my tongue around my fingers, moaning softly.

With a groan, Feyre leaned forward and kissed me desperately, pulling me into her lap. I moaned onto her mouth when my pussy rocked down against her, and Feyre's hands slid to my ass, grinding me against her as she dropped her head and softly bit one of my nipples. The sharp jolt of pleasure made me throw my head back as I dug my fingers into her hair.

"I wanna fuck you until you pass out,”, Feyre mumbled against my skin, and I whimpered softly, pulling her head up to kiss her harshly.

“I wanna ride your pussy,”, I panted into her mouth, and Feyre moaned, nodding quickly.

Sliding off her lap, I waited until she'd parted her legs. Then I swung one of mine over her thigh, crawling over her, aligning our hips before slowly sinking down. Shifting slightly from side to side, I pushed her leg towards the side, spreading her apart as I pressed my weight onto one leg, rocking down my hips.

Feyre whimpered a moan, and my eyes rolled back when my pussy dragged over hers.

“Fuck,”, I whimpered, my fingers digging into her leg, holding it as I slowly started to roll my hips.

Moans and whines mixed with wet sounds as I began to rock back and forth, grinding my pussy onto Feyre's until the sensation made my head fall back. I could feel her fingers digging into my thigh, and when I forced open my eyes, my lips parted with a moan at the sight of Feyre beneath me. Her naked body was sweaty, her back arching, fingers digging into the sheets as one of her hands tugged and squeezed one of her breasts, her nipples hard.

My insides shuddered, and I rolled my hips down quicker, grinding down harder until I was riding her, my back arching as I rocked down faster, feeling my clit throbbing and Feyre crying out. Her teeth had sunk into her bottom lip, and her eyes were glued to my breasts that bounced with my movements, the heat in her gaze nearly sending me over the edge.

Slowing my rocking slightly, I rolled my hips down, back arching before I slowly picked the pace up again, dragging out the twisting sensation in my stomach as I felt my hair cling to my sweaty skin, my insides shuddering, pussy thrumming as I rocked it over Feyre's until my eyes rolled back into my head, twisting heat building in my stomach.

“Harder,”, Feyre panted, gripping my thigh, and I moaned and shifted, grinding down faster, more harshly, until the knot in my insides grew unbearble, tight and pulsing and –

I came so hard, my body twisted forward as my back arched, and I pushed down, grinding down my hips as waves of shuddering pleasure wrecked through me, loud cries leaving me that bounced off the ceiling, making my insides shudder. I could feel myself drip, wetness pooling over Feyre's pussy as she twitched and followed, fingers fisting the sheets with a shattering moan.

I harshly rocked down my hips a few more times before slowly sliding off her, my limbs jello as I collapsed on the mattress, breathing quick and hard, my heart thrumming against my ribs as I stared up at the ceiling, a bubbling feeling building in my chest that mounted in a delirious giggle.

The mattress shifted, then Feyre plopped down next to me, panting and smiling widely. Swallowing, I closed my eyes until my heart slowly calmed before I turned to face her laborously.

"Hi."

Feyre grinned widely and slid an arm over my waist, dragging me forward until our breasts were pressed together and she could slide her leg between mine. A broken moan left me when my clit brushed over her skin, and Feyre kissed me, swallowing the sound as her tongue traced over mine. I slid mine into her mouth, and Feyre sucked it slowly, moving her head slightly as her moan vibrated through me, going straight down to my throbbing core. My hips twitched forward, and Feyre slid a hand over my hip and down.

My back arched when her fingers slowly ran through my folds, and I moaned breathlessly against her lips, my brows crunching as my fingers dug into her skin. Feyre's eyes were glazed over as she pulled back slightly, biting her bottom lip as her fingers slowly circled my clit, my hips bucking into her hand, grinding down against her as my eyes fluttered as pleasure twisted in my stomach.

