#my room is still in boxes from a move bc i had to leave for months for a family emergency

[ectogeranium]

"I can't find my elf ears, and I'm only slightly frustrated" (on the verge of a panic attack)

[sukunasweetheart]

fem!reader, heaps of cum, somnophilia, handjob, blowjob, lots of masturbation, its just mindless smut so um... yea.... i need to go to horny jail fr for this one.

word count: 1k

I just need more perv!sukuna man.... fucking pathetic and desperate and horny, i want him with that degenerate behaviour. hes alr a horny ass mf but ohhh my goodness do YOU light a fire in him that nobody else can... You make him question his fucking dignity bc he gets a raging boner every time you do the bare minimum...

Perv!sukuna who needs to take a bathroom break every now and then around you bc his dick just wont stay down - fucking his fist desperately in a toilet stall being as quiet as possible because this is so out of character for his image, he's supposed to be the nonchalant, mean, coldhearted guy!!

Perv!sukuna who shudders from how turned on he is at the simplest things you might do, like when you bump into him on accident and the scent of your perfume hits his nose like an aphrodisiac, he wants to bury his face against the crook of your neck and inhale deeply - let the smell of you reach deep into his lungs. he wants to run his tongue across your skin so he can check if you taste as good as you smell.

Perv!sukuna who eventually makes his moves on you slowly... but its really difficult when every little kiss makes all the blood rush to his cock. He drops you off to your house after a date, and he makes out with you a little bit in his car before you have to leave, and there, he's sitting in the driver's seat with a tent in his pants. He waits until the window to your room lights up, and begins to stroke himself while thinking about how're you're probably stripping in your bedroom right now, to change your clothes. and speaking of clothes....

Perv!sukuna who likes to bring any of your scented clothes against his nose and jack off vigorously, unable to get enough of it. eyes rolling back when that orgasm hits him while every breath he takes in has your smell embedded in it.

Perv!sukuna who somehow manages to snatch up one of your panties one day and jerks himself off with it... he didn't want to cum directly on it yet, but he couldn't help himself and soiled it so quickly. he'll need to wash it now, and your scent's gonna be lost. if that's the case, he'll just use it a few more times to get himself off. (by the end of it, he's ruined it beyond washing with his seed by going a bit overboard...)

Perv!sukuna who starts nosebleeding the first time he actually gets to wet his dick with your pussy. You were mortified when drops of blood started running down from his nose once his cock was inside you. He wipes it away with tissues from your bedside and insists hes fine with a wolfish grin... he's just overtly aroused. that night, he wound up using a whole box of condoms from just your cunt alone. milked completely. so satiated. at one point, he had forgotten to change condoms after cumming once and blew a couple of loads into the same one, making you balloon up a bit.

Perv!sukuna who has a libido of an endless pit, he can stay hard and just cum over and over and over again... could stuff you so full you'll be pushing his seed out of yourself for literal days after having sex with him, once you're on the pill. he's just dumped his seed into you but his hips are still thrusting, cock heavy and ready to give you another one without pulling out once.

Perv!sukuna who is obsessed with any and every part of your body. the way he gropes your tits, ass, thighs, hips, etc. resembles a perverted old man - those grabby hands are always finding a way to squish your flesh whatever chance he gets. those large, searing and calloused hands are constantly gliding across your skin, making you wet your panties without failing all the damn time. his arms snake under your clothes very sneakily. you can push him away and verbally chastise him all you want, but you can't hide how much you enjoy all of it...

Perv!sukuna who becomes relentless with somnophilia once you give him the consent-- it starts off with just pathetic and desperate dry humping, but soon you'll be waking up with his dick anywhere on the surface of your skin or inside you, and you're greeted with a 'good morning' that's riddled with a deep groan, followed by ropes of his hot cum spilling in or onto you.

Perv!sukuna who just HAS to drag you to somewhere like the public toilets, in order to get you to suck him off or stroke him or SOMETHING bc his boner is getting too painful (you caressed his thigh). you always opt for jerking him off when you're outside, because things tend to get too messy when you let him in. he has no self control smh... now he's fucking YOUR fist in a stall, panting in your ear and saying things like "fuck, yes, baby... squeeze me more- fuu-ck," before painting the toilet with spurts of his cum. you grip firmly onto the base of his dick and he almost buckles over from the pleasure. you feel his pulsating cock in your hand and bite your lip hard.

Perv!sukuna who gets an oral fixation after you gave him head once. things get difficult for you. those pretty lips wrapped around his erection makes him absolutely feral. now he's thrusting in and out of your throat mumbling "fuck- i can't- help myself-" because you're tightening up on him so nicely and it feels too good. releases straight inside with your nose pressed onto his pubic bone, hips jerking as you feel the spurts hit the back of your throat and seep down to your stomach. his eyes half-lidded, high from the pleasure.

sukuna might be the greatest pervert of all time, but what does it say about you when you stay with him regardless? you enjoy being his live fuck toy. thankfully, he gives you great aftercare and spoils you silly behind the scenes. (i wasnt bothered to write the romance aspects so please imagine it yourselves <3) the way i wanted to add MORE but refrained bc it would get a bit too repetitive :)

Masterlist

[vivwritesfics]

(Oh My God) They Were Roommates

Chapter Eleven - Reunited (and it feels so good)

Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were teammates. Tension had been between from the minute they started driving together and, when it only got worse, McLaren CEO Zac Brown decides there's only one solution: Have them live together.

1.9K

Warnings: dick sucking, fucking, mentions of necklace lando (bc goddamn)

Series Masterlist

It wasn't common for teammates to visit each other in the hospital after a crash. The McLaren team didn't expect it, didn't expect for Lando to rush straight to the hospital as soon as the race was done.

He went straight to her room, where she was laying on the hospital bed getting some well deserved rest. When Lando walked into the room, her eyes flew open. It must have been from the sound of his footsteps, he justified.

She sat up with a groan and looked at Lando. "Hey," she said, rubbing her eyes. "What're you doing here?"

"I had to come visit you, didn't I?" Lando said as he sat on the seat beside her bed.

Y/N let her head fall to the side as she looked at him. "Well, I appreciate it, Lan. But you don't have to stay here. You can go if you'd like," she said and patted the hand that sat on the bed.

But Lando wasn't going anywhere. When the doctor came to discharge her, Lando asked every question he could think of, acting like her boyfriend. When she was discharged (she had flu and slight dehydration, not enough for the doctors to keep her in), Lando walked out holding her things.

He had his arm around her. Keeping her up, he said. It didn't matter whether it was true or not, Lando didn't let go of her until they were back in her hotel room, packing her things.

Lando was supposed to leave Sunday evening, after the race. But he stuck around, waiting for Y/N to get out of the hospital. He was gonna take her home with him, take care of her once they were back at the apartment.

"You gave me a scare there," said Lando as he drover her back to the apartment. "For a minute I was scared you were pregnant."

Y/N ran her hands over her face. "Jesus, shit, Lando. We've used a condom almost every time! You over dramatic asshole." That last bit she muttered under her breath.

She climbed out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her. As exhausted as she was, she still marched away from him, making her way up to their apartment. Lando watched as she walked away from the car, disappearing through the door of the apartment complex.

She hid herself away in her room for the next few days, only emerging to make herself soup and tea. That was what kept her going, the irregularly timed bowls of soup and constant cups of fruity teas.

She wasn't avoiding Lando, wasn't exactly mad at him for being so dramatic, but she didn't want to get him sick. So, she stayed away.

She got worse before she got better, watched her favourite movies on repeat as she waited for her coughing and her sneezing to stop. Every day Lando knocked on her door with a cup of tea, which Y/N took gratefully. She didn't drink it, though. The gesture was incredibly sweet, but Lando couldn't make a decent cup of tea to save his life.

On the first day that she was feeling ever so slightly better, she was bored. And she missed Lando. She missed the feel of his body beneath hers, the way he gripped her hips as he moved her on top of him.

The box under her bed should have kept her company, but she was too sick for that. Plus, it just reminded her of the times that she and Lando spent together, using the items in said box.

She didn't emerge from her room until the second day that she was feeling better. Her throat was still tickling, but her nose wasn't running and she didn't feel like she needed a nap every time she so much as moved a muscle.

Y/N walked out of her room. She sat herself on the sofa, putting her feet up onto the coffee table, and turned on the television.

"Holy shit, you're alive," said Lando as he emerged from his own room.

Y/N cleared her throat and adjusted herself in her seat. "Lovely to see you too, Lan," she muttered, her head turned to the side to look at him. "You want to watch Star Wars with me? Meet your namesake?"

"I was not named after Star Wars Lando," he insisted as though they'd had this conversation several times before.

"His name is Lando Calrissian, you should know that."

For all of his protesting, Lando sat beside her anyway. He copied her pose, placed his feet up on the coffee table (knocking one foot into hers), and opened his arm, letting her tuck herself into his side.

"When do we meet Lando?" He asked, his fingertips playing with the ends of her hair.

She smirked at that. "Oh, in the next movie," she said quietly, taking his other hand and playing with his fingertips.

Lando went to stand up, but she clamped her fingers around his wrist. "Nope, Lan, you're going to stay here and you're going to like it."

So, he stayed. Not because he was sucked into the science fiction movie from the seventies that his roommate seemed to love, but because she wanted him there. As long as she wanted him, he wasn't going anywhere.

On the third day, Y/N was feeling right as rain.

In her hoodie and shorts (with lingerie beneath), she knocked on Lando's bedroom door. "Lando Norrissian! I'm feeling better and I want to get freaky!"

She pushed open the door.

Sat in his gaming chair in his best pants, Lando smirked as she walked into the room. She strode over to him, throwing off her hoodie as she did so. "Fuck me, Lan," she began (which he quietly replied to). "I've been looking forward to this since the last Grand Prix.

She got to her knees, blinking up at him as she touched him through his pants. "Has little Lando missed me too?" She asked, running her tongue along her bottom lip.

"Don't call him that," Lando muttered, but he was hard beneath her touch.

She pushed down his boxers allowing him to spring free. "Missed you too, buddy," she whispered and kissed the head of his cock.

Lando couldn't reply. He simply moaned and bucked his hips up. Y/N kept a hold of him, keeping him still as she took him into her mouth. It wasn't the easiest, considering she was still recovering from the flu, but she still sucked him. Not pushing herself too hard, her gag reflex couldn't handle that for the time being.

Lando's fingers knotted through her hair, holding her tightly. He wasn't directing her or forcing her down onto his cock, letting her control the pace. He just wanted something to hold.

Just once did Y/N take him all the way in. She sucked his head before pushing all the way down, until her nose made contact with his navel. But she quickly pulled away from him, took some time to recover before she started again.

As she swirled her tongue along his head, she moved her hand up and down his shaft. Lando's eyes were shut as he moaned and tugged on her hair. Clearly, he was enjoying it. "Fuck, Y/N," he cried, the muscles in his neck straining.

She pulled off of him. "Your turn?" Offered Lando, but she shook her head as she ran to his bedside table.

"If your not inside of me in the next thirty seconds we will be having problems," she said as she pulled out a condom and immediately tore the packaging.

They'd gotten good at putting on Condoms since they moved in together. No longer did they have that awkward struggle of working out which way was the right way. She kneeled in front of him again as she rolled it onto his dick, stood up and jumped on the bed, spread eagle.

Someone was eager, that much was clear.

Lando grinned as he got out of his gaming chair. He pushed his boxers to his feet and stepped out of them. "Hurry up, Lan," she whined.

Lando pulled off her panties. He climbed on top of her and leaned down to kiss her. She could wait if it meant a moment of intimacy. She accepted though, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close as to not let him again away. "Fuck, I've missed you," she whispered, her eyes shut.

Lando pulled away. He held himself as he pushed forward, gently pushing through her folds. Somehow it felt like the first time all over again. She arched her back as he continued to push forward, until he was fully sheathed inside of her.

"Fuck me," she whispered, unable to hold herself back.

Even when inside of her, Lando was still a cocky little shit. "I'm trying," he muttered through a grin as he snapped his hips forward.

As if on instinct, she wrapped her legs around him, hands on his shoulders as he fucked her. Lando had his hands on either side of her head, looming over her as he moved. His breaths were coming out in short puffs, a sheen of sweat appearing on his skin.

There was no better sight than Lando above her, she decided. If she died now, she'd die happy, the image of Lando thrusting into her forever burned into her memory.

Lando used his strong arm to prop himself up on one hand. The other travelled down, touching her body. His fingertips against her stomach had her gasping, but they kept travelling down, until they were nestled between her folds, touching her clit.

It was quite a skill he had, to fuck her like that while he was touching her. It had her moaning and writhing, oh so close to the edge. "Please, please, please," she cried over and over again as Lando grew faster.

Her walls were clenching around him, squeezing him in a delicious way. He felt her let go, maybe before she did. She cried out once more, her body tensing up, her nails raking down his back, leaving red marks as she came.

Lando kept going. Her nails against his back stung, but he loved it. He'd wear those marks forever, if he could.

Lando's thrusts grew sloppy. His grunts grew louder until he finally stopped, spilling his seed inside of the condom.

Swiftly he pulled out and disposed of it, throwing it away in the bin in his bedroom. Breathlessly, Y/N sat up, propped up by her elbows. "Holy fucking shit, Lando Norris. That was..."

"I'd missed you too," Lando answered as he sat on the end of the bed. He went to say something else, but he hesitated. Y/N didn't notice, though, too distracted by the marks she had left on his back. "Do... do you wanna take a bath with me?" He asked.

Still dressed in nothing, the two of them walked to the bathroom. Lando kept his arm around her as he did so. He sat her on top of the closed toilet lid and set about running the bath water. "You know, if you threw in a necklace, you'd look so fucking hot, Lan," she mumbled, leaning her head against the wall.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @hollie911 @hiireadstuff @annispamz @carlossainzwho @spideybv28 @wherethefuckisthething @fangirl125reader @minkyungseokie @marialovesf1 @kitixie @i-wish-this-was-me @bborra @formula1mount @charlotte1697 @formulaal @eviethetheatrefreak @lordpercivalcharles @venisvendetta @marie0v @tbsloneely @laur20a23 @formulas-bitch @cmleitora @marvelavengers000 @gills-lounge @andydrysdalerogers @demipatterns @holy-macncheese-balls @jule239 @aexitizen-ln4 @landosgirlxoxo @allinestarr @starmanv @st0rmzi3 @random-human02 @nocoolusernamesavailable-blog @happymeal777 @ashy-kit @juniper-july19 @im-an-overthinker @haylenxx @kapsylia @prettiest-at-the-party @urfavnoirette @norassimpingzone @thehufflepuffavenger1 @taintet @amorydsmt @hi00000234567 @iamkaku @maxv33rstappen @noneofyourfbusinessworld @thatsusbitch @izzy-marvel @carqueensworld

[cameronsprincess]

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/drudyslut/739556685075611648

Rafe dating pogue reader and she and her (maybe she still lived with her family too) are moving houses/apartments and she’s like “rafe will you help me/us move?” And he’s like “sure?” And after moving boxes and furniture all day he’s like “I’m never letting you move stuff again. I’ll just pay someone. This was too much work” and then one of the first things they do once she makes her bed with sheets and blankets is fuck...

he’s such a cutie, willing to help then later on saying “yeah fuck this next time i’m paying someone”

CW: smut! 18+ established relationship, rafe’s a lil sweetie but also whiny bc manual labor, unprotected sex, praise.

note: this has been in the drafts since January (LMAO) and idk if i even like it but here ya go. likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated <3

You’d been waiting on this day for so long. Finally getting to move out of your parent’s house, and live on your own. You wouldn’t lie and say you weren’t going to miss them, of course you were, but living on your own meant getting to do whatever, whenever. It also meant you could have your boyfriend over whenever you wanted without the fear of your parents coming home and interrupting whatever it was you and Rafe were doing.

Your parents weren’t too fond of the idea of you dating a Kook. The Kook prince at that. But they didn’t know Rafe like you did, no one did. Not even your friends understood your infatuation with the eldest Cameron child. But not even the snide remarks and insults your friends and family made about Rafe made you leave. You loved him. And he loved you.

You’re sitting on your bed, swinging your feet back and forth as your eyes scan the length of your childhood bedroom. Boxes are scattered all around the room, the walls bare from removing all of your pictures and posters. You finally had everything packed, and now, all you needed to do was get moved into your new apartment.

Pulling your phone from the back pocket of your shorts, you pull up Rafe’s contact, pressing call and placing the phone between your shoulder and face. It rings once. Twice. And finally, he answers.

“Hey baby, what’s up?”

You smile. “Hi, Rafe. I was wondering if you could come help me? I have all my shit packed, but no way to get it moved into my new apartment.”

There’s a long pause. His silence making you wonder why it’s taking him so long to make up his mind. You are his girlfriend after all, he should want to help you.

He finally speaks after a beat of silence. “Sure, princess. I’ll be over in thirty.”

Your smile widens. “Okay, I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

“Love you too, princess.”

You hang up the phone, deciding you could use a quick snack before he arrives, and making your way into the kitchen.

-

Thirty minutes later you’re lying in your bed, scrolling through TikTok when you hear a knock on the front door. Smiling to yourself at Rafe’s arrival, you hop out of bed and make your way to the door and swing it open.

“Hi, princess.” Rafe says, the smile you love so much gracing his face.

You step into him, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. “Hi, handsome. Thank you for coming to help me.”

His hands grip at your hips, pushing you back so his blue eyes are on yours. His eyes scan the length of your face for a minute before he speaks. “Of course. I’d do anything for you, baby.”

You can’t contain the wide smile that spreads across your face, butterflies explode in your stomach at how sweet Rafe was with you. Letting out a content sigh, you grab his right hand and begin pulling him into the house and to your bedroom where all of your stuff was.

“Okay, so I really just need help with my bed, dresser, and desk. I can fit most everything else in my car, and your backseats…”

Rafe exhales deeply, his eyes slightly widened when he looks over the expanse of your room. He brings his left hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. “Fuck. I should have just hired someone to do this.” He says admittedly.

You frown. “Baby, if you don’t wanna help I can always call JJ and John-”

“Abso-fucking-lutely not. I’m going to help you baby, you just have… A lot more than I remembered. I guess it looks like more while packed all up and not placed in its respective places throughout the room..”

You smile up at him. “Yeah I guess so. I really don’t have all that much..”

Rafe dips his head down toward yours, placing his lips on yours softly. “I love you. Let’s get you moved.”

You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. “Oh, and never say you’ll call those fucking pogues to help you out again. As long as you have me, you have my help, and I don’t want you hanging around them more than you already do..”

-

Three hours, and many boxes and pieces of furniture later, you and Rafe had finally gotten all of your stuff moved into your new apartment. The two of you are laid in your bed, his right arm tucked under your waist while his left is draped over the top of your waist. His left hand rubs slowly up and down your side, his face buried in your neck as he whispers softly against your skin. “I love you, but never again. Next time you move, I’m hiring people to do that shit.”

You giggle, turning onto your side so you’re face to face with him. “I’m sorry, you didn’t have to help baby, but I’m happy you did.”

He tightens both of his arms around your waist and rolls onto his back, bringing your body with him so you’re laid on top of him. You place both of your palms on his chest, pushing yourself up so you’re straddling his hips.

His hands rest on your hips, his fingertips lightly scraping at the exposed skin of your sides, a trail of goosebumps rising. “Will you stop that?”

You frown. “Stop what?”

“Acting like I hate helping you. I don’t.”

Sighing, you say. “I know you don’t hate helping me, Rafe. But I know you didn’t enjoy that.”

He smirks. “I didn’t. But you know what I will enjoy?”

The feel of his cock hardening beneath you has you gasping. You playfully smack his chest. “Rafe Cameron. You’re such a horny bastard.”

His darkened over eyes find yours as his smirk widens. His fingers dig into your hips, pressing your clothed pussy into his now hard cock. “Only for you, princess.”

A squeal comes from your lips when he lifts his body, tossing your back onto the freshly made bed. He grabs at the hem of his black T-shirt, pulling it up and over his head and tossing it to your bedroom floor. Your hands fly to his defined abdomen, running your nails down the soft, yet hard skin.

“You wanna play, baby?” He asks, his voice is low and raspy, making arousal pool into your panties.

You bring your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding your head as your eyes find his.

He smiles widely, quickly popping the button of your denim shorts before working the zipper and sliding the fabric down your legs. He moves to your shirt next, pulling it over your head and tossing it to the floor with his shirt and your shorts.

You’re left in nothing but a red, lace set. Rafe’s eyes take in your entire body, making you squirm underneath his stare. “Rafe.” You breathe out. “Please, touch me.”

He smiles widely, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your panties and sliding the lace fabric down your legs. His fingers dance across the skin of your lower belly, making a shiver run through your body and your breath hitch in your throat.

He runs his fingers down the expanse of your stomach and down to your inner thighs. His fingers brush across your aching clit and your hips buck upward. He begins sliding his fingers slowly through your wet folds, gathering your arousal on his fingers before he removes them and brings them to his lips. You watch in awe as he sucks on his index and middle fingers.

He hums in appreciation. “So wet, so sweet… And all mine.”

You watch as he quickly strips himself of his khaki shorts, leaving him in a pair of black boxers. Your right hand goes to palm his hard-on through his boxers, pulling a low groan from his throat.

“So fuckin’ needy, baby.”

He slides his boxers down his legs and his hard cock springs free, pre-cum already leaking from the tip. Your mouth waters at the sight of his long and thick cock.

Rafe firmly grips the base of his cock, stroking it softly before he lines himself with your entrance. He slides his swollen tip through your soaked folds and you whimper, hips bucking wildly with need for him to be inside you.

He slowly pushes the head in, pulling a soft moan from your lips. He grins, pushing more of himself inside your wet cunt. He groans when he finally pushes all the way inside, your warm inner walls clenching around him tightly. “Feels so fuckin’ good baby, fuck! I’ll never get enough of this sweet pussy.”