“Ride my fingers.” Feyre's voice was breathless, and I whimpered, sliding one of my legs over her waist to spread them, give her better access –

Feyre's middle finger sank into me like a stone into water, my pussy wet with my cum and hers, and my walls fluttered as my hips rolled down and I moaned brokenly, the sound swallowed when Feyre kissed me harshly.

Clinging to her, I whimpered and whined, rocking my hips down as she began to slowly thrust her finger, her palm rubbing over my clit.

Kissing back hard, I felt my lips fall open when Feyre slid in another finger, and her tongue licked into my mouth, swirling around mine as she fucked me quicker, my hips meeting her thrusts harder, and Feyre moaned softly against my lips.

"Fuck,”, she mumbled breathlessly, nipping my bottom lip. “You're making me so wet.” She licked into my mouth. “Wanna fuck myself on your pussy after this.”

I moaned brokenly, squeezing my eyes shut as pleasure twisted in my stomach, Feyre's hard nipples rubbing over mine, adding to the stimulation cursing through my body, my hips trembling. Feyre kissed me messily, moaning as her tongue swirled around mine, and I clung to her ass, grinding down onto her hand, my eyes rolling as her palm pushed against my clit.

Feyre's fingers fucked into me harder and quicker until the sounds alone made my limbs tremble. I hooked my thigh tighter around her, feeling my impending orgasm tethering at the edge, the knot in my stomach forming tighter and tighter, almost unbearable –

“Fuck.” My back arched, my hips stuttered, and I felt a broken cry fall from my lips as my body shut down, waves of pleasure crashing over me so intense, my whole body spasmed, shaking and trembling, my breath faltering as I came over Feyre's hand so hard, my insides clenched.

Feyre moaned against my neck, biting down softly as her fingers rode me through the high, curling and thrusting until I twitched and whined.

Slowly, Feyre pulled her fingers out of me, and my insides fluttered around nothing when she raised her glistening hand and licked over it, her eyes closing as she moaned softly.

Something turned over in my stomach, and I moaned brokenly when she slid her fingers into her mouth, sucking off my cum.

Moving forward, I kissed her harshly, winding my leg tighter around her and pressing against her, grinding down my hips –

Feyre rolled us over, my sweaty back pressing into the sheets, and I moaned when her hips rocked against mine. Her hands wrapped around my thighs, spreading them until my calves hooked under her ass, and she slowly rolled down her hips. Her pussy grinded down onto mine, and my back arched, my clit sensitive, throbbing, my insides twisting around nothing as Feyre's arm slipped under my back, and she moaned against my cheek, rocking down harder.

“Shit,”, I whimpered.

"God, you're so wet.” Feyre moaned softly, rolling her hips down. “So wet for me.”

I grabbed onto her ass, grinding her down harder as I rocked up into her, and a broken moan tore from my throat as Feyre whined.

“Come on my pussy,”, I breathed. “Want you to grind on me and make yourself come.”

Feyre whimpered, her movements slowly growing quicker, more frantic, and I arched my back, my fingers digging into her skin as I cried softly when Feyre pushing down made her clit drag over mine. She was grinding against me harder now, body twisting, breathing heavily as she curled her fingers into my hair and pulled my head back, kissing my neck harshly, her tongue dragging over my skin. Then she moaned and shuddered, her limbs spasmed and hips stuttered, and I rocked her down harder as she came with a cry on my pussy.

My eyes rolled back, and Feyre shuddered, sliding down my body. Her hands pressed onto my thighs, pushing them apart, and a shuddering whimper left me when she buried her face between my legs and licked a broad stripe through my folds, moaning against me.

“Shit.” She licked quickly, harshly over my throbbing clit, and my head fell back as my body arched.

“Oh –“

Feyre closed her mouth over my clit and sucked, hard, quick, until I cried out, fingers clutching the sheets as hot scalding pleasure flooded through me until my eyes rolled back, the world shattering as my spine shuddered and my whole body twitched uncontrollably.

Feyre slowly licked up my cum, soft breathy hums leaving her, then she slowly pushed herself up and crawled up my body, flicking her tongue teasingly over one of my nipples before kissing me, moaning softly.