You whine when he slowly pulls himself back. His right hand grabs at your left leg, lifting it and placing it over his shoulder, allowing him better access to thrust himself in side you. A sharp gasp falls from your lips when he slams himself back inside you, his head hitting that sweet spot inside you.

Finding a good, quick pace, Rafe slams himself in and out of your soaked pussy, the squelching sounds of your cunt and skin slapping skin bounce off the walls of your small bedroom.

You wrap your hands around his waist, pulling him further into your body as he continues his assault on you. “Ffffuck, Rafe! Please! Harder!” You cry out.

A low growl rumbles through his chest, his hips picking up in speed. He harshly slams in and out of you, hitting at your g-spot with each thrust.

“Fuck, baby! ‘M gonna fucking cum all inside this pussy, you want that? Want me to fill your greedy hole up with my cum?”

You whimper, chest rising and falling rapidly as a warmth spreads in your lower belly. Your pussy tightens around his cock, squeezing at him tightly as your release nears.

“Yes! I want all your cum, Rafe! Please!”

You shout out a string of curse words followed by his name, legs shaking uncontrollably as you come undone around him.

He harshly thrusts one more time, his dick twitching inside you as he comes undone right behind you, filling your pussy with his cum.

“Fuck! Such a good fucking girl. My fucking girl” He coos as he thrusts two more times, fucking his cum deep inside you.

He drops your left leg onto the mattress and collapses on top of you, his breathing uneven. He rolls onto his side, wrapping his arms tightly around your body and pulling you into him, leaving a kiss at the top of your head. “I love you, princess.”

You smile, your heavy eyes fluttering. “I love you too, Rafe.”

RAFE TAGLIST: @rafeism @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @lizcameron @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @lexasaurs634 @anqeliclust @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @stvrkey @vhour @emma77645 @rafeinterlude @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @digitaldiary111 @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @atorturedpoetx @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @cantstoptherecs @pradabambie @slut4ani @biggesthat3r

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[c-cobweb]

feelz

| “the love i give her is kinda creepy, but fuck it, she orders and i deliver. i could never leave you alone” | — lil peep.

warnings: +18 mdni!, perv!tate, masturbating (m receiving), stalking, pantie stealing.

a/n: english is not my first lenguage! pd: since my post saying that i was sad bc my fics werent getting much recognition im getting many messages comforting me! ilysm💓

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Tate and you had a very nice relationship, or at least that’s how he made you see it. But what you didn’t know is that the blonde spied on you all over the house even before you knew about his existence.

It all started when you moved into the house and Tate couldn’t help but be fascinated by your beauty. When that same day you left the box with your clothes in what was previously his old room and then you left, he took the opportunity to rummage into it, finding your underwear and stealing a pair of panties hoping that you thought they had been lost with the move, which became a habit for him.

Another thing that became a habit was watching you while you showered, he couldn’t help but caress his throbbing cock while he watched the warm water fall down your body, caressing your breasts and wetting your hair.

He used to masturbate thinking about you or even seeing you without you knowing, whether you were at home or not. And this was one of those times.

You entered your house after an exhausting day at school and sighed, realising that none of your parents were in your home. You didn’t give it much importance since they would surely keep working and you went up the stairs to finally get to your room.

When you opened the door you got a big surprise when you found your boyfriend lying on your bed, with his legs outstretched and his hand around his cock while sniffing one of your used panties.

The backpack you were holding against your shoulder fell to the floor of the impression; the noise of the impact made Tate realise your presence and quickly sat on your bed trying to cover himself with his hands.

“W-what are you doing?” You asked getting closer to bed slowly, still in shock.

“I... I missed you, I needed to relieve myself,” he replied with a trembling sigh, not knowing how the fact that he was masturbating with your panties would feel for you.

Your hands trembled with nerves, you had never seen anyone masturbate and the most you and Tate had done were sessions of making out and some touching over the clothes, but nothing beyond that. “Do you think I can help you?” You said as you sat on the edge of the bed next to him, observing his hands covering his crotch.

The blonde boy was surprised, he had expected everything but that. He nodded quickly as he pushed his hands away and let his erection be free, crashing into his abdomen while drops of presemen went down the tip.

You had never done this before, but you could imagine how it was going. So you rolled your hand around his dick and began to move it from top to bottom with care not to squeeze too much, to which Tate growled.

“Faster, baby” Tate said grabbing you by the wrist to speed up your movements, you obeyed and followed his guide also squeezing your hand more on his cock.

Tate turned into a mess of moans and gasps, throwing his head back against the back of the bed and causing his fingers to sink into the sheets of your bed.

“Am I doing well?” You asked a little unsure about your actions. “Fuck babe, you’re doing so good for me. Such a good fucking girl” Tate replied between heavy breaths and moans, which relieved you and gave you security in your movements.

You leaned towards him and began to leave kisses and small bites on his neck. Every time your fist reached the tip of his cock, your index finger and thumb squeezed it slightly, causing Tate to whine of pleasure.

“Keep going, I’m almost done honey” The blonde moaned and it only took a couple more pumps for Tate’s cum to shoot at his chest and your hand.

Panting and trying to regulate his breathing, Tate runs a hand through his hair and looks at you smiling. “You did very well, pretty girl” He grabbed your hand that was not stained with his semen and kissed it torso, also caressing it with her thumb. “Now I’m going to take a shower to clean up this disaster, will you come with me?”

You quickly nodded your head and the blonde got out of bed, taking you with him to the bathroom.

───────── ⋆⋅🕸️⋅⋆ ─────────

[newtthetranswriter]

Hello,

Is it possible to have a one shot about Natsu reuniting with his s/o after he left for his 1 year of training ? Like he left only a letter for them ( the same way he did for Lucy ) but his s/o is upset when he come back ( bc seriously who leave like that ) like an angst/hurt to comfort kind of one shot? Thank you !

Word Count: 3168

Paring: Natsu Dragneel x gn! Reader

Warnings: Possibly Ooc Natsu and Lucy, Canon typical violence

A/n: Hello thank you so much for requesting this. I had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you enjoy it and that it reaches your expectations. Anyway, have a great day and remember to hydrate or diedrate.

    After the fight against Tartaros I had spent a few days in the hospital to recover from the few injuries I had received during the fight. Natsu visited me on the first day checking in on me to see if I was okay, but before I could make sure he was okay he said he had something he needed to do before leaving. On day two Lucy told me that Master Makarov had decided to disband Fairy Tail. It also felt like she was hiding something else but I didn't push it.

    When I was finally free to leave on day three, I was shocked that Natsu and Happy hadn’t shown up to walk me home. I brushed it off as they were busy trying to figure out what we were going to do now that Fairy tail was no more, I made my way to our shared home. Reaching the small house on the edge of Magnolia, I was stunned by how quiet it was.

   “Natsu, Happy, I’m home.” I called out, opening the front door expecting to be greeted by one of them. “Hello, Natsu, are you guys home?” I said looking around the space. It was weirdly clean considering Natsu and Happy were known to be bad at cleaning up after themselves. Looking around some more I noticed that there was a small envelope laying on the counter. I cautiously picked up the envelope, taking note of the wax seal that was pressed with N in holding it closed. Gently breaking the seal, I pulled out the contents.

    Dear Y/n,

   Happy and I are going on a training mission. We’ll be back in a year or so. I would have asked you to come along but I know how much you like being around our friends at Fairy Tail, so I figured you would want to stay behind. Plus you’re still recovering from the fight and I need to start training soon if I want to beat Zeref. Anyway stay safe and don’t forget that I love you. Also Happy wants you to know that he left some fish for you so you don’t have to worry about getting back to work right away. Well we should be off, again stay safe, I love you and I’ll see you in a year.

  Sincerely,

Natsu and Happy

P.s. there’s also a stash of jewel in the small box on our nightstand. Feel free to use it however you want.

  By the time I finished reading the short letter, I had tears streaming down my cheeks. Not only had the Guild I called home for most of my life just up and disbanded, but the one person who promised to be by my side no matter what, left. Not only did he leave, but he felt that a note was better than telling me to my face that he planned on leaving. I probably sat on the floor in the small makeshift kitchen for a couple hours before I decided to get up.

   As I was making my way to what used to be mine and Natsu’s shared room, there was a knock at the door. Hoping that maybe they had decided to come back for me, I wiped my eyes reaching for the door. Before I could welcome them home, I made eye contact with Lucy. Realizing it was in fact not Natsu but our close friend, I broke down in tears once again. Not being able to hold myself up, I slumped against Lucy crying into her shirt.

   “Hey it’s going to be okay.” She said softly while patting my back. “Let’s get you sitting down and then you can talk about it if you want.” The blonde said gently moving me off her chest and ushering me to sit on the small couch in my living room.

   After another hour of me crying into Lucy’s shoulder, I finally stopped and just looked forward to the empty room. “It feels wrong not having those two causing mayhem.” I whispered out as if talking any louder would break something.

   Lucy nodded as she rested her head against mine. “I know not having Natsu lighting something on fire is weird.” She said, before lifting her head off mine. “I’m sorry, I should have told you when I visited you yesterday at the hospital. I just didn’t know how.” she explained, I could tell from the shakiness of her voice that she meant it.

   “It’s not your fault Lucy, actually I’m kind of glad you didn’t tell me. I might have blamed you for it. But after reading the letter I know the only person to blame is Natsu.” I said, looking towards the letter that I apparently never set down. “I want to understand and accept that he’s going through a lot because he had to watch Igneel die, but I can’t help but be angry.” My emotions were a mess as everything set in. “He just left me with only a note and expects me to be okay with that. What am I supposed to do Lucy? Fairy Tail is done, so I won’t be able to find any work, and everyone from the guild is going to be leaving town soon so what am I supposed to do?” I asked hoping my close friend would have some answers.

   She sighed before pulling me back in for a hug. “I’m not sure Y/n, but we can figure it out. I’m sure of it.” Lucy said. It was silent for a moment before she spoke again. “Hey, why don’t you join another guild? I heard that Wendy and Carla are going to join Lamia Scale, maybe you could go with them.” She suggested.

   I thought for a moment, she was right, I could join another guild. But what would I do with my house? It's not just mine after all, it’s Natsu and Happy’s as well. I can't just sell it, and what if they come back sooner. Everything was running through my head a mile a minute. I looked to Lucy before my brain settled on a single thought. “What are you going to do?” I asked hoping that hearing her plan would help me figure out mine.

   “Oh, I was going to try and get a job with sorcerer weekly. I’ve always wanted to be a writer so maybe I could get an editing position there.” She said after a moment of thinking. 

   Taking in the information I thought for a moment, before making up my mind. “I think I’m just going to stay here for now.” I said, earning a confused look from Lucy. “I can find a job here in town and that way I’m here if Natsu and Happy come back early.” I said with a weak smile.

   She still looked confused but sighed. “If that’s what you really want, then okay Y/n. But don’t get your hopes up, I doubt Natsu would say he’ll be gone for a year if he doesn’t mean it.” She said standing up.

   “Well it’s Natsu who knows what he’s thinking. And plus someone has to keep the house clean while they’re gone. I’ll be fine, and think of it this way at least you’ll know where to find me if you ever need me.” I smiled up at her. “Promise that if you make it big working for Sorcerer Weekly that you’ll write to me and keep me updated on how things are going.” Lucy nodded, smiling before leaving. That night I barely slept, thinking about Natsu and how I hoped he was okay.

    When I woke up the next morning, I was startled by how quiet and cold the house was. But after walking out to the living room and seeing the discarded letter from Natsu on the table, I was reminded of everything that happened. I sighed before going to make myself a quick breakfast and deciding that after eating I would head into town to find work. Without Fairy Tail and without Natsu, I would have to find work soon.

    Time Skip

    It’s been a year since Fairy Tail disbanded. Which also means it’s also been a whole year since I last saw Natsu. I had stuck to what I told Lucy that night and got a job in Magnolia, staying in the house I once shared with Natsu and Happy hoping that one day they would finally return home. Lucy also kept her word and after she moved to the Capital for her job with Sorcerer Weekly, she would send letters regularly to keep me updated on her life and any information she had heard about our Fairy Tail family. Eventually as the Grand Magic Games came around, Lucy sent me an invitation saying that since she was working as a reporter for the event, she was given an extra ticket and thought I might want to watch the games. Needing a small break from Magnolia, I left for the capital ready to spend time with Lucy and see what the current top Guilds had to offer.

   The games had been interesting enough. Not as crazy as last year when Fairy Tail completely wiped the floor with the competition, but it was still fun to watch. As the final battle to decide the top guild ended, I was stunned into silence feeling a very familiar Magic start to envelope the stadium. The whole stadium followed suit as a hooded figure appeared in the arena. After a moment heat started to take over the arena and I could hear Lucy saying something about everyone needing to leave.

   Focusing on the figure and the feel of their magic I knew right away who it was. “We need to find some wizards who can fight him off.” Lucy said as the figure produced flames and began fighting the wizards in the stadium.

   “Lucy I don’t think anyone in this Stadium is going to be strong enough to fight him off.” I said as I walked up next to her, holding my arm over my face trying to block the heat. She looked at me confused. I just nodded towards the fight. “Just watch.”

   She still seemed confused but turned back to the fight. As the heat rose and the stadium began to melt I watched as realization struck Lucy. Just as she was about to say something, the announcer beat her to it. “It’s Natsu Dragneel.” Earning a massive cheer from the crowd. 

   As if on queue from the announcement, a familiar blue cat popped up between me and Lucy. “Hey, It’s been awhile. How you doing?” Hearing the exceed’s voice I turned and offered a small smile. 

   Lucy also turned to our flying friend. “Happy, you’re back.” She exclaimed, still covering her chest after Natsu’s heat melted her clothes.

   “Yeah, well Natsu insisted on challenging whoever won this year’s Grand magic Game. So here we are I guess.” Happy explained.

    I nodded, turning back to the fight, or well what was supposed to be a fight but looked more like an execution. “They don’t seem to be putting up much of a fight.” I heard Lucy say as she observed the same thing as me. I watched for only a few more seconds, listening to Natsu yell as he took on random wizards who jumped into fight him, before turning to Lucy.

   “I’m gonna head back to your apartment to rest.” I said, earning a confused look from both her and Happy. “I’m just tired and it’s super hot right now. It was nice seeing you Happy.” I explained as I walked away giving a gentle wave towards Happy. 

   As I walked away I heard Happy begin to follow me. “Wait Y/n, don’t you want to say hi to Natsu?” I paused in my trek out of the stadium. He wasn’t wrong. I did want to say hi to Natsu, but actually seeing him for the first time in a year all my emotions i thought I suppressed came rushing back.

  “Look Happy, I’m glad to see that you both are ok but I can’t see him. Not right now. I need to take some time and gather my thoughts.” I said looking at the cat. I watched as his face dropped. “Hey don’t be sad, you’re Happy you should be happy. I’ll talk to him later. You guys have fun with Lucy.” I offered him a gentle smile.

   He looked off to the side before sighing. “Okay, but we did miss you while we were gone.” He said as he gave me a quick hug. I returned the hug patting his head before waving him off and moving to leave the stadium.

   After I reached Lucy’s apartment, I realized I would only have a short period of time to process everything before Lucy came back and Natsu would definitely be with her. I sighed before deideng that I would go for a walk to clear my head. Quickly writing a note on a spare piece of paper saying I would be back later, I left the apartment again.

   I had been walking around the city for quite a few hours just thinking of how to deal with Natsu being back. Sure I was happy that he was okay and that he came back but the hurt from him leaving felt fresh. Taking a seat on one of the many little bridges that dotted the town, I sighed watching the water. I thought I had finally found a quiet place to work out my emotions, but before I could really start thinking, I heard footsteps approach from the side.

  “You’re avoiding me.” I froze up at the sound of his voice. “Why?” Natsu asked as he sat next to me. Refusing to look at him, I shook my head. “Don’t lie to me Y/n, I could smell you at the stadium, and then at Lucy’s apartment. Plus Happy said that you needed to gather your thoughts, whatever that means.”

   My shoulders sagged as I sighed. “I’m sorry. I just got scared, I guess.” I said not knowing what else to say.

   I could feel the bewildered look he was giving me without even looking at him. “Scared, of what? It’s just me. I’m the same guy I’ve always been.” He said as if it was the most obvious answer. Sensing that I still wasn’t ready to talk he sighed. “I should be the one apologizing. I left without talking to you first and that was terrible. I didn’t think that Gramps would disband the guild so I figured you would still have everyone in Fairy Tail to lean on. I was so focused on getting stronger and fighting Zeref that I failed to see I was being a shitty friend and an even shittier boyfriend.” Natsu said, hesitantly reaching for my hand. “I’m sorry that I left like that. Please let me make it up to you. I’ll do whatever you want me to just please don’t leave me.” Hearing the hurt in his voice, I finally looked at him.

   It was rare to see Natsu cry and so seeing the tears gently fall down his face startled me. I wanted to just cave and accept his apology and let things go back to the way they were, but I needed to say my piece. “I agree you were a shitty friend and a shitty boyfriend. I was already hurt physically from fighting Tartaros, then Lucy told me the Guild broke up and to top it off when I got home all I was greeted with was a letter. I was broken, I thought I wasn’t good enough, that the reason you didn’t bother to wait for me to heal was because you figured I’d just hold you back.” I began venting out the feelings I had kept bottled up for the past year. “Natsu I waited for you everyday. I woke up hoping that it was all just a dream and that you and Happy would be there arguing over whether or not fish should be cooked. And it broke me to live in our little house all alone, it took everything in me not to abandon it and move on.” I watched his face fall even more at the idea of me leaving our shared home. “But every time I got close to giving in to my dark thoughts and leaving, I remembered that you were out there somewhere and you would need somewhere to return to.” I explained, watching as his face slowly lightened up. 

   Taking a moment to breathe, I thought about what else I need to say. “I’m not saying we can go back to exactly how it was before, but I would be ok with trying again. Just promise that if you want to go on an extended training mission again, you talk with me first. And I mean actually talk to me, not just leave a letter saying you’ll be back in a year.” I said, giving him a pointed look. 

   And like magic, Natsu went from a hurt puppy dog to a puppy that was just given his favorite toy back. “I promise. I’ve missed you so much, I regretted leaving you behind every day I was gone.” He said with a bright smile. “Can I hug you now?” I laughed at the question, but nodded. I was quickly pulled into his arms, and I couldn’t help but sigh as I was enveloped by the familiar gentle smell of smoke that always lingered on him. “I really did miss you.” I heard him say as he buried his face in my neck.

   Patting his back and nuzzling into his scarf, I let out a small sound of agreement. After spending a few minutes in Natsu’s arms, I finally pulled away as a question suddenly struck me. “How did you find me all the way out here? We’re nowhere near Lucy’s apartment.” I asked.

   He tilted his head for a second before speaking. “I followed your scent, obviously. When we got back to her place and Lucy read your note, I wanted to head out right away, but her and Happy made me wait to give you time to think.” He explained like it was obvious. “Speaking of Lucy’s place, do you know the way back cause I have no clue where we are.” He asked.

   I laughed, of course he was able to track my scent after hours of me walking around but ask him to find a specific apartment in the big city and he draws a blank. “Yes, Natsu, I know the way back. Let’s go before Lucy and Happy start thinking I killed you or something.” Natsu laughed in response before offering his hand to help me stand up. Once I was standing he pulled me into another hug, placing a kiss on my forehead before pulling away and motioned for me to lead the way.

[prythianpages]

Catching Fire | Eris x Reader

summary: When word of Sawyer's nightly endeavors reaches Beron, he summons you both to his office. Meanwhile, Eris is away on a secret mission where he discovers a troubling truth about you.

warnings: violence, mentions of blood and homophobia (bc Beron is an asshole toward his son); A hint of dark Eris torturing your father

a/n: This is part five to my Like An Angel Series, where Eris falls in love with his brother's betrothed. I do try to write each imagine as a stand alone but I don't think this one can.

Eris moves with silent grace as he steps out from the shadows and into the grounds of your family’s home. His father had sent him to Dawn to handle some unfinished business with Nuan so of course, he took advantage and paid the Night Court a visit too. Now, on his way back home, he decided to stop and pay your father a surprise visit. 

Determination burns bright in his eyes as he observes the guards patrolling the perimeter. He reaches for his bow and arrow, placing an enchantment over the sound. Each arrow released is laced with a poison, weak so it doesn’t kill but strong enough to knock someone out for hours. A slight smirk plays at the corner of his lips as the guards fall one by one.

Given his status, he knows he could’ve requested to see your father at the gates and easily been granted it. But it’s important that no one but your father knows of his visit.

Eris allows the moonlight to guide him down the cobblestone path, leading to the entrance of your house. He uses his magic to unlock the front door and slips in.

The hour is late but Eris keeps his senses on high alert, in case there are still servants lurking through the halls. Your house is great and vast, adorned with expensive furniture and sculptures. One would think this was a lord’s house and not a merchant’s. He can’t help but notice the fabrics wrapped around some furniture and the random boxes littering the floors. Some boxes are filled with stuff, others still empty. Almost as if your father is planning to move.

He stops for a brief moment when he finds himself in the sitting room. Torches line the walls, enveloping the room in a dim glow. It’s bright enough to discern the family portrait hanging on top of the mantelpiece. Immediately, his eyes are drawn to you. A softness envelops his features, his heart skipping a beat. 

It’s only been a couple of days since he had to leave the Forest house and he misses you already.

As he looks at the painting, he admires how the artist managed to capture the brightness of your presence well. Beside you stands an older female, unmistakably your mother. The resemblance between the two of you is striking and the notable absence of resemblance in all ways to the male seated in the portrait leaves Eris feeling a sense of relief.

He forces himself to carry on, tearing his gaze off the painting. His keen senses guide him down a certain hallway and as he walks forward, he takes in every detail. It becomes apparent that the portrait in the sitting room must have been the most recent, for older depictions of your family adorn the walls of the hallway he traverses, each one offering a glimpse of you through the ages.

When he finally reaches the door he was looking for, he takes a deep breath and then reaches for the handle.

**

Casting a glance toward Lady Raelynn, you take a deep breath and then mimic her stance. True to her words, she had taken it upon herself to teach you how to shoot a bow and arrow. Her movements are graceful and effortless as she notches an arrow onto her bow.

“You’re so good at this,” you say in admiration when the arrow hits its target.

“I’ve had centuries of practice, my dear,” Lady Raelynn smiles warmly at you, easing her stance. Though subtle, a hint of sadness flickers in her russet eyes once more, causing a pang of guilt to tighten your brow. 

During your first practice session, you had asked her why she pursued archery, dancing around the real question you had meant to ask…How did Beron allow it? Considering the strict standards of the Autumn Court, you're certain that archery wasn't deemed appropriate for ladies such as yourselves.

Her answer had been short and simple, “it saved my life once.” You’ve heard some stories from the war centuries ago, how Lady Raelynn’s family estate was attacked by Hybern’s forces and she was the only one to escape. You didn’t ask any questions after that, sensing it was a sensitive topic.

“Your turn.”

You nod and then steady yourself. This time, you’re relieved to find your hands steady, lacking the nervous tremble that plagued previous sessions. Slowly, you draw the string of your bow back and then release. It sails through the air, missing the target by a small margin. With a sigh, you lower your bow. You were so close.

“Is that the best you got?”

Your head whips around. You recognize the voice but still, you can’t help but hope maybe you heard wrong. Reality deflates your hope as your gaze falls upon a disheveled Sawyer. Some irrational part of you had been clinging to the hope that it was Eris. Even though he had left a note for you in the book he promised to bring you, telling you he would be gone for a week. The note had burst into ashes after you read it but the words he had written were still engraved in your mind.

Angel, I’m afraid I have some business to partake in for the next week. Allow my book to keep you company and reach out to my mother, should you need help. Until then, I’ll be thinking about you and those sweet lips of yours.

-E

Sawyer lets out a tut in disapproval, pulling you out of your thoughts. He seats himself on one of the lawn chairs in the gardens, squinting at the blinding light of the sun. His hair is a mess, bags under his eyes are heavy and the clothes he wears are wrinkled and not fitting for a male of his status. If High Lord Beron could see him now, you fear what would become of him.

“Sawyer.” Lady Raelynn says in what appears to be a warning, a frown etching onto her features as she takes in the sight of her son.

Your nose crinkles as the stench of alcohol and something else reaches you. He must’ve gone out. Again. When you had bargained with Sawyer and offered to cover for his night endeavors, you hadn’t expected how frequent they would be. Sawyer was becoming reckless, as if each night closer to your wedding drove him further and further into despair. You weren’t handling it well either. The judgmental looks sent your way often followed by scoffs and rude comments as you walked around the Autumn estate weren’t helping your situation.

“What a shame,” they’d say. “I heard Sawyer hates her.”

“There must be something wrong with her. Or him.”

“Clearly, she’s not worthy. I doubt she’ll last long.”

Your fingers tighten against your bow. You didn’t care that Sawyer had no interest in you nor for the rumors that circled around him of his preferences. It was the fact that he was being careless with his actions and you worried about what it would mean for the both of you, if the High Lord finds out.

Sawyer’s lips tug up into a smirk. He leans back onto the chair, grabbing a ripe red apple from the basket of fruit laid out on the table beside him. With newfound focus and determination, you raise your bow. You’re thinking before even acting, and in the blink of an eye, the arrow is soaring. It pierces straight through the apple in Sawyer’s grasp, sending it flying and pinning it to a nearby tree.

“I was going to eat that!”

Your eyes widen in surprise, the bow falling from your grasps and onto the floor. You didn’t miss. Your mouth parts, the beginning of an apology about to roll off your tongue. Not toward Sawyer but toward Lady Raelynn. 

“Good aim,” she says before you can even speak, soothing your worry.

She then approaches Sawyer, a disapproving look on her face. She brushes his hair back and gives a small tug, tilting his head to look up at her. “Please go bathe and freshen up before anyone else sees you. Or worse, your father.”

Hurried footsteps draw near and immediately, a tight knot twists in your stomach as a servant who cannot look any of you in the eyes comes forth. She keeps her head bow, shaky hands clasped before her. 

“High Lord Beron requests Lord Sawyer’s and Lady Y/n’s presence.”

It's already too late.

**

Eris’s teeth clench as he reads over a letter that had been left in an open box atop your father’s desk. It’s a letter addressed to his father and as his eyes skim through the page, he feels a dark heat seeping into his bones.

Dear High Lord Beron,

By the time this letter reaches you, I will be far out from your grasp. I sense you’ll be angry but I urge you to not bother looking for me. The thing you seek most is already with you. It’s been with you all this time, coursing through my daughter’s veins. The essence of the sundrop flower lives within her. Not the original intention but when my wife found out I planned to sell it to the highest bidder, she decided to foolishly take matters into her own hands. 

Attached to this letter is a journal where I’ve kept all records of the sundrop flower and my daughter. Do with this information as you will. She’s all yours now.

Best wishes,

Jareth

Eris's hands are immediately reaching out for the journal that lies in the box, fingers tightening around it so harshly his knuckles are turning white. He opens it, eyes skimming over the pages and reads just enough to know what’s so precious about this sundrop flower.

When he closes the book, he’s furious. It was no surprise to him to confirm that your father was not a good male. However, it was surprising that he sold you, his one and only daughter, out. He probably killed your mother, too. With the journal still in his hand, he quietly finds and sneaks his way to your father’s room with an urge to seek out more answers.

The sun is beginning to rise when Eris makes himself comfortable on the grand armchair. It had originally been facing the window but he moved it to face your father, who was currently still sleeping. A muscle in his jaw tightens at the peaceful expression on your father’s face.

Not wanting to waste any more time, his magic yanks the covers off from your father. Your father jumps to wakefulness with a startle, eyes wide and frantic as he sits up in bed. The blood leaves his face as he spots Eris.

**

The heir to the Autumn Court reclines on the armchair as if it were his throne. There’s an air of practiced arrogance around him. He’s dressed in a fine suit, every thread woven with the finest fabrics of deep navy, highlighting the richness of his crimson hair that cascades around his broad shoulders. His amber eyes, gleaming with an unsettling intensity, pierce through the dimly lit room with an almost predatory glint.

“Call for help and I’ll slit your throat.”

“Lord Eris,” your father breathes, blinking back at him in surprise. His gaze lowers to where Eris’s ring clad fingers tap on the journal in his lap. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I came to relay a message from my father. I’m sure you’re well familiar with his impatience. But then, I found this,” Eris says, holding up the letter he found and taking pleasure in the fear that flashes through your father’s eyes. “Planning on going somewhere?”

**

It’s eerily quiet as you and Sawyer step into the High Lord’s office. You pray to the Cauldron that the glamor Sawyer placed over himself is strong enough to mask the evidence of whatever he got himself into last night. But as you turn around to face Beron, your heart sinks to your stomach. The pure anger simmering in those brown eyes of his is enough to let you know he sees right through it.

“Father, I can–”

You flinch, curling into yourself as a loud cracking sound echoes through the room followed by the sound of Sawyer’s body falling to the ground. He grunts in pain, struggling as he turns on his side to sit up. But a sharp kick from Beron sends him back to the floor, his head banging against the floor.

“You continue to disgrace this family,” Beron seethes with another powerful kick and you hear something crack. “Tarnishing the family name I spent centuries bringing up! Where is duty? Where is honor?”

Sawyer’s brown eyes light with an indignant fire. “Fuck honor,” he manages to spit out, setting Beron alight.

Tears sting at your eyes as you watch the scene unfold before you in horror. You knew the High Lord of the Autumn Court was cruel and violent. But this? And toward his own blood? This was unforgivable. Unjust and absolutely terrifying. It confirmed all your suspicions over the bruises and scars you'd seen on Eris.

Oh, Eris.

A scream catches in your throat and your entire body freezes as Beron continues to unleash his wrath on his son.

“I’ve been generous in offering you a solution and you dare make a mockery out of it?”

“There is no solution for who I am,” Sawyer cries defiantly, despite the blood trickling from his mouth.

The hurt, the agony in his voice tears at your heart–

“I dare curse the Cauldron for making you the way it did!”

“I don’t.” You’re taken aback at the firmness of your own voice.

Beron turns to you sharply, your words reminding him of your presence. You swallow thickly but stand your ground as he walks toward you. While Sawyer has not been the kindest to you, he does not deserve any of this. If anything, you now understand him more. Why your marriage came to be, why Sawyer hates you. It has your heart aching for all the suffering he must’ve endured and is still currently living through. 

“You,” he hisses with a pointed finger. “You just marked your death sentence.”

Fear creeps into your heart and a sickening smirk begins to form on the High Lord’s face. He can sense the terror filling your veins. Still, you hold his gaze, though it’s threatening to burn you alive at any given moment. 

“You’re undeserving of all the blessings the Cauldron has bestowed upon you," you say.

A harsh slap sends a stinging pain to your face. Your body stumbles backward but Beron holds you steady, gripping onto your arm. His nails cut through the thin fabric of your gown and pierce into your skin. His other hand grips your face sharply by the chin as he studies you.

“What a terrible disappointment you are. I would kill you right now but much to my discontent, I have to wait until after the wedding,” he threatens and then lets out a dark chuckle that sends shivers down your spine. The way he’s looking at you. You’re almost sure he’s thinking of all the ways he’ll enjoy torturing you to death. Your body is screaming internally in panic and there’s a strange sensation stirring in the depths of your chest.

 “You could’ve had it all, you know? What every female of your status wishes for. Money, jewels, a good family name."

“No,” Sawyer groans out, keeling over. “None of this is her fault. It’s all mine. I was careless. Eris warned me but I threatened her to stay silent.”

You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding as Beron releases his cruel grip on you. He turns back to Sawyer, who remains on the floor and you’re quick to come between them. A foolish move but you worry Sawyer doesn’t have it in him to take any more blows. Nor do you want him to.

“I do not care who is at fault for I am putting the blame on both of you anyway. But,” Beron pauses to lift a finger. “Let this be clear to you both that this is a warning. One more mishap from either one of you and it’s over. You think you know pain? I will have you longing for something as sweet as pain.”

Beron looks over at you both, delighted in the sight of your trembling form and his son, who remains on the ground. Bleeding. He’d say his message is pretty clear but just in case...

“Oh. One more thing,” he says as he makes his way toward the door. His hand grasps the door knob but he pauses, wanting to make sure you hear his next words well.

“There will be a bedding ceremony at your wedding.”

**

Eris wasn’t above inflicting pain onto your father. He meant it when he said he’d do anything to keep you safe. What a harsh twist of fate it was that the person who helped bring you into this world was also the same person content with you leaving it. 

Your father didn’t deserve you. Eris feared he, himself, did not deserve you either. But he’d be damned, if he allowed the ruthless hand of fate to have you at its grasps.

This thought crosses his mind as he gazes down at your own father’s hands. Eris had brought your father to his study, forcing him to sit at his desk while the Autumn heir loomed over his shoulder like an oncoming storm of darkness.

His hands reach for his belt, where he keeps his favorite dagger sheathed at all times. “What hand do you write with?”

Jareth’s body tenses. He turns his head to look up at Eris with wary eyes. “My right, my Lord,” he replies with quiet hesitancy.

“Good,” Eris says. The only warning Jareth got before Eris brought his dagger down, piercing through your father’s hands. He muffles his scream with his free hand as he twists the dagger further into his skin. “That means you won’t need your left hand anymore.”

“Here’s what I need you to do if you wish to live.” Eris roughly pulls Jareth’s head taut to his chest, forcing his gaze upwards. The hand at Jareth’s mouth lifts and finds its place against his throat. Eris gives a tight squeeze in warning. 

“I need you to write a letter to your daughter. Confess the truth. Apologize for all the wrongs you’ve done. Then, you pray to the Mother that y/n has it in her to forgive you… because I sure as hell never will.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Jareth mutters hurriedly, desperate to live. His right hand shakes as it finds his quill, eyes glistening with fright under the intense gaze of Eris. 

How pathetic, Eris sneers quietly as he sits himself on the chair directly across from Jareth. Though small, he needed to put some distance between them both. He fears if he didn’t, the primal instinct urging him to protect and defend you would consume him whole. 

Eris leans back into the chair, bringing the journal filled with details of your father’s twisted experiment with you to his gaze. Every so often, he casts a glance toward your father, who continues to scribble words down with haste. The more and more he learns of the truth, the more it sickens him. And the more he wishes to give in to that primal instinct, to unleash the beast that lurks deep within him. 

But he knows how much it’d hurt you if he killed your father. Even if your father deserved it. Ironically, Eris can only pray to the Mother himself that you would find it in you to forgive him for what he has planned for your father instead.

After what feels like an eternity, Jareth lets out a deep exhale. “Done.”

Eris lifts his gaze, slowly taking in the sight of your father like the calm before the storm. The older male’s face has turned ashen, coated with a sheen layer of sweat that Eris can scent.

The Autumn heir rises from his seat, leaning over to take a brief look at the contents of the letter. The corner of his lips lift into a sinister smirk.

“Looks like you won’t be needing your right hand either.”

**

Eris watches from a distance, bright flickering flames casting an eerie reflection in the darkness of his eyes. Your house is catching fire with a ferocity that thirsts to devour everything in its path. The letter your father had written to you is secured into the breast pocket of his coat along with the journal.

It all makes sense to him now. Why on that night he rushed to comfort you, you had not been concerned at all with your bleeding hand. Why the scar on his lower abdomen had magically disappeared after you touched it that same night. Why the yellow flower you had embroidered and proudly showed him looked familiar. Why your father would refer to you as a flower a lot. Why his father was obsessed with obtaining it for himself.

The sundrop flower surged through your veins.

A long, long time ago, it was whispered that a solitary drop from the Cauldron had spilled over in what is now known as the Dawn Court, giving birth to the radiant sundrop. The golden flower was no ordinary bloom as it possesses the ability to heal any ailment or injury. It blooms at a different location within the Dawn Court every fifth century or so. A phenomenon carefully overseen by the reigning High Lord of Dawn. As it is rumored that whoever beholds the flower is immortal, for nothing can harm or kill them.

Eris has no idea how your parents managed to not only find but obtain the flower before Thesan could. The sundrop is a divine creation, blessed by the Cauldron itself. A divine creation whose essence is intertwined with your very being. As Eris’s thoughts drift back to you, he feels a stirring deep in his chest.

His hand instinctively reaches for his heart, his breath catching as a tumultuous wave of emotions washes over him. Fear, panic, anger—all swirling within him. Yet not his own. No, these emotions are coming from you, echoing loudly through the bond.

A sense of foreboding settles over him. Something is terribly wrong.

a/n: Sorry for the lack of Eris x reader interactions in this one and the lack of softness this series usually holds but it was necessary to build up to the future parts. The next part will make up for it. Hope you still enjoyed! and also hoped you enjoyed the continued Tangled references lol and the one quote from the Avengers as well as some House of Dragon ones. I know a lot of information was dropped in this part so if you have any questions, just let me know. There's just three more parts to this and the bond snapping for reader is coming soon 👀

tagging: @fabulouslyflamboyant5 @fxckmiup @stormhearty @skyesayshi @sfhsgrad-blog @crazylokonugget @evergreenlark @secretlyhers @mybestfriendmademe @ib525, @96jnie, @kennedy-brooke, @scooobies, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria, @glitterypirateduck @thatsassyhufflepuff @acourtofbatboydreams, @mal-adaptive-dreams, @dandelionfairyyy

if you asked to be tagged and I didn't, please know it was a mistake and just let me know again so I can add you!

you can find a sneak peak to the next part here

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Lost in Ikea. || John Price x Reader

For @glitterypirateduck's “O, Captain!” writing challenge! I used prompts:

4. Lost in an IKEA

41. Price and Reader run into each other (literally)

48. A character tries to hide that they are crying or upset

Rating: E Words: 1.3K cw: period/menstruation + symptoms, feelings of inaddequacy?. Tags: afab!reader (bc menstruation), you/your pronouns but no Y/N, crying, hurt/comfort, strangers. Summary: Reader is just having a bad day and John is a kind stranger. a/n: I just needed a little hurt/comfort for the soul. This isn't too serious. Also the 'lost' part of Ikea is more emotional than physical. ALSO ALSO, OFC I HAD TO DO THIS PROMPT, my screen name is literally Ikea.

Should you have gone to Ikea while on your period, when you’re in pain and light-headed and in a mood to kill a man? No.

Here’s the thing, you wanted a specific little bear plush they sell there (DJUNGELSKOG). And a meal from the restaurant. And maybe a new lamp. And a new set of bed covers and pillows. And honestly, you could use a little trolley for your craft supplies. And since you’re there you might as well no longer postpone buying that shelf you need-

You walked around the store for over two hours just looking at everything and, steadily, filling up your card with more than you expected. Little knick-knacks, a new set of cups for the kitchen, a picture frame, etc. etc. 

You took your time, moved at your own pace, slowly observing all the room displays… Maybe got lost at one point, but that’s neither here nor there.

Once you found a storage trolley you liked, as well as a shelf, you advanced through the warehouse, pushing your large cart along.

The trolley came first. It was small and light enough and after checking that the box said White, you found yourself perfectly able to drag it onto the large metal warehouse platform cart.

But then the shelf- you crouched down and tried to get a grip on the box and pull, but the bitch was heavy. You huffed and struggled, but it wouldn’t budge. It probably didn’t help that both your womb and your lower back were throwing a rager of cramps and all your muscles were sore.

Maybe you shouldn’t have come on your period. Another weekend, any other weekend, and you’ve been strong enough to get the box with the disassembled shelf off its perch… But you wanted to do it today! 

You wanted to feel like you got something done. You wanted the sense of accomplishment… You wanted to feel like you persevered through the pain! 

You had the whole day planned out: You got out of bed, you showered, you had proper food and a desert, you cleaned your house, you went outside, and you finally completed something you had been putting off!

You couldn’t leave without the last one! You had to get it out! You wanted to take the stupid shelf home with you!!!!

Tears start pooling in your eyes, your lip beginning to tremble. You’ll blame it on the hormones and the frustration.

Stomping your feet, you walk down the aisle, abandoning your cart and turn the corner intent on pushing the box out from the other side-

Then you smack into a person and it knocks you so off balance (you were already sort of light-headed either way) that you drop onto the linoleum floor.

If the day wasn’t already bad enough and you weren’t already crying, taking a hard seat on the floor in front of a stranger only made you feel that much worse.

“Christ, you alright?” A man’s concerned voice comes from above you. You wince and close your eyes hard, trying to conceal the tears in them.

“Y-Yeah. Sorry. I was in a hurry and wasn’t paying attention.” You murmur and turn to the side, using the floor and the industrial shelf next to you to pull yourself up to your feet.

“No, I’m sorry, I was walking fast too.” He replies. “I wasn’t fast enough to catch you. Might be getting old. My reflexes aren’t what they used to be.” His tone sounds playful, like he’s trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, haha.” You try to laugh it off. You still haven’t properly glanced at him and he can tell that you’re trying to conceal your redened eyes as you look off to the side.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Didn’t hurt you, did I?” He checks, his voice a lot more gentle.

God, you feel pathetic. Crying in front of a stranger in the middle of an IKEA warehouse. 

“I’m fine… Just… having a bad day.” You reply and for a moment you finally look over at him.

Great. On top of making a fool of yourself in front of a stranger who happens to be super kind, said stranger is also older and hot, definitely a dilf. Great, just great. You really should’ve stayed at home today.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” He replies softly as he peers at you with bright blue eyes under thick brown eyebrows.

“It’s fine. Sorry. Didn’t mean to make this whole thing awkward. I’m sorry.” You turn to return to your things. Fuck the damn shelf, you’re going home and never coming to this IKEA again.

“Wait. Hey!” He says as he calls after you. Turning to look at him, your face twists into an upset, embarrassed look.

“You don’t have to apologise for having a bad day or having a cry, it’s alright.” The man says as he approaches you again when you’re already at your cart.

As he speaks, you notice there’s no pity in his tone, or some sort of cringe-riddled sentiment of awkwardness that comes to normal people when a stranger suddenly overshares. He’s just… kind.

Your face softens a bit more and you quickly turn to look away. Instead, your eyes find the stupid box with the shelf you want, still on the industrial shelves, and you start crying more.

“I just want that bloody shelf and it’s… it’s too heavy and I can’t get it into the cart and- I can’t believe I’m crying over this!” You complain and gesture vaguely to the space in front of you as you find yourself sniffling.

“Alright. Hey, it’s alright.” He assures you and gives you a friendly tap on the back, on your shoulder, over your hoodie. “How about I get it for you?” He asks.

You find yourself looking up at him. “I don’t wanna bother you.”

“Not at all!” He says with a friendly smile and a nod. “I’m plenty strong and I’m already here! Plus, imagine me walking away now after offering?” He jokes.

You can’t help the chuckle the escapes you amidst your broken sobs. “Would’ve been proper rude.”

“Of course it would. And my mum raised me right.” He adds playfully, causing another chuckle to rise out of you. “That’s the smile I wanted.” He cheers.

John moves forward and crouches, helping to slide the heavy box off the shelf with a mighty grip of his big hands, sliding it onto the bottom of the metal cart with the rest of your shopping. “There it is.”

“Thank you…” You murmur as you seek for tissues in your pockets, grabbing one to dab away your tears.

“It’s alright.” He assures you again. “And, for the record, there’s no shame in crying. If you would’ve asked me 3 days ago what I was doing, I’d tell you I was having a good sob in my car after going to the supermarket because I was so tired and overwhelmed.” He admits and chuckles.

“You?” You ask, not quite sure if he was being sincere.

“Oh, yeah. I cry all the time, me.” He tells you and winks one of those blue eyes at you, making you chuckle again.

“Well, thank you, erm…” You trail off, realizing you don’t know his name.

“John.” He says while reaching a hand forward for you to shake. You return the introduction with your own name.