Our tongues twisted lazily together, causing shudders to run down my spine, and Feyre lightly rocked her pussy against my thigh until I pushed it up against her, causing her to moan against me, grinding against me slowly until her whole body shuddered. My sweaty skin stuck to the sheets, and I moaned quietly when Feyre's tongue dragged over mine, softly sinking my teeth into her bottom lip.

Feyre hummed and grinned lightly against my lips. “More?”

I started to smile, wide and cheeky, my heart thrumming against my ribs as I squeezed her ass. “Why, you tired?”

Feyre dropped her head to run her tongue up over my throat, making me gasp softly before moaning, her voice breathy when she mumbled: “If things go my way, I'll go down on you for the whole night.”

A soft whine broke from my lips, my hips rocking up. “Anything else?”, I panted.

Feyre smiled against my jaw.

“Want you sitting on my face.” Her teeth nipped my skin. “Wanna watch you fuck yourself on my pussy again.” She raised her head, her grey eyes twinkling as she mumbled breathily: “See your tits bounce when you rid-“

I rolled us over, and Feyre gasped softly as I grinned against her lips. “You gonna keep talking or do it?”

Feyre breathed a wide grin and kissed me, and I moaned softly when our tongues twisted.

@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secret-ly-here @icey--stars @ailyr92

[derangedanomaly]

...So, Chaos is like my comfort character rn, and him getting mad at us... again... genuinely makes me want to cry, I can't handle getting yelled at... Like at all, and right now I'm literally shaking, if like anyone yells at me in anyway, my brain immediately says that it's my fault and I mad them mad, and to get away from them... Ha ha ha..... I think I have a problem.... But, when I get like this, I hide from the person that yelled at me, for like hours, sometimes I disassociate from the person to the point I stop responding... Completely... And then I avoid them, fearing I'll get yelled at again, and make them mad again. I won't even ask for help, I'll stay quiet and do as I'm told, without a single thought running through my head, like completely empty.

I was wondering if you could write um, some headcanons on Mare, Chaos, and the trio getting angry and yelling at us and then we just start disassociating and then when they stop yelling, we just disappear for hours only to reappear and not say a single word, but avoid them because we feel like we upset them and fear that if we get close to them they'll get angry again. And we won't even ask for things, we just hide and won't come out until our mind feels it's safe. And if they try to talk to us, at all, our mind immediately feels its no longer safe, and then we disassociate again.

You're so real for this.. I literally can't handle arguments- I don't like conflicts at all.

MASTERLIST

THE BOYS X THE READER DISAPPEARING AFTER AN ARGUMENT

NIGHTMARE:

Of course he snapped. How could he not? You keep on making excuses upon excuses, just so you can get out of doing certain chores. Nightmare just can't keep it together anymore... he's seriously too tired for this.

He was surprised when you ran up to your room, and didn't show up the whole day.

He honestly started to get a lil concerned. But his pride didn't let him check up on you

It was a shock to him when you finally came out of your room.

But even through all this... he's still the king of negativity. Of course he's gonna enjoy your negative feelings.

Honestly- won't end well. He doesn't know how to comfort someone, and he'd probably make it worse than it is actually- so.... Not the best choice 😭

CHAOS:

He didn't want to yell... He didn't mean to yell and let his emotions out... But you just suddenly started mentioning his mom...again. He truly doesn't want to think about it- he doesn't want to hear about it. Then something in him just- snapped.

You wouldn't even make it up to your room, before he grabs your hand, and looks at you with tears in his eye.

The only thing that he didn't want to happen- happened. He yelled at you.

You two immediately resolved it!

Everything went back to normal- and now you know not to mention that topic again..

Honestly, one of the best choices here lmao.

ACE:

He tries to stay away from creating conflicts...he can't stand them. He doesn't search for them- and he sure as hell doesn't want them. But hearing you spitting "facts" about his favorite tv show just made him angry..

He feels horrible after he sees you run up the stairs, a total mess.