“You think you’ve got this? Or are you gonna need help getting it into the car?” He gestures at your entire cart.

“Oh, shite, you’re right… Need to get this into the car…” You groan and facepalm yourself.

“Tell you what-” John says as he looks at you. “You wait for me while I get the rest of my things-” He takes a list of paper with scribbled reference numbers on it from his pocket. “And we’ll go through checkout together, and I’ll help load this up into your car?”

His offer is so sweet and sincere and kind, you find your eyes clouding with tears again. Then, you nod eagerly and dab away the tears with your crumpled up tissue again.

[ O, Captain! Masterlist ] || [ My Masterlist ]

[georgeclarkewifey]

Inconvenience | g. clarke

Chapter 1 - Moving out

Word Count: 1.2K

summary: time for Noa to get out of her apartment, with the assistance of Mr Christopher Dixon

Warnings: extremely mild angst / sad undertones

noamurphy

liked by chrismd10, arthurtv and 10,373 others

noamurphy no bc why is packing the worst

comments open

chrismd10 you haven’t finished packing?

⮑ noamurphy perhaps not

arthurtv you’re moving in an hour you do realise?

⮑ noamurphy yes very aware thank you. and it’s more like in five minutes and not 1 hour

⮑ arthurtv so stop replying and get packing

fan1 omg is she moving in with the boys??

⮑ noamurphy never they’re too messy x

⮑ arthurtv I refute this comment

⮑ noamurphy okay lawyer

⮑ glambyflo god i can't wait for you to be here xx

⮑ noamurphy can't wait to see you!!

fan2 praying this means more Noa content with the boys

⮑ fan3 please!!! just having her occasionally appear in Chris’ videos isn’t enough

gkbarry_ everyone shut up my girl is moving to London

⮑ noamurphy all for you babe x

maxbalegde I need to meet you immediately as soon as you’ve moved in

⮑ noamurphy consider it done x

Noa felt on the verge of crying. On the one hand, she knew this was exactly what she wanted, moving out of her cramped apartment and away from her tormenting job, to a significantly better apartment and a small position at her dream architecture firm. Still, it was all very terrifying.

The move from Jersey to Edinburgh for university was hard enough, followed by a slightly rushed decision to do a masters in Cambridge meant that Noa never really felt settled wherever she went. So, when an apartment in the same building in which her childhood friends Arthur and Chris lived became available, she jumped at the chance. It wasn’t that her apartment was bad, it just didn’t feel like home - as hard as she tried, her room felt more like a dorm and office rolled into one, with plans and building ideas scattered around.

She rubbed her face, trying to stave of the feelings of exhaustion as more books were piled into one of the many half filled moving boxes. Regretting the four hours of sleep the night before, Noa reached to the side to grab her can of Monster, cursing when she found it empty.

"Knock knock! It's you're favourite person!" a voice called in the hallway, followed by the small pitter-patter of hobbit feet.

Noa rolled her eyes and stood up, grimacing at how her joints cracked as she stretched. "Either Arthur has dramatically shrunk, or something isn't right here."

Chris chuckled as he pulled Noa in for a hug, his eyebrows raising as he took in her state. "I see you've had an ample amount of sleep."

She chuckled, turning away from him to start closing the lids on the packing boxes. "You know I thrive off practically no sleep. That's how I did A Levels. And most of university." Noa shrugged.

"I'm aware. So how much packing have you got left to do? Because I'd preferably want to be on the road before it gets too busy." Chris asked, nervously glancing at his watch.

"Calm your tits Dixie we’ll be fine.” Noa grinned, walking into her cardboard box of a bedroom to grab her last couple of things. “But thank you though, I appreciate the help.”

Chris smiled, as he began stacking boxes in the hallway. “You’re welcome Noa, plus now that we’re living in the same building, I can just borrow all your stuff. And your food.”

“I thought the four of you were good at cooking? At least, when you have the right utensils and ingredients.”

“You weren’t the one who had to try those pizzas.” Chris shivered, trying to suppress the memories. “So it’s just these boxes yeah?”

“Sure is!” Noa called, emerging from the bedroom with a backpack and duffel bag. “One of the pros of renting a furnished place, don’t have to move all the furniture when you leave.”

“Are you gonna miss it?”

“Jesus no the mattress was horrible.”

“Not the furniture you idiot, the place in general.”

Noa shrugged as she did one last sweep of the kitchen, checking that she hadn’t left anything behind. “It was nice, but it just felt like the right time to move on.”

Chris nodded, picking up one of the lighter looking boxes, helping Noa ferry them into the hall.

As he grabbed the last box from the living room, curiosity got the better of him and he had a quick peek inside (Noa had written a note on the box telling him to specifically not look). His heart tightened at the sight of the blue football boots inside, mud streaks and grass stains still evident across soles and laces. The leather was deeply creased and the colour was worn around the eyelets of the laces, they used to be used frequently, but the small layer of dust that had collected on them proved that they’d been hidden away for a while.

Rifling around in the box more, he found the matching shin pads, as well as a collection of dog eared photos. Chris smiled fondly, holding the Polaroid up to the light so he could clearing see the people in the image.

It was himself, Noa and Arthur as kids - all grinning at each other. Noa’s hair was pulled up into a ponytail, which was once probably neat, but in the moment it was a mess, flyaways everywhere and her baby hairs sticking to her forehead. Arthur and Chris looked significantly younger, baby faces prominent, with a definitive lack of facial hair. Chris felt his eyes water with emotion, remembering the ecstasy of the moment. Even as an adult, the unbridled joy of seeing someone you cared for win their football league was contagious.

Though he couldn’t help but sigh sadly, knowing how much everything had changed.

“Christopher! I specifically wrote a note on that box for you not to rummage through that!” Noa sighed, taking it from his hands and repacking it quickly.

“Why not?”

“Because you’d get all like…this.” She replied, gesturing her arms up and down at him.

“You just gestured to all of me.” Chris said indignantly, screwing his face up in confusion.

“I’m aware.” Noa answered, pulling the front door open with a grunt, pushing some boxes with her left foot to hold it open. “Now let’s get this show on the road yeah?”

“You’re not even gonna acknowledge it?”

“Acknowledge what Chris?”

“Don’t do this Noa, c’mon.” He sighed, moving to block her view of the boxes that she was busying herself with. “You’ve still got those boots.”

“Sure do.” She replied shortly, piling a small valuables box on top of one marked ‘kitchen - don’t drop’. “Got all my football stuff in there.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Noa huffed. “What’s left to talk about? We’ve talked about it many times, I think we’ve covered everything. And it was five years ago Chris.”

Chris raised his eyebrows, not convinced. “Okay, okay, but if you want to talk, me and Arthur are here.”

“Very aware of that, thanks.”

author speaks: welcome to the first proper chapter! Hope you enjoyed it :)

[mt-oe]

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐩𝐭. 𝟐—modern mizu x reader

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dears!

Thank you so much for appreciating my fics. I honestly didn't expect to receive requests for a part 2 and ya'll are making me melt aaaaaa <3

Link for the first part? Mwa!

I hope you'll enjoy this one too!

Enjoy, love! Mwa mwa :*

warnings: not proofread, smut (mdni!), very mild violence, alcohol, misgendering (bc mizu appears masculine), she/her for mizu and implied afab reader

I don't really know if she knows or not But I left some things in her jewelry box And she's wearing out my rings Taking the compliments meant for me

"Damn...I look like absolute shit."

You stood in front of the mirror, staring at yourself after waking up from a post-cry nap. Your eyelids were very puffy and your lips chapped despite being slightly swollen. The eyes that were once filled with life were like empty pits, holding no emotion.

It had been a few days since you've retrieved your items from Mizu's apartment. Thankfully, your friend had a spare room in hers and allowed you to stay for a few months until you were ready to be on your own again. If it weren't for your friends, you'd probably have a hell of a time trying to recover from your break up.

Well, you were still struggling but at least it's a start.

That wasn't to say that the moving out process was any easier though. Seeing Mizu's frown when she opened the door made you want to pull her down and kiss her until the corners of her lips turned upward. But you couldn't, your relationship wasn't like before anymore.

Her eyes watched you as you carefully removed the trinkets you had placed on her shelf. The little neon characters and toy babies were now in a cardboard box as if the two of you didn't joke around about them being your 'babies'. Your clothes were already in separate box. The goofy t-shirts she had given you as a way to make you laugh were taped shut.

"Are you really going to take everything home?" she sighed out, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. The frown on her face never left and her eyes remained as aloof as ever.

You glanced at her briefly before turning your attention back to her shelf. Fingers running across the wood, past her jewelry box, trying to remember if you had left anything else. "Don't talk to me."

Mizu rolled her eyes at your cold response. It was understandable, but that doesn't mean it didn't annoy or hurt her in any way. She pushed herself off of the wall lightly before walking off to the kitchen. The feeling of you being this cold was not something she could bear at the moment.

As she left, your fingers traced back to her jewelry box and opened it. The earrings, rings, and necklaces you always wore were still there. Your throat tightened at the sight, remembering how you had bantered with Mizu for being so 'unfashionable'.

Before you, she had only worn plain silver bands around her fingers, saying that 'she didn't need anymore than that' and 'they're just rings, no need to be special'. But of course, you knew her long, slender, yet rough hands were too beautiful for the bare minimum.

It took a while to convince her, mainly because she secretly liked seeing you try so hard for her, but you finally got her to try out your rings. The feeling of having more accessories on her hand was odd to her and there were definitely times the accessories got snagged on her hair, clothes, and other things. However, the feeling of having a bit of you with her comforted her. It was adorable honestly. You even ended up leaving the rings she often borrowed from in her jewelry box.

And now, you were staring at the same rings placed snugly in the velvet-y confines of the jewelry box. A sigh escaped your lips as you took your earrings and necklaces back, but for some reason, you really couldn't bring yourself to take your rings back. A small tug in your heart felt that maybe she'd wear them and remember you.

"It is what it is," you mumbled, trudging back to your room. Your room looked like a shit storm. Clothes were strewn haphazardly across the floor, the trinkets you once displayed on Mizu's shelf were now scattered on random surfaces, and the books you bought but never read were...well they were still rotting on a random corner.

As you were about to lay down, your friend knocked on your door before opening it. The sight of you merely rotting in bed made her eyebrows furrow but it quickly disappeared as she walked in. "Want to drink somewhere?" She leaned sideways against the wall, cross her leg over the other.

You were about to refuse but the image of your exhausted self and the aching loneliness bothered your mind. Nodding at her, you stood up again. As if silently communicating with you, she gave you a relieved smile before leaving the room to give you some space to get ready.

Once the two of you had arrived to the club, you immediately sat down, waiting for your drinks to arrive. The music was blaring through the speakers and the smell of sweat, alcohol, and the mix of people's perfume lingered around. You were usually up for some partying but the ache of your heartbreak drained you this time around.

As your drinks arrived, you poured yourself a shot, not even bothering to wait for your friend. She was probably already dancing with someone somewhere. Your eyes scanned the crowd, people-watching as you downed the shot, the burn of the alcohol making you cough a bit.

Some how, it was peaceful for you despite the dancing, hollering, and even the strangers making out with who ever. Even your friend's return to the table, clearly having stolen a bottle of beer from another table, didn't bother you. Maybe you were finally attaining peace for the first time in a while. Maybe all you really needed was some alcohol to forget about Mi—

"Hey, isn't that Akemi?" Your friend asked, pointing at the sofa near the center.

What the fuck?

And although I think I'll miss them At least there's proof of my existence A captive little soldier on her fingers Deep behind enemy lines

You almost spit your second shot out, the alcohol almost traveling to your nose, making you retch over as you coughed in attempt to get the liquid back to your mouth again. Your watery eyes scanned over the crowd once again until you finally saw her. It really was Akemi. If she was here, Mizu was bound to be here too, right?

Panic with a bit of anticipation settled in you as your eyes tried to find your ex.

No. She wasn't here.

A sigh of disappointment escaped your lips upon sitting down.

Wait. Disappointment?

The hell?

"I-I'm going to dance for a moment," you told your friend. There was no way you're disappointed in Mizu's absence. You were going to find another way to move on.

As you made your way through the crowd, dancing and mingling with others while you sipped on your beer, a woman approached you and began flirting. The interaction made you feel awkward at first. A mix of panic, intoxication from the alcohol, and slight flattery was boiling inside you.

The woman flirting with you invited you to their table, to which you agreed. She introduced her friends to you, sharing drinks and stories. Some time later as you were interacting with them, she had slung an arm around you and pulled you close. It wasn't a touch that you were particularly comfortable with, but another shot with a Heineken as a chaser fixed that.

While you continued to interact with them, you noticed the lady's eyes staring at someone through the crowd. "His rings look expensive," she told you, pointing towards someone. Your eyes looked at where she was pointing at and widened.

Fuck it was Mizu.

And she was with someone else too. The woman she was with continued to play with the rings on her hand as they sat down, giggling and talking to her. They looked so happy and your ex looks like she had moved on. You continued to stare, not believing the sight, until your eyes met. You quickly sat back down, trying to calm yourself down.

Your vision was blurring either from the tears or from the alcohol or maybe both. The music ringing in your head as it continued to boom throughout the venue.

The lady you were with looked at you with concern before leaning closer to your ear. "Let's take this somewhere else," she whispered, giving you a smile. You nodded and stood up with her, making your way outside onto an alley beside the establishment.

I still have your lighter I still have your book I still have everything you brought, but you never took

The lady watched as you took out a cigarette, placing it between your lips before you began rummaging through your bag for a lighter. "You don't seem like the type to smoke," she joked in an attempt to ease your mood.

She was right. You weren't the type to smoke. In fact, you only started after your break up. The same night, you bought a carton of Marlboro Blue because you saw Mizu smoking it when she was still just your hallway crush. The image of her leaning against her motor bike, smoking while smiling lightly at the sight of her friends bantering was one that never left your mind.

"I learned from someone." You lit the cigarette with the lighter you had found in your purse before inspecting it. Your eyes widened as you realized that it was Mizu's lighter, making you choke on the smoke.

"It's him, right? The tall dude with the nice rings? The one with the blue eyes." The lady patted your back as you continued to cough, frowning when you nodded. She watched you smoke for a moment before moving closer towards you.

Your eyes looked...Bothered. Like you wanted to go back in there and thrash the table, to ask Mizu who the fuck she was with.

The turmoil in you continued to brew, rising and rising until it was almost overflowing. The image of Mizu with another woman burned into your memory. You wanted to storm in, to make a mess, to ask her how was she able to move on so fast while you...

You were still collecting the pieces of yourself that had fallen apart.

In midst of your thoughts, the woman you were with had grabbed you by the shoulders and pinned you against the wall. "Let me teach you something better." She placed a chaste kiss on your lips before lifting your shirt, placing a trail of kisses from under your bra until she was kneeling down, face-to-face with the button of your jeans, looking up at you.

You sighed, a cloud of smoke escaping your lips before you took another puff from your cigarette. This felt wrong. The idea of hooking up with someone while you were still in love with your ex felt wrong.

"I...I can't do this.." You lightly grabbed her by the chin, moving your hips away from her. A look of confusion flashed on her face before she moved slightly closer. "Oh c'mon, just on–"

"She said back off," a voice cut her off.

You know where to find me And I know where to look

Before you could even utter a word, a ringed hand had pulled the woman away from you, prompting her to stand up. Deep blue eyes narrowed at her before roughly letting go of the woman's shirt.

"Now get lost."

The woman glared at Mizu, seemingly sizing her up for a fight. But Mizu was tall, well-built, and quite intimidating. Everything you wanted in a person, but clearly not someone you'd want to fight.

A 'tsk' left the woman's lips before she raised a middle finger, storming off. Mizu then turned to you, raising an eyebrow at the cigarette between your fingers. "I thought you didn't smoke?" she scoffed, eyes narrowing at you. " ...And blues? Really?"

You merely stared at her, unable to form a word. Maybe it was the alcohol or the nicotine making your brain lag but there was only one thing running through your mind: She was here. She was with you. She pushed a woman away from you. She was questioning why you were smoking. She..She..She...

Shit.

She was here. In front of you.

Mizu's eyes narrowed further at your lack of response. "What?" She moved closer to you, towering over you. The distance between the two of you was so small, it was like she was suffocating you against the wall.

"Why are you here?" you asked trying to keep yourself calm, breathing the smoke out through your nose. She glanced away for a moment, looking a bit guilty before turning back to you. "I...Akemi told me she saw you here."

Your eyes widened in surprise. You expected her to be with Akemi, but you didn't expect her to come just because Akemi told her you were here. "And that matters why?" you asked, eyes now narrowing.

She sighed and moved away a bit, more of the guilt appearing on her face. "I wanted to see you."

The beating of your heart increased as you looked at her. She wanted to see you? Why? You dropped the cigarette you were smoking before stepping on it, grinding the heel of your foot on it more than you needed before looking up at her. "You're joking," you said in a serious tone, looking intensely at her.

"I'm not I–" She was quickly cut off with you giving her a shove. "I saw you with that woman. I'm not stupid, Mizu."

She looked at you for a moment, clearly puzzled which made the rage in you boil much more. "The woman you were with. The one play with your rings. My rings." You clenched fist as you shoved her once more, glaring at her.

Your eyes started tearing up and you began smacking her arm, a mix of your emotions and alcohol making you lose all inhibitions. "You have no idea how much pain I've been in because of you! All I wanted was for you to be there for me and you fucking left me!" she yelled, your careless smacking progressively getting more forceful.

"Then, when I'm finally trying to find some fucking peace for myself, you waltz in with some woman and act all chummy chummy buddy buddy in front of me?! And now you expect me to fucking talk to you and welcome you back?! I'm not a fucking idiot, you motherfucking bi–" She cut you off by placing you in a loose headlock and shoving a hand over your mouth, glaring at you.

"You mean Kaji's daughter," she stated calmly, letting you go once you stopped thrashing around, clearly confused. "Oh for fuck's sake–Akemi's friend. She asked me to pick her up as payment for telling me where you are." she groaned, rubbing an annoyed hand across her face.

Oh.

You still glared at her before looking away, shoulders slumping. "Well why didn't you say so earlier?" you asked, frowning at her. She looked at you with mild annoyance, wanting to argue that you were too busy smacking the shit out of her arm, before suddenly chuckling. The annoyance melting into fondness and amusement, Damn, she missed you like this.

Her arms gently wrapped around you, pulling you closer as she buried her nose against your hair. "I miss you," she mumbled, closing her eyes. You couldn't help but freeze before finally softening up and sobbing, leaning closer to her. "Why'd you leave me?" you sobbed softly against her shoulder.

Her throat tightened at the sound of your crying and sniffling. Making you cry was the last thing ever wanted to do. "I was wrong. I thought we both needed a break from each other but I...I ended up missing you," she sighed out, holding you tighter. "I guess I took you for granted and I'm regretting it so much. I'll do anything to get you back." A hand wiped your tears away before lifting your chin up. "I'm sorry.."

You looked at her, gulping the lump in your throat. The apology was so silly to you. Mizu apologizing to you in such a horribly put together yet sincere way was not something you expected to see and it amused you. "Just kiss me, you fool." you giggled before pulling her head down and planting your lips together.

She kissed you back almost immediately, placing a hand behind your head and the other on the small of your back, pulling you closer than ever. It felt so good to be held like this again. To have Mizu in your arms and you in her's. The kiss deepened as your tongues explored each other's mouth before pulling away, a thin line of saliva connecting your lips.

Without another word, you knelt down in front of her, hands clumsily unzipping her pants. "W-Wait." She pushed your head back gently, covering the lower half of her face with her hand to cover her blush. "What's wrong?" you asked, looking up at her.

"I don't think I deserve to be treated like this right now especially after what–" You cut her off by continuing to undo her pants and pulling it down along with her panties slightly. Your nose buried itself against her bush, making both of you groan, her's slightly louder.

Using your thumb, you spread her folds open before sticking out your tongue and giving her cunt a long slow lick, relishing the moan that came from her. Despite being such a quiet person, Mizu really was loud when it came to intimacy.

The hand she previously used to push your head away was now gripping your hair, encouraging you but not pushing you. You began licking her clit slowly, drawing circles with the tip of your tongue and flicking it occasionally. Your other hand gathered the wetness that slowly dripping out of her, using it to coat your fingers before slowly pushing it in her hole.

Her grip on your hair tightened as her face scrunched up in pleasure, moaning loudly as she leaned back against the wall. You curled your fingers inside her, massaging that area you knew made her see stars. "Fuck, dove...y-you're so fucking good at this," she moaned out, bucking her hips closer to you.

You smiled against her cunt before giving her another long and slow lick, sucking the bundle of nerves towards the end. Your eyes looked up at her as your tongue began licking her clit faster. She was panting and moaning loudly, blue eyes half-lidded, and a dust of pink covering her cheeks.

"'m so close...holy shit," she moaned almost desperately, hand now pushing you closer. With her head tossed back slightly, she climaxed onto your fingers, letting our a loud choked back moan against the back of her hand.

She panted for a bit before looking at you as you pulled your fingers out slowly. You stared back at her, gazing into her blue eyes as you licked the cum off of your fingers slowly, sucking on it before releasing it with a wet pop. "Good girl..." she panted out before pushing herself off of the wall and pulling her pants up.

As soon as you stood up, she looked at you with a soft gaze before pulling you closer to give you a soft kiss on the forehead. "I guess...we're back together now?" you asked, intertwining your hand with hers, walking out of the alley together. "'m kinda glad you took me away from that woman earlier though," you laughed.

"Kinda feels like thievin' or stealing," you added. An amused grunt left Mizu's throat before she placed a short sweet kiss on your lips.

"Just felt like taking what's not mine," she mumbled against your lips.

That's thievin', stealin', takin' what's not yours

[jflemings]

— dancing shadows

pairing: jessie fleming x reader

synopsis: jessie’s made her move to the nwsl but she can’t move on from you

warnings: angst, implications of sex

a/n: there’s no part 2 bc i like a cliffhanger

Shadows of us are still dancin'

In every room and every hall

jessie stirs her coffee gently. her new kitchen is littered with half packed boxes and hope, a lavender and honey scented candle burns in the centre of the countertop, the flickering flame taunting her as if it knows all her secrets. she’s dressed in her new portland thorns training kit with her hair tied back into a neat pony tail and her boots sitting on top of her training bag.

she breathes in deeply and sips her coffee in the silence. she’s done her best to settle, to make this still somewhat empty house feel like home, but she knows that it takes more than her favourite blend of coffee, a candle and a routine to do that.

the truth was that she hadn’t been sleeping well since moving. at first she could point the finger at jet lag and timezone differences but that excuse only went so far. she’d spent her nights tossing and turning in an attempt to just let sleep overtake her before she’d wake up every so often and have to remind herself where she was. she’d get up, get a glass of cold water and take herself back to bed to repeat the cycle of broken sleep until her alarm woke her up in the morning.

nothing had changed until jessie swore she saw your shadow dancing down her hallway late one night.

it was silly, just her eyes playing tricks on her, but for a fleeting moment she could swear that you were right there with her. if she was anymore sleep deprived the midfielder probably would’ve heard your soft giggle echoing off the walls like a sweet melody demanding to be listened to.

the morning after she dug through a box and pulled out the candle you got her as a christmas present two years prior. it was an expensive one, definitely costing more than it’s worth, but you didn’t care. you just wanted jess to have something small, something nice that she could enjoy by herself. she decided to only burn it on special occasions or the night before an important game, like a good luck charm or an offering to the universe.

it now serves as an offering to you and your soul that has followed her across the pond. before, she would spend her nights breathlessly saying your name like a prayer and offering her body instead of a scented candle. nights when her cream coloured curtains would block out the world outside the sanctuary you had made for yourselves whilst tangled in bedsheets.

she finishes her coffee and rinses the porcelain mug, turning it upside down and placing it in the sink before grabbing her training bag and car keys, and blowing out the candle.

the smell of lavender and honey follows her out the door.

You thought that it would wash away

The bitter taste of my fury

And all of the messes you made

she knows that you had been almost furious with her when she left, your eyes betraying the too-wode smile that had been plastered on your face as she stood in front of the team and began to say her goodbyes. jessie understood why you were mad. you had found out at the same time as everyone else that she was leaving, something that she knew you would deem as an act of betrayal.

the two of you weren’t anything official but all the players and staff knew that you only had eyes for eachother. it was something special, like the fates themselves had brought the pair of you together. you both made your debut for chelsea during the same game and had ended up living just two streets apart, something that the two of you figured out after celebratory drinks with the team.

she had let the guilt eat her alive until you’d shown up at her door with more questions than jessie had answers. instead, she took you to bed and apologised with pleasure rather than the explanation that you deserved.

the next morning the canadian awoke to an empty bed and a bitter taste in her mouth.

You'll see my face in every place

But you can't catch me now

you were everywhere.

people couldn’t stop talking about you and how seamlessly you had adjusted to jessie’s departure, in more ways than one.

on the pitch you were bagging assists and executing flawless tackles, but off it you were the subject of many romantic rumours. players from both chelsea and your national team had been romantically linked to you, fan pages and media outlets alike claiming to see you getting too cozy with someone new every other month.

first it was guro, then it was mccabe, followed by alanna kennedy and other countless players that you were so obviously friends with. it infuriated jessie to no end. she had become a mere outsider getting insight into your life through word of mouth and lies.

“jess you can’t get caught up in that shit” christine huffs “it’s all worthless anyway”

“i can’t escape it” jessie defends quietly “she’s everywhere”

christine’s face softens, her light eyes conveying a mix of both worry and pity for her young teammate. she pats jessie on the shoulder comfortingly “she was always going to be”

Through wading grass, the months will pass

You'll feel it all around

I'm here, I'm there, I'm everywhere

But you can't catch me now

your lingering presence weighs heavily on jessie’s shoulders as she sits on the grass of the portland thorns training ground. the sun kisses her face similarly to how you used too: with warmth and steadiness. she throws her head back and picks at the blades of grass under her, not noticing her long time teammate and friend approaching.

sinc sits down quietly, bending her knees and leaning her elbows on them as she waits for jessie to either acknowledge her or begin to tell her what’s on her mind.

jessie keeps her eyes shut and leans back on her hands “i’m sleeping a lot better, if that’s what you were going to ask”

the older woman smiles “when did you start being able to read people with your eyes closed”

jessie pauses for a moment and opens her eyes, looking directly at christine’s face “i can’t” she says quietly “i just know you’ve been telling janine you’re worried”

sinc purses her lips silently, twirling two blades of grass between her fingers. the veteran’s presence is strong and solid, like an immovable force that can’t be ignored. she sighs “healing takes time jess. especially after a breakup”

“we didn’t break up. we weren’t together” jessie mumbles “not officially, anyway”

“it’s still going to hurt”

the young midfielder nods her head slowly “i can’t escape the feeling of her” she admits quietly, like a small child telling a secret. all of her attention is now focused on her feet in front of her rather than the teammate next to her, not daring to look sinc in the eyes.

“what do you mean?”

jessie hesitates for a moment as she gathers her words “…she’s not even in the country and i still feel like she’s around every corner. it’s like i can feel she’s still mad at me for leaving”

christine sighs and cocks her head “she’s not mad, jess”

“she was”

“yeah, because you didn’t tell her you were moving” sinc says pointedly, making jessie frown “but that was then. this is now.”

jess once again looks up to the sky with her eyes closed, sighing deeply “she won’t call me back”

the two canadians hear footsteps walking back out to the training pitch, popping their small bubble of vulnerability that they have created. the breeze carry’s the light chatter of the rest of their team and the two of them can’t help but smile when they hear janine’s all too familiar laugh get closer.

“she will one day”

Yeah, sometimes the fire you founded

Don't burn the way you'd expect

the way your relationship had gone wasn’t what jessie had expected or intended when the two of you first started seeing eachother.

she supposes that it’s partly her fault. you two were never explicitly together, and you hadn’t had a conversation about not seeing other people, but jessie just couldn’t find the right time. she was constantly so caught up in everything that you were that she wasn’t even focused on the fact that you weren’t really hers.

the more time she spends basking in the new life she’s forging for herself the more she regrets not making it the right time.

because you weren’t together, you hadn’t broken up. the pair of you hadn’t sat down and said ‘this is the end’, she simply just up and left without much warning.

now, she sits in her bedroom that feels more like hers than it did before, clutching one of your worn oversized band t-shirts that she hadn’t realised she’d packed. she runs her fingers over the soft material thinking about the night she’d acquired it.

the tv in your bedroom acts as background noise as jessie lays in your lap, her eyes opening and closing slowly as she attempts to fight off sleep’s warm embrace.

you card your fingers through her hair, wrapping one of her loose curls around your finger “just stay the night, i don’t want you driving home if you’re tired”

“m’ not tired” she mumbles

you half chuckle softly “you’re trying not to fall asleep in my lap jess. you’re tired”

she turns over so that her face is now tucked into your stomach, subconsciously burying herself further into you as she does so. she lazily smiles against your abdomen and wraps a hand around your lower back, inhaling your scent.

“i’ll stay”

“you’ve got no choice” you say quietly before tapping her thigh twice “c’mon let me get up”

jessie groans and holds you tighter “no”

you roll your eyes and gently begin to get up so that she’s forced to let you go. she does so reluctantly, letting you place her back down onto the plush mattress below. she can hear you opening and closing drawers but still makes no effort to move, obviously still comfortable where she is.

the bed dips as you place your knee on it and lean over her, brushing stray hairs out of her face before kissing her forehead lightly “let’s get you out of these clothes”

the canadian rolls over to look at you leaning over her. her honey brown eyes are droopy and barely open but you know that she’s not going to like waking up in the morning in the same clothes she was wearing the day before. pulling her up gently, you place a t-shirt down next to her and grab the hem of the one she’s got on.

“you eager to get me in your bed, l/n?”

“you’re already in my bed fleming” you say smiling as she puts her arms up

“y’know what i mean”

in one swift motion her shirt comes off and you place your finger tips under her sports bra ready to take that off too. she does so herself, her arms flexing as she pulls the material off and throws it somewhere across your room before putting her arms back up.

the oversized band tee falls over her body nicely and you quickly move the covers down to take off her jeans. your fingers make quick work of undoing her button and zipper before she lifts her hips up to help you shimmy off the denim.

“now who’s eager?” you say teasingly

she smiles at you and flops back down once you’ve discarded her jeans, snuggling her face into your pillow and inhaling “still you”

jessie balls the fabric up in her hands and brings it to her nose, breathing in the fading scent of you that has miraculously lasted the trip. a stray tear falls from her eye at the memory of the two of you, the reality of what waiting for the right moment resulted in setting in heavily.

Yeah, you thought that this was the end

she’s sitting in janine’s living room when the instagram post shows up on her feed.

the announcement stares jessie in the face, a haunted look in her eye as she traces your features. she can’t tell if she’s about to get up and run straight out of janine’s house or call niamh and unleash a string of confused curses at her best friend.

this was the last thing she had expected to see, and it was throwing her for a loop.

jessie throws her phone carelessly next to her onto the couch, not daring to look her teammate in the eye as she curiously picks up the device.

a pregnant silence overtakes the room and janine’s eyes are wide with both concern and confusion when she looks back to jessie.

y/n l/n joins angel city fc

[blueberrybeomgyu]

୨⎯ "insomnia" ⎯୧ (lcy)

+*:🍓:*﹤descrip. : you help anton after a rough, sleepless week

+*:💗:*﹤content : sub!anton x fem!reader/dom!reader (i think), smut, roommates/friends to lovers

+*:🫐:*﹤warnings : 18+, so mdni 🤞(there are some really bad words in here), unprotected sex bc i forgot to add any </3 (please use protection), edging, wet dreams, overstim kinda, palming over clothes, blowjob, light nipple touching, petname babyboy, anton calls reader noona, vaginal penetration, female anatomy for reader, clit rubbing

+*:🧺:*﹤word count: 5.0K

+*:🤎:*﹤author's note : pls lmk if i missed any tags i should add! this is my first ff so it's lacking, but i tried my best to fix up any obvious plotholes!! i'm a year older than anton so i just made y/n older as well <3 this story switches povs bc im unprofessional, lastly this was cross-posted on ao3!!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Anton can't sleep. 

He tosses and turns just to wake up two hours later, hot, sweaty, and heaving. He writes it off as having nightmares, but that doesn’t explain the hard-ons he always has. He considers getting one off to help him relax, and that works for the first two nights. Then, in the days that follow, it's like no matter how long he goes at it, getting himself all whiny and desperate, he can't cum. That realization only makes it harder to stay asleep, lucky if he dozes off for forty minutes. 

It's so aggravating. During lecture, he can barely keep his eyes open, but when his head hits the pillow, it's like he can't shut his mind up. 

Tonight, he gives up around 1 AM after going in and out of sleep for an entire hour. He's restless but exhausted, and his mood is shot when you walk in the apartment. You had a long shift, so you can’t wait to snuggle in bed and watch a couple of comfort movies. You stop by the kitchen on your way to your room, unable to ignore your roommate's quiet grumbles. 

“Anton?” You call out, but his back is turned toward you, and he's still mumbling to himself, fiddling with a container.

“Sweetheart, is everything alright?” You ask, placing an arm on his shoulder and gently turning him toward you. 

“m fine, can't get this stupid box open.” He mumbles grumpily. In his hands, a box of hot cocoa packets is bent out of shape. You look at him in question (how did he bend the box like that? They aren't hard to open), but your attention is instead drawn to his features.

To put it short, he looks terrible. His eyes are puffy and red like he's been crying, his hair is tangled like he hasn't brushed it in days, and his oversized shirt is hanging off his shoulder, wrinkled and stretched out like he’s been pulling at it.

“Do you need help?” You reach for the box, but he moves out of your way, tucking the box to himself protectively as he continues struggling with it.

Anton knows he looks stupid, struggling to open this goddamn box, but ever since his problem of not getting off started, he hasn't been able to look you in the eyes. Every time you guys make eye contact, he feels ashamed.

What’s frustrating is that he doesn’t know why. You're beautiful, and he can't lie and say he's not attracted to you, but he's never thought about you in a sexual way, because he’s put in great effort to not do so.

So why is it hard to be around you all of a sudden? He can’t help but feel sad about the circumstances, as he was enjoying the friendship you two had been building for the past three months.

“I got it.” He mutters again, tone sharp and stern. You watch him for a couple seconds and conclude that he doesn't in fact have it.

“Are you sure, Toni? I can-”

“I said I've got it.” He snaps, voices suddenly raised and face scrunched up in annoyance. You slightly flinch at his outburst, a wave of your own irritation washing over you. 

“Excuse me?” You ask, offended by his tone. His face falls and he turns away from you again. Seconds later, his shoulders begin to shake with his sobs. 

He wishes you would leave him alone, because having your eyes on him makes him feel things he can’t explain. He just wants to have some hot cocoa, get off, then go the fuck to sleep. 

“Oh, Toni.” You coo, mood softening as you begin rubbing his back. “What's the matter?”

You and Anton aren’t extremely close, and not by lack of trying. You’re so attracted to him, but love being his friend and don’t want to mess it up by asking him out. Despite that, you've never seen him in this state before. His usually cheerful, even charismatic personality is completely gone, turned into something snappy and miserable. 

“I'm so tired.” He says, his voice shaky and so quiet you almost don’t hear him. The palms of his hands come to rub his eyes aggressively. “Can't sleep, no matter what I do.”

You wonder how long he had to be in this state to be acting like this, feeling a bit guilty that you hadn't noticed the signs earlier. You think for a second about how to help. 

“I was going to go watch some movies in bed.” You offer after a few moments of silence. “Do you want to join me? It might be nice to have some company for a little bit.” 

He lowers his hands from his eyes and thinks about your offer. You guys have huddled in bed for movies before, so it isn’t a wild suggestion, and your bed is always so warm, multiple blankets and plushies adding extra cushion. He turns around, ignoring the heavy feeling he gets from looking at you.

“Here, I'll even make this for you.” You gently remove the box from his hands, ripping its cardboard flap and opening it with ease. He looks at you in surprise for a second, then nods. 

“Okay, why don't you go get settled and I'll be there in a minute?” 

He pads softly to your room, shoulders slumped and feet dragging.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Anton is buried underneath your duvet and blankets, only his eyes up to his forehead visible when you walk into your bedroom. 

“Comfy, are we?” You ask with a light chuckle, reaching out to hand him his cocoa. He sits up in bed and takes the mug. After changing into pajamas in the bathroom, you settle into your own space and pull up a selection of movies on your phone. 

“How's The Cat Returns?” You ask, watching as he downs the drink and snuggles back into the sheets. 

“Fine.” He mumbles, eyes droopy. You feel bad for him again, hoping he'll be able to get some sleep tonight.

You get through that and a third of Coraline when you hear Anton huff loudly. You glance down to see that he's snuggled up by your chest, eyes shut and breath even. He’s never slept in your bed before, but you don’t want to wake him up from some much needed rest. You take a moment to appreciate his beauty. In the glow from your bedside lamp, you can see his rosy cheeks and furrowed eyebrows, and your heart swells with fondness. Maybe this will make you guys even closer. You smile in triumph and continue the movie. 

Ten minutes later, you hear it. You ignore it the first time, but it happens again soon after. Anton lets out a faint whimper. For a second, you think he's talking to you, but he doesn't respond when you call out his name. Instead, he full-on moans. 

“N-noona.” He mumbles. The blankets have fallen from his chest and pooled around his pelvis, and you see his hips twitch slightly. “Please…”

Was he…having a wet dream?

Surely not, you tell yourself. The circumstances of this happening are quite unlikely. 

“Y/N…need you.” He whines quietly, and your eyes jump to the size of saucers. 

He was having a wet dream about you?!

Your cheeks heat up, feeling flattered but scandalized. He doesn't say anything else, but his breath picks up rapidly, becoming more choked off as it progresses. Seconds later, he jerks awake, gasping and panting, his fingers tangled into the blankets. You watch as he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to slow down his breath. Then, he opens them again and looks up from your chest. 

“Oh, Noona, did I wake you? I'm sorry.” He asks, voice thick and words slurred.

You ignore the way hearing him call you that now makes you hot all over, arousal manifesting in your panties. He sits up with messy hair and puffy cheeks. Is he just going to pretend like he wasn't dreaming about you? 

“What?” You scoff, a smile tugging at your lips. You can't help but laugh at how weird this situation was.

“Sorry for disturbing you, I'll head back to my room now.” You watch in disbelief as he sluggishly stands up from the bed and not-so subtly covers his boner with his large shirt.

The truth is, Anton can't wait to get out of your vicinity. Your scent is stuck to his clothes, and he doesn't know why he likes it so much. That shameful feeling is back, and he wants it off his skin.

“Wait, Anton.” You call out, dropping your phone on the sheets and just barely catching his wrist.

Shit. He turns back to you, eyes falling to your mouth, and he could've sworn you were almost…smirking?

“Did you get to sleep?” You ask, but your eyes lack genuine curiosity.

“Oh, yeah, I guess I did.” He answers awkwardly, looking everywhere but your eyes. He’s so cute, and his nervousness makes you feel empowered.

“What did you dream about?” 

“What?” He looks at you finally with a look of confusion.

“Dreams? Did you have any?” You slowly lead him to sit back down. He follows easily, pulled back onto your soft, comfortable blankets.

“Uhm, no, not that I remember.” 

“You can't remember what you dreamt about?” You ask, incredulous. He looks away for a second, thinking, then turns back to you and shakes his head. 

“I think I've been having nightmares a lot recently. I keep waking up on the verge of a panic attack.” He explains. You hum in contemplation. You can’t help but wonder if any more of these “nightmares” have actually been wet dreams, and if so, how many of them have been about you. 

Slowly, your hand trailed along his thigh, and you delight in the sound of his breath hitching. His body is tense, eyes looking at you in question. “But that's alright, I guess I don't w-want to if they were that scary.” He stutters as your hand trails higher and higher. You’re giving him a sultry look, and he wonders if this is going where he thinks it’s going, and is surprised to realize maybe he wants it to go there, despite it being so sudden.

“That's interesting, because I think I know what you dreamt about, and why you can't get to sleep.” You say, circling your finger around a spot right on his hip. They twitch under your touch, and you almost coo again watching him try to restrain himself. 

You’re not sure where you suddenly got the nerve to act like this, but you say to hell with it. You’ve been harboring a crush on him ever since you became his roommate, and he obviously shares the same desire, if his subconscious is anything to go off of. His shy demeanor only makes you more confident. You move on from his hip and slide a hand up his loose shirt.

Anton’s almost relieved by your statement—he wants almost nothing more than to have a full night's rest—but he finds it hard to focus on your words as your nails lightly scrape his skin. His eyelids flutter prettily.

“When was the last time you came?” You ask abruptly, causing Anton’s eyes to snap open.

“I’m sorry?”

“You likely can't go to sleep because you're so tense. When you do, you can't stay asleep because you keep having wet dreams about me that eventually wake you back up.” You’re not sure if the last part is true, but that’s your working theory. You watch as he struggles to comprehend your statement as you graze a couple of fingers over his nipple, voice catching in a gasp. 

“What are you talking about? I'm not even having inappropriate thoughts about you.” He defends, because he tries so hard to not have inappropriate thoughts about you. He doesn’t want to be a pervert and take advantage of the friendship you guys have, so he pushes away any sexual thoughts that creep up in his mind. Sometimes it’s so hard, but he values your company so much, and doesn’t want to upset you.

“Oh, yeah? So when you moaned, ‘Y/N noona, I need you’ in your sleep, you weren't having inappropriate thoughts about me?” You ask, over-exaggerating the way he moaned. His eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of you tugging on his nipple, then you trail your hand back down to lightly trace his bulge. His hips lift towards your hand, and you pull it away. 

Even in his aroused, half-asleep mind, your words make sense. Why he feels shame looking at you, why he’s always rock solid when he wakes up. It’s not a far fetch to think he’s been having sexual dreams, nor is it to wonder if those dreams are about you, since you’re the only person he’s been attracted to lately. 

You wrap your hand around his member through his pants, snatching him out of his thoughts. 

“F-fuck.” He gasps quietly, surprised at your actions. “What are you doing?”

“Did you think you could get off on the thought of me and I wouldn't take up the opportunity to finally fuck you?” 

Questions swim around in his head. Have you been wanting to have sex with him? You’ve been thinking about him inappropriately this whole time? The mere idea of you finding him attractive gets him even more hot and bothered, but he has no time to dwell on these thoughts once you start palming him roughly through his sweatpants.

“Oh, g-god.” He whimpers out after a few minutes, hips finally bucking into your touch. “Please, ‘m close.” His breath quickens again, uneven and harsh like it was in his sleep. His cheeks are dusted with baby pink, embarrassed about how close he’s gotten so quick, but he can’t help it. You’re so beautiful and you’re touching him and he’s realizing maybe his feelings are bigger than he previously thought. 

“You're gonna cum from humping my hand?” You ask, unimpressed. “We haven’t even started yet.”

Your words make him feel like he’s being boiled alive. Part of him can’t believe this is happening, but he’s so desperate to please you. Anton gasps, pushing his hips back onto the blankets to get away from the stimulation.

“Please, stop. Wanna last.” He begs. He’s so cute, all weak and compliant, and you want to tease him more, see how long he holds out, but you can tell how much he wants to last, so you relent. He mumbles weak “thank you”s as he comes from the edge, and once his breathing returns to normal, you straddle him. He opens his eyes and looks at you in question, audibly gulping when he sees your dark, hungry gaze. He starts a sentence, but you cut him off as you grind your cunt against his member. 

“God, Y/N.” He groans, throwing his head back into the pillows. 

“Sorry, you were saying?” You ask, giggling meanly. You keep the movement up, building a rhythm while watching him struggle to string words together.

“I can’t– ahh– can’t believe t-this is happening.” He manages, interrupted by a particularly rough grind. For a second, his head catches on the opening of your cunt, and even through two layers of clothing, the feeling has him reeling.

“Hm.” You sigh into the feeling and accept the fact that you were gonna have to throw these underwear away. “Why’s that?”

“You’re so pretty a-and nice and– Fuck, fuck, need you, please.” He whimpers out, echoing the words he spoke while asleep. You take in the sight of him, and he just looks so beautiful, brown hair fanning out beneath him. His lips are red from him biting them, and you can’t resist the temptation to lean down and kiss him. He tastes a little like the cocoa he had earlier.

It starts out slow, Anton taking a couple of seconds to comprehend the situation, overcome his shock, and actually kiss you back. Then it becomes more of him panting against your mouth, hips jerking erratically under your weight.

You still don’t want him to finish just yet, so you lift off of him and ignore the displeased whine he lets out. You pull his sweatpants off slowly while lightly scratching the skin of his thighs, reveling in the sharp gasp he takes. He’s so responsive, so fun to play with.

“Oh,” You whisper, shocked to realize he’s not wearing underwear. “So what’s this? Were you expecting to come in here and get your dick wet?” You ask in disbelief, eyeing his cock. It’s about average, but thick, and just thinking about having that in you has your pussy throbbing. You’re just teasing, but your words break Anton into a cold sweat. 

“N-no! No– these are m-my pajamas.” He explains desperately, words clipping off into a whine as you lift his hard cock with two fingers then let it flop back down. You can’t help but be mesmerized by it. It was a deep shade of pink, almost red, and a white bead of precum was forming at the tip. You unconsciously lick your lips at the sight. You professionally move on from the fact that Anton doesn’t sleep with underwear on in favor of running your tongue across the slit of Anton’s dick.

He let out a choked sound and his hips jerk violently, but you’re able to back up before his penis collides with your nose. 

“Toni, if you want me to touch you here, you have to be still.” You warn, one hand coming to rest on his hip.

“Sorry, sorry, I can do that. I can-” His rambling is cut off by you taking his entire head into your mouth. “Shit, shit, I– ‘m.” His hands come to tangle into your hair, but you pull off of his dick and place his arms back by his side. You don’t say anything, but you’re sure he gets the command.

“Gonna cum already, baby boy?” You ask teasingly, rubbing his wrists gently. His breath hitches at the pet name, and you make a mental note to revisit that later.

“No,” he mumbles defensively. Your eyebrow lifts in suspicion, but you take his word for it.

“If you get close, let me know, okay?” You hold eye contact while saying it, and he responds with a nod. “No, baby. Answer with your words. Can you do that for me?”

“I’ll let you know, promise.” He says, nodding quickly, so desperate to get your mouth back on his dick. You’re not sure how much you believe him, but you oblige, slowly taking his member into your mouth inch by inch. Since he’s on the shorter side, it doesn’t take long for you to bottom out, his tip barely even reaching the back of your throat, but he’s hot and heavy on your tongue.

You wait and adjust for a second then begin a pace. Under you, Anton doesn’t say anything, the only communication being his gasps and grunts. You can tell he’s close by the way his hips stutter, desperate to buck up into the wet heat, but still, he doesn’t say anything. You pull off his dick to instead suck at the head, tongue sliding across and dipping into the slit. Almost immediately, Anton verbally explodes.

“Stop! Stop, please– too much, ahh–” He rambles, stuttering around portions of a sentence. He’s so embarrassed, but it’s not his fault you’re playing his body like a fiddle. 

You love the sound of him begging, so you keep up the ministrations a bit longer until his whines are so loud that he’s practically screaming, squirming on your blankets. You pull off again and rub up and down his thighs slowly. He gasps and pants as he comes down, so tense, and his cock is even more red, twitching as a steady stream of precum leaks out of the tip. It’s so vulgar that it almost drives you insane, and you’re starting to think you’re gonna lose it if you don’t sit on his cock in the next few minutes, but you push through it.

“Aw, that looks like it hurts. Want me to help you, or should I just leave you like this?” You ask, rubbing lightly at the head. In Anton’s sleep-deprived, sexually frustrated mind, he can’t see how much you want him, how you’re just as desperate as he is, and thinks you’re serious.

“No, please, please, don’t leave me, it hurts so bad.” His hips jump lightly, drawing your attention to his member in an effort to prove his point. “I can’t–can’t get off alone, need you.” He can’t even fathom the thought of you leaving him like this, tender and submissive and so, so hard. 

You can’t help but coo at that. You slip your pajamas and underwear, as well as his shirt, off, then straddle him again. You grind your cunt against his member again, this time without the barrier of clothing. Before he can beg, you crash your lips into his, swallowing any small sounds that try to escape. 

You kiss him until your lips hurt, making up for all the time you spent silently pining after him, not knowing he wanted you just as bad. When you pull away, he’s struggling to catch his breath and looking at you like you hung the stars. 

“You’re s-so stunning, I c-can’t believe you l-like me.” He mumbles through stuttered breaths. His hands lay awkwardly by his sides, and you lift them up to rest on your hips. His thumbs rub circles into them shyly, which causes your heart to swell up.

“How could I not like you, sweet boy? You’re so handsome and smart, so caring.” You run your hand through his tangled hair, gently undoing a couple of knots as you remember the traits and quirks that made you like him from the beginning. He practically melts into your touch and praise, but you’re not done with him just yet. You raise your hips and lean into his ear.

“You’ve been such a good boy, do you want me to fuck you now?” You barely get the question out before he’s nodding again, all eager at the idea of finally feeling your walls against his cock. 

Anton watches with slow, bated breath as you line your opening up with his length, but then you actually take it in, bottoming out with no hesitation, and his eyes roll into his head. He screams, but the sound is muffled due to his teeth trapping his bottom lip. You sigh in pleasure while letting yourself adjust to the feeling, then study his features as you clench around his dick.

His eyebrows furrow, and he lets out another high-pitched keen, and you’re mesmerized by his beauty. Anton’s grip on your hips tightens as you lift up and slide back down, but you feel a bit annoyed that his eyes remain closed. 

“Look at me, Toni.” You request, hands resting on his chest to support your weight. His eyes barely open, fluttering like it’s a struggle, and you can't help but think again that he’s just so cute. You want to destroy him.

“Good job.” You praise and graze his nipples with your fingers. His hips jerk at the sensation, pushing himself deeper into you, and you squeeze your eyes shut momentarily as a wave of pleasure washes over you. You breathe through it in an attempt to hold on to some sanity. On the next inhale, you pick up the pace, sliding his length in and out of you rapidly. 

“Oh, oh god- fuck, th-that’s so good, you’re so good.” Anton rambles, his voice strained and high-pitched in a way you’ve never heard before. You’re instantly obsessed with the sound and make a tsk-ing noise when he bites his bottom lip. You lift your hand off of his chest and squish his cheeks. His bottom lip juts out in a forced pout.

“None of that, baby boy. I wanna hear you.”

“-t’s embarrassing.” He mumbles weakly, which tapers off into another moan as you sink down fully and roll your hips. You throw your head back, feeling his thick size touch you in places you’ve never reached. You pick up a rhythm of sliding him in and out of you a couple of times then bottoming out and rolling your hips.

“Damn, Anton. You f-feel amazing.” You moan, stuttering when his hips buck into your own. You look back at him and his eyes are still open, and he’s giving you that look again, the one that makes you want to shy away under all of that adoration. Before you can, he throws his head back, baring his pretty, flushed neck as another high-pitched noise rips its way out of his throat. 

“F-fuck, -m so-sorry, can’t look– gonna cum, I’m–” 

You still on his lap and ignore the frustrated noise he lets out. Next to his ear, you whisper, “Not yet, Toni. Don’t you want to make me feel good too?”

He nods dumbly, unaware of how good he’s already making you feel. His eyes are empty and glossed over as you guide his hand to your clit. He rubs it experimentally, and your pleased sigh has him speeding up a bit, pressing a little harder to hear more of those sounds from you. 

His entire body is tense and burning hot, so close to the release he’s been chasing for a week, and watching your beautiful body react to his touch only makes it worse. He wants to get you there first, but when you roll your hips down again, he doesn’t think he can do it.

“P-please don’t move, please, please.” He begs, words slurring and eyes shining with desperation. He’s so deeply submitted to you that it’s almost unbearable, and you have the sudden need to please him, make him cum so hard he forgets his name, then kiss him to sleep. You support your weight with your shaky arms and lift your hips up.

“Fuck me, baby. Don’t you wanna cum?” You ask, putting on your sweetest voice for him. 

“Fuck yeah, yes, need it.” Anton grunts out. He wraps your arms around his neck and grips your hips tightly before roughly thrusting into your cunt. 

“Oh, fuck, Toni–” You gasp out with your face burried in his neck. His desperation shows through his lack of rhythm, his strokes uneven and harsh. He’s hitting your sweet spot so aggressively it feels like you might lose your mind, then his hand comes to rub your clit again, the grip on your waist strong enough to hold you up with one hand. 

“Oh, god. Cum, please cum, I-I can’t hold it.” He begs, words interlaced with keens and gasps. Despite your previous permission, he’s still so desperate to please you, even with wet cheeks and eyebrows furrowed in agony. The sight, the feeling of him pounding into your sweet spot, and the harsh, uneven rubbing on your clit sends you into overdrive. You cum so hard your hearing almost goes out, but you can faintly make out his muffled screams, and you feel him cream in you, hot fluids spilling back over his cock as he works himself through it. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Eventually, the air stills, and for the first time in hours, Anton’s tense body fully relaxes, his bones melding into your pillows. You lift off of him to let him fully catch his breath, and slip into the bathroom. His eyes are closed when you return, and flutter open when he feels something warm and wet touch his skin. 

You’re clean now, having wiped yourself down in the bathroom, and he’s silent as you clean him up as well. His blinks are slow like his eyelids are heavy, and you’re overwhelmed with the desire to leave kisses all over his puffy cheeks. 

You put discarded clothing as well as any dirty blankets in your laundry basket, then climb under the duvet with him. He’s warm and cozy when you pull him to lay on your chest again.

It’s silent for a few minutes, but you know he’s not asleep, because his breath is irregular.

“...Noona?” He calls out so quietly you’re surprised you hear it, alert to make sure he’s got everything he needs, so you hum in response. 

“Did you mean it? That you think I’m…handsome, and stuff?” He mumbles. His voice is so soft and sweet that you just wanna eat him up, but you don’t wanna disturb his comfort. 

“I meant every word, Anton. I’ve adored you since we met.” You confess while running your fingers through his fluffy, tangled hair. 

Moments of silence pass.

“I think I’ve been denying my crush on you for the past four weeks.” He whispers again, almost uncertain. His words have your heartbeat picking up, the idea of him reciprocating your romantic feelings makes you so happy you could jump on the bed, because you don’t know how you would’ve gone back to being just friends after tonight.

Similar thoughts run through Anton’s mind. He can’t believe he didn’t see his feelings for you sooner. It feels like after a full week, he’s finally able to relax into his skin again. You’re so comforting, and remembering how you took care of him gives him butterflies. Curiously, he looks up at you, and your eyes are staring back at him, as soft and sparkly as they’ve always been. He can’t believe how deep his feelings for you actually run. 

Your lips curl into a big smile, then you're suddenly cupping his cheeks and pressing warm, wet kisses all over his face.

“So cute. You’re so, so cute. I can’t resist any longer.” You say through smooches. He grunts in feigned annoyance, pretending that his heart isn’t threatening to jump out of his chest. You lay him back down, but he still has one question on his mind.

“Noona, w-will you…be my girlfriend?” His uncertain tone is back, despite everything.

“I better be.” You say lightly, half-joking. You continue running your fingers through his hair, and Anton’s eyelids become so heavy that he can’t keep them open despite wanting to stay here in this moment with you. 

You want to be sure before you drift off yourself, so you wait for a few more minutes, and then his breath evens out, and Anton falls asleep.

[bangtanintotheroom]

Model Behavior (M)

Still hooking over Still hooking over and die

• Pairing: Taehyung x Assistant!(F)Reader

• Genre: Idol!AU, Smut

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 3,181

• Summary: Helping with photoshoots brought you stress, excitement and a sense of validation. Today, you experience a new and unexpected emotion, thanks to the man at the center of it all.

• Warnings/themes: the Elle Korea photoshoot 😵‍💫, innocent touching (at first), flirting, eye contact, Tae in the open denim jacket ⚰️, making out, oral (m. receiving), a smidge of soft dom!Tae, Y/N using her teeth 🥴, restraining (with hands), cowgirl, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (a swift talk about BC and STDs is had!)

• Song Inspo: Quick Musical Doodles - Two Feet (Spotify | Soundcloud)

• Notes: When I tell y’all I am TIRED of this man wrecking me 🔪🔪🔪 I didn’t expect all of this from the Elle shoot! It got to me so bad that I started writing the beginning of this in the group chat… 🫣 Thank you to @minisugakoobies @sugalaritae @minttangerines for taking the ride to delulu land with me 💕💕💕 And thanks to @luaspersona for the helpful beta! 😚

• Taglist: @jimilter @joontied @jinsquishes @swweetnightt @minisugakoobies @minttangerines @sugalaritae @crisle19 @codeinebelle @ssaboala @kookprada @saweetspoiled @effielumiere @m1sss1mp

You're an assistant on the set of Elle Korea.

You've always been professional, especially since your position involved sprucing up the model at the time. From damn-near naked to partially covered, the human body never fazed you too much.

Until the day Kim Taehyung stepped into the room.

Your eyes were wandering.

Your responses were delayed.

Every time your fingers brushed against his sun-kissed skin, a spark began and traveled to the pit of your belly. And it didn't help that he had a tendency to look you dead in your eyes whenever you were in front of him.

His dark gaze penetrated you every single time.

But you managed to truck on and the rest of the shoot goes smoothly. Well, aside from the one time you almost missed your cue from the director, thanks to wishing you were the flower sticking out of Taehyung’s waistband.

Just as you were packing your bag, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You thought it was your boss and prayed that they didn't notice your slacking today; you had a cruise to go on next month. Opening your mouth with an apology ready, you spun around, only for it to evaporate.

For it was your distraction standing there.

"Hey. Y/N, right?"

Wait, he actually remembered your name? You were so used to 'the helper' or 'that girl' or 'you there' that the courtesy surprised you.

"Yes...Taehyung, right?"

A smile that lifted his cheeks came over his handsome face.

"That's me. Thank you for your help today, you work quick."

No Y/N, don't shuffle your feet like you're some shy schoolgirl.

Oops. Too late.

"Oh, thanks, but it's kind of what I have to do. If I was slow, I definitely wouldn't be here, haha."

You hoped you didn't sound too self-deprecating there, but it seemed to be okay as Taehyung chuckled.

"You have a point there."

Thinking that he was just coming by to pay his gratitude before moving onto whatever else million-dollar celebrities do, you were caught off-guard when he remained steady. For a few seconds, nothing was said as he continued looking you dead in your eyes.

Fuck, he needed to stop with that. Did he know what kind of power his deep brown orbs had?

"Y/N, listen. I need a bit of a favor before I leave for the day."

You blinked.

"You do? What is it?"

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his tight slacks, making the front of his open denim jacket part further, revealing more of that golden skin you kept eyeing up.

"I really liked these outfits. I wanted to see if you could give me the details on them so I could pass them along to my stylist."

Oh? You could do that. Anything to be around this gorgeous man longer.

"Of course! Just follow me to the fitting area, the bags have all the details."

Taehyung directed a box-like smile at you, nodding. You turned and motioned him to follow you down the hall and past people scurrying by with coffee trays and overflowing binders. Reaching your destination, you walked into the room with him, hearing the door shut behind as you made a beeline for the clothing rack along one of the walls.

You studied the cardstock hanging off of the first garment bag before speaking, "Okay, it looks like the red leather jacket you had was Valentino from the Fall/Winter 2023 collec—"

"Y/N."

You were interrupted by a baritone in close distance to your ear, turning your head to jump at how close Taehyung was standing next to you now.

"Y-Yes?"

His full lips curled into a crooked grin.

"I knew what collection that was from before I even got here."

Huh?

"You did?"

"Mhm."

A hand came up to hold yours, removing it from the paper.

That spark from earlier? Yeah, no, that was nothing, because his long and callused fingers against your smaller and somewhat dry ones lit a damn match inside you. And he only made the fire grow with the way his eyes lidded, looking so close to one of the shots that was taken earlier.

"Just wanted to get you alone."

Oh shit.

The air shifted thanks to his confession. The longer your gazes held, the more you forgot that you were at work.

You definitely shouldn't be alone in a dressing room with a famous idol. You definitely shouldn't be forgetting that anyone could bust in at any moment. You definitely should be reminding yourself about that cruise you still had to pay off. You needed this damn job and—

"Y/N."

A shiver ran through you. Damn, his voice.

"Don't think I didn't notice how you were looking at me the whole time."

Oops.

"I-I'm sorry, Taehyung, I shouldn't have been—"

Whatever else you wanted to say was halted when he pressed one of those appendages to your lips.

"Why are you sorry? You think I made you bring me back here for an apology?"

All you could do was stammer, looking undeniably stupid in front of someone who you deemed untouchable. Realizing you were at a loss for words, Taehyung took the reins and moved his finger before leaning down. You felt his wispy bangs brush against your forehead, eyes still on his smoldering gaze.

"If you're not averse to overtime, I'd like to see what's been running through this pretty head of yours."

Nope. This had to be a dream. Or a setup. Maybe that prick Kwan was trying to get you fired so he could get your position.

But...you didn't want to say no.

Licking your lips, you finally found your voice again.

"I...I don't want to get in trouble."

The idol didn't seem fazed, shoulders shrugging as he laid his hands on your hips.

"What happens in this room, stays in this room."

Ah. Well, that was what you would definitely consider a green light.

So you gave your own answer by grabbing the lapels of his jacket, tugging him in for a heated kiss. The next few moments were a blur.

There were hands roaming. His over your comfortable clothes that were starting to feel restrictive over time. Yours going straight for the warm, bare skin underneath the denim, doing your absolute best to remember every bump and dip. How many people would get to say they got to touch Kim Taehyung like this?

At some point, his back was pressed into the wall next to the rack, lips still ravaging your own. Your fingers went on autopilot for his belt, but as soon as you brushed the expensive leather, Taehyung broke the kiss.

"Hold on."

Uh oh. Did he change his mind?

You tried to stave off the disappointment coming on.

"What's wrong?"

He took your hands and pulled them away, but he never let go.

"I know how well these hands of yours work, baby—"

The smirk he gave you should have been illegal in over seventy countries.

"But I wonder if your mouth is just as talented."

Oh.

He had to have felt the way you trembled in his grasp. He had to.

"I mean...I've never had any complaints before."

Taehyung's eyes squinted at your sudden surge of confidence.

"Then don't be greedy. Sharing is caring."

Barely biting back a grin, you waited until he let you go before sinking down to your knees, coming face to face with a tent in his costly slacks. You began reaching for his belt again, only to feel a light swat to your hands. You gaped up at him in shock, only to quiver at the heat directed on you.

"I didn't say you could use your hands, did I?"

What had you gotten yourself into and how could you do it again?

“No, you didn’t.”

Taehyung’s straight teeth flashed dangerously.

“Don’t keep me waiting, gorgeous.”

While those few words rolled off his tongue, he took the opportunity to shift his hips closer to your face. You couldn’t hold back a swallow.

Hopefully, you wouldn’t make an absolute fool of yourself with what you were about to do.

You anchored your palms on your thighs, gripping lightly before you leaned forward, brushing your lips against the cool metal of his belt buckle. Praying that you wouldn’t get any marks on it, you took a hold of the leather with your teeth. You tried your best not to think of how stupid you might have looked, attempting to undo Taehyung’s belt this way.

But his word was absolute; no hands meant no hands.

Finally, you got somewhere, managing to release it from the metal prong before sliding the buckle away. This gave you access to his slacks now, relieved that this part would be much easier.

It was a good thing you only had lip balm on; any kind of stain on the expensive fabric would surely cause you to be reprimanded by your boss.

Your teeth loosened the button from its hole before going for the zipper tab, the sound of the fasteners undoing themselves like music to your ears. You went for his waistband as soon as you were finished, putting more force into your movement this time. With a sharp jerk, you pulled down enough to see a good portion of his briefs.

Just one layer left.

Taehyung seemed to be losing his patience, jutting his hips forward once again. Shooting him a reassuring look, you made quick work of the thin fabric. You barely had time to avoid his cock springing out and hitting you in the eye, face warming at the humored chuckle he gave.

Wanting to wipe the smirk off his face, your mouth engulfed as much of him as possible before giving a harsh suck.

“Shit—”

Lips curling around his length, you gave it your all, throwing in whatever tricks you were familiar with. Taehyung seemed to appreciate the effort, ebony eyes watching you like a hawk and filth-coated praises leaving his mouth.

“That’s it, baby— This what you wanted to do to me the whole day?”

Hopefully the way you fluttered your lashes got the message across.

“Goodness, I hope you’re not like this with every model you work with.”

Now your eyes narrowed, a hand coming up to swat his thigh on instinct. Unfortunately, you didn’t realize your mistake until Taehyung flew out to grab your wrist.

“What did I say, Y/N?”

Forgetting that your mouth was occupied, you began apologizing, but the idol was quick to stop you with his free hand.

“Give me your other arm.”

Your thighs quivered at the commanding tone covering the baritone now, obliging without a second thought. He wrapped his long fingers around your other wrist, keeping your arms up and next to his legs.

“Go on.”

You did not expect him to just take charge like that; the thought only made your pussy clench hard before you continued sucking him off.

For the most part, Taehyung let you do all the work. But sometimes his hips would come to life, taking a moment to give shallow thrusts into the wet heat of your mouth. The rational part of your brain freaked out whenever some of your spit threatened to leak out onto his pants while the horny part relished in the messiness.