He also- much like Chaos- won't let it sit. He'll try to immediately solve your argument!

He'd apologize really passionately! Just snuggling up to you, telling you how much he appreciates you..

BLADE:

Blade couldn't keep his cool when you fiddled with his collection of knives. He just COULDN'T. And being the idiot he is, he raised his voice....which he quickly realized was a mistake.

He was confused when you started avoiding him-

This dumbass is such a dum dum that he lets this go on for a whole week 💀

He just doesn't know what to say/do😭🙏🏻

He'd crack though, after he starts missing you.

Yeah...you got yourself a begging mess of Blade lmao

TED:

He doesn't yell at you

[zoropookie]

Would it spoil too much or... Is it ok for you to write a teensy-weensy bit of how smitten sm scara was with yn(or like their first kiss idk)

i’ll give you something that doesn’t show up in the story

“Hustle,” Kuni said, his hands hovering around his mouth to grab your attention. “We’re going to be late. It doesn’t take four minutes to put on shoes.”

“Sorry— just trying to…find Kazuha’s camera.” You struggled your words out, scavenging through the storage near the front door. “Oh man…there’s so much stuff in here.”

There was a school trip to Sumeru Akademiya paid for by the government — every student was already required to fill in an assignment that asks them what they want to consider studying. You wanted to organize an entire day of exploring a new nation, so the old reliable camera your brother used was best!

Except…you fail to find it. And Kazuha was already at work, so there weren't really any opportunities you could get to take pictures of cute dogs.

“That’s what happens when you don’t organize.” He deadpanned, bluntly jabbing his own polaroid camera into your side once he walked up. “This is my mom’s, if you want it. She wanted to give you a better birthday gift, so she gave me her leftovers. Don't find the appeal of keeping your stuff either, so here.”

You stopped to stare at the camera in his hands, eyes panning back and forth from him to the lilac object again. “Oh, no…I don’t think I should..”

“Take it.” He urged, shoving it in your hands which caused you to gasp, “She’ll let me have it if you don’t accept anything from her, she'll make it seem like I'm the one who didn't try giving it to you. Extremely irritating on the other side.”

“Really?” You frowned, “Do you want me to talk to her..?”

Kuni was about to open his lips to answer her eagerly, but his shoulders slumped at a newer resolution. “She’ll be who she wants to be. It’s not your problem, anyway.”

Marveling quietly at the camera, you turned it over in your hands and felt the cool and slick surface. The soft color was delicate and cute, a big difference to the chaos you left in your wake at the front door. Strewn around you were multiple boxes sitting out on the front door’s mat, but even with the mess, your brain wired solely on the gift.

You were closely thinking of the opportunities you’ll get while on the school trip to snap photos, smiling warmly all of a sudden at the fluttering you felt in your heart. “You keep saving my life,” You sighed in relief, looking Kuni in the eyes. “Thank you…”

He could only stare at you, as the wind blew against the both of you undistracting. His expression softened eventually, a tender smile spreading across his face. His eyes, usually sharp and intense, now vulnerable as he drank you in. “You did something different with your hair today.” He said softly.

You beamed. "You noticed?"

He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, leaning in a little to his gentle touch. “It's nice.” He spoke quieter.

You nodded slowly, feeling a small rush of affection hit your cheeks as you started feeling bashful enough to turn your head away. "Haha..."

"Kiss." Kuni stated, not leaving room for you to reply correctly.

"Huh...?" Your voice cracked.

“Kiss,” he repeated, his voice gentle yet firm. He leaned in closer, his eyes locking onto yours.

You felt your breath hitch, and slowly, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a soft kiss. It was a small peck at best, but you felt your heart in your throat at the sheer proximity of him. A beautiful sight to see, which made you all the more nervous.

Satisfied, he hummed, delighted. "Okay, let's go."

As he nudged you along, you stiffened while you hesitantly shut the door. "I'll have to apologize to Kazuha when he gets back...I didn't mean to make such a mess." You said, quickly following after your boyfriend.

"He'll get over it."

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hello!! I love your Carmy fics and (if you are still taking requests) I would love to see anything fluffy with him! Maybe like a late night up with him or literally anything!

This is completely different. It's giving more like first time meeting slash cute cuteness but I hope it's still something...

Chicago rain

Carmen wasn't a lady man. The anxiety that crippled him made any interaction awkward and robot-like at times. Hence why he practically always avoided any outing. Too many stimulations. Too little capacity in his brain to deal with it all.

But then you had walked into the Bear one day. The weather in Chicago was brutal. The wet spell was without doubt trying to drown the city at this point. Carmy was busy in the kitchen. It was past the breakfast rush but still a good chunk of time till the madness of lunchtime hit. So everything seemed slow. The pre-prep that was done last night allowed everyone to take a needed breather. Carmen heard voices from the front. Surprisingly Richie's voice didn't sound bitchy. A laughter echoed and the door to the kitchen quickly opened.

"I need one of our best sellers and someone to start a big cup of tea", Carmy frowned slightly, no one ordered tea here. "Cousin, do we have towels without holes in them?", Richie raked through the drawers, making a mess of a somewhat organized place. "Man put that back as it was, I'll grab one for the back", Carmen huffed as he walked towards his office. "Bring it out front", Richie called from behind him.

If only he had known. If only he had known that his heart was going to leap out of his chest the moment he brought that stupid tower out, he would have done a double take. Here you were, drenched to the last fiber of your skin. Shivering so hard Carmen could practically feel his own teeth aching from the friction. "Shit", he muttered under his breath, your big eyes darted up to meet him. You two stilled a bit yet your composure came back way quicker. "Sorry, I'll clean the floor, I know I left quite a...", but your rant was cut with Carmen stepping forward as he wrapped the towel around your shoulders. "Forget about it", he said, "It's nothing, Richie will take care of it".

Your cold fingers brushed over Carmen's warm hands and he practically let out a hiss at how cold you felt. His brain was working so fast that he didn't even realize it as he said, "Come over to the back. I have spare clothes you can change into". You looked back at him, shaking your head, "It's all okay, I'll grab a cup and will head out", you pointed to the absolute miserable weather outside. You both looked at it for a while before you huffed, "Yeah, I probably won't go out...", your voice died down. "Then, after you", Carmen gestured towards the kitchen and this time you didn't fight it.

You were pretty much drowning in Carmen's hoodie but the warmth of it was much appreciated. Carmen as you had learned along the way had prepared a full three-course meal. Pouring second of the soup. "My brother used to say that it warmed both the body and the soul", you smiled at that, especially when Carmen had sat to eat beside you. You watched him work after that. The rush of the kitchen. The shouting. The clacking of the pans. The smells. It all felt like a dance of some sort. A rhythm that was so easy to get lost in. You watched it till your eyes grew heavy and sleep pulled you in.

Carmen had felt your eyes on him all night. But oddly enough they didn't make him feel uneasy. Quite the opposite. He wanted to carry himself higher. Show off the place. The things he did best. By the time he pulled enough courage to look back at you, he had found you sleeping with your head resting on his office desk. Even in the midst of the chaos he had stepped out. Quickly whipping his damp hands before he took a proper look at you.

Never had Carmen seen a girl so pretty in his life. Rarely did any girl awaken any reaction in him. But there was something about you. Something that called out to him. Carmen gently ran his hand up and down your arm, making you flinch as you quickly sat up. Nearly falling over with the chair.

"God, sorry, fuck", you steadied yourself, Carmen's hand falling over your shoulders. He met your tired eyes, smiling softly, "Why don't you lay down", he nodded towards the little couch. It wasn't anything fancy, but it did the job. "No, I've caused too much trouble already", you muttered but Carmen shook his head. "Nap for a bit, we should close in a couple of hours. I'll drive you home then", he offered, getting drawn in by your eyes once more. You quickly tucked your hair behind your ear, "I will never repay you for all of this", you mumbled. Carmen shrugged his shoulders, suddenly feeling bold, "Have dinner with me sometime. If you want, of course... you can say no. I would understand and it's...", he ranted on. You reached to touch his hand and his movements stalled, "I'd like that", you muttered, feeling your cheeks growing crimson. Carmy only nodded before once again motioning you towards the sofa.