Just before a large glob was about to slip past your lips, you felt him release your wrists and pull back to slide out of your mouth. While you were catching your breath, Taehyung helped you stand before walking you over to the couch on the other side of the room. He took a seat, keeping his legs spread as he tugged you by your hips to stand between them.

“Sorry to rush the fun, but my people are going to be looking for me soon.”

His hands already began working at your pants before the sentence was even finished.

“It’s fine.”

As soon as he opened the closures and yanked both waistbands down to your calves, you helped with getting them off your feet. He pushed his own clothing further down his legs and you straddled his lap, shivering at the sensation of his dick under your drenched core.

“You’re okay with this?”

Taehyung’s question took a second to sink in, but you nodded when it did.

“Yeah. I’m clean and safe.”

The man underneath you reflected the nod, hands sneaking around to cup your bare ass.

“Good. You don’t have to worry about getting anything from me, either.”

Your brows knitted jokingly as you felt Taehyung lift you up a bit.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to have to end up going to the media and letting them know that Kim Taehyung is carrying something.”

He merely chuckled, reaching down to guide himself to your entrance.

“And I don’t want to have to go to your boss and tell them about what went down in this room.”

Your mouth parted as you felt him begin to spread you out, words unable to come out until you were fully seated on his lap.

“T-Touché.”

Pleased with your acceptance, Taehyung took a hold of your hips and began pumping up into you. It was torture to have to hold back some of the louder noises you wanted to make, but you did not want to lose this damn job.

Guess you would have to show your appreciation another way.

Managing to balance yourself upright, you laid your palm on his chest, pushing the jacket aside to give you a better look at his torso. Your fingers roamed over the tanned skin, savoring the muscle and tone lying underneath. You took special interest in his stomach, enjoying the faint outline of abs that would show whenever he thrust up.

“Hey, that tickles.”

Your lips curled at Taehyung’s thick protest, sliding your index finger down to trace around his belly button.

“Sorry.”

He merely shook his head as you showed no signs of stopping your trek, digging his nails into your bottom.

“Sure you are.”

Taehyung made sure to get his revenge by pumping harder, forcing you to clap your free hand over your mouth, preventing a loud moan from escaping. He doesn’t slow down over time, fucking into you with abandon as low grunts left him. The model seemed content with watching you bounce above him for the most part. His dark orbs often switched between your face and where your bodies were connected.

The two of you continued until you felt that unbearable coil twisting in your gut, needing something extra to help it snap. Taking a chance, you removed the hand silencing yourself to grab one of Taehyung’s, sliding it between your hips. With a pleading look down at him, he nodded swiftly.

You were sure you tasted blood with how hard you bit on your lip when he started circling your aching clit.

But it was just what you needed, finding yourself getting to that precipice faster than before.

“T-Taehyung—”

Said man continued his movements, eyes steady on your face.

“Keep going, baby. Gonna make me come too—”

His admittance made your pussy quiver, but the excitement took a halt with a sudden thought you had.

“Wait, where are you gonna come?”

“I’ll pull out, don’t worry.”

Oh hell. If he did that, who knows where the mess would end up. While it would be unpleasant if it landed on your own clothes, any trace of semen on his own garments would cause a fiasco.

“Don’t, just— Stay inside, it’s fine.”

Taehyung gaped up at your words. It seemed like he wasn’t going to fight you though, not saying anything more. He let his hips do the talking for him instead.

With a few more steady thrusts and swipes over your bud, you saw stars behind your lids, arching your back and stifling down a cry in your throat. Your nails dug into the firm chest below, needing some sort of anchor as you rode out the tension. You almost missed the sight of Taehyung following behind you, watching as his face screwed up in bliss as ropes of release coated your walls.

His hips came to a stop after some time, his head flopping to rest on the back of the couch as he caught his breath.

“Fuck, that was good…”

You couldn’t speak quite yet, choosing to reflect the sentiment with an unsteady nod. The two of you took a moment to catch your breaths before you tapped his shoulder.

“We should probably get out of here now.”

“Ah.”

You were careful in pulling off of Taehyung’s dick, making sure nothing dripped out. Thankfully, a tissue box was nearby, allowing you to grab a few sheets to clean yourself up. You handed a couple to him as well.

Once you were done, you picked your pants and underwear off the floor, sliding them back on over trembling legs. Taehyung seemed to finish getting himself together at the same time as you, fastening his belt. He looked up at you with a grateful smile.

“Thanks for that, Y/N.”

You scoffed lightly, your own smile coming to the surface.

“I should be thanking you. When I woke up this morning, I didn’t expect to get the opportunity to fuck an idol.”

The taller man laughed at your quip, wispy bangs moving as he shook his head.

“Cross it off your bucket list. Who knows, we might see each other again in the future.”

Taehyung smirked at how flustered you became now, leaning down to plant a kiss on your swollen lips. He whispered against them, “Hell, I wouldn’t mind it. See ya.”

He didn’t even give you a chance to say goodbye, heading for the door. Shooting you a wink, he opened it before stepping out and shutting, leaving you all alone in the dressing room now.

Wow.

Did you really just sleep with the Kim Taehyung?

And got away with it?

A short laugh couldn’t help but come out.

Hopefully he was telling the truth when he said that what happened here would stay between the two of you.

Glancing at your watch, you decided to head back to the set to help break everything down. You walked over to the door and placed your hand on the knob.

A sudden realization froze your body and made your gut twist.

The two of you forgot to lock the door.

Motherfucker.

All you could do was sigh and shake your head before leaving; Taehyung better keep his pretty mouth shut.

©bangtanintotheroom, 2023. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[sugar-omi]

Ello! Could you do Mornings with Cove, Derek, and Baxter? Fem! MC, plz!

the boys are so sappy n in love w you/mc it's SICK also does anyone else have trouble keeping their bonnet/scarf on bc i don't even bother anymore, n i alrdy tried the hair pins. it worked once n then never again i sleep like a wild animal istg ANYWAY!! enjoy anon! i'm so sorry it took so long<333

tags : Fluff, fem/afab reader (use of girl, ma'am, wife), multiple choice dialogue, every scenario has different tags bc it's easier for me that way👍, newly established relationship (derek/baxter), marrying cove

[scenarios in order of cove>baxter>derek]

synopsis : how you spend your mornings with the boys

tags : step 3 / in between step 3-4, you proposed to cove at the end of summer, eloping, moving in together

you're slow to wake up, rolling over and taking all the sheets with you.

you huff and try to untangle the sheets from under body and around your leg... once you're comfortable enough you pull your dangling pillow back onto the bed.

you reach over for cove, wanting to be close to your new husband.

"cove?" you finally open your eyes and search around the room. it's empty. well, save for the boxes and the new mattress on the middle of the floor where you slept together last night.

before you can call out again you hear some clinking and the sound of a sink running.

begrudgingly, you leave your nest of blankets in search of cove. it was worthless to stay in bed if he wasn't there.

first though you should wash up a bit, moving all those boxes had you so tired and you slept good.

you creep up behind cove, you already know he's heard you, but between the sizzling of the pan and the messy playlist terry oh so graciously made for you two.

determining there's not danger of one of you getting hurt by the hot pan in the case cove flinches, you wrap your arms around cove.

"oh-!" cove tenses up, putting a hand on your arm.

he laughs when you mumble "good morning" into his back, still sleepy and you almost fall asleep with your head leaned against him. cove is so comforting...

"don't fall asleep back there, i'm almost done cooking." cove's voice rumbles through you, disrupting your nodding head.

"mhm..." you slink over to the couch. it's crooked and in the middle of the room, all but thrown haphazardly in the room by the movers.

you blink, watching the trees sway and cars zoom by.

you're not in the heart of the city, but you're certainly not out in the middle of nearly nowhere like sunset bird.

"here ya go." the plate comes into view, startling you from your daydream.

you mumble your thanks, suddenly realizing how hungry you are. the meal is simple enough and made from whatever snacks and foods you took from your parents' house that are signaturely yours, but there's toast on the side and that's all that matters.

you eat in silence, propping up your computer on some boxes and watching a video, and after you're done eating, you continue down the funny animal rabbit hole.

"this is nice." you say suddenly, whispered almost.

"hey, that's my line." cove teases and you two share lazy wolfish grins. "no~, your line is saying that i'm nice." you correct, proving your innocence.

"so i'm not nice?" cove lays out a trap and you willingly fall into it.

"you are nice, very nice." you lean in to steal a peck, to which cove takes more. when you pull away, you can't help but laugh about it, it's cute how cove always wants more affection from you.

"i'm just saying, it's nice to be with you like this." you flush, suddenly aware of how embarrassing this is to admit. "y'know, being married and living together, 'n all that stuff..." you trail off, glancing off to the side as you let cove process what you said with a flustered face.

suddenly, his arms tighten around you and you look up to see him teary eyed.

"i'm happy too!"

you laugh, reaching up to wipe his tears away. "good."

cove sniffles, his voice thick from crying but also from affection. "i really liked waking up to you today, it was.. nice."

cove's blush must have been contagious because you felt your own face get hot. "i can't say the same since you were missing, but it was nice sleeping together. and we get to do it everyday and every night."

cove laugh, looking off to the side from being embarrassed at your admissions. "sorry, i was just so happy i wanted to surprise you in bed, but you got up before i could get back."

you smile, curling your fingers in his hair. "well, we got our whole lives for that."

you could practically see the hearts popping off cove, "will you wait for me to bring you breakfast tomorrow?"

you laugh, "sure cove."

cove puffs up, happy with every second that goes by. "what do you want to eat? we can go out shopping today. i really want to try this new flavor of juice i saw a few days ago, it's strawberry something..." cove rambles and you let him go on, agreeing and adding onto the verbal list.

eventually, cove pulls out his phone to write this down and you whisper, full of tenderness. "we're being domestic again, but it's for real this time since we're living together."

cove squeaks, unable to hide his face since his hands are holding his phone tight, trying not to drop it on you. "w-we are, aren't we?" cove laugh, happy again.

"thank you for agreeing to marry me."

cove blinks at you, surprised before he laughs. "you're doing it again."

"what?!" you sit up, grinning even though you're taking up a stance. "you've said that twice, what's that supposed to mean!"

cove shrugs, leaving you hanging. he hooks his arms around your neck, eyes full of love. "as if i'd ever say no, i mean.. i never really thought about getting married, but... well, i wouldn't marry anyone else."

you blink away tears, leaning down to capture cove in a kiss.

he hums happily, letting you slide your hand up his shirt when you get lost in each others lips before you pull away.

"let's elope."

"wh-what?!" cove scrambles, forcing you to sit up but he can't go anywhere with you on top of his lap.

"elope, let's get eloped." you repeat, suddenly embarrassed.

cove coughs, "right now?!"

you nod before you back track, "i mean.. unless you don't want to! i can wait, i'm just so happy that it came out..."

it's silent for a moment, and cove is trying to get his temperature down before he explodes..

"let's do it."

you snap your neck to look at him, "huh?"

cove is flustered and sweating a bit "let's elope.." he finally looks at you instead of his hands. "i can't wait either, and i mean.. we're going to be husband and wife anyway so, why not..?"

you grin, "okay! um- i'll get ready then." you stop, realizing there's some things that should be done before hand, "oh, maybe we should call our parents?"

cove nods, giving a strained smile. "they're gonna tease us again.."

you take his hand, "thats okay. we'll suffer together." cove pushes your shoulder with his and rolls his eyes.

"yeah, you're right. we got this."

tags : (after) step 4, multiple dialogue choice for poc readers/readers w different hair length/upkeep

you stir, your dream disturbed by someone shuffling and squirming and a hand on your cheek.

slowly letting your dream go, regrettably since it was just getting interesting, and blink sleepily at the mess of black hair beside you.

you groan, turning your head to hide it in the pillow.

"why are you up? it's not even 11 yet..." you grumble, slipping baxter's phone back under the pillow. it must've ended up there somehow after you two fell asleep in the middle of your youtube binge, and until you're ready to get up it'll stay there.

"just admiring you."

you smile, peeking at him. "no way, you're jus' saying stuff."

baxter looks so tender, his hand moving from your cheek to hold your hand. "i'm serious. you're the prettiest girl in the world."

a coy, wolfish smile comes on his face, "even if-

-your hair is sticking up on one side." you fly upright, covering your hair with your hands.

-your hair is kinda sticking up." you fly upright, snatching up your bonnet/scarf that came off in the middle of the night and fixing it.

-you drool in your sleep." you jump, rubbing your mouth to wipe away the tacky spit.

you huff as baxter chuckles away, "sorry i- ack!"

you slap baxter with the pillow, throwing the sheets away and running to the bathroom to wash up. "laugh it up! you're worse than me, y'know?"

baxter finally sits up, showing you his own messy hair do. it's flat on one side. you stifle a cackle.

he gazes at you softly, sleep and love softening his features. "i'm pas' that."

you don't bother closing the bathroom door, knowing baxter is slow on your tail. "you put salt in your coffee yesterday. are ya sure about that?"

you turn on the shower, letting the water warm up while you brush your teeth.

baxter finally comes behind you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your cheek.

you hum, pleased.

baxter gazes at you through the mirror, addressing you through it. "i love you."

you feel warm, your heart skipping and beating fast at the overwhelming affection from him today. "i love you too."

baxter kisses your cheek, looking up at you through his eyelashes. "so, can i join your shower?"

"only if you behave, pepe-le-pew." you pinch baxter's cheek, grinning at how he scrunches up his face.

while you get ready for the shower, making the water warm enough for the both of you.

usually you take hot showers, but last time baxter turned red so lukewarm would have to do.

usually you take cold showers, but baxter just shook in the corner of the shower before he jumped under some hot water to warm up.

you two take showers together often, this was good bonding time for you two.

"wash my hair for me?" baxter asks, sliding up behind you.

"sure." you switch spots so baxter can get his hair wet. it's a tight fit since this shower isn't meant for two, but you make it work. it was better than the bathtub anyway, that was its own problem...

baxter sits on the stool, something you finally put in since it was straining, having to bend down every time.

"don't get shampoo in my mouth again." baxter cackles, trying not to laugh as you massage the shampoo in his hair.

"that was an accident!" you defend, "and it was your fault! you wouldn't stop laughing and talking while i was washing your hair out!"

"is that so?" baxter's suave voice echos throughout the bathroom. the sound makes you shiver.

"yeah 'that's so'! you play around too much!" you laugh and mock. "now stop talking, i'm gonna wash it out."

baxter willingly shuts his mouth, letting you tip his head back and detach the shower head to wash the shampoo out.

this gives you a good view of his face. truthfully, there are not many times when baxter is quiet, witty and flirty words always coming from his mouth, and his face is always lined with a lazy lopsided smile.

so seeing him like this, with his face relaxed and his shoulders sagging as he lets you work your hands through his hair.

"you can open your eyes now." you wipe baxter's face with your hand to get the water off his face, pushing his hair back.

baxter blinks, getting used to the change of light. he takes the shower head from your hands so he can hold your hand and he smiles, coy and mischievous. "hey there, beautiful, come here often?"

you roll your eyes, ignoring the flush coming over you. "shut up."

baxter laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your stomach, watching you.

"what're you looking at?" you feel so flustered from baxter being so soft and tender this morning.

"you." baxter intertwines your fingers. "you're the prettiest girl in the world."

you crumble, leaning over him. "can't you just say 'i love you' like a normal person.."

baxter smiles his signature lopsided grin, "nope." he says, popping the 'p'.

you two sit for a moment in silence, wrapped up in each other.

"i love you too. even though you're silly." you mumble, moving to grab baxter's face.

"i think you're helping me to look silly," he tries to smile but you're squishing his cheeks. "i love you more though."

"as if." you lean down to kiss his forehead, then his nose, which if he could, there'd be a happy tail swinging behind him. before you finally meet his lips, letting him take more than you were going to give.

"okay bax," you laugh, pushing his shoulders. "enough kisses, the waters getting cold."

his loopy, lovesick grin turns wolfish, "i'll warm you up."

baxter starts to trail his hands along your hips, going from sensual to playful as he starts tickling your sides.

you squeal, holding onto his wrists. "stop it!" you squirm, laughter echoing throughout the shower..

tags : (after) step 4, clingy derek, reader can cook, Encanto movie mentioned (that movie SLAPPED), reader gives derek a massage

it would be a meriacle you woke up before derek if it wasn't already coming up to 2pm.

you don't usually get up this late, but you and Derek had been up having fun and watching the sunrise just for the hell of it, that it ended up happening.

you yawn and stretch, looking at the expanse of derek's muscled back as you consider if kts worth getting up or not.

'mm, i could make him breakfast..'

now that was an idea. finally setting that as your goal, you throw off the sheets and manage to creep out the room as quietly and as quickly as possible.

you may not be the next gordon ramsay, but you at least knew your way around the kitchen. so once scrounging up some eggs and vegetables, you set onto making an omelet.

which... is harder than it looks. and the first one isn't instgram worthy for sure. looks like you'll be taking that one...

you start humming to the music you have playing quietly, swaying from side to side in place as you expertly (at least in your opinion) shimmy the spatula under the omlete to flip it.

then, right as you give a small "aha!" at your success, a sleepy, gravelly call of your name comes from the hallway.

"y/n..? where are ya?"

you bristle, looking around the disordered kitchen panicked. "kitchen! don't come in!"

you curse, taking the pan off the stove and turning off the eye quickly as you slide into the hallway. you thank derek's sleepy movement since otherwise he would've found you out already if he wasn't ready to collapse where he stood.

he blinks, rubbing his eyes. "what's going on? you need help?"

you start pushing on his chest. "no! i can handle everything here, so just go to bed, and I'll be right there, okay?"

derek laughs, letting you push him back towards the bedroom, "i mean sure but what're you-"

"nope! no questions! just go back to bed and wait for me. if you come out before i'm ready, a punishment is in order!" you nag, crossing your arms as derek gets back into bed.

"kinky."

you huff and roll your eyes, trying not to show your amusement. being half asleep also turns off half of derek's filter..

you lean over, roughly tucking him in much to his delight. "now stay here." you kiss his head before you run off, shutting the door 3/4ths of the way before you throw it back open to glare at him.

"i mean it."

derek laughs, his eyes droopy again already. "yes ma'am."

you shut the door and skip down the hall, hurrying to fix the rest of your and derek's breakfast before the omletes get cold.

bustling around the kitchen, trying to keep things neat as you go, but the stack of dishes in the sink and fallen egg shell you quickly pick up says there was a disaster happening here.

in the end, though, you find the nicest plates derek has here and a food tray before you plate up the food with care, even cutting and peeling some fruit on the side to go with your choice of yogurt or oatmeal, before making your way to the bedroom, humming.

you're happy you got to do something nice for derek, even though it almost went up in ruins a few times. be it from derek almost walking in, the questionably shaped omelet, or almost getting orange juice in your eye when peeling.

you somehow balance the tray well enough to open the door, and before you can give a loud and playfully formal announcement that food is ready, you realize derek is asleep.

he looks so serene, arm stretched out on your side of the bed and the sunlight hitting his back nicely.

you smile, creeping up and sitting the tray down carefully. equally as careful, you ease yourself onto the bed, petting derek's hair as you debate waking him up or not.

you push his hair off his forehead. his hair feels and looks so different when it's not gelled up in his signature style, he still looks handsome like this though, maybe even more-so.

"mmm, tha' you y/n?" derek takes your hand out of his hair and into his, loosely holding your hand.

"yeah. i made you breakfast but if you're too tired we can eat later." you kiss his hand.

derek hums, a dopey smile coming on his face. "i could eat." derek sits up, stretching with a groan and slumping against the pillows, trying to wake himself up.

you present the tray, popping the legs and situation it between you two so you can eat as well.

"oh that's so sad, he just wants to eat with his family.." you fret, absent-mindedly playing with derek's hair.

derek hums, mumbling something.

you look down at him, thinking derek looks like an sleepy pup that thinks he's still a lap dog. derek is much bigger than when you guys were kids, something you still can't get used to some days.

"you falling asleep?" you push his hair back, showing derek's droopy eyes.

he squirms, still keeping his arms wrapped around your waist. "no.." derek yawns, burying his face into your stomach.

you laugh, tugging on little strands of derek's hair, that elicit a low, gravelly hum from him.

"okay, tell me if you want anything." you lean down, trying to kiss derek but the position just strains your neck and back.

derek looks up, peaking at you and smiling when he sees your pouty lips. he leans up, holding the back of your head as he gives you a few soft kisses that he can't help but smile through.

you smile back at him. "lay down with me.." derek purrs, his voice hoarse with sleep.

"i'm trying to watch the movie!" you laugh, derek already pulling you down the bed so you can lay with him.

"and you can watch it from my arms." derek snuggles into your neck, kissing the back of your neck which makes you shiver and laugh.

at some point near the end of the movie you ended up falling asleep, much to your disappointment.

you smack your lips, "dang it..." you fumble for the remote in the sheets, finding it at the end of the bed, only saved by the foot board.

while you start rewinding the movie, derek walks back in.

you perk up, scooting towards the edge of the bed. "derek!" your voice is thick with sleep and your head feels cloudy still from dreamland but seeing derek makes you feel a bit excited.

"you're awake." derek comes to your side, rubbing the towel over his head. you hum, "did you fall asleep too?" you prop yourself on your knees to help derek dry off, "i slept through the ending..." you pout.

derek laughs, "we can watch it together. do you think we can start over? i wasn't paying attention earlier..." derek admits sheepishly.

you nod, then realize derek probably didn't see you before he turned around so you said yes.

while derek looks for clothes you respond to lee's spam texts about something or other.

you're in the middle of typing out another response to respond to your cousins fangirling when derek groans and sighs.

derek slumps over, rubbing his neck.

"you okay, baby?"

derek startles a bit, turning to look at you sheepishly. "yeah, i'm fine."

you roll your eyes and send a quick "brb" text before throwing the phone somewhere on the bed. "no you're not. are you stiff? sore?"

derek comes closer to you, kneeling on the rug so he can hug your waist. "a bit.. guess i've been going to hard on arm day." you both laugh.

"yeah, i don't think those guns need to het any bigger." you laugh, curling your fingers in his hair. "oh! how about i give you a massage?"

derek looks at you with wide eyes, "you can do that?"

you shrug. "i'm not a professional, but it might help. do you want me to?" derek nods, a bit too enthusiastic, which makes him blush and clear his throat. "if you don't mind.."

you shake your head and push derek's shoulders so you can stand up, "not at all, wait here.."

it takes a moment to find the lotion, a con of having moved into a new place: everything is in an odd place.

you don't keep any oil or anything like that that would be more appropriate, so this would have to do.

derek is a bit awkward at first, but once you put on some music for yourself so you can focus, derek starts watching the animal tiktok's your friends were spamming in the group chat, occasionally apologizing for his laughter making your body bounce.

you're happy and share a few laughs and idle conversations between the two of you. you don't really know what you're doing, and mostly following a few tips from online.

derek sighs, sinking into the mattress. "that's good..."

your hands smooth over his back, spreading the lotion down to the small of his back and kneading a bit.

satisfied now that derek looks relaxed and you've done the best you can to make your lover feel better, you lean over to kiss the back of his neck. "there you go, baby."

derek hums, and you move around to lay beside him. "thank you. i feel so much better." derek nuzzles into your neck, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in.

you laugh at derek's clinginess, wrapping your arms around his back as well. "i'm glad, i wasn't really sure what i was doing."

derek starts peppering kisses all over your face, both of you smiling and laughing.

eventually, derek pulls away, having flipped you over and is gazing down at you, his eyes full of love and are a bit glassy. "thanks for taking care of me today. you're amazing..."

you reach up to cup his cheeks, "you're worth it, you need to be taken care of."

derek laughs, tears gathering on his lashes. he tucks his face into your neck, completely wrapping his body around your own. "i love you so much."

you brighten, surprised but happy with derek's declaration. that's the first time either of you have said the L-word.

"i love you too, derek."

[hitlikehammers]

taste like loving

rating: t ♥️ cw: pre-relationship-to-established relationship, SUCH FLUFF ♥️ tags: idiots in love, pickles, slice of life, softness

for @steddielovemonth day seven: Love Is Silently Passing Them A Pickle Because You Know It’s Their Favorite (@steddieasitgoes)

@pearynice and @hbyrde36 suffered my languishing over this more than once; it felt wrong to delete it (which was the original plan) 🥒 (and yes I am well aware this is VERY late for @steddielovemonth but I had this one and one more that I never got to post bc schedules and I still wanted to...not-delete them? so the other one will go up sometime before the 29th's over worldwide) ♥️

The first time he notices is the first time they all hang out after he’s discharged. The first time it feels almost normal. Eddie’s still not mobile enough to leave the couch at most—at least a little variety of the one-room view of his bedroom, at least—but this.

This is awesome. Because there’s no hospital to remind him of the way he’s a mishmash of still-healing incisions that he can ignore if he doesn’t move wrong, or breathe to deep, and when he does breathe to deep and reminds himself it’s for laughing, it’s a raucous and joyful thing and it’s wild in a way he never knew he was missing because—or else, he thinks because—probably there wasn’t a deep pit inside him full of all the horrors they saw and stood against together, and so he’s got this new capacity to be bowled over and filled past the brim with a kind of giddy, buoyant relief that’s unbound in ways he probably didn’t dare to even tease at, despite all his ranting about conformity and letting your fucking freak flag fly: he never could have envisioned a time he could be this unbound. Untethered.

Just…fucking free.

Because these people have seen his literal fucking insides, right? One of them held those insides in his hands, held them where they belonged long enough for him to be sitting here cackling with them, aching for the jostling of his laughter but hell if it’s not worth it, if he pops a stitch or two he won’t even fucking complain because these people saw him inside-out, y’know, and from the first he felt safe with them, with all of him, spoken and unspoken because it really felt, for the first time, like all of the things that mattered to the world at large, that could get you killed in the wrong company: it all felt…dulled; distant, after what he’d seen.

What he’d survived.

So in the now: home, on the couch, with the Buckley and Harrington tag-team feature show splitting his fucking sides and making him feel like he’s drowning in only good things and breathing full for the first time in his fucking life—

That’s when he first notices it happen.

They’re opening the boxes with deli sandwiches from Leeanne’s down off Brooklyn, the big towering fuckers with the toothpicks in the center to hold them together, and Eddie’s fucking ecstatic about the Reuben he’s staring down because real-not-hospital-cafeteria food is still an honest goddamn thrill, but he sees Steve flip open his monstrous looking Club and it’s not even all the way flipped back, the top half of the little foldy-box, when Robin slips her equally-big-ass dill spear next to the one lined up against the bread of Steve’s lunch, flashing an overstretched grin as she plops it down:

“For my Dingus,” she nods to him almost graciously and he chuckles before he picks it up and chomps it almost…almost aggressivelyand yes, okay, fine: Eddie notices because he pays attention to his friends, especially some of his very best friends, but yeah, sure, he probably notices Steve’s biting enough to characterize it because, well.

And look, see: after Steve had set himself up as permanent guardian at his bedside?Eddie might not have had all the reasons for it, all the answers to the whys, but he did have Steve Harrington in the flesh beside him always, kinda day and night, and after that? Eddie had stopped telling himself it was useless, the things he was feeling, all the relentless want in him. It might still be hopeless—just because he knew now that Steve swung that nail bat for both teams didn’t mean he’d want Eddie specifically by default—but there was no harm in feeding the deathless little lust-monster that’d lived in him from sophomore year, and that now, fed by the knowledge that Steve Harrington was beauty and brawn and brains in a way no one never expected because it wasn’t theirs, all on top of a heart of fucking 

: the monster was now a full-grown beast that wasn’t…just prone to lust, anymore.

Whatever, though. Eddie could fucking look.

So he noticed the way Robin gave Steve her pickles. The way he playfully accepted and usually leaned into her, grateful and tactile in their shared-brain kind of way.

And if he keeps noticing, what the fuck else is he expected to do? The more he learns, the closer they grow, the stronger and bigger and louder his not-lust creature gets, its stomping like a riot in his pulse save no, that’s actually just his heartbeat for what it is: hopelessly and pathetically and godawfully smitten, kinda recklessly and unrepentantly devoted, and he…

Okay, so in the beginning, Eddie knows it’s a long shot. He knows what he was doing, but it’s easy to play off as something…less. Something just playful, instead of playful-and. He already sits next to Steve when they’re all together, on a floor or a sofa or in a booth: he’s expected there. That is his place. One side him, one side Robin.

Robin even takes across-from-Steve when there aren’t enough spaces. Eddie has somehow…made the cut.

He isn’t throwing a fucking party inside his ribs about it or anything, but.

(Yeah, he is.)

But it starts small, and sorta-almost-casual: when he pops his pickle on Steve’s plate the first time. And Steve blinks at him, tilts his head in that way Eddie associates with softness, with safety, with something so adorably protective, cute and yet let herbal, on alert while breathing slow: and there’s something irresistible in the dichotomy of it that has Eddie’s pulse ramping-up by instinct at just the little gesture, the little tip of the chin and then Steve’s grinning, slow but so big, and at him, and, okay. Okay, yes, fine.

Eddie may or may not be playing this like one of those fucking birds that brings pebbles to court their intended, that drops shining little bits and bobs of nothing special that mean everything special as they try to convince their mate they’re a good bet. It may or may not be a thing he should be at least a little embarrassed of, whatever.

The way Steve chomps with fucking gusto on that pickle though: the way he grins as he chews and keeps his eyes locked on Eddie’s the whole goddamn time?

Eddie’s not gonna be embarrassed of jack shit, if he gets that in exchange.

He’s also sure as shit not going to stop, when he gets that in exchange.

He tries to up his game as the gesture extends, expands: he does his best to make it clear that he fucking loves his beloved briny cucumbers, that the way he saves them and gifts them to Steve isn’t just mimicry of his platonic soulmate; that it’s deliberate and intentional and he’s willingly and willfully forgoing something he loves for something he loves—yeah, yeah he’s ready to say that, at least in his head, because the days turn to weeks turn to months and there’s no fucking denying it anymore—so very much more, and he just…wants to make sure Steve notices. Knows it and, like, whether he decides to act on it or not, Eddie just wants him to know that a choice was there to make, right? Like, he doesn’t want it to go unnoticed.

It’s only once Steve sucks half a spear through his lips, hollows his mouth wholly unnecessarily and positively sinfully, and puckers around the pickle with wide pleading but teasing, goddamn teasing eyes trained on Eddie expectantly with the bare half sticking out his mouth, an invitation from where he sits next to Eddie at the table: it’s only then that Eddie thinks maybe there was hope after all.

He bites the loose half clear just shy of brushing Steve’s lips because he’ll be damned if their first kiss—if this is where it’s headed, if this is really possible and a thing—he’ll be fucking damned if he kisses Steve Harrington for the first time over a fucking vegetable.

Given the way Steve’s lips ultimately close around a pout all on their own: Eddie thinks…yeah. Yeah, that’s where they’re headed.

Their first kiss is very much not-pickle-flavored, but they laugh about the almost of it, once they settle comfortably into a version of ‘we’ that’s not entirely unlike the one they had before; this one just says the love part out loud. Which honestly kind of highlights how much it was there, just unspoken, almost the whole goddamn time. Which is wild.

Then of course it grows. There’s always a jar of pickles on their shopping list, because there’s always a need when the last one’s always empty. Sometimes because he wanted something to eat in the middle of the night. Sometimes because he feeds a slice to Steve Lady and the Tramp style, and does lick the taste from him after, now, not because it isn’t momentous; kissing Steve. But more because it’s…it’s going to be momentous again, whenever he wants.

For, like, ever.

Though it’s carrying on in that fashion that kinda leads in to, about a year-and-change and going strong, Eddie getting his mind goddamn blown.

It starts, mostly, with Eddie thinking—mistakenly—that his boyfriend’s not gonna be late for dinner and honestly, Eddie just doesn’t want the spear to get all warm and floppy so he figures he’ll quick eat the ones he set out, cannot let a delicious pickle go to waste, and he’ll get a fresh one for the plates when Steve gets in, no problem, he’ll just—

He’s maybe almost fucking fellating the pickle when Steve clears his throat unexpectedly from the doorway to the kitchen.

“Am I interrupting?” the arch of his brow is enviable, and the giddy delight in his tone is delectable, and Eddie wants him to come over and kiss the fucking blush he feels just lightly heat his cheeks as he tries to decide what to do because…

Eddie’s never not given his pickle to Steve, or not shared his pickle with Steve, in Steve’s presence, okay? It’s just…that’s for Steve.

And Steve probably wouldn’t be grossed out with Eddie’s slobber all over it, but, like, he deserves better by default any—

Steve’s next to him before he fully notices him crossing the distance, and he’s nudging Eddie’s hand with just a finger, pressing the pickle past his lips, slow enough to chew but steady with the pressure, and hell if it’s not erotic as fuck.

Steve goddamn Harrington.

And he smirks when Eddie swallows with a gulp, leans to kiss him and comments kind of idly:

“That was hot, babe.”

Eddie huffs, and then looks at the pickle-less plates and remembers.

“I’m so sorry, Sweetheart, I’d have kept it for you, but I wasn’t sure how long you’d be—“

“Eds, relax,” Steve laughs, unbothered; “you don’t have to save me the pickle. I buy you whole jars.”

Eddie frowns a little, because that wording sound…off. He’s not quite sure why, until Steve picks up on his confusion, the grit caught in the works that he can’t pick out, because Steve always notices; and Steve always finds the catch to smooth it clean.

He’s amazing that way.

“They’re your favorites,” he goes and grabs the jar in question from the fridge, pops the lid and meticulously catches the drip on the glass lip before offering it to Eddie with a smile so warm Eddie can feel it in his knees, because it fucking makes them melty and shit even now; he prays it’ll never stop making them melty and shit, honestly, but—

“I never even really liked them, until you.”

And that’s the part that catches Eddie up entirely, almost chokes him on the end of his hand-fed pickle feast.

“What,” he pauses, clears his throat; “what d’ya mean?”

“Robin fucking hates them,” Steve shrugs, still smiling that knee-targeting smile; “so she always pawned them off on me, and I didn’t have any strong feelings either way, but then,” he reaches, traces Eddie’s lips and gathering any stray juice before sucking his thumb between his lips to clean it off. Eddie almost fucking feels his pupils dilate.

“You know I wanted it to mean something from the beginning,” Steve says simply, because Eddie did know; “and then when I found out it wasn’t just, like, convenient, but you liked them so much yourself, then it felt,” and then Steve’s biting his lip, which is that knife’s edge between adorable and hot-hot-sex that regularly threatens to explode Eddie goddamn brain, but than he’s smiling again, a little softer, a lot more fond:

“It felt like they meant you liked me,” Steve ducks his head solely to glance through his lashes, a little bashful even still; “it felt like it maybe meant you, you know, maybe, like maybe you loved me?”

And Eddie can’t handle the question mark there, dives in and kisses Steve sound and sure and licks his way in to rub away that bit of punctuation that could ever possibly cast any doubt on Eddie’s feelings at basically any point they’ve shared fucking air.

“It tastes like that, now.”

Eddie cocks his head a little.

“What tastes like what, baby?”

Steve leans and licks into Eddie mouth again, but this time it’s got direction, like he’s seeking something, but then just as quick he pulls back, though not far, and looks up at Eddie with a little extra curl to his lips as he murmurs between them:

“I fucking adore pickles, now. Because they kinda taste like you loving me.”

And Jesus H., this man is gonna kill him.

And Eddie—who can do nothing less than capture Steve’s lips again and let him taste this particular flavor of loving as long and as deep as he wants—Eddie kinda thinks that’ll be a fucking glorious way to go.

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 

♥️

divider credit here

[annesstardustchords]

You Look So Perfect - Marc Spector X Reader

Request from @simpforbritgents : "I’m convinced that Marc would love and not be able to help fucking you (respectfully ofc) when you steal his clothes bc it’s all oversized on you and he knows you love wearing his clothes."

I'm OBSESSED with this idea so ofc I had to make it filthy :)))

CW: Smut under the cut, weed usage, alcohol consumption, oral (f receiving), fingering, light choking, praise kink, size kink, reader is referred to as "girl" - ie, "pretty girl", "sweet girl", "good girl", etc.

(lmk if I missed anything!)

Playlist: Salt and The Sea - The Lumineers, Mistakes - Sharon Van Etten, Come Here - Dominic Fike, Baby - Born Without Bones

Every reblog and like is appreciated - thank you all for the love on my first fic <3

Your boyfriend, Marc, wasn't home. He'd been gone since early in the morning, out chasing scarabs and such; this was pretty normal for him, and for you. He was rarely around during the days lately. You missed him. God, did you fucking miss him. Any time he was away, it was like he took your heart with him. Tonight wasn't any different, and you needed him. To have his arms wrapped around your waist, to take in his scent, to listen to his breathing as his chest moved beneath the rest of your head; just to be in the same fucking room for once. Even seeing him from a distance would suffice at this point.

You weren't sure what had you so worked up. Sure, you missed Marc, but you miss Marc every time he's gone, so what made today any different?

Regardless, you figured that sitting around and moping wouldn't fix the ache in your chest for him, or the flush in your cheeks from the tingling in your lower belly, or the stupid aphrodisiac effect that wine had on you (and you had drank about a half a bottle on your own,) so you decided to just go to bed and hope he's there when you wake up in the morning.

But that didn't work either.

An hour had passed, and you are still wide awake. With an annoyed groan, you sit up and grumpily make your way into the kitchen, bare feet shocking your system at the coolness of the tile beneath you. You shiver as you grab your box of joints from the cabinet, rubbing the goosebumps on your arms as you make your way back to your bedroom. You open the window and place the ashtray on the sill, reaching behind you to pick up Marc's sweater up off the couch, slipping it on as you climb out the window onto the fire escape, grabbing a joint from the box still sitting on the windowsill as you do so.

You let yourself drown in his massive sweater whilst you light the joint, the freezing cold air hitting you hard. You take a hit, holding the smoke deep in your lungs with a massive inhale, the scent of Marc hitting your nose as you do so. You exhale, and bury your nose into the neckline of his hoodie, taking in as much of his cologne as you can.

You stay sat on the fire escape for 15 minutes, smoking the entirety of the joint and longing for Marc; the soft hums of muffled indie playing throughout your apartment as your high fully hits. You shuffle back inside, closing the window behind you and dropping the box and ashtray to your side table with a clunk as you fall into your bed.

You leave the music on, fully basking in the size of Marc's hoodie, rolling around in it as if you were in a music video. You knew it was the weed talking, but it almost -almost- felt like he was holding you; his aroma surrounding you in a fog-like hug as you lazily hummed along to the song playing, giggling at nothing in particular. 

You kicked off your sweatpants and stood up, bouncing around to the music as you filled your glass with more wine (not that you needed it,) and swayed around to the beat in some pitiful attempt to tire yourself out.

You weren’t sure how long he’d been watching but as you opened your eyes and swirled around, your red eyes met Marc's dark ones. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” he smiles. 

“Marc!” You squeal, running over to him and practically chucking yourself into his strong arms.

"I missed you so fucking much," he murmurs into your hair, the rasp in his voice sending shivers down your spine.

"Are you really here?" you whisper, holding onto him as if your life depended on it.

"Yeah, pretty girl," he chuckles, "I'm right here."

"I missed you so much. Had to smoke a whole J on my own to get you outta my head," you joke, poking at his ribs, "It didn't work, though."

"I'm sorry I was gone for so long," he sighs, pulling away from you and tossing his bag onto his floor, "But I-"

He pauses for a little too long, looking at you up and down like a man starved.

"But you...?" you prompt, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

"Nothing, I- it doesn't matter. You... Fuck- You look really fucking good in my sweater, baby," he groans, grabbing you by the waist.

"Oh?" you giggle, "You like it when I wear you clothes, hm?"

"Fuck, I really do. Lets me know you're mine," he whispers, swooping his head down to place a passionate kiss to your lips, "But as much as I like it on you, I think I'd prefer it off."

You blush and step back, slowly removing the sweater from yourself to reveal your bare chest and pink panties.

"Better?" you sheepishly ask, biting your lip as you smile.

"Much better," he sighs, taking a step towards you and pulling you toward him again, "God, I gotta taste you, pretty girl. Can I please, please taste you?"

"Please, Marc," you whimper as he places gentle kisses to your neck, the various substances coursing through your blood stream causing every little touch to set your skin on fire.

"C'mon, princess," he grunts as he picks you up bridal-style, carrying you back to your bed as you giggle and nip at his collar bones.

You cherished that small moment; having his tall, strong figure encapsulating your petite one in comparison to his. It made you feel safe - protected, like nothing could hurt you.

He gently places you onto the mattress, and in what feels like the same motion, grabs your ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed.

"Gonna make you feel good, sweetheart. Been away so long, I gotta reward you for being so patient," he smirks as peppers kisses from your sternum down to your belly button.

"Please make me feel good, Marc. Missed you bad," you murmur, trying to restrain from begging him even though that's all you wanted to do. You'd get on your knees and fucking beg - that's how much you needed him.

He smiles and runs a finger over your clothed cunt, causing you to take a sharp breath. He tucks a finger under the waistband of your panties and pulls them down in the same motion, chucking them somewhere behind him.

"God, you're fucking perfect," he whispers, admiring the sight in front of him.

Meanwhile, you were admiring the sight below you.

He looked so fucking good. His big, lustful eyes gazed upon you like it was the first time he'd seen you naked. He was him, and you were you, but it was like it was the first time all over again.

"Marc," you whined, wriggling under the hold he had on your hips.

"What do you need, princess?" he asks, cocking his head to the side with a joking intonation in his voice.

"Please, just fucking touch me," you finally beg.

He smiles then, ducking his head between your thighs, placing a kiss to each inner thigh before kitten licking a single stripe through your folds. You moan and let your head fall back at the sudden relief.

He nips at your clit as he lets his hand explore your chest, tweaking your nipple as his fingers trace across it. The simple action feels like fireworks across your body, setting you on fire.

"You taste so good, sweet girl," Marc groans, licking his lips.

He dips his finger into your entrance, gathering your arousal on his thumb and raising his hand to your mouth.

"Open, baby," he says, swiping across your bottom lip. You do as he says, opening your mouth and taking his thumb onto your tongue, tasting yourself on him. You suck ever so slightly, though it's enough to send Marc into a crazed hunger. He fully attaches his lips to your clit, licking and sucking as he enters a finger into your hole, hooking it right where you needed him to.

"Oh my God, Marc... Fuck- Feels so fucking good," you moan, your head lulling to the side as he eats you out like he'll never touch you again.

"That's it, baby," he praises as you moan; something he'd do every so often as an act of incentive; of devotion, "Take what you need."

At that, you let your hips snap up, your clit bumping his nose with a strangled moan from you as Marc's hand makes its way up your stomach, grabbing at the flesh of your hips to keep you in place - just enough, though, that he'd still have control over you.

"Fuck, Marc... Need you," you whine, rolling your hips against him.

"You have me, sweetheart," he chuckles, the vibrations from the wonderous melody of his laugh like electricity against your aching core.

"Mh-mh," you moan, shaking your head, "Wanna fuck you."

"Oh, really?" he chuckles, ceasing his actions on your clit much to your dismay. He climbs on top of you, holding himself just inches from your face. He places a delicate kiss to your lips, but you're having none of it- pulling his lips to yours like they're your only source of oxygen. Passionate; all the yearning for him pouring out of your lips onto his.

"Please? I've been such a good girl for you- waited so long for you to come home... Didn't even touch myself," you mutter between kisses.

"Oh, fuck, y/n. You can't say shit like that," he groans as you feel him grow insatiably hard against your thigh.

"Can't help it," you groan, rutting your hips into him, "I need you to know how you make me feel."

"I'm boutta make you feel a whole lot better, dollface," he smirks.

To Be Continued...