You followed his lead, tucking your legs towards your chest for more warmth. Carmen quickly looked around, reaching for his big blazer as he carefully draped it over your frame. You smiled up at him and he was quick to follow your lead especially when a yawn slipped past your lips. He watched you for a moment. Tucking the image of you deep into his brain before he slowly turned around, carefully closing the door behind him as the chaos of the kitchen sucked him right back into action. Yet the feeling of something good looming right behind these closed doors didn't leave him all evening long.

[diejager]

This is one of my first times requesting so if I mess anything up please let me know!

I recently encountered the prompt line 'I’m going to ask you how you are and I would like you to answer me honestly.' And my brain has ran WILD with it, If your comfy with it can you do Alejandro or Rudy? Only if your comfy with it! Just delete this ask if you aren't :)

the messier the better anon, nothing in less organised than organised chaos. THE BEST in my opinion. But I’m assuming it’s supposed to be angst and fluff???? Anyway, how about both????

Cw: angst?, fluff, feelings, tell me if I missed any.

He was warm, the spice and sun that clung to his clothes brought comfort to you in soft waves, a slow and gentle wash of his affection and love for someone like you. You couldn’t understand how someone as loved as Alejandro was, could love someone like you, eagerly hold a piece of his heart out without concern for himself, gifting you a space in his welcoming heart. You could almost hear Rudolfo scold you for your thoughts, reminding you that you were important to them, a beating piece of the duo that slowly eased into a trio. 

“Mi cielo, ” Alejandro mumbled, pressing his silken lips on your shoulder, trailing kisses up your neck and grounding you with a strong grip of your hips, rocking you back and forth while he mumbled sweet praises.

You melted in his arms, his pretty, sun-kissed skin and sharp face, his sinful lips and dark eyes, all things that made him so strong and dependable. Your eyes closed tiredly, leaning back against his solid frame, thick arms and chest supporting you when your knees shuddered, weakened by your exhaustion. You wondered what you did to deserve such devotion, such care from respected men: one headstrong and confident leader, and his gentle and quick-witted right-hand. 

“How are you, mi Corazón? ”you blinked when you felt calloused hands hold your limp ones, thumb running over your knuckles and pecking your cheek.

You followed the arm up to a gleeful face, his concerned smile on those pink lips and his warm eyes, the gentle curve of his cheeks and beautiful brows. You tried to smile back, return the courtesy Rudy gave you, to reach from the depth of your being and give him a taste of something you used to fear. You knew he could see the strain on your face, the heavy bags from your fitful sleep and nightmare that haunted your conscience every moment you closed your eyes, but you strived to try for them. 

Lips parting, you rasped out the first words of a familiar reply, the same you always gave— 

“The truth, pro favor, mi Corazón, ” you saw the ache in his chocolate hues, the pained tone of his voice as he locked fingers with you, sturdy and grounding, reminding you that you were in the present and not the past.

“I’m… tired,” you sighed, head bowed forward to lay on his shoulder, nose running up his collar and hiding in his familiar scent. Relaxing further in their shared embrace, nuzzling the scratchy stubble under his jaw, grumbling against his earthy and pepper scent, “But I can’t sleep. They keep waking me up.”

“You could have told us, mi cielo, ” Alejandro cooed, pressing you deeper into Rudy’s arms, knocking his forehead with Rudy’s, “We would have helped you.”

You grumbled a tried: “I know,” that made them both chuckled lightly, “I just.. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You aren’t a bother, ” Rudy swore, his tone a whisper as if it were a secret to keep between you three.

And Alejandro completed it, a promise written in the stars and in the earth, words whispered into your soul and mind: “You never are.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce