#pls don’t let this flop I worked hard on it

[queenwille]

ISRAEL-HAMAS conflict explained

[highvern]

Freak Like Me

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader

Genre: smut (18+)

warnings: daddy kink (sigh), dom/brat tamer cheol, brat reader, heavy degradation (from both), dirty talk, spitting, choking, spanking, manhandling, ass play, minor breeding kink, name calling

Length: ~4k

Note: he haunts me day and night, when will i know peace from this man. thank you @wongyuuu and @onlyhuis for beta-ing! also pls dont request any daddy kink fics! this was a one off and i dont see myself writing more

Summary: You’re always happy to indulge in your boyfriend’s fantasies. That doesn’t mean he won’t have to work for it though. And that's just the way Seungcheol likes it.

m.list + support my work

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked

Six years of dating means most nights in bed are spent watching movies on the too large flatscreen your boyfriend insisted on buying until you fall asleep. Not that the appeal of having Seungcheol anyway you wanted wore away but the passion of your earlier days burned into content to spend evenings curled in each others’ arms after a day of exhaustion. 

You’re already greasy from lotion, the worn shirt speckled with holes sticking to your skin still warm from a blister shower. Snuggled between fresh sheets with a candle burning on the side table and a good book, you’re the pinnacle of content.

Seungcheol is visible just over the edge of the page, lent against the doorframe. Sometimes he’s like this; watching you like he can’t believe he managed to get you to say yes to the first date, let alone everything else that’s come after.  You meet his gaze with an arched brow.

He’s quieter than usual when he flops over your body to snuggle into the curve of your shoulder. Marking the page, you toss aside your book in favor of squeezing him into a hug.

“Everything okay?” You ask.

A fleet of kisses across the stretched neckline of your shirt is Seungcheol’s only response.

You indulge when he finds your mouth. Lips parted around one of his, the soft point of a tongue sneaking between your teeth. 

He crawls over you easily enough, one thigh resting between the dip of yours as he hums. “Can we try something?”

Nipples hard from some light petting, you kiss along Seungcheol’s jaw with a faint nod to acknowledge his request. 

“Could you–”

“I’m not letting you put your dick in my ass. I have too much shit to do tomorrow to be limping around.”

Seungcheol leans back to pin you with round eyes round and pouty lips. “I thought you liked it?”

“Yeah, I do.” You sigh, circling your arms around his shoulders. “When I have a few days' notice.”

“That wasn’t what I was asking anyway but good to know.”

“Okay, so what do you want then, your majesty?”

Dropping back into the safety of your throat, your boyfriend mumbles something intelligible.

“Come again?” You snicker from the vibrations. “Sorry, I don’t speak pout.”

“Call me daddy.”

Oh.

It’s not an unexpected request. You’ve dated for six years, you know your boyfriend like the back of your hand. He likes the thrill of telling you what to do, watching you get off on it too. But sometimes it feels like he’s holding back. As if there’s another level he hasn’t fully allowed himself to explore yet. The proof rests in the months-long push and pull at the beginning of your relationship where you all but humped his leg and he still would keep his hands more or less PG-13. The secret to getting Seungcheol to admit his deep dark secrets is to convince him they get you hot too.

“Hmmmm.” You pretend to think, already sold on the idea the second he opened his mouth. But you can’t let him know you’re that whipped despite the fact Seungcheol knows too well how easy you are for him. “What’s in it for me?”

Seungcheol pins you under his mouth, tracing promises across your lips, teeth, and tongue until everything goes fuzzy at the edges. 

He drops to your jaw, tracing the same pattern across your pulse until you melt. “God, you’re hot.”

Seungcheol talks a big game but a few complements, tinted with candor from the promise of pleasure, makes him blush like he hasn’t fucked you every way imaginable. 

“Don’t make it too easy for me,” he goads into your stomach, dipping beneath his shirt to nip across your hips. 

“Then get up here, I’ve got shit to talk.”

The heat of his lap greets your ass first, next is the rough palms of his hands slipping under your shorts and finding you went to bed without panties. Again.

“You’ll kill me,” Seungcheol grunts into your mouth with a drive off his hips. 

Hot and hard, you settle your weight back into his cock teasingly. “Death by pussy? Sexy.”

A hand circles your jaw, holding you in place while he takes what he wants. Every gasp and sigh, nipping across your lower lip until you melt into his chest and pull off his shirt. 

Your nails rake down his front, red lines raising to claim him. Memories of college, when you’d bite your mark into his neck for the sole purpose of parading around parties, broadcasting who he belonged to without shame, flare across your brain. But now you’re older and a hickey the size of a golf ball would look less than professional in front of his clients. The idea still gets you hot enough to try for one on your boyfriend’s stomach, right where the vein that leads straight to his dick.

Seungcheol lets you melt down his front. Bracketed between thick thighs, you might as well be queen of the world as you tongue across the waistband of his pants; the bulge of his arousal digging across your breasts.

A hand on his cock loosens his resolve. You might just get away with not playing the mind games he wants tonight but your curiosity is piqued enough to remind him. 

“Daddy,” you gasp in mock surprise. “You’re so hard for me.”

You barely manage to lap at the head through his pajamas before Seungcheol is putting his muscles you use and crowding you on to your back.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Your lover grunts, ripping your shorts out of the way before diving into his favorite meal. “Say it again.”

“If I do?”

He sucks your clit the same way he kisses; slow and lazy until you’ve got the itch in your gut only quelled by his touch. Seungcheol can do it for hours and he has. Sucking until your eyes water and you practically float to the ceiling. 

The sounds of his mouth tickle your ears. Wet and nasty until he groans into your cunt like he’s never tasted anything better. A stray hand makes for the nest of dark hair still damp from his shower only to be pinned on your gut with enough force you’re tempted to fight to break free.

“Just take it right now,” Seungcheol mumbles around his own tongue. “Be good for me.”

“Fuck, Cheol. Fuck, just like that.” You sob, already breaking cover under the hands of your lover.

First warning comes across your clit with a nip of teeth. “Not my name.”

Your incentive to listen, two thick fingers that know exactly where to play, drive home his request. But if your boyfriend wants what he asked for, then the best way to get him to fully indulge isn’t listening to him. It’s goading him until he makes sure you taste nothing but his cock for the next week. 

Like always, you can’t help a smart comment from bubbling past your lips. “Make. Me.”

Seungcheol doesn’t miss a beat. A single brutal rush of his fingers sends you to the stars. Tongue flat across your sensitive bud, he sucks his cheeks hollow until you whine. There isn’t the usual care he takes even when you’ve been bad with the sole purpose of pushing him to his wits end with hot looks and borderline obscene touches. Seungcheol is wringing you dry with his own sadism. 

The next quip dies on your lips when he curls his tongue inside you between his spread fingers, leaving you feeling dirty in the best way. Watching him eat pussy is like watching an artist but when you go to peek he’s already watching you.

“Beg for it.” Chin and cheeks soaked, even his nose shines in the low light of the lap, Seungcheol fucks you with slow fingers through his next demand. “Beg for it and I’ll let you come like this.”

“Or you can just make me cum?” Your voice gains an octave under the curl of his fingers. Usually he’s eager to give whatever you ask for but not tonight.

“Or you can do what I tell you, ” he sucks into your clit.

Choking on your pout, you trace your foot up his back. “Where’s the fun in that?”

The fun is in your boyfriend, sweet Seungcheol who treats you like a princess without a want left in the world, folding you in half on his cock until you’re crying. He knows it, you know it, and the real foreplay is baiting him into doing it.

“Do you want to cum or not?” He snatches your ankle off his shoulder, pushing until your knee is by your armpit in an impressive show of flexibility. 

“Oh, please daddy make me cum!” You wail sarcastically. It echoes the porn you’ve watched with him in mind and doesn’t taste as bad on your tongue as you thought.

It’s the last straw for now because Seungcheol does the one thing to make you behave. He pulls away.

“Wait, no.” You scramble. Soft touches and softer eyes while you beg. “Baby, please. Please, don’t stop.”

“Come here.”

Planting back in his lap, you rain placating apologetic kisses across his face while your hand plays with his cock. Or you would if Seungcheol didn’t twist your arm and pin it at your spine. 

“Are you ready to be good?”

You hum a yes. Exaggerating for remorse, you nose into the soft spot below his ear you know Seungcheol goes soft for. 

“Then show me.”

This time when you move to take his cock in your mouth, Seungcheol only holds you back to press down his pants. Hard and sticky at the tip. You lick your lips, waiting for permission before cleaning up the mess he’s made for you. You’ll be good until he’s too far gone to stop next time you mouth off.

The taste is one you're accustomed to, coating your tongue as you swallow him down until you nose the coarse hair dusting his base. One hand weighs on the back of your head, stroking gently while you do the dirty work with your tongue.

“Good girl,” he sighs as you mouth around the head with an obscene amount of spit. It drips where your hand squeezes. “Like this, don’t you?”

“Love it.” You mumble around your tongue. “Love your cock.”

Seungcheol’s eyes roam your body like he owns it. The pink of your tongue flush against the maroon cockhead, the curve of your ass in the air for a good show. All his for the taking when he wants. But the air in his lungs is too even. Seungcheol is too in control to let go and you won’t stop until he unravels. 

A hard lick where he leaks is enough to get the game back in motion. 

“Shit. Get up here.”

Cock aching against the soft of his stomach, hair a mess, and flushed from across every visible trace of skin, your boyfriend is a wet dream come to life.

“Hi,” he smiles into your mouth, painfully sweet.

You can’t hide your matching one. “Hi.”

“I love you.” 

Shirt lost over your head, he cups your aching breasts as his thumbs drag across their peaks. 

“I love you too.” You sigh.

“Are you into it or should we stop?”

Meeting in a kiss, you ask, “Into what?”

“You’re really gonna make me say it?”

“I’m a firm believer if a man wants to be called daddy he should be able to say it with his chest.”

“But do you want to call me that?”

“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn't do it.” You snort. “When have you ever been able to get me to agree to something I don’t want to do?”

The answer is never. Your relationship is forever tainted by matching stubborn streaks. If either of you falls to the other it’s because you wanted to all along but needed to be wooed first.

Seungcheol puffs an amused breath into your neck at the shared thought. 

“Am I being too bratty? Is that why you think I don’t like it?” 

“No, I—,” he pauses to gather his thoughts. “I think it—Makes me want to punish you.”

“Really? You fake a gasp, indulging in the lap of his tongue over your jugular. “Tell me more.”

“You’re bad.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You deny with your chin in the air but your hips swivel across his cock to prove his point.

He gets inside you with easy manipulation, ass flat to his thighs so the only place to go is up into his mouth. Seungcheol grunts under the first rock of your hips. “Someone needs to put you in your place.”

“Oh?” Less of a reaction to his words and more to the way he grips the meat of your ass like he owns it. “Sure you’re up for the challenge?”

The hot sheets Seungcheol previously occupied greet your back as he drives back in with his weight center behind his hips. And then he waits.

“Cheol,” you huff.

Another nudge between the thighs accompanied with the sting of his teeth across your nipple. 

“Please?”

Thighs hooked over his own, Seungcheol spreads you out until you’re spread flat and helpless. Your hands got next, tangled in the fabric of the pillow cases above your heads under one palm. 

He gives it all to you. Hot into your core until he tickles the back of your throat but it's not satisfying the itch. He isn’t fucking you, he’s fucking with you. Giving just enough you’ll need more. 

Ankles locking around his spine, you throw your weight into the next desperate plea. “Fuck me, daddy.”

You feel the smirk across his mouth when he kisses you; blistering and wanting, with too much tongue but he gives you the first real cant of his hips and you can’t complain.

Every curl inside leaves you heaving. But there’s no air, just your boyfriend with something to prove and the stubbornness to give it to you.

“Take it just like that.” He grunts, breath lost to the way you curl around him. “Say it again.”

“Oh, yes daddy,” you moan with your head back.

“Look at you. Need it so bad, don’t you?”

The spark of defiance burns into a flame. You're not down deep enough to behave just yet. Seungcheol wants you to be bad, so you’ll be the worst.

“You’re a freak.” And to add insult to injury, you spit in his face.

Seungcheol freezes. Gazes burning, you both wait for him to catch up and match your move. 

Maybe you’ve gone too far. Goading him is one thing, but spitting in faces is his territory. One you’ve never broached on but the tint of red looks good cover in your saliva. Almost like when he eats you out until you cry and black out. 

Your thoughts don’t dwell on how good your man looks covered in you when he sneers.

“I’m a freak?” He scoffs, rising to one arm to leer over you. “Who’s the bitch getting wet from being treated like a slut?”

God. You think. Even after years he can leave you tongue tied. But now that you’ve started whatever this is, you hope Seungcheol will finish it. 

“Hmmm I don’t know,” you sing. You take the opportunity to paint him with more traces of your nails, smooth skin rippling red and pink. He shudders predictably but manages to wrangle you back into place. “Big talk coming from the man who got off on making her cum when his friends were in the same room.”

“Yeah? And who wanted my friends to watch her blow me?”

You open your mouth to talk back but choke on a thumb. He nearly tickles your throat with it, caving your chest with struggle until you can control your breathing.

“Aww, you look so pretty like this.” Seungcheol pats your cheek until you're warm with embarrassment. 

He isn’t as nice when you bite down.

Thumb digging into your tongue until you choke again, the cut of his teeth against your earlobe makes you quake with want as he growls, “You’re done talking.”

If the digit in your mouth wasn’t enough to reduce you to a puddle, his cock is. Fast and brutal, Seungcheol gives it to you the way he knows best. Your end crests faster than you’re prepared for.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry messily. 

Seungcheol’s eyes burn with excitement but he doesn’t stop; he pries your mouth open and spits flat on your tongue.

“Cum for me.” He groans into your cheek. “Let me see my pretty little slut cum.”

Everything aches from the force behind such a command but your body delivers. Tight, tight, tight until the cord snaps and you’re seizing. Your boyfriend controls your thrashing like its easy work, weighed down with his hips and chest and thighs while you wail.

Nerves scorched, you feel him cooing sweet affirmations in your ear but the words fall deaf. Your jaw is wet from his thumb’s gentle stroking, and his stomach is flat to your own; only moving between breaths.

“Good girl, did so good for me. Always do.”

You groan somewhere deep in your throat. “God, that was hot.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding an affirmative, you push him away. Seungcheol goes easily enough. Clearly he’s still not fully in the space he needs to take advantage of his kinks; of your new found, shared fantasy.

Stealing his pillow, you fold it under your hips for the stability the muscles of your legs fail to provide. Ass high in the air, you ground into the sheets.

“More?” he asks. He’s eager, hands pulling at your cheeks, spreading them to get a look at the mess he’s made of your cunt. 

“Wanna see you cum.” Looking over your shoulder with doe eyes and a pout, you sell his fantasy. “Please, daddy.”

Seungcheol guides himself through your damp folds, collecting your arousal with each swipe; nudging against your sensitive clit and chuckling at your responsive shudders until he catches on your entrance. He dares to dip in just barely an inch before pulling back; repeating the dance over and over, sinking deeper with each repetition until the flat of his pelvis is flushed with your skin. 

The stretch is enough to drive you mad, full to the brim and squeezing around the intrusion promising nothing but satisfaction again. Seungcheol doesn’t wait for confirmation. Simply rocking into you with firm pressure as he’s drowned in the scorching clamp of your pussy.

Forcing a hand between your front and the bed to play with your clit, you pant into the pillow as everything multiplies.

“Who does this pussy belong to?”

The fabric below you is ruined with your spit. Fresh sheets put to good use. Cocking over your shoulder you find Seungcheol with his mouth tight and eyes glued where he stretches you. “You wouldn’t know him.” 

Your laughter tastes like acid, high on reward the sick answer will grant you. Immediately, your ass stings with his hand print. Again and again until it aches like a sunburn.

There’s no other choice but to take it. With his other hand between your shoulder blades, Seungcheol fucks you hard enough your teeth chatter.

“Shit! That's what gets you wet?” You hear the sound of his spit against your ass, already soaked that it won’t make a difference but gets you hot anyway. “Pretending anyone else could fuck you like I do?”

A blast of excitement floods your veins. The thrill he’s letting go bit by bit, stringing himself out the way he always manages to get you. “Then fuck this pussy like it belongs to you.”

Collapsing across your back, Seungcheol collars you with one hand to pull you from the shelter of the pillows before spitting, “Spread it for me.”

He fucks you raw and aching. Hard enough you crumble under his hips, hands pinned between his body and your ass. Even through the pillows the clap of skin on skin is deafening. One of his hands takes up the rough circles on your clit. The glide from arousal makes your blood thick.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you wail. “Just like that, fuck!”

“Close?”

Nodding through the tears in your eyes, you let it rush on you. The old neighbors next door will complain tomorrow but you can’t control the lewd whines your boyfriend rips out of you as you cum on his cock. It burns worse than the first time, verging on blacking out your vision but you love it. Like a rubber band, you stretch your ends until it all snaps back, chest curled into the sheets. The cotton roughs your sore nipples but it makes you tighter on his cock.

“Cum inside me! Need it. Please Cheol, please daddy.” 

Seungcheol swells inside you, two earth shaking thrust, and then a moan leaves you filled the way you crave. 

“Jesus Christ,” you pant. Vision blurred, you only vaguely register your boyfriend’s hand stroking along your side while you come down. “I think you got me pregnant. Fuck.” 

Seungcheol’s lips flit across your shoulder, slowly bringing himself back too. “Wouldn’t be mad about that.”

“I know you wouldn’t. Now clean me up.” You demand with your nose in the air. “Next time you should call me daddy.”

“Next time I’ll use those cuffs Jeonghan gave me for Christmas.”

“Damn, you really are a freak.”

Happily, he drags you into the stall for the second shower of the night. Frigid streams sting on your skin but the bastard pouts his way into keeping you in his arms; shivering but full of sleepy smiles under his lips.

“You’re so mean to me!” You shriek, back arching away from the miserable cold tile he corners you into. It’s nice where your ass still stings but everything else blooms in gooseflesh. “This is no way to treat your wife!”

“We aren’t married, yet,” he hums. The edge of disappointment isn’t lost on you.

“And if you don’t want that ring to go to waste you’ll move over.”

Seungcheol sputters, “How’d you find it?”

“Baby,” you coo, cupping his face between wet hands. “You’re the least subtle man I know.” 

“It’s not even in the house!”

“Your life will be so much better when you start believing I know everything.” Booping him on the nose, you smirk with glee. “And remember Mingyu gossips like an old lady.”

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @lovelyhachi @sliceofwoozi @dokyeomkyeom

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[ilovewrittingsmut]

Nanami as your work crush

Wc: 3406

Content: coworker nanami, I hate capitalism,co workers to lovers😩😩😩😩, FLUFF,confessing love, nanami being the best man on earth

A/n: pls don’t make it flop 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔

Despite hating this job with every fiber of your being, you still find yourself waking up at 5 a.m., eager to get ready for work. Why? Because there's this one random blonde guy who makes your heart race more than it should, his mere presence glowing and shining like moonlight.

He often shows up in the most mundane clothes, his face lifeless, only smiling when he absolutely has to. Yet, on some mornings, he arrives with two coffees in hand—one for himself and one for you. You shamelessly admit to yourself that you enjoy this special treatment from him.

"I hate this job."

"Me too."

This is the usual exchange between the two of you, always ending with one of those faint smiles appearing on his handsome face, which inevitably does something to you.

"Actually, I don't hate it that much. There's still something good about this stupid work."

"Besides getting paid?" you ask jokingly, unsure of what he's trying to say.

"Hmm, yes?" He flashes that infuriatingly charming smile before walking away, returning to his work.

——————

During lunch breaks, you, he, and other coworkers usually head out to grab a meal at the coffee shop. You try not to read too much into it, but it seems that whenever you're in a group, he always makes an effort to sit next to you, walk beside you, and engage with you the most. It’s like fuel for the fire, making you fall for him more and more, beyond your control.

"You like pasta?"

"Yep, why?"

"You always order it."

"Yep, I love pasta."

"Me too. You know what, I can cook the best pasta ever."

"I don’t believe you."

"I can cook it for you… if you want."

The idea of eating something your crush has made for you sends a swarm of butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"That’s an honor."

"How about tonight, at my place, if you don’t mind?"

Of course, you don’t mind at all, but the thought of being alone with your crush at his place tonight fills you with a nervous anticipation.

“That sounds great. “

“See you after work then.”

After that, your heart doesn't stop pounding against your ribs for even a second. You know you can’t focus on work now because your mind is too busy daydreaming about what might happen tonight, just you and him, alone, on a cute pasta date.

No, it’s not a date, you quickly remind yourself, trying to erase those fluffy thoughts and ground yourself in reality. You push through the rest of the day, working until 5. (with him as your only motivation)

——————

"Let's leave."

It’s only 4:30, and he's already texted you with this message. You hate yourself a little for thinking that he’s as eager for tonight as you are, but you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. Normally, you’d overwork yourself and stay late, but today, you choose to be kind to yourself and call it a day earlier than usual.

"Ok."

"Great, I’ll pick you up, and we can walk to the parking lot together."

"Ok."

There are countless words you want to scream out of excitement right now, but all your fingers can manage to type is "ok."

And within a minute, he's right behind you, and you can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, so scarlet, so bright. You can only hope he doesn’t notice.

"You’re red, are you sick?"

For god's sake, he never fails to make you flustered.

"I’m good," you reply with a smile and a forced giggle.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, let’s go," you say, your voice overly cheerful.

You try to keep everything seeming normal, as if you're not secretly dreaming about kissing his lips right at that moment.

—————

"Is it too cold?" he asks as you settle into his car.

"No… not at all, everything is perfectly fine."

God, you sound like Mickey Mouse right now, trying so hard to conceal your nerves that it comes off as unnatural.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?"

No, not at all…not really. The word "uncomfortable" isn't the right fit, it's more like "nervous." He makes you so nervous.

"No, I’m okay, really. Please stop worrying."

"How can I not worry about you?" he murmurs, his voice soft as he throws his arm behind your seat to back up the car. You catch a glimpse of those veins, and WOW who could blame you for daydreaming about this big, gorgeous man?

"Why? What is it about me that makes you so worried?"

"You’re always so hard on yourself, working too much and doing OT almost every day," he says, and you’re genuinely flattered by his concern. Little does he know, the reason you stay late is just to spend more time in the workplace with him, the hardworking man who makes the long hours bearable. And yes, he's also right, you’re always so tough on yourself, trying to prove that you're good enough to be here, to be working there.

"You’re always overworking yourself too, Nanami," you reply, and little do you know that he does it for the same reason. He loves to watch you from afar while you’re absorbed in your work. He cherishes the midnight coffees with you, making even the harshest nights feel like a dream.

“I guess it would be best for us if we stopped overworking and had more homemade dinners like this,” he suggests. Is he asking you out?

“Sure.”

“I hate seeing you drink five cups of coffee a day instead of having a proper meal. I can cook a lot, and I’m really good at it.”

“Are you talking a big game?” you tease him, his words always find the way to make you genuinely laugh.

“I can cook for you every day. You deserve to eat something good for your health and taste.”Now, your stomach is doing the thing,not the rumbling with hunger, but tickled with overwhelming butterflies. You feel like you might burst if you don’t get a handle on it soon.

“That’s really sweet. Thank you, Nanami.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? You can call me Kento.”

He’s older than you, and you hold a deep respect and admiration for him. Using just his name feels like it brings an intimacy you’re not sure you can handle, and you’re terrified that you might not be able to keep your feelings in check any longer.

"No, I can't."

"Yes, you can."

You try to resist, knowing you might actually die from blushing too hard.

"I prefer you to call me by my name.” “Kento Or Ken, your choice."

Your entire insides feel like they're about to explode. Why does he have to be so cute? You want to be the one who gets to call him "Ken," such an adorable name. And "Baby" or "Honey" would sound amazing on him too. You long to be the only one who gets the chance to call him those sweet names.

"Kento…" you whisper, so softly that you can barely hear your own voice. The only thing echoing in your ears is the sound of your racing heartbeat.

"That’s... I like that. It sounds great coming from you." Is he trying to kill you or something? You might actually get a heart attack if he keeps being this cute.

—————-

As you arrive at his house, you're greeted by a beautiful garden filled with flowers. The sight is so sweet, making you smile as you take it all in.

When you step inside, you immediately sense warmth and comfort. His home is impeccably organized and tidy, what an ideal man.

"Make yourself at home," he says, guiding you to the living room. You sit on the couch as he turns on the television for you. Then, he heads to the nearby kitchen and begins preparing the ingredients for your dinner. The whole scene feels surreal, like you’ve stepped into a dream where everything is just perfect.

"I can help," you say, getting up from the couch and following him into the kitchen.

"Let me, please. You have just one job is to sit, wait, and enjoy our dinner."

That's probably the hottest thing a man could say, and you can't help but feel greedy, wanting him all to yourself. The thought of anyone else having him makes you irrationally jealous. You can only hope that everything he’s doing is because he likes you too, at least half as much as you're falling for him.

"Can I watch?"

"You can," he replies with a smile.

You giggle a bit as he chops the vegetables. "Enjoy the view?," he adds.

Very much, you think, though you only say, "Probably..." with a playful smile lingering on your lips. You want to kiss him so badly right now.

Little do you know, he's doing his best to focus on the knife and the vegetables because it's nearly impossible for him to tear his eyes away from your pretty little face.

He needs to kiss your lips so badly, it can actually kill him.

——————

After an hour of talking and exchanging glances filled with unspoken tension, the two plates of pasta are finally served. Yours is carbonara, and his is pomodoro, both look incredibly delicious.

He doesn’t stop watching you as you take your first big bite.

"How’s that?" His voice is filled with anticipation.

"Ummm," you murmur, savoring the taste. "I think this is the best pasta I’ve ever had in my entire life."

At your words, he smiles and laughs, as if he’s just won an Oscar. But to him, it’s not about the pasta…it’s about you. You’re bigger than any prize on earth.

As the hour passes, you find yourselves gossiping about coworkers, chit-chatting about random things, talking about work and food, and eventually landing on a more serious topic…

"Are you seeing anyone?" he asks, and your heart rate skyrockets.

"No," you reply, trying to stay composed, as if you’ve never dreamed of being asked this question by him.

"Are you interested in dating?" he continues.

Yes, yes, fuck yesssss only for you, you think, but instead, you ask, "Why do you ask? Are you trying to flirt with me or something?" You mean it as a joke, not really expecting an answer.

"What if I say yes?"

Your pupils widen at his response. "What?" You are so shocked, can’t really comprehend anything now.

"I'm sorry—"

"No, I think I heard you wrong."

"No, you didn’t… but if you’d rather stay just friends, I’ll understand and respect that."

“I think…no, I know I love you. I’m sorry if this ruins our friendship, but if you don’t feel the same way, just tell me, and we can go back to how things were.”

His gaze is so soft, unlike anything you’ve ever seen from him. He hesitates for a moment, licking his bottom lip quickly before speaking again.

“I love the way you always show up with a genuine smile, even though I know you hate working here. I love how you joke around just to make people laugh, how you make fun our boss, how incredibly smart and beautiful you are. I’m nothing compared to you.”

He pauses, searching your face, trying to read your expression. “You make me want to live like a normal salaryman. I’m on top of the world every time you say, ‘See you tomorrow’ because I’m the one who gets a chance to see you tomorrow and another tomorrow and every other single day. I want to come to work every day just to spend as much time as I can admiring you, being next to you. I want to be the one who takes care of you. You make my ordinary life feel so special, and I love you…most ardently.”

Is it the wine you’ve had? Are you dreaming, or is he really confessing his love to you?

“Are you drunk?” you ask, your voice trembling slightly, still in disbelief at what you’ve just heard.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Hell no, I’m not,” he replies, his voice steady and sincere. His eyes lock onto yours, full of a quiet intensity that leaves no room for doubt.

“I truly love you.”

The words hang in the air between you, so heavy with meaning that it feels like the world has paused. You can feel your heart racing, pounding against your chest as you try to process everything. The warmth of the room, the soft glow of the lights, and the remnants of dinner, all of it fades into the background. All you can focus on is him, as he’s standing up from his chair and pouring his heart out in the most genuine way.

His expression is earnest, a mix of vulnerability and determination. This is the man who, just moments ago, was making you laugh with casual banter, and now he’s baring his soul to you, leaving himself completely exposed. You can see the slight tension in his posture, as if he’s bracing himself for whatever might come next, yet there’s also a softness in his gaze that you’ve never seen before.

He takes a step closer, reaching out as if he wants to touch you but stops himself, respecting your space. “I’ve thought about this for so long,” he continues, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

“Every day, I’ve held back, afraid of ruining what we have. But I can’t keep pretending that my feelings aren’t there. You’re all I think about, and I can’t stand the idea of not telling you how I feel. Even if it means risking everything.”

Your mind races, trying to catch up with the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you as you can feel the way his breath hitches slightly as he waits for your response, the subtle tremor in your hands as you try to steady yourself.

This is real, you realize. He’s not joking, not exaggerating. He’s laying his heart at your feet, hoping you’ll pick it up and keep it safe. And in that moment, you know that this is a turning point, a moment that will change everything between you.

You swallow hard, trying to find your voice, trying to navigate through the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. “I…” you start, but the words catch in your throat, too tangled up in the disbelief and joy and fear all mingling together.

“I’m sorry, you must be so uncomfortable right now. Let me get you home… It’s already late, and I can’t let you go alone.”

No, he’s got it all wrong. You’re not uncomfortable you’re just too overwhelmed with joy that you can’t find any words to describe it . But he doesn’t give you a chance to explain, assuming the worst.

“Okay,” you respond, the word slipping out before you can stop it. Maybe it’s because a small part of you wonders if he’s actually drunk, that maybe he didn’t mean to say those things and now regrets it. Maybe he just wants to get you home and forget this ever happened.

But you can’t let it end like this. “You can walk me home. It’s 15 minutes from here, no need for a car,” you say, trying to break through the invisible barrier that’s suddenly risen between you. You’re lying it’s almost 45 minutes away but you just want to be with him a little longer, to figure out what’s really going on.

“Really,never know that you live around here.” Of course he doesn’t know. “Doesn’t matter let’s go.” he agrees, giving you a soft smile, though there’s a sigh that escapes him, as if he wants to say more but is holding back.

—————

As you both step out into the cool night air, the silence between you is thick with unspoken words. He falls into step beside you, the warmth of his presence just a breath away. The tension from before lingers, but there’s also a tenderness in the quiet moments as you walk side by side, neither of you in a hurry to reach your destination.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable tonight. I just… I couldn’t keep it in anymore. But I’ll understand if you need time or if you want to pretend none of this happened.” Finally, he speaks again, his voice gentle but firm.

“No,” you blurt out, the word catching in your throat as you stare at him. “Ken…” His name falls from your lips, soft and gentle, as if it caresses his heart.

“Listen to me,” you continue, holding up a hand before he can respond. “Don’t say anything right now. Just… let me get this out.”

You take a deep breath, the weight of your emotions bubbling up inside you, and you decide the only way you can say this is through a story, a safe distance between you and the overwhelming truth. “I’m going to tell it in the third person, because saying it directly feels too embarrassing.”

He tilts his head slightly, waiting, but his eyes don’t leave yours. You press on.

“There’s a woman,” you begin softly, “the most ordinary woman. She got this job a year ago, and everything changed. She had to move away from her hometown, didn’t know anyone here, and for a while, she felt so alone.”

Your voice trembles slightly as you continue, but you push through. “Then she met this man. Just a regular, normal guy. He hated the job, just like she did, only doing it to pay his bills. But there was something about him…something about his smile, about how he always showed up when she needed someone. And that smile, no matter how much she tried to ignore it, never failed to drive her insane.”

You risk a glance at him, and his expression has softened, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. You swallow, continuing your story. “They became close, coworkers, friends. But she wanted more. She needed more. So she started working overtime, just to have a little extra time with him.”

“And today,” you say, your voice lowering, “it’s like a dream come true for her. The man she’s been in love with since she started working here…he feels the same way about her. But it’s so hard to believe, so good that it doesn’t even seem real. She doesn’t know what to say, so her silence makes him think she’s rejecting him, even though it’s the furthest thing from the truth.”

You finish, the last words hanging in the air between you, fragile but full of meaning. You look at him, your heart pounding in your chest, unsure of what he’ll say.

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, his lips curl into a gentle, knowing smile. “So… what happens next in this story?”

“I don’t know,” you murmur, turning your head just enough to avoid meeting his eyes. “You tell me.”

He gently reaches out, his hand warm as it grazes your knuckles, and slowly your fingers intertwine. “He takes her hand, just like this,” he says with a tenderness that makes your heart race. “And he realizes he's the luckiest man on earth.”

Your breath hitches as he continues, “He’s so happy, now that he gets to hold the hands of the girl he adores.”

You look up at him, his gaze filled with a warmth you’ve longed to see for so long. “What happens next?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“He kisses her,” he says, leaning just a little closer before adding, “Only if she wants that.”

Your soft giggle fills the space between you. “Yes, she definitely wants that.”

He smiles, closing the remaining distance between you, his hand gently cupping your face as his lips meet yours in a tender, lingering kiss. The moment feels unreal, yet more vivid than anything you’ve ever known. The night seems to glow, not from the moon or stars, but from the way he makes your world brighter.

In his arms, love no longer feels like a distant mystery… it’s here, in the touch of his lips, in the warmth of his embrace, in the quiet joy that fills your heart. And suddenly, being a "normal" person in the ordinary grind of life seems more than enough because now, you have him.

How wonderful life is, even in the mundane, when it's shared with someone like him.

[tkaulitzlvr]

hii can u pls do c0ckwarming with tom omg

STAY STILL - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: tom can’t wait any longer, but knows that you are too tired to fix his problem the way he wants you to. but you can’t deny the need slowly becoming mutual so, you decide to meet him halfway, and he doesn’t complain.

content: smut (not full sex, just what the req says lol)

a/n: thanku for the req!! SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING, hopefully this makes up for it! literally screaming and giggling whilst writing this (help), also the way he moves his tongue in this vid HELLO (need it inside me) ++there won’t be a part two (don’t hate me!) my upload schedule is just too irregular, i have a ton of requests and just don’t think i’d be able to write one, in the future if i’m less busy i may come back to this!!

“please baby, i’ll do all the work, i promise.” tom pleads for probably the tenth time, digging his head into the crook of my neck and placing open-mouthed kisses onto the skin, whining lowly against it. any other time, i would’ve given in the second his lips made contact with my neck, and he knows this, deciding to try his luck once again. however right now, the circumstances don’t work in tom’s favour, much to his annoyance. i am too tired to even properly decline his request, sighing loudly and shaking my head as my eyes flutter closed. this isn’t enough for tom, my lack of response not a concrete ‘no’, this all he needs to press himself against me once more, hoping that it would be just enough to push me toward that three letter word he has been longing for me to say. whilst our proximity doesn’t do that just yet, the frequent motion of tom’s hips rocking against my waist reminds me just how desperate he is, the hardness evident through his boxers - not that the cotton left much to be imagined anyway.

“baby i’m tired, tomorrow, okay?” i sigh out, half-heartedly pushing tom away as a frustrated groan leaves his lips. though he fails to see the mischievous grin that spreads across my face with the small push that i place to his chest when he flops beside me, clearly not understanding what i am doing. honestly, i wouldn’t have minded lazy sex - tom never complains when he does all the work and, if i give in, it will make him shut up, his whining already getting on my nerves, whether he is trying to irritate me or not. but, watching the way his face furrows in utter frustration, wincing every so often at the pain that begs for a release from underneath his boxers, gives me the motivation to tease him just a little more - but in the end, i am more than willing to give him what he wants, or at least, meet in the middle.

“fuck.” he mutters under his breath, wincing a little at my response, eyes squeezing shut as his chest heaves up and down, loud and shaky breaths escaping his lips, making it hard to close my eyes and finally fall asleep. i know that he won’t give up yet, so, i lay silently, wondering how long it will take for him to continue pleading me to let go and give him what he wants. and, as expected, not even two minutes pass before his hand snakes around my waist from behind? his body pressing itself firmly against my back.

“this isn’t gonna go away baby, shit- i’m sorry, just, please…let me do something.” he sighs out, a low whine following his plea, hand firmly squeezing my waist whilst his head buries itself into my neck, teeth digging into the skin softly. “fuck- need you so bad, please.”

a small laugh leaves my lips, stifled quickly once i purse them shut, thinking out loud as my amusement towards his desperation quickly becomes evident. tom stops his slow kisses against my neck, whipping his head upward in confusion, failing to see how i could possibly be laughing right now. “what’s so funny? seriously schatz, this fucking hurts. please, just let me take care of it. i won’t be long, just need to feel you.”

his voice reduces to a mumble, eyebrows knitting together once again, though a wave of relief visibly washes over his expression when i roll my eyes, sighing in -totally forged- annoyance, though he doesn’t recognise that. all he realises is that he is getting something, not even completely sure what, but in this moment, anything at all would be enough for him to release - he is far too desperate to be picky. soon enough, he hauls himself up, hurriedly undoing the button of his oversized jeans and tugging them from his frame, carelessly throwing them onto the floor. and god, if i had thought his problem looked bad through the denim, then i am quickly proven wrong, the firm print of his dick through his boxers almost painfully prominent. his hand brushes against it, the cotton of his underwear now creating more friction, his head falling backward as a low groan sounds from the back of his throat, showing just how sensitive he really is, and now i know that it won’t take a lot to give him what he craves.

he quickly moves to climb on top of me, not getting far as my hand rests flat against his bare chest, halting his movement. his eyebrows furrow in confusion, mouth opening to protest my resistance, though i interject, deciding that if he wants me that badly, then he shouldn’t complain about how he gets me.

“mmm, no. sit back baby, i want to try something.” i whisper, teeth grazing the skin just below his ear, tongue running over it afterward as his eyes flutter open and closed, mouth hanging open with a small smirk on his face. he nods his head quickly, sliding backward until his upper half rests against the headboard, head tilted upward and legs sprawled onto the bed. his hands however, fail to be so still, reaching outward hopelessly and grabbing me by my waist, fingers digging into the flesh as he pulls me on top of him.

he winces loudly once i sit directly on top of his chest, the sound soon turning into a low moan, mouth dropping downward into an ‘o’ shape at the dangerously addictive mix of pain and pleasure that i give him. i smirk in satisfaction at his desperation, finding it almost pitiful, watching intently at the way his eyes flutter, on the verge of closing, though they manage to stay half lidded, soon shooting open when my small fingers make contact with the waistband of his boxers. his breathing becomes more erratic, hands flying to my hips once more, chest rising up and down at an even faster pace. right now, wearing only a small pair of shorts and crop top appears to work perfectly in my favour, and tom’s, as his hands reach to pull the strap down, lips soon attaching themselves to my breast, whilst my own hands move my shorts down my body, tugging tom’s boxers down soon after.

his eyes are fixed on where our bodies connect once i line myself up, sliding down onto him at an agonisingly slow pace, wincing slightly at the feeling of being stretched out, going from being totally empty to so full within the space of a few seconds. tom is way out of it, and had been ever since i began to sink onto him, his mouth uttering low curses and grunts under his breath, nails digging into the flesh of my waist, teeth occasionally digging into his bottom lip.

“fuck schatz, yeah…you’re so tight, so good for me.” he utters when i bottom out, though his satisfaction doesn’t last long, eyes quickly opening once he realises that i am not moving, instead staying still with him still inside of me. he decides against questioning my behaviour, his hips beginning to thrust upwards as a slow pace, incoherent whines leaving his lips as he does so.

“ah ah ah…” i begin, lifting my hips upward and almost completely off of him, hand moving to rest firmly against his chest. he slows his movements, pushing my hips so that he is inside of me once again. “no moving baby, just let me sit. stay still, okay?”

i clench around him unconsciously, moaning quietly as he groans under his breath, clearly holding back from snapping his hips upward again. “fuck baby, you’re fucking killing me, you know that?” he confesses, shaking his head slowly, eyes lustful as they stare into my own, the pools of brown silently communicating exactly what he wants to do, the intent behind them nothing close to innocent. but, no matter how tempting it sounds to let him take control, to reverse the roles and have me pinned beneath him, thrusting in and out of me whilst muttering confirmations of how good i feel, how perfect i am, i enjoy seeing him like this, completely helpless underneath me, begging for something, anything, other than the teasing that i keep up, and i don’t intend on giving in.

“you wanted this, right?” i taunt, lips curving upward into an innocent smile, my thoughts anything but, aware of what i am doing, the frustration that takes over his expression proof of my success. “i thought you wanted me, like this…” my voice is low and suggestive, thick as honey, words as addictive as a drug, and he continues to take them all in. my lips make contact right next to his ear, slowly kissing just below it, digging my teeth in afterward, his hips jolting upward at the sensation. and if that wasn’t enough, when i adjust myself on top of him, moving my lips ever so slightly, that is when he loses it, head quickly rolling backward, mouth dropping open, a deep groan sounding from the back of his throat.

“oh my god, fuck- you’re driving me insane, please just- do something.” his voice is shaky, cut off by small groans, his tongue coming outward to play with his lip ring, flicking the silver metal in small circles, all whilst his eyes never leave my own, the desperation within them never diminishing.

“nope, you’ll live baby.” i state in response, leaning forward and resting my chest against his, wrapping my arm around his frame and sighing nonchalantly, closing my eyes. “i told you i was tired.” as i do so, he shifts his weight underneath me, slightly altering the angle that his dick rests inside of me, his eyes squeezing shut at the feeling. no matter how much he wants something more, he doesn’t refuse my embrace, wrapping his arms around my back, his hands tracing circles along the bare skin, lifting up my crop top and resting underneath it.

minutes pass like this, my walls clenching around him every so often, getting him just a little more riled up, enough to make him sigh out in pleasure and groan at the feeling of slight relief, though it is never enough to satisfy him, just enough to keep him on the verge of losing his mind, to keep him guessing, waiting for something more than just being inside of me. this feels like more of a punishment than a reward to him, the frustrated groans he lets out only seeming to get louder, though he doesn’t give in, knowing that he could thrust upwards into me - all it would take is a slight movement of his hips and he would have me, yet he holds back, almost testing his own willpower, even though we both know that it is non-existent, no matter how hard he tries to convince himself otherwise.

and it doesn’t take long for him to finally reach his breaking point, no longer able to handle just having me here, sitting beneath me helplessly, his mind encouraging him to move, whilst his body is too desperate, too completely needy, to even comply with his unholy thoughts. instead, he voices them as a request, trying once again to elicit something from my own still body.

“kiss me.” he mutters into the silence as my head remains rested in the crook of his neck, hearing slightly muffled. though the quiet doesn’t show it, he is becoming more restless, breathing getting louder and faster, his hold on me tighter, almost inaudible whines sounding from the back of his throat every so often.

“hm?” i mumble half-heartedly, lacking the energy to lift my head upward from where it had been resting, staying still within his embrace instead. my thumbs trace the firmness of his back, travelling over each bump, each muscle, all coated with a thin line of sweat, all of it evidence of just how needy he is for this.

“i said kiss me.” he repeats, somewhere on the verge of desperation and frustration, clearly not willing to let me take control of him anymore. as he speaks, his hand moves from my back, making contact with my chin, using it to lift my head upward so my eyes look straight into his own, faces inches apart. warm and heavy, his breath fans against my face when he speaks, the close proximity and admitted need for him creating a light shade of pink to etch upon my cheeks, though it is nothing compared to the helplessness that tom displays, his words proving it if that isn’t enough. “no more games. just fucking kiss me.”

something inside me snaps. whether it is the close proximity, his enticing gaze, or the time that i have spent on top of him, doing nothing to pleasure either of us, it doesn’t matter anymore. all that i am certain of is that i no longer want to tease him, placing my lips onto his quickly. the kiss is slow and gentle as i initiate it, tom reciprocating it, his shoulders quickly relaxing as he already receives some relief after waiting for so long. though it is too soft, too reluctant, too tender for him. he wants more, and he wastes no time in acting on his desire, pressing his lips more firmly against my own, deepening the kiss and biting down roughly onto my bottom lip as it parts in response, allowing him to slip his tongue inside.

and when my hips jolt upwards slightly at his sudden movement, he soon realises that he has me where he wants - still inside of him, and that realisation is all it takes for his hips to snap upwards, thrusting in and out of me at a fast pace. his hands find my lower back, trailing down to my ass and roughly cupping the flesh, using them to quicken his thrusts and allow my bounces to meet them, fingers leaving harsh red marks in place of the soft skin. the distance between our faces only increases beyond a few inches once i let out a loud moan, smiling in satisfaction.

he places one final kiss on my lips, flipping us over in one swift motion whilst staying inside of me. i cry out when his tip hits the sensitive spot inside of me, though i soon play it off, attempting to return my facial expression to something as close as neutral as i can get it - on the inside, i am screaming, silently begging for him to carry on. but he doesn’t. his eyes twinkle with satisfaction, enjoying the way i lay helplessly beneath him, even though moments ago, the roles were completely reversed. he picks up on my attempt to act casual, aware that i am just as desperate as he is, if not more, my entire being transparent, almost pathetically easy to decipher to him.

“this whole nonchalant act doesn’t suit you baby. you can stop acting like you don’t want it, we both know you’ll be screaming in a couple minutes, watch.”

those are the final words he says before reconnecting his lips to mine and speeding up his thrusts, soon proving his bold statement to be nothing short of the truth, making my temporary dominance seem a fragment of my imagination within seconds.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[h-hollieskz]

ALMOST THERE

introduction | masterlist

->pairing : sub lee know x dom gn reader

->word count : 700+

->synopsis : lee know

->tw : idrk with this one, edging?, use of kitten once (I couldn’t resist sorry)

->authors note : was considering putting this in the tw, but this whole thing is incredibly sloppy and low key shit, but I’m just trying to get back into the habit of posting so bear with me

What you could only describe as the cry of an angel escaped your boyfriend’s plush lips as your fingers curled up onto his spot, his half-lidded eyes the epitome of a man far too gone to form a coherent sentence. Leaking on his stomach was his achingly hard cock, neglected through your teasing and cruel ministrations and you didn’t have any intention of getting him off any time soon.

Every time his body began to convulse, heart rate rising just a little too high, you’d pull away, leaving him to chase his orgasm desperately, tugging on the binds that held his wrists. He’d never pictured himself in this position and had you asked him a few months ago if he’d consider it he’d have scoffed in your face.

You see, your usually so proudly dominant boyfriend had agreed to a bet, allowing you to take control for one night, granted that you beat him at bowling (his pride certainly had gotten ahead of him considering his shaky skills at the sport). Despite not exactly being so great at it yourself, you still managed to beat him with quite some points between you both. The look on his face had been priceless.

Let’s just say that well, that night Minho learned some things about himself.

He’d already been denied twice at this point, and this is where previously you had given in. You reckoned he could take more though.

Lube squelched as you drove two fingers into his loose hole, aiming directly for his prostate each time and basking in the small yelps he let out, similar to the mew of a cat. His small hands were clasped together, knuckles turning white, in the soft fabric that tethered them together and his legs squirmed helplessly beneath your weight. Your hand danced around his crotch, caressing his thighs which you admired so greatly.

His pink lips were open in a small, delicate ‘o’ as he could feel himself approaching his release again, believing for a second that you were going to let him and whining as your touch departed again.

“Pl-please. I haven’t done anything wrong.” He gasped lightly. It was almost phrased as a question, begging you to tell him what he’s done. His usual grouchy tone returning slightly as he remarked, “just let me cum already.”

It was cute you decided. He believed that it would work. What he didn’t realise is how much harder he was making it on himself as you gripped his jaw like a vice, staring him cold in the eyes.

“Good kittens don’t make demands, they take what they are given.” You said through gritted teeth before continuing “If you don’t want it, you know your safeword.”

His glare began to soften as he gulped, his eyes squeezing shut as your hand found his cock, gliding it up and down his length agonisingly slowly. In a second you’d give him what he wanted, judging that he was right, he had done as you’d asked that evening, and you already pushed him so far. He deserved a treat. You just had to make him suffer a tad bit more first.

“You look so beautiful like this, you know that right.” His scrunched up face barely reacted to your words, but he let out another small whimper. You reinserted your fingers into his wet heat, Minho’s face relaxing slightly as he lost himself again.

It wasn’t long until he was at the edge again, a few beads of sweat noticeable in his hairline. He had gotten considerably noisier, the closer he got, eyes refusing to open right until he tipped over, body convulsing in pleasure as his orgasm rocked through him. It was more intense than any other he had experienced, and you made sure to kiss and ease him through it until the aftershocks were over. A sheen of sweat covered him as he flopped back, and you quickly undid his wrists.

“You handled that so well, baby.” You mumbled into his ear, peppering him with kisses, “did you enjoy it?”

“Yeah.” You faintly heard him say, and you didn’t press for more information.

“Do you want a bath?” You asked, ready to jump up and go run it for him.

“In a few minutes, jus want to lie here with you for a bit.” He whispered into your neck where you held him.

honestly gonna cry

[teddynivvy]

SUB. SCHLATT.

ive been DEVOURING every little thing you’ve posted today

OKAY THATS ALL BYE, LOVELY!!!

ok i’ve posted a ton of smut today so pls forgive me but this request has been sitting in my brain and i fear a pathetic lil schlatt makes me feel very 🥰🥰 so here we go (nsfw, afab!reader, heavy mommy kink!!)

sub!schlatt who loves being your good boy. kissing up and down your body, you barely paying attention to him as you keep your focus on your book.

he’s begging you to pay attention to him - touch him, anything - his cock aching in his boxers as he ruts up against the side of the bed and kisses your thighs. you part them slightly, giving him just enough access to nuzzle over the lingerie he purchased for you, feeling the warmth of your pussy against his lips.

his fingers hook along the lace, looking up to meet your gaze. “can i please?” he asks, warm brown eyes full of need. you look down at him, nodding slightly before he eagerly pulls down your panties and gets to work. mouth on your warm pussy, kissing, lapping at you as if it was the last thing he’d ever taste. his facial hair tickled your inner thighs as you finally put down what you were reading, carding your fingers through his hair and cooing at him.

“such a good boy for me,” you praise, feeling his tongue start to lap at your hole. “you’re being so good for mommy, aren’t you?”

a sharp tug on his hair when he doesn’t reply - “yes, yes mommy, i’m your good boy.” his lips glistened with your slick, drunk on the taste. “what do you say for not responding?” he gulps, eyes falling. “sorry, mommy.”

“good,” you smile, taking his chin in your hand and flipping to position your pussy over his face. you lean back, watching as he begins to kiss your clit again, hot tongue against your core. “yes, don’t stop.”

your hand finds his achingly hard cock, and he moans when you wrap around him. thick in your palm, you lick a broad stripe up and begin to jerk and twist, watching as his hips bucked up into the slickness.

he moans deeply into your pussy, hands coming up to hold your thighs. he begins to whimper, and you look down as he continues to work hard on your core.

“are you gonna make mommy cum, baby?” he nods fervently, tongue against your hot wet cunt as you ride his face to your heart’s desire. reckless abandon as you grind into him, his tongue in your hole and nose rubbing against your clit, forcing you to gush all over his face as your grip leaves his cock to dive forward and steady yourself.

once you catch your breath, you push his hair out of his face and grin down at him. his chest is heaving, pink tip flopped over onto his stomach, ready to burst. your hand finds it again, jerking him off and watching as he began to unravel.

“you were such a good boy for making mommy cum, weren’t you?” he nods between your thighs. “you want me to make you cum, baby?”

“please,” he breathes out, eyes screwing shut as he tries to hold off. he’s so embarrassed to be like this, pink cheeks, pinned under the weight of you on his chest as you jerk him off helplessly. “please let me come.”

“ok,” you laugh, and he almost thinks he heard you wrong. “can i?” “you want me to say it again?”

he loves when he’s challenged - when the woman he loves and trusts is on top of him, telling him what to do, taking complete control. that thought makes his cock explode, white ropes of cum painting his stomach and whimpers from his mouth being muffled by the skin of your thighs still covering his mouth.

“good baby,” you coo down at him, feeling his cock twitch as a few last spurts come out. “such a good boy for me, aren’t you jay?”

spent, fucked out, all he can do is nod. he kisses your thighs, smiling up at you as he catches his breath. “thank you mommy.”

[jamminvroomvroom]

Charles asking for you honest opinion on the Monza special suit

this was fun to write! thank you for the request xo

warnings: minors dni with my work pls! teasing, fluff, slightly suggestive for a second at the end

you glanced between him and the test shots he’d handed you, biting your tongue.

“what? what is it, amour?” charles asked, whining slightly at your stifled amusement.

“can i get a big mac and a diet coke?” you asked, letting out a laugh that you’d tried so hard to fight off.

charles rolled his eyes, tongue in cheek, trying to pretend that he didn’t already know how ridiculous he and carlos looked. he flopped back onto his sofa, trying to tune into the sounds from the street below drifting into his apartment, the hustle and bustle of the monegasque streets, rather than your chiming laughter.

“i’m sorry, baby, i know how hard it can be to drive for ferrari.” you teased, sitting beside him and curling into his side.

“if you think i look ridiculous, imagine what all the fans think.” charles laughed awkwardly, slapping his hand over his eyes in feigned concern.

“i don’t think you need to worry too much ‘il predestinato’, if the tifosi were gonna abandon you for what you wear, they would have done it by now.” you smirked, jumping off the sofa.

charles choked out a laugh, managing to land a slap on your ass as you bounded away in the direction of your shared bedroom. you turned back to him, batting your eyelashes, a coy smile gracing your face.

“i much prefer you without any clothes on, anyway.” you winked, disappearing into the room without looking back.

he followed, of course, and the clown suit he was set to wear that coming weekend was quickly forgotten.

[blurrymind11]

Donnie!

(Pls don’t let this flop! Sorry for begging but i worked so hard and am really proud of it!)

Also don’t forget to leave feedback! I appreciate people asking about/pointing out details! Or stuff thats off

He’s so stupid and smart at the same time! He’s just a lil guy! Who’s like my age? But im taller than him so still

I think this is the best rendered art ive done recently! The silhouette and shapes could be better but i fall in more realism kinda for some reason?

[bleubrri]

۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ ɪᴛ’s ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ ! — ᴊᴇᴀɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

༄ؘ ˑ contains: best friends → lovers , mutual pining , costumes errywhere , dry humping , m!oral , jean whining n whimpering hehe , reader bein kinda bossy >:7 , black coded!fem!reader , vaginal sex , creampie [ maybe more idk bro it’s 3am @_@ ]

༄ؘ ˑ wc: SIGH 4k :/

༄ؘ ˑ a/n: this is for the if you really think that you can stomach me collab by the light of my life @strawberrystepmom !! i wanted to post it in october but i’m useless so forgive me T^T lil talk about protection in there—communication is sexc!! also pls use condoms + practice safe sex xoxo

"these are all awful." you whine, sitting against jeans headboard and scrolling through his 'costume ideas' pinterest board.

he’s got his head underneath the desk, trying to fish out the mario kart disc thats fallen down the back, so his response is muffled. "they’re the most popular ones from the last decade!"

"jean, i am not wearing any of these."

he shuffles back out, dust covered disc in hand and pouting down at you. "there isn't one that you like?"

"not remotely."

"you’re being picky." he says, slotting the disc into the console and tossing you the player 1 controller.

"i’m being honest." you mutter, scrolling past a particularly awful rendition of a cops & robbers costume. he flops onto the bed and rests his head on your shoulder, peeking at the screen.

"y'know I worked really hard cultivating this. hours of research and painstaking decisi—hey!" his head knocks against the headboard when you yank yourself from under his weight.

"you're so annoying.." you mutter, navigating the homescreen and selecting grand prix. the character and course selection are accompanied with jeans babbling (we’ve gotta pick a good one—the standards are high! maybe i should just pick and force a decision on you—) that earns him unconvinced grunts and looks of skepticism.

the subject gets temporarily lost in the chaos that naturally ensues when jean selects rainbow road, 3 minutes of screaming and curses and shuffling onto your knees to get a better vantage point. it isn’t until the final lap when your item box is shuffling that you pipe up, “i guess we don’t have to do something matching..”

jean almost veers off of the track.

he frowns, glancing at your profile as he tries to maintain his first place spot. “…what?” he says. you’ve always dressed up together. since you were kids halloween had been your guys’ favourite holiday, and yet here you were suggesting that you break a years long (albeit unofficial) october tradition.

“i mean we could just go as separate things? if that makes it easier.” and it seems like appropriate timing when you unleash a blue shell and obliterate jeans universe.

you’re glowing, shrieking in triumph as you pass the finish line and leave jean in the dust. he watches your characters parade around the winners podium with a clenched jaw and sinking feeling.

“sure.” he agrees, tight lipped smile making you pause. you didn’t really expect him to agree—you’d only suggested it in case he had a particular costume that he was set on wearing. jean had always been the one to pick your costumes, you just went along with it, and always ending up looking decent so you couldn’t complain. he was always more into the whole idea of dressing up anyway. but you hadn’t really anticipated him ditching your thing in order to.. what, impress some new college friends?

you blink at him, a protest like the cork of a wine bottle, stuck in your throat and threatening to choke you. “cool.” you manage, “just.. let me know what you’re going as, yeah?”

“tryna scope out the competition?”

you give him a good natured shove, rolling your eyes as a smile fights it’s way across your face.

something like that, you think.

-

this was a bad fucking idea.

as the rhythmic percussion from the speakers gets close enough to rattle your bones, it starts to set in that jean was right. people have taken their costumes really fucking seriously. there are a few token stragglers: eren, in a hoodie and a purge mask and a short, raven haired senior with faux fangs and devil horns. but for the most part all you can see is elaborate sfx gore, girls in animal ears and enough fabric to border on public indecency. and everyone looks great.

you feel pathetic, turning up in a matching costume unbeknownst to your best friend. what if he’s mad? you’d gone from feeling somewhat pretty to utterly mortified in the span of a tacky monster mash-grime remix. your internal debate of whether to bolt back down the road and uber home is interrupted by connie (gruesomely accurate stitches and foam kitchen knife complementing his chucky outfit) who tackles you in a bear hug that reeks of tequila.

“y’look great!” he slurs, clinging to you for so long that he starts swaying.

stifling a laugh, you detach from him and start guiding him back inside. “thanks con, you too.” you shout over the music.

after successfully delivering connie to mikasa (in a very expensive looking black swan costume) you start to navigate the crowd in an attempt to find something to drink.

jean had been developing a steady buzz in the hour or so that he’d been here. he wasn’t having fun. you’d rejected his offer of a ride and for some reason it had given him the urge to drink his blood volume in vodka cokes. he’d made pretty good headway so far, drowning out the compliments on his frankenstein costume with deep gulps from his glass. it felt weird, not having your complimentary figure beside him to admire all night.

somewhere between the fourth beer and third shot of rum he decided that he was mad at you. but it had dissipated pretty quickly—he was refilling his glass when he caught a glimpse of you.

connie was half-slung over your shoulder (gripping you awfully tight and saying something into your ear that has jeans teeth grinding together) but he could still clearly see the monikers of your costume. white streaks in your hair. blackened stitches along your jaw that mirror his own. jean feels the air get punched from his lungs when his eyes scan over your dress. the sheer, pale fabric practically glowing in the dim lighting. there’s a white corset that hugs your waist and follows the curve of your hips that jean can’t seem to tear his gaze from. the whole ensemble.. it’s hauntingly beautiful. you’re beautiful.

jean swallows down a forbidden feeling that claws at his ribcage, tears at the flesh of his throat in its frenzied attempt to escape.

he bolts down the hall to connie’s room, shouldering past vague acquaintances and slipping into his friends bathroom. the white knuckle grip that he has on the sink isn’t doing much to help ground him. his heart hammering in his chest and his head spinning unfortunately isn’t entirely the alcohols fault. scooping some cold water into his cupped hand, jean gulps it down and tries to cool the heat painting his cheeks and swirling in his gut.

bride of fucking frankenstein. is that why you’d asked what he was dressing up as? he groans, pressing the chilled tips of his fingers into his temple, mindful of the black face-paint stitches adorning his forehead. jean has spent almost 2 decades carefully steering you towards costumes that were safe—cute and perfect for the best of friends. jean has long since had his grand epiphany, long since resigned himself to keeping it all to himself, long since mourned the loss of what might have been. but he cannot risk a lifelong friendship with you on a gamble of ifs and maybes. so he straightens his jacket, plasters on his brightest smile and heads straight for you.

“well well well.” he drawls, coming up behind you as you’re mixing a drink. the sound of his voice has you sucking in a breath and turning to him with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

“couldn’t help yourself, huh? guess you’re just obsessed with me.”

you grin, glad that he seems like the jean you know and love. “please, this was a last minute ditch effort.” you shoot back, “i just couldn’t find anything else that looked okay!”

“ohh of course. forgive my wildly inaccurate assumption then.”

you chuckle, handing him a drink as you pour yourself another. “seriously though, dyou hate it?”

jean frowns over the rim of his cup, taking in your doe eyes and vulnerable expression that point to you being serious. “hate it? what would i hate it?”

“i don’t know.. you wanted to dress up alone this year so.. i thought you might be disappointed.” he stares at you blankly, cup hovering away from his lips. he’s got such pretty lips, you’ve always thought so. it would be.. weird to tell him that, right? though it’s probably weird how hard you’re staring at them right now and—oh god you’re staring.

“you wanted to dress up alone!” he says, confused.

“wh—i didn’t! i suggested it for you but.. i love our couples costumes.” you give him that shy smile that he adores and jean feels his insides turn to jelly. you have to know what you’re doing. you’ve baited him—hook, line and sinker and like the lovesick little guppy that he is he’s latched on and being stripped of oxygen.

“couples costumes?” he breaths.

“yeah i mean, we’re kind of like a couple.” you shrug, and jean almost faints. “we do everything together.” oh god, you need to shut the fuck up before you ruin everything. before he calls you out for overstepping and—

a whirlwind of colour that takes the form of sasha in a willy wonka costume (complete with crumpled wrappers spilling from her pockets) is suddenly ushering you both towards your group of friends before jean can respond and you can apologise. she pushes you down into the circle that’s forming, empty bottle of corona sitting menacingly in the centre.

jean groans, running a hand through his hair in a way that you can’t look at for too long or you might do something you’ll regret.

“what’re we? 16?” sasha just sticks her tongue out and slots down between macro and an on-the-verge-of-passing-out connie.

the games a hybrid—spin the bottle and 7 minutes in heaven, with people bending over the circle for a peck on the lips while the current 2 victims occupy the storage closet at the end of the hall. you find your eyes are focused on the fascinating items on the shopping list stuck to the fridge as jean locks lips with a pretty little blonde girl—hitch, you’re pretty sure. you don’t notice the glares that your best friend sporadically shoots in reiners direction when the bulky blonde kisses you for a little longer than necessary, earning whoops and cheers from your giddy friends. when the flick of erens wrist dictates that you and jean are next for the closet, the whole group groans.

“what?” floch says, clearly confused as to your apparent reputation.

“these are the worst.” mikasa deadpans, earning a playful shove from you.

“we are not!”

“what, they fuck super loud or something?” floch asks. jeans cheeks are reddening at the implication.

“hardly.” connie mumbles, suddenly following the conversation. “last time they were in there forever, found ‘em passed out after watchin’ a movie on his phone.”

you smile, pushing yourself up and extending a hand to jean. “i’m thinking insidious 2? maybe the conjuring?”

“stop. you know hocus pocus is more my speed.” he matches your smirk and laces your hands together, your friends’ booing accompanying you down the hall as you make your way to the closet.

you’re both settled on the floor, backs against the shelves and scrolling through jeans phone to find a movie. it’s dark, the only light coming from the small screen, but he can still see the outline of your figure in his peripherals, pressed up against him with your head on his shoulder, where it belongs.

“hey.” he finds himself blurting out. it’s the familiarity, the closeness that’s loosening his lips and making his iron resolve crumble.

“hey.” you smile up at him, and as he skims over your face, long lashes swept with mascara, pointed brows and lips sculpted with a dark crimson that almost looks black, jean has the startling urge to confess that he’s hopelessly, desperately in love with you.

“did you mean it? before..”

“what?”

“that we’re like a couple.” he presses.

“oh, i—” theres an apology on the tip of your tongue that somehow morphs under the intensity of his gaze, warm eyes piercing even in the low light. “i mean, we are, aren’t we? strangers always think we’re together. we’re just not, ah.. intimate like a couple.”

jeans ears are ringing. what might have been is beginning to look like what could be, what’s right at his fingertips.

“do you want to be?” it’s barely a whisper, his face so close to yours that when he swipes over his lips you can feel the heat from his tongue. your gaze flickers down, glued to his lips, and without a second thought you find yourself nodding.

“are you sure?” this time, he’s so close that you can feel the syllables against your lips.

“kiss me.”

and jean does not need to be told twice.

it’s a chaste thing, a sweet thing. just skin against skin. you both share a sigh against eachother and it’s filled with so much relief, so much longing that it’s only natural for his hands to make their way to your cheeks, coaxing your head back as his tongue starts to lick into your mouth.

wet smacking and heavy breaths are fogging the space of the closet as your hands curl around his wrists. jeans hands cup your jaw, a breathy chuckle bubbling up when he rests his forehead against yours. it’s so infectious that you find yourself giggling along with him, mirroring the shapes he traces into you on his pulsepoints.

“you have no idea.” jean finds himself mumbling between slow savours of your lips. “god, you drive me crazy.” and you do. he thinks he can feel his fucking brain chemistry altering with every brush of your tongue against his own.

it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore the desire pooling between your legs at the feeling of your best friend cradling your face like you’re made of glass and kissing you until you’re dizzy. your limbs feel phantom as you slowly push him against the shelves, your thighs finding purchase surrounding his long legs and hands slipping into his hair. his phone is still on somewhere, cool-blue light casting shadows over your figure. even straddling him, you’re only marginally taller, but jean loves it, your pretty face there for him to behold and your tits squished against the confines of your corset at the perfect level to latch onto. your cleavage being on display is more of an obvious byproduct of having breasts as apposed to a purposeful attempt at being alluring, but jean thanks whatever deity is looking over him and happily sucks a trail of bruises into the soft skin before him. he can feel your breathing increasing with every graze of his teeth, every violet mark etched into your skin. and when he delivers a particularly harsh nip, your thighs clenching around him and your grip on his nape tightening, jean thinks he has to be ascending.

the tent in his pants is considerable, poking into your core even through the whispy layers of your dress. large hands have settled on your waist when you start to rock in his lap, a sputtering groan spilling into your chest as his dick twitches in anticipation.

“fuck, jean—i need you.”

he’s frantic, bunching up your dress to expose your bare thighs and dampened panties. he perches you over his dick, stifling a moan from the pulsing heat of your cunt radiating against his bulge. the movements of your hips are aided by warm hands settled on them, grinding you against his cock as you gasp and moan at the friction. he almost whines in response, fingertips digging into your soft flesh. “don’t—oh shit—don’t have a condom.”

he can’t form a sentence, let alone a coherent thought. but like the angel that you are, you do it for him, tug his face back from where it’s buried in your neck, smiling fondly at his lidded eyes and parted lips. “i mean, i’m clean. and.. on birth control.” you whisper, as if he wasn’t nursing you day and night after your IUD appointment. tucking a strand of hair behind the reddened tip of his ear, you press your lips to the stubble that peppers his jaw. it’s rough, mildly grating in a way that brings heat to the surface of your skin and has you wondering how it would feel against your inner thighs. “and i trust you.” you smile.

a confession is dangerously close to bursting from his chest. jean might as well just plunge a fist through flesh and bone, part his ribcage and present his beating heart to you. he would do it, if you asked.

“fuck, are you sure?” he’s blindly scrambling for his phone. “i—i’m clean and everything but are you sure?” and suddenly the screen is being lit up in front of you with goddamn test results. you laugh, because it’s so sweet and so jean—giving you peace of mind despite your assurances, checking in on you again and again because he cares. you pull up your own recent results and present it to him, his eyes barely flicking over it before his gaze is relocked with yours. you chuck your phone to the side, palming his bulge in languid strokes with your free hand and shuffling down the length of his legs. “never been more sure of anything.”

jeans so hopped up on endorphins, on the taste of you and the arousal searing his skin that he hardly notices you flicking the clasp of his belt buckle. he’s shook from his stupor when he feels the cool air hit his dick, tip shiny with so much precum that its started to drip down to his balls. you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but the slight curve of his shaft, the bulbous head and mushroom tip, the length of it has your eyes wide and mouth pooling with saliva. you delight in the way his cock twitches and he shivers when you blow against his wet slit. and when you wrap a hand at his base, immediately pumping him with slickened strokes, he reels, arching into your touch and slamming a hand over his mouth to muffle his groans.

oh god, oh god you’re gonna ruin him, thumbing his slit and squeezing his cockhead until he’s leaking into your hand and planning your honeymoon. pink darts from between your teeth and you press the flat of your tongue against him, salty liquid bursting across your tastebuds that has you humming and taking the tip of his dick into the wet heat of your mouth. jeans nails are digging bloody crescents into the skin of his palm as he tries to hold back the sounds of his pleasure, but when you suckle on his slit and swirl your fucking tongue against the sensitive underside of his cock, jean feels his balls tighten and flames ignite under his skin.

“shit—shitshitshit wait!” and you’re pulling off of him with a lewd pop and a ditzy smile. there’s a string of saliva and pre that tethers him to your lips and jean doesn’t think you’ve ever looked so beautiful.

“god you’re so..” jeans panting, scouring his lust-dipped brain for a word that does you justice. his reaction has you preening, dragging down your panties and pecking his lips with a grin. “so’re you.”

your thighs return to their place around his hips, the bare heat of your sexes mingling when you press your clit into the underside of his shaft from its place against his stomach. jeans hands are guiding your mouth to reconnect with his, desire clawing at his chest. “let me taste you.” he breaths.

your pussy flutters at his request, baritone syllables making more slick ooze from your slit. “as much as i would love that,” you link your hands around his broad shoulders, pressing your weight into your knees to position his cock over your dripping entrance. you can see the beginnings of a protest shaping his pretty lips that you’re quick to silence, “i want you to cum.” and when his dick is enveloped with hot, wet softness, jean can’t do anything but gasp.

while the tightness of your cunt is threatening to milk him dry, he knows this can’t exactly be comfortable for you, the wetness of your shared arousal doing little to compensate for the lack of prep. gentle rolls of his hips accompany soft words and presses of his lips to the trail of bruises along your chest. “shh, you’re okay. it’s just me, just focus on me.”

slippery circles are pressed into your clit that have you relaxing under his touch and clenching around his cock simultaneously. “look how good you’re doing, baby.” he whipers, your hazy eyes blinking down to where you’re connected. you haven’t taken all of him, though he doesn’t seem to mind, his thrusts picking up and settling into a pace that has your toes curling. one of your hands slips from around his neck in a stubborn blur. he has to cum first. jean does more for you than he probably realises, doting on you like the angel that he is. they’ll be time for more later. but he has to have the first. your fingers trail the soft skin of his sac, nails grazing the cropped hair at his base that has him shuddering beneath you. you can almost feel his load churning under your touch when you roll the heavy weight of his balls between your fingertips.

electricity is sparking between you—it’s under your skin and in your gut and tethering the beating muscles in your chests.

“i—have wanted you—” his words are choked, impending orgasm a breath away, “—for so fucking long. i fucking—i love you. i’m so fucking in love with you.” his confession comes as he does, searing heat from his release coating your insides and splashing through the depths of your cunt. your foreheads are pressed together as you gasp and whisper against his lips, jeans hips fucking his load into you as he helps you chase your own high.

“i love you. always have.” it’s a little slurred, a little breathy. but when jean feels your pussy squeezing him in a vice, slick sounds of arousal bouncing off of the dark walls of the closet, he doesn’t think it could be any more fucking perfect.

-

reiner has his tongue shoved down bertls throat when you both emerge, blinking at the harsh light. the group doesn’t even give you a second look, at first. when reiner pulls back, leaving the brunet with pink cheeks and wide eyes, jean is the one to clear his throat and direct their attention to your disheveled figures.

“we’re, uh, we’re gonna head out.”

your hands are intertwined. which isn’t a foreign feeling at all, though his cum dripping down your thighs is certainly new.

“no fucking way.” connie seems to have sobered up exponentially, eyeing your mess of hickeys, wrinkled clothes and jeans wild hair.

“i’ll be damned.” erens smirking with his brows raised as you manoeuvre the little crowd and head for the door. throwing a quick wave over your shoulder, you flash a sheepish smile to your friends, stumbling out a goodbye as jean tugs you out the door.

“uh, happy halloween guys!”

as soon as the door slams jeans pulling you in for a kiss. his lips are quickly becoming your favourite thing so you are not complaining, looping your arms round his waist to pull him further into your orbit.

“so.” you muse, “what’re we now? like.. fuck buddies?” you joke.

jean thinks on it, dramatically squinting his eyes and humming in thought. “i’d prefer the term smash bros.”

the look of disgust that colours your face as you shove him away and head down the street has laughter bubbling in his chest and his hands pulling you flush against his chest.

“you’re so stupid.” you pout, barely masking your adorable smile. “can’t believe i slept with you. can’t believe im in love with you.” you’re teasing him, taking his lips for yourself and giggling against him. but if he’s being completely honest with himself, jean can’t fucking believe it either.

#: @luvkun4 @sheluvzeren @oxygenstarrved @wh0reforlevi

[cordeliasdarling]

Birthday (Larissa Weems x Reader)

Notes: This is a random piece about Larissa and reader both being students at nevermore. Reader is popular, Larissa not so. (I know I’m so sorry it’s a bit sad.) I saw a prompt ages ago that inspired this so creds to them idk who.

Let me know if you want a part two! And pls don’t let this flop haha :0

****

To say I was popular.. well yes, you'd be right. I'd worked hard for it, looking perfect, getting high grades. Of course my natural personality was a winner amongst my peers at Nevermore academy. It made me feel good, more than just for my ego. I liked to know that people liked me for me. I wasn't fake, I said things as they were, and luckily it wasn't rejected.

"Hello, earth to (Y/N)!" I jolted out of my personal monologue by my best friend, Cleo. When we'd met for the first time, we clicked instantly. She knew me better than anyone else, and I loved it. And I knew her the same way.

"Sorry, just daydreaming." I chuckled quietly and glanced around at the surroundings. We were sat on the freshly cut green grass in the courtyard. It was a warm day with a refreshing breeze. Perfect for lounging around. Just beyond me and Cleo were the rest of my friend group, who were all talking, laughing. I enjoyed the company.

Then something caught my eye, actually someone.

She had silvery blonde hair, and was much taller than any girl in the school, and not just because we were the oldest in the school (we were all in our last year). The school uniform brought out her deep crystal eyes, in a way that made me smile automatically. Larissa Weems was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. Cleo nudged me, a grin on her face.

"I don't know why you don't just ask her out. What's the worst that can happen?"

I rolled my eyes, a sigh escaping my lips. My eyes were still on Larissa, watching as she walked along the open corridor on the side of the grass. Her eyes were on the ground, probably watching where she was going because due to her height, she often bumped into the shorter students, forgetting her stride was bigger than others.

"She most likely will be straight. Then turn me down, laugh in my face, and leave me all alone forever." Groaning, I leaned back, laying down properly on the grass.

"You should invite her to your birthday party." Cleo suggested, taking a sip of her water bottle, which she'd slid in a few ice cubes to keep her cool in the summer heat.

"She doesn't go to parties." Well, that's just what I'd gathered from all the parties I'd been to, she'd never been there, much to my disappointment. Having drinks in our systems may have given me more courage to talk to her.

Before Cleo could reply, one of my friends approached us, causing my eyes to leave Larissa just as she disappeared through a door.

"Hi, Mary." A welcoming smile on my face, as usual. She smiled back, sitting closer, in front of Cleo.

"I was wondering if you could help me with the Math homework? It's totally okay if not." People often asked me for such favours, as it was no secret that I got top grades, and I was always happy to help.

"Yes, of course!"

**

"Alright everyone, today we're moving to the greenhouse for the lesson." Mrs Faye called out to everyone before they could sit down. A faint groan was heard, because we all knew how hot it would be in there. But we didn't protest, mainly because we all loved Mrs Faye, and she always made our lessons fun.

There were desks already set up in front of tables with a plant pot on all of them. All of the students grouped together in twos, though I hung back, deciding which table I would go to with Cleo. But she nudged me, secretly gesturing to Larissa who hadn't partnered up yet. My eyes widened, knowing what she was suggesting.

"No!" I whispered, but Cleo had walked off with someone else, sending a wink my way. Internally I groaned, knowing I'd have to woman-up. So I approached Larissa, a faint smile on my lips, almost grinning as her eyes met with mine. I was lost for a moment, looking up at the girl I had the biggest crush on. And she had no idea, because I was secretly an awkward lesbian.

"Hey, wanna partner up?" I asked, cursing to myself because my tone didn't sound confident enough. She nodded, her expression softening. I felt a pang of sadness for her, because she was always the last one to be picked. It shouldn't be that way.

We walked to the last available bench and sat down, facing the front.

Mrs Faye talked us through the project, and soon we were left to our own devices, having to dissect a flower to see the roots and whatnot.  At the same time, we grabbed the scalpel to start. A blush appeared on my cheeks, whereas Larissa just smiled that beautiful smile.

"Sorry." Mumbling, letting her take it and begin the work. My eyes watched her movements, wondering what her larger hands would feel like linked with mine. I was short, well not short in the grand scheme of things, but just smaller than the average nineteen year old. Did that make me and Larissa Weems less compatible? I hoped not.

The lesson went by in a blur, mostly me letting Larissa do all the work, something that was unlike me, but I was just very busy. By busy, I meant building up the courage to ask Larissa to my birthday party. It couldn't be that hard, just a few simple words. But the feeling of rejection was something I never wanted to feel. I'd always had an easy time when it came to dating. All boys though, much to my distaste, but that was the consequence of not coming out.

"Larissa?" My tone was even, not holding confidence or nervousness. She tilted her head to the side, making eye contact with me. I nearly ran out of oxygen, looking into those deep ocean blue eyes.

"Yes?" Her voice was smooth, velvety even.

"Would you.. would you like to come to my birthday party tomorrow?" Urgh, I hated the way my pathetic voice sounded so hopeful. I hoped she didn't detect it.

She didn't say anything for a full minute, seemingly lost in thought. Eventually she shook her head slowly. "Sorry, I'm busy tomorrow."

My heart sunk, hanging my head in despair. So this is what rejection felt like, a crushing feeling in my gut.

"Oh, that's totally okay." I forced a smile, staring at the now dissected plant as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. Damn this. Of course the prettiest girl in school wouldn't want to come to my party. Literally almost everyone in my year would be there, except for her.

Mrs Faye then called out to the class, dismissing us all as the hour was up. Time flew fast, it seemed.

Larissa left the class before me, grabbing her bag and exiting quickly. I tried not to stare, but I didn't really relax until she'd gone completely. Not in a negative way, but because I was so awkward and down.

"So how did it go?" Cleo grinned, her arm slung around my shoulders as we left the greenhouse. I didn't reply, just groaning in a way that I hoped verbalised the rejected feeling.

"Ah. Playing hard to get. Well, there are plenty more fish in the sea." She slapped my back in what seemed to be a comforting way, but it just added to the pain. Yes, I know I was just a nineteen year old student with a silly little crush, but Larissa seemed like so much more.

As we walked along the corridor, I spotted the very girl I was mooning over, talking to a small group of people. They all seemed to shake their head in response to something she said. Larissa seemed to smile, though it looked superficial, like something had upset her but she was trying to cover it up. They all dispersed, leaving me in a state of curiousness. I was tempted to go over to the people who were naturally my friends, to ask what that was all about, but we needed to get to our lesson.

And by the end of the day, it had slipped my mind.

**

The next day rolled around, and I was walking out of the changing rooms, having just had track. I was alone, which was unusual, because I had decided to do a couple more laps, insisting my friends should go. They all wanted to get ready for my party anyway.

I slipped on my uniform, not bothering to tuck my shirt into my skirt. Bag on my shoulder, I moved towards the door, but I stopped in my tracks when I heard a muffled sound coming from the toilets. Frowning, I inspected further, walking into joining restroom. The sound happened again, and this time I figured out it was stifled crying. The sound tugged on my heartstrings, because the pain was clear in the tone.

"Hello?" I knocked on the cubicle door softly, and the crying abruptly stopped. The was a long silence before the door opened slowly. It revealed none other than Larissa Weems. My heart sunk further, who hurt my precious girl?

"Oh.. it's you." She mumbled, walking to the tissue dispenser, grabbing a few sheets to dab at her smudged mascara. "I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine." I followed her, about to place a hand on her arm, but stopped myself, in case she didn't like physical contact. She stared into the mirror, at herself, until her gaze shifted to my reflection.

"Don't you have friends to run off with?" She muttered, eyes now lowering to look at her hands.

"They're not important right now. Can you tell me what's wrong?" I tried my best to make my words as gentle as possible, and it seemed to work because fresh tears filled her eyes as she turned around to face me.

"We have the same birthday but everyone goes to your party, not mine." Her voice cracked, looking away in some type of shame.

It all clicked, the reason why she was 'busy', the reason those people were shaking their heads, as they weren't going to her celebration, they were going to mine. I didn't even know her birthday was on the same day as mine.

"Oh, Larissa.." I whispered, my arms opening to embrace her. She didn't move away, instead stiffening up. "I'm sorry." Though those two words didn't do much comfort.

"It's fine." She sounded cold, and suddenly pushed me away gently. Tears were in my eyes now, just like hers, except she had fiercely wiped them away.

"Have fun." She then left, her footsteps quick against the lino flooring, leaving me speechless. I wiped away one tear. I had caused her pain, and that I would never forgive myself for.

I had to make this right, I had to make her feel better, in whatever way possible.

So I furrowed my eyebrows to come up with some sort of plan.

****

[celabi]

this a a fact.

scummy scara has no fashion taste other than hoodies and what ever clean pants he can find on his floor. Read: a hoodie he hasn’t washed in six months and a pair of pants that don’t he hasn’t busted a nut in.

he just doesn’t wash clothes. so he just uses foul axe body spray to hide his scummy scent.

like after you start to show interest he washes his clothes now and stopped using axe after he heard you talking shit ab it. now he uses one that by the grace of the gods you love.

you have to dress that motherfucker he couldn’t put together a good outfit if eating you out for as long as he wanted was on the line.

you pick out what he wears bc he asked you to bc “he wants to look nicer” truthfully he just wanted to see what you found attractive. and to get you in his room, in his closet where you might find that little black box with your dirty panties in it.

write a drabble maybe 👉👈

also when i talk ab scummy scara i mean snake bite having wolf cut rocking looks clean on the outside but does the filthiest shit on the inside. fucking cooking for you with his cum. cumming on your toothbrush.

but thats for a different time. any way this is the style i picture him in. he only wears platforms bc he has this need for height.

Jsnsnsnsn omg pls just scara sitting on the foot of his bed while you rummage through his closet, trying to pick out an outfit for him to wear for your date, knowing that if you didn’t, he would show up to the fancy restaurant in a baggy hoodie, sweats, and a pair of flip flops. His knee bounces faster as you get deeper into the closet. There’s clothes thrown messily onto his bedroom floor, all of his shoes (there’s two pairs) are lost somewhere in between the mix as well, and you keep finding some ‘random junk’ just carelessly shoved behind everything, like loose fake nails who you’re sure aren’t his because he shows up to class with badly painted, short black nails, there’s hair ties that have no purpose to him because his hair is too short, and occasionally you’d pull out some loose Pokémon cards.

“Scara… you’re not really giving me anything to work with here.” You mumble, lifting up a band t shirt that has holes ripped on all sides. He slightly leans to the side and views over your shoulder, he gulps. “Uh, yeah sorry, I don’t do much clothes shopping…” ‘she’s getting closer.’ He can feel his heart racing in his chest as you kneel forward and reach for anything else that might be hiding at the back, and he gulps when you quietly murmur a small ‘what’s this?’ as your hand grabs onto something. Oh this is it, you’re gonna see them, he thought he had hid them well, but you’re not even searching for them and you’ve managed to find them already. Oh god, will you scream at him for stealing them? You’re gonna leave him aren’t you. His eyes start to sting, and his hand reaches down to scratch at his leg in fear. This is it, it’s all over, everything he worked so hard for is abo—

“Oh, this shirt looks okay. Here, show me what it looks like on.” You stand up, pat the dust off your knees and hand him a surprisingly clean shirt that you had pulled out from the closet. He blinks, and slowly reaches out to grab it from you. So you didn’t see—? He so thought that his life was over, but maybe you had missed the small box hidden away in the corner, and he’s glad you did. “Yeah o-okay.” His cheeks redden when you watch him pull off the shirt he was already wearing and replace it with the one you gave him, before he tugs at hem and nervously shuffles his feet. “Uh.. so, do you think I look… good?”

“Yeah, you look cute. Come on, let’s go.” You reach for his hand and pull him along, which he makes no complaints about, a wonky smile on his lips while his eyes follow your move, before switching off his bedroom light and walking to the door. Maybe he was so distracted by your complaint that he failed to notice the very box he was dreading you to find opened, with a little pair off panties peeking out from inside. 😱 spoiler u found them whatttt

scara with band tee shirts and chains mwah I love

Anyways he’s so cute I’ll put him in some pink panties and eat him out thanks 🥺

[siilvan]

aqua regia – II

part one | part three

characters: nikolai

summary: as the tension between you and nikolai continues to rise, you’re sent on another assignment and, for the first time, exposed to the pilot’s darker corner of the world.

genre: general, mild angst, hurt/comfort, fem!reader (bravo 0-5)

warnings: semi-proofread, suggestive moments, brief dream smut, cursing, canon-typical violence, nik’s a flirt, reader’s also a flirt, protective!nik, he’s dreamy when he kills people, nik gets hurt but reader fixes him up, i don’t speak russian pls be gentle

word count: 5.6k

note: one day i’ll write a slow burn… but today is not that day (tomorrow might be tho <3)

"fuck– nikolai–"

his rough, calloused hand let go of your hip to press down between your shoulder blades, forcing your back to arch as he pushed your chest further into the mattress. you had the sheets fisted in one hand and the other interlocked with his, moans freely spilling from your lips.

"you can take it, милая." he growls between labored breaths, leaning forward to leave wet, sloppy kisses against the back of your throat as his hand reached for your hip again. "моя сладкая… you’re doing so good for me…"

"fuck– ‘s too much, nik…" you whine as the new position made him go even deeper, practically bullying you on his cock.

"too much? you’re sucking me in, принцесса," he chuckles low next to your ear, pressing yet another kiss to your feverish skin. the cold metal of his necklace - that stupid gold chain he always wore - dangled next to your head, swaying back and forth with each snap of his hips.

you gripped his hand tightly, the only thing keeping you on the planet as nikolai quite literally fucked you stupid. each hard thrust only made it more difficult for you to think, to speak, to do anything but try desperately to keep up with him. he squeezed your hand in return, mumbling soft praise and leaving sweet kisses against your shoulder as you finally lost yourself in your ecstasy.

you sat up straight as your alarm blared, startling you out of your pleasant dream. clicking it off and flopping back down, you let out a frustrated sigh.

"fucking hate him…" you grumble to yourself. sitting up again, you grab one of your pillows and chuck it at the door with a groan.

it had been three weeks since the chemical factory. three weeks since you and nikolai had camped out together. three weeks since you two almost kissed. and, during those three weeks, you had seen the man only once. apparently he was "busy with work," as captain price put it when you asked.

is it possible to go insane from something like this? three weeks ago, you would have answered that question with a definitive "no."

today, you would say "yes" to it.

there was a ginger knock against your door. "uh, lieutenant? you doin’ alright in there?" gaz’s nervous voice, slightly muffled on the other side, distracted you from your thoughts.

"i’m fine, gaz, just dropped something," you reply while dragging yourself out of bed.

"dropped something against the door?"

"yes, sergeant. against the door."

you trudged over to the door and nudged the pillow out of the way with your foot. upon opening it, you were greeted by the sight of a very befuddled gaz.

"well, there’s coffee in the kitchen." he says with a smile. "please try not to drop that, too." he adds, speed-walking in the other direction after you sent him a very pointed glare.

when you stepped into the kitchen, you immediately beeline for the pot of coffee that soap was standing next to. the scotsman looked at you with an amused grin as you hastily prepared a cup for yourself.

"bad night, l.t.?"

"you have no idea."

as you eagerly chugged your drink, paying no mind to the burning sensation as it went down your throat, ghost approached and stopped in the doorway. "0-5, price wants you to stop by his office."

"someone’s in trouble," soap sang from next to you, prompting you to roll your eyes and set your cup on the counter. "did he say what for?" you ask, brushing past the other lieutenant on your way out.

"something related to an assignment, i think. best for you to ask him yourself."

with a nod and a quick "thank you," you headed for price’s office. it wasn’t terribly far, but far enough that your head spun with different ideas of what he could want. to your knowledge, you hadn’t done anything wrong, nor had you done anything worth a personal commendation. was this about the chemical factory? training new recruits? a new mission you’d be leading?

as you approached the office and knocked on the open door, you had your question answered for you.

price stood behind his desk, cigar burning away between his thumb and forefinger. standing on the other side, chatting with him about something, was the very man that had been plaguing your thoughts for the past twenty one days.

"lieutenant, good to see you." price took another puff of his cigar before setting on the edge of the ash tray. nikolai looked over his shoulder, smiling as you stepped further into the room. "i’ve got a new job for you. one that laswell just sent in."

you stood in front of the desk, to nikolai’s right, as price slid the manila folder on its surface towards you. "something for me alone?" you ask while giving the contents of the folder a quick scan, noting how many of the details were blacked out.

"officially, you’ll be working alone."

"and, unofficially?"

price huffed out a laugh and nodded towards the other man. "unofficially, nik will be there to watch your back and provide some… personal support."

the details that weren’t redacted gave you an idea of why he was your backup: the local contact you’d be linking up with to gather intel was a former arms dealer from russia, now running a "clean" business in finland. he was probably familiar with the man.

"when do we head out?" you closed the folder and set it back down, giving price a curious look.

"as soon as you can. you’ve got a long flight."

within a half-hour, you had collected your gear and made your way to the base’s runway. nikolai was standing by the helicopter as you approached, skimming over the flight plan. wordlessly, you passed by him and dropped your bag in the back of the helicopter, glimpsing at him from the corner of your eye. he looked up from the papers briefly, perfectly in time to meet your gaze.

"ready to head out, принцесса?" he asks, turning around and tucking the clipboard somewhere in the cockpit. the nickname brought you back to the dream you had last night - a memory that immediately made blood rush to your face.

quickly shaking the feeling off, you nodded your head. "yeah, let’s get going."

as you went to board in the back, nikolai stopped you. "ah, you should ride in the front." he motioned towards the co-pilot’s seat. "it’s just the two of us, there’s no point in sitting in the back."

you looked at the seat, then back at him. "you sure? i don’t want to mess anything up."

"you won’t," he chuckles and slides the back door shut. "just don’t touch anything unless i tell you to, and we’ll be fine."

with another nod, you circle around the chopper and settle in the front seat. your respect for the pilot raised instantly upon seeing the array of buttons, switches, and gauges laid out; you couldn’t even begin to guess what half of them were used for.

and yet, nikolai seemed to know exactly what to do as he sat in the pilot’s seat, flicking several switches and bringing every system to life. it wasn’t long before you were in the sky, with the low rumble of the vehicle’s engine helping relax you as your head fell back against the headrest.

"you’re usually more talkative than this, lieutenant." nikolai spoke up, sending a cursory glance in your direction. you opened your eyes, which had fallen shut soon after takeoff, and returned the look.

"not feeling very talkative today," you reply.

he turns towards you with a low sigh. "are you upset with me?"

the question was genuine, and you met his somber gaze. you gnawed on the inside of your cheek as you debated on how to answer. you understood being busy, most of the people you came across in this line of work were constantly moving without a break, yourself included. despite not knowing hardly anything about the man’s past or personal life, you knew that nikolai had a number of responsibilities that kept him almost too busy.

you felt bad - guilty, even - over it all; that you were upset with him for doing his job, that you couldn’t help alleviate any of his stress, your confusion over your feelings for him, that you’ve missed him far more than you should.

"i’m not upset with you," you start, shifting your gaze to the control panel in front of you. "well, i am, but not in the way you think. these past few weeks… i’ve missed you, nik. more than i know i should, given our situation." you concede with a heavy sigh.

"what is 'our situation?'"

"risking death every time we step out the door."

nikolai huffed, just barely audible over the sound of the whirring blades overhead. "i have no intention to die, милая."

"i know you don’t intend to, but it could happen," you look at him again, suddenly feeling a fresh wave of anxiety rush through your veins. "ever since you left, i’ve been worrying day and night, staying awake in the hopes you’d at least call and tell me you’re okay."

at some point, your hands balled into fists in your lap. nikolai had since looked back at the windshield, though you could tell he was still listening.

"i just–" you sigh, again, attempting to keep your composure. you were a soldier, a member of an elite task force for heaven’s sake, you should be able to do at least that. "we left off in a… confusing, place. i wanted to talk about it, but then you were gone without so much as a 'goodbye.'"

"and, i understand you were busy," you continue, unclenching your fists and nervously rubbing your palms against the front of your thighs. "you’ve got your own life and business to worry about, but a single call would’ve gone a long way. i don’t even know if that night meant anything to you."

you waited for a response - a confirmation, rejection, anything. you just needed to know how he felt, to know whether you should walk away with your tail between your legs and your pride intact, or if there was something there worth pursuing.

a few minutes of painful silence passed between you two. finally, as you were opening your mouth to tell him to forget about it, nikolai spoke.

"i wanted to call. several times." he pauses, inhaling and exhaling slowly. "i left in such a rush because i was needed for something important, something urgent. i didn’t expect to be kept away for so long, or else i would have spoken to you."

"i am a very busy man, yes, but never too busy for you." he confesses, chuckling to himself. "as for what that night meant… well, i think that entirely depends on what you want, милая. you already know that you are special to me. what we choose to do about it is up to you."

you crack a smile as your tense muscles start to relax. all it took was that response to make you realize just how ridiculous the whole situation was. embarrassment flooded your mind and heat rose to your cheeks, forcing you to raise your hands in an attempt to cover them.

"i’m sorry, i should have–"

"don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong by worrying. it is quite nice to be worried over, actually."

nikolai held the yoke in one hand and reached over with the other, taking your wrist in a gentle grip. he pulls it towards himself and interlocks your fingers together before lifting your hand up to press a firm kiss to the back of it.

"after this job, we’ll talk everything over." you giggle as the single kiss turned into multiple on the back of your hand and fingers. "i think we’re on the same page, but i’d like to hear you say it."

he hums against your skin before releasing your hand and focusing on the sky again. "anything to please you, принцесса."

the sun was beginning to set over the horizon as the chopper landed, decorating the sky in an assortment of warm hues. dirt and small stones were crushed underneath your boots as you stepped out of the cockpit, taking note of the surrounding area.

you had landed in a field, marked only with a small, abandoned shack set in the middle. most sides of the clearing were surrounded by dense forest as far as the eye could see, though one side had a dirt path that led past it. through the trees, you could make out a road and city lights in the distance.

"we’ll travel the rest of the distance by car," nikolai states, motioning towards a black truck at the close end of the path. "less suspicion, that way."

"who would be suspicious of us, exactly?" you question as you follow him to the vehicle, setting your bag in the back of it. he circles around to the driver’s side and fishes a set of keys out of his pocket, and you get settled in the passenger’s seat once it’s unlocked.

"our contact," he turns the keys in the ignition and starts down the path, towards the road. "he goes by 'lev,' and is a very paranoid man."

you glanced at the mirrors as you turned onto the road, keeping an eye out for any cars potentially following. "if he’s so paranoid, then how did laswell convince him to help us?"

"she didn’t. i did."

you look away from the mirrors to stare at nikolai in confusion. you expected him to be familiar with the contact, but this was news to you. he merely regards you with an easy smile.

"what do you think i spent those weeks doing, милая? i was gathering resources, as always."

"i should’ve known," you shake your head in disbelief, focusing your eyes on the road. the sun had fully sunken over the horizon by this point, blanketing the sky in darkness. "another long drive?"

"shouldn’t be too long, provided we don’t run into any trouble on the way."

ever true to his word, the drive to the meeting location wasn’t long - only about an hour, compared to the day’s trip you’d had already. a few twists and turns down the back roads of the city brought you to an inconspicuous warehouse. had you not known better, you would have assumed the building was abandoned, the only sign of life being the pair of guards standing near the entrance.

"until we reach lev, it would be best to let me do the talking," nikolai says, motioning for you to follow him to the entrance. you silently nod your head and stick close to his side as the two guards regard you with stern glares, hands reaching for the side holsters slightly concealed under their jackets.

nikolai approaches them with a calm smile and greets the pair in russian before striking up a conversation that you could only understand pieces of. you manage to catch the words "meeting," "boss," and "friend" amongst the rest.

one of them men lifts his hand to his earpiece and speaks into it. after a moment’s wait, he nods to the other guard, who then says something to nikolai. you just barely register the word "inside" before the doors are opened for you to walk through. again, you stay close to your companion’s side as you enter, being greeted instantly by a collection of several more armed personnel.

one of the guards nods towards an elevator. you send nikolai a wary glance that he brushes off with a relaxed smile as you two follow what you’re told. however, once the elevator doors slide shut, leaving the two of you alone again, he turns to you.

"listen to me very closely," he says in a low voice, sending an involuntary shiver up your spine. "there is an apartment building a few blocks away. it is one of the only residential buildings in this part of the city, so it’s very hard to miss. if anything happens during this meeting, i want you to go there, with or without me, and go to the apartment on the top floor."

you nervously shift your weight from one foot to the other. "are you worried that something is going to go wrong?" you ask, blinking up at him.

"i don’t think that anything will go wrong," he reassures you. "but, i believe that it’s always best to be prepared for the worst, lieutenant."

hard to argue with that logic.

a moment later, the elevator stops and the doors slide open again. more guards dot the short hallway leading to a set of double doors. the pair of guards standing on either side reach for the handles and pull them open when you arrive, revealing a spacious and well-kept office. a far cry from the building’s exterior, you think to yourself.

in the dead center of the room was a large, circular meeting table. to the right was another single door that you gathered led outside. there was a small seating area immediately to your left, and against the far wall sat a simple wooden desk.

the man that sat behind said desk broke into a wide grin upon your entry - lev, you assumed.

he stands from his swivel chair and greets nikolai with an eager handshake. "ah, nikolai, i was starting to wonder when you would show up!" he says, accent thick and heavy, before turning his attention to you. "and, who is this ангел that you’ve brought?"

you instinctively shift a bit closer to nikolai before he answers. "a friend, the one with the task force. she’s here for the information you have." he lifts his hand and presses his palm against the other man’s chest, preventing him from getting any closer to you.

"a friend, i see." lev shoots a knowing glance in his direction. "if she can be trusted, then i have all the information that you need."

he walks to the far end of the meeting table, rapping his knuckles against the surface of it twice, signaling for you to sit down. you oblige and take a seat in one of the chairs, with nikolai sitting in between you and lev. he presents a folder, packed to the point of nearly bursting, and slides it towards you.

"i have done much work with the organizations that you are seeking to dismantle."

you start looking over the contents of the folder. names, locations, battle plans, affiliates - HQ would have a field day with all of it. "what caused you to break up the relationship, then?" you ask while sifting through the papers.

"the business stopped being profitable."

"you seem to have forgotten that you were caught with dirty hands, as well." nikolai adds, his gaze firmly trained on the other russian. you hardly noticed it, too focused on the intel laid out before you.

lev huffs out an amused laugh and nods his head affirmatively. "yes, and you were the one that saved me from a life sentence. i have not forgotten the eternal debt i owe you, my friend." he replies, moving to stand behind his desk once more.

"my sincerest apologies if you were expecting more hospitable treatment, friends, but i have much work to do," he says. you and nikolai are quick to stand up as you tuck the folder under your arm. "i look forward to helping each other again in the future."

you give him a polite smile and move to thank him, before you hear a door lock click behind you. in your peripheral vision, you see a small group - four, maybe five - guards reach for their guns.

nikolai speaks before you can. "what is the meaning of this, lev?" his voice lowers to a near-growl as he takes a step towards the desk.

"it’s nothing personal, old friend. this is merely a favor that my other affiliates asked of me."

"i thought you quit working with them," you tear your attention from the guards and watch as he opens a drawer, pulling a handgun from it. he shrugs, toying with the weapon for a moment.

"i did, but now they are offering more money, and i would be lying if i said that i wasn’t a greedy man."

you barely noticed the object comfortably nestled in the palm of nikolai’s hand out of the corner of your eye - a small canister, easily missed. you focus on it and piece together what it is.

a smoke grenade. clever.

"you are a dead man." is the only warning you get before he tosses the grenade down and fills the room with a thick fog. somewhere behind you, the group of guards open fire, missing you entirely as you vault over the table.

amidst the chaos, you hear nikolai’s voice again. "get out" is all you can understand, but the message is clear. you sprint for the exterior door and bust through it, inhaling deeply as fresh air fills your lungs. shouts come from behind you, reminding you of the contingency plan - fucking run.

you break into a sprint down the stairs to your left, skipping every other step as you descend. within seconds, you were at the front of the building again. as the pair of guards stationed at the entrance are distracted with their earpieces, no doubt receiving orders to shoot you on sight, you continue your mad dash past them and towards the street.

a few bullets land near your feet as you keep running, adrenaline kicking your legs into high gear. you were never the fastest on the team - that title securely belonged to gaz - but, you could certainly outrun most hostiles when it mattered.

you knew you were being chased after turning several corners and still hearing the shouts of your attackers. luckily for you, the aforementioned apartment building was within your sights. much like the warehouse, it looked almost abandoned, and you prayed that you were right this time. the last thing you needed right now was civilian casualties.

the smoke in the room obscured his movements as nikolai cleared the place out, starting with the gaggle of men behind him at the door. two knives and three bullets was all it took for them to lay dead in a pile.

the only one that remained was the bastard cowering behind the desk.

he strides across the room as the smoke begins to clear, bringing him face-to-face with his target. the moment doesn’t last long, as he shoves the gun in the man’s hand out of the way and flings it elsewhere. he grabs the back of lev’s head and slams it against the edge of his desk once, twice, thrice, before lifting it up as he choked for air.

"if your men hurt a single hair on her head," nikolai says, voice gravelly and thick with subdued anger as he leans in close. blood dripped from the man’s face onto the wooden surface below. "not even the deepest pit of hell will be a safe place for you."

nikolai grasps the back of his shirt and throws him to the ground. as he walks towards the same door you ran out of, he stops with a hand on the doorframe.

"i almost forgot," he chuckles and watches the man desperately crawl towards his gun. "consider your debt to me paid in full, ублюдок."

he lifts his gun and shoots him twice before turning around and rushing down the stairs. he couldn’t tell how many men had pursued you, and he didn’t care to wait around for you to tell him yourself. as he slows down briefly to reload his gun, a bullet pierces his left bicep and sends him stumbling forward.

a single man had remained, waiting for him outside. nikolai was quick to finish him off before heading for the apartment building.

hopping over the metal fence, you reach a courtyard that was covered in overgrowth and in desperate need of some maintenance. you duck into a shadowy corner and pull a combat knife out from your jacket.

as the first guard entered the courtyard, pointing his gun in every direction as he searched for you, you lunged at him from behind and dug the knife into his throat. like clockwork.

you turned to face the other guards as they arrived and let go of the knife to grab your gun, concealed but well within reach. meanwhile, your free arm was wrapped around the first guard’s shoulders, using him as a shield against the others’ weapons. after dropping three of them, you release the body and dive for cover again.

ten.

you peek out from your hiding spot and drop another guard as he reaches for a stun grenade. two more stand to his left. you shoot one as he looks away to check the grenade, and the other when his gun runs out of ammo.

seven.

two attempt to flank, moving towards your right side. the first one trips over a branch sticking out from the garden bed and doesn’t get back up. the second one avoids the branch, but doesn’t avoid his friend’s body. you take care of him shortly after.

five.

as you stop to reload, internally patting yourself on the back for remembering your silencer, another pair pushes forward. you grab a stun grenade off your belt and toss it forward, immediately dropping the two after it goes off at their feet.

three.

you aim your gun at the last trio, narrowly avoiding a bullet as it whizzes past your head. before you get the chance to fire at any of them, two fall dead, one right after the other. the last remaining guard hesitates in the confusion, and you take the chance to eliminate him, as well.

cautiously, you move from your cover and look in the direction of the other bullets. your jaw drops as you see nikolai holster his gun and jog towards you, blood dripping from a wound below his shoulder.

"shit, nik– let me help–" you rush towards him and grab his uninjured arm, offering yourself as a support while leading him to the building’s closest entry. you manage to open the door with one hand and guide the both of you inside.

"are you okay, милая?" he asks, letting out a pained grunt as you practically drag his stumbling body up the flights of stairs. the blood loss was starting to affect him, you could tell. "did any of them hurt you?"

"i’m fine, my love. you’re the one losing blood." you tighten your hold as you keep ascending. "this apartment better have a first aid kit, or i’ll have to rip this jacket apart just to bandage you up."

truthfully, he stopped listening after "my love."

after some effort, you reach the top floor. you find the key taped to the bottom of a nearby plant - a shitty hiding spot, you tell nikolai - and unlock the door to the apartment. you manage to help him inside and to a couch in the small living area.

"stay here, i’ll go find something to patch you up with." you say before disappearing down the short hallway. miraculously, the first room you check happens to be the bathroom, which has a first aid kit tucked away below the sink. you grab it and rush back to the living room, where nikolai was struggling to take his jacket off.

with a soft-spoken "let me help," you pull his jacket off and lay it across the arm of the couch, getting his shirt off after and putting it aside.

you try to ignore the sight, you really do. however, seeing his upper half entirely bare for the first time was a distraction that you considered impossible to ignore. he was fit, more muscular than most of the "prime" rookies that you’d seen in recent times. broad-shouldered and strong, with a plethora of scars covering different parts of his arms and torso.

you made a mental note to ask about every single one when you had the time.

"something catch your eye, принцесса?" nikolai asks with an amused laugh. he immediately reaches for his injury after with a soft wince. "perhaps you could continue your staring after this is taken care of."

while attempting to ignore the flush in your cheeks, you open the first aid kit and sit on the couch next to him. you try to fix up the wound as best as you can with what little supplies you have.

"i shouldn’t have run," you confess after a moment passes. "i know you wanted me to, but i shouldn’t have. i left you alone back there."

"i was perfectly fine on my own, my worry was for your safety."

"still, you were hurt because i wasn’t there to help." you manage to close the wound and reach for the rolls of gauze and bandages. "we’re a team, defending each other is part of the job. next time something like this happens, i’m not leaving you alone in a room of hostiles."

"i pray nothing like this happens to us again," he chuckles. "we may be part of the same team, but it is my personal job to keep you safe."

you finish wrapping the bandages around his bicep and set the rest aside as you look up at him. "why?"

"do you really not know why?" he turns to you. a fond smile plays on his lips as you register what he means. you clear your throat and glance towards his arm. "is there anything else i can do to help with that?"

nikolai leans against the back cushion and hums to himself as he thinks. you can tell exactly when he gets an idea, as he sends a mischievous look in your direction.

"a kiss would be nice."

you blink at him. "a kiss?" you ask. he nods his head and lifts his uninjured arm up to pat the top of his thigh, an invitation.

"yes, i think a kiss would make me feel much better. don’t you agree?"

heat creeps up your neck as you carefully crawl over and toss your leg over his own, straddling his lap. his hands immediately drag up the outer sides of your thighs and settle on your hips. he pulls you closer until you’re chest-to-chest, and your hands settle on his shoulders, staying mindful of his injury.

your tongue wets your lips in anticipation. nikolai’s eyes closely follow the movement as he lets a soft sigh slip out, his hips shifting under you.

you lean in and press your lips against his, gentle but firm. he reciprocates without any hesitation, his right hand lifting to cup your face. after a few seconds, you feel his tongue slowly drag along the seam of your lips, encouraging you to part them. you oblige and he deepens the kiss with an appreciative hum.

the two of you finally part moments later, breathing deeply. you tilt your head forward to press your forehead against his as your hand moved from his injured shoulder to the back of his neck.

"better?" you murmur against his lips.

you feel him smile. "much better, but i think i may need more."

with a soft laugh, you close the small distance again. nikolai is slow and steady as he shifts on the couch, laying you on your back as he leans over you. he holds himself up on one hand and uses the other to rub gentle circles on your hip with his thumb.

your arms circle around his neck as you try to pull his body impossibly closer, feeling a fresh wave of heat course through your veins as he groans softly against your lips and slowly grinds his hips into yours.

he suddenly shifts and pulls away, cursing under his breath as he sits back on his knees. his hand leaves your hip to grip just under the bandage on his arm.

"are you okay?" you ask, sitting up on your elbows. you worried that the wound reopened, though he nodded to indicate that he was fine.

"i just put too much weight on it," he sighs and stares down at you. "we can continue."

as he leans forward to press his lips to yours again, you stop him with a hand against his bare chest. "i would love nothing more than to continue, but… maybe we should wait until you’re healed up before going any further, yeah?"

you’ve never seen such an intimidating man pout until now.

"but–" nikolai starts to argue before you shush him, pressing your forefinger against his lips. "no 'buts,' love. i just patched you up, you’re not ripping that wound open for sex on an old couch."

he motioned towards the hallway with his head. "there is a bed in the bedroom."

you furrow your brows and shake your head at him. "until you can perform without risking major blood loss, it’s a 'no.'"

with an overdramatic sigh, he shifts and lowers himself, resting on top of you with his head on your chest. you stifle a giggle as your fingers stroke his hair, a touch he leans in to.

"how long do gunshots take to heal?" he asks, voice slightly muffled against your shirt.

"a few weeks to a few months, generally." you hum while gently running your hand against the side of the bandages.

you’re unable to keep yourself from bursting out in laughter as he loudly groans in frustration and curses several times into your chest.

translations:

милая (milaya) - dear/darling

моя сладкая (moya sladkaya) - my sweet

принцесса (printséssa) - princess

ангел (angel) - angel

ублюдок (ublyudok) - bastard

taglist: @sofasoap (my biggest support in this series so far!!)

[omgeveryusernameistakenicanteven]

Totally Awesome (pt 2 to Monotony)

Deadpool x Y/n

It’s smexy time B). Reader is gender neutral in this! No particular bits mentioned, only some (hopefully) good smut. Also idk if I should mention but reader is penetrated in this, so if that’s not your thing you’ve been warned! Not sponsored by Tylenol. Pls enjoy :)

Also I’ve decided to start mentioning that requests are open before my stories, so, requests are open!

Deadpool squealed and ran off to Y/n’s bedroom. Y/n had responded by rolling their eyes and going to pop a Tylenol. This Deadpool guy is a headache, especially after a particularly shitty day at work. Still, Y/n thought, maybe he’s good in bed. It always seems to be the odd ones that are.

As soon as Y/n enters the room Deadpool calls, “Like what you see?” He’d stretched himself out on his side, doing his very best impression of the “paint me like one of your french girls” pose, still fully spandex clad.

Y/n raises an eyebrow, but lets their eyes wander. They had to give it to him, he is hot. Even fully clothed Y/n can tell he’s built. Their eyes rest a little longer than necessary on his thighs. Turns out crime fighting on a diet consisting solely of Mexican food is a pretty good muscle-building regime.

“Wellllll?” Deadpool waggles his eyebrows again, and repositions himself slightly.

It strikes Y/n then that he’s trying to be sexy for them. That shouldn’t come as a shock, but it definitely does. They’ve had a history of not all that great boyfriends. To have a man want to please them is almost intoxicating. It’s that more than anything that starts a fire in them. There’s only one little problem though, “You still have your suit on. Take it off.”

“Sorry, babe, no can do. The suit stays on during sex.”

“How are we going to get to having sex if you’re fully clothed?”

“Glad you asked!” He reaches down to his waist band.

“Aht. We don’t need your dick out right now anyways. Lay on your back.” He flops onto his back as Y/n approaches the bed, eyes watching his body hungrily. They wonder briefly if he knew how attractive he is, then figure it wouldn’t hurt to tell him, “There we go, good” they smile. “Handsome boy.”

Y/n straddles his hips, “Pull your mask up.”

“Sor-”

“I’ve already seen the bottom of your face, pull your mask up.”

Deadpool swallows hard but obeys, pulling his mask so it’s caught on the bridge of his nose. His tongue flicks out to wet his lips. Even with his eyes covered Y/n can tell he’s watching them intently.

When they lean down to kiss him Y/n smiles again. For a while they’re content like that, bracing themself above him and admiring how desperate he is for more. Then Y/n moves one of their legs between his thighs. Almost immediately he bucks his hips up into them, desperate for some sort of friction.

“Aww, handsome, you like that?”

“Yess,” he moans, trying to grind up into them and arch his back at the same time.

They chuckle watching him. He gives up trying to press his chest up into them. Y/n watches his face for a while and admires his gasps and moans. They wonder how long it’d been since someone fucked him. He whines out a plea, and Y/n obliges capturing his lips again in a kiss. This time they nip at his bottom lip. Immediately he opens his mouth, more than happy to do what they like.

They’re a bit put out still, not being able to see the rest of his face. Instead they content themself with feeling his body through his suit. Running their fingers over where his nipples should be and marveling at how sensitive he is, even with the added layer. It only makes them want him naked more. Y/n smirks into his mouth and reaches down to palm his now straining dick. “Look at you, baby, are you gonna cum already?”

Without thinking he nods frantically, pushing up into their hand.

Y/n gives a thoughtful hum and pulls their hand away, “Can’t have that, can we?”

He opens his eyes again, hips still trying to find friction against the air. Y/n gets up from the bed and watches him, almost daring him to try to get up. When he lays still they smile again, “Good boy.” Then they grab the hem of their shirt and pull it up halfway, feeling more than seeing his eyes boring into them. Deciding not to torture the poor man too much Y/n doesn’t drag it out. They pull the shirt over their head and toss it into the corner of the bedroom. The rest of their clothes follow shortly after and then they’re back on the bed. 

They straddle him again, this time setting more of their weight on him and letting him rock his hips against them. Deadpool’s hands are twisting in the blankets, clearly trying to restrain from touching until he’s given permission. Such a polite boy, “You can touch me, good boy.” Immediately his hands shoot to their hips, pulling them more firmly onto his bulge and whining in frustration that his cock was still trapped in his suit. Y/n lets him pull their hips more firmly on his dick and smiles when he reaches up instead to fondle their chest, clumsily trying to play with their nipples.

When they were satisfied with that they swat his hands away and ignore his affronted look. “Ready to put that mouth to better use, handsome boy?”

A wicked grin spreads across his face, tongue flicking out to run over his teeth. Y/n is again pleasantly surprised that he’s apparently so eager to please. Large hands had gone to knead at their ass in hopes they’d just move forwards already. Y/n raised themselves on their knees before shuffling forwards a bit and hovering over his face. They laugh a bit when he pulls at their hips, trying to get them to sit.

As soon as Y/n sits down Deadpool wraps his arms up over their thighs to hold them in place. Immediately Y/n realizes that they’re not going to last long like this. ‘Pool’ is eating them out like a man starved. Y/n leans back for better leverage to grind down on his face. Their head drops back onto their shoulders, “Fuck, don’t stop. Handsome boy.” 

Y/n reaches back again to palm at his cock. This only encourages Deadpool more. He releases one of their thighs to sink a finger into them, crooking it slightly. Y/n bears down on the finger, desperately wanting more. Deadpool is only happy to oblige, pushing another finger in and fucking Y/n harder. It’s too much and not enough all at once. Until Y/n suddenly tenses and grinds down hard on his fingers as their orgasm tears through them. Deadpool keeps fingering them through their orgasm.

When they’re done Deadpool pulls his fingers out and traps their thighs again. He keeps on licking and sucking and nipping until Y/n is twitching from overstimulation. They try to kneel up from his onslaught. He keeps them there for one last broad lick that makes their whole body lurch. When he does release them they fall against the headboard to catch their breath while he gets up from under them and kneels up.

“I want you on your back.”

Y/n lets out a laugh, but falls onto their back anyways and spreads their legs. “Fuck me.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” He grins and immediately covers them. For a moment Deadpool debates teasing himself for a while, but seeing Y/n on their back spreading their legs for him makes him push forwards into them right away. If this ends up being a dream he’d be pissed at himself for not getting to the point. Seeing his head push into their entrance almost immediately confirms his choice. It also confirms that he isn’t going to last long at all. Still he tries to ease into it at first. Slowly thrusting alll the way in then dragging back out. He loves their little sounds, loves even more that he chose to have them on their back so he could watch their face. They very quickly drive him to wanting more. So he leans down to prop himself above them on his forearms then lays into it. Right away he feels his orgasm start to build and it only spurs him to go faster. Y/n wraps their legs around his waist and angles their hips up, seemingly recovered from their earlier orgasm.

Deadpool loses his rhythm as his orgasm builds. Y/n had wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. That along with their walls clenching around him draws out his orgasm. He can’t help coming. Vaguely he wonders if he’ll be punished for it, somehow he doesn’t think he’d mind. He pushes as far into them as he can get, then pushes some more. They’d broken the kiss and Deadpool is panting to regain his breath, dick still in them. He lets his weight rest on them for a bit before pulling out and rolling over beside them.

“See? I told you the sex would be totally awesome.”

[spookyji]

hello hello im so loving this txt and their hybrids u have going on ^^

picture the boys hanging out together for the first time in a while, after being busy and working really hard, they all look like varying degrees of exhaustion.

yeonjun and soobin look like they've just had a spiritual cleanse, eyes still a little baggy but there's a glow to them. they're smiling more and they cary themselves like they're floating ˙˚ʚ(´◡`)ɞ˚˙

gyu and kai well... if the wrinkled shirt and knotted hair says anything, is that they've been dragged around like a rag. but their builds are more toned and firm, like they've been doing cardio after cardio.

and.. well... our taehyunnie looks like he's slept on a wooden board with a cheese grater as a blanket 💀 the boys are like ಠ_ಠ u good bro? but he's fine really he loves his kitty so much and sometimes it's him that gets carried away while burrying u into the mattress ( ͡°з ͡°)

OK here’s a braindump on txt n their domestic hybrids lol if we like ill consider using it as a basis for a domestic hybrid series ^^

yeonjun n his bunny who is sooo innocent even after everything he’s done to u <3 like still gets confused n humps pillows when he’s not there bc u get turned on sooo easily just hybrid things <3 ngl jjun n free use is such a thing like you’re his cute bunny pet n he can stuff his cock in your cute cunny whenever bc he owns <3 getting the prettiest collars n getting pampered while giving him a bj n always sitting on his lap no excuses! and sooo much cockwarming ahaha he’s so insatiable for u mwah

soobin n his bunny hybrid he adores taking care of like sooo much dollification energy ahaha like fr n is soo into pampering like pls he will feed u while petting your ears n sitting on his lap >< still teaching n is soo into corruption like sir— (not like rough like jjun tho!!) probably sooo obedient n he’s into it like let him take care of u n feel up your cute boobs while petting your ears and having nice sweet love making sessions on the regular ?? also soobin pushing his cum back into ur cunny bc it’s too much n then he gets flustered n hard again eeek like so much size kink n bulge kink n teaching eeek >< envy n hes such a gentle owner like ugh n he never goes anywhere bc ur so clingy in like a cute way n not an annoying way LOL ok

… sigh. beomgyu n his puppy hybrid big trouble coming >< pretty much non stop energy ugh like istg i don’t think there’s a safe spot to sit in his apartment since he got u <3 like he pounds u in the morning on the counter n ugh suck him off on the sofa n probably on the balcony n like ugh u two r double trouble :P when ur not having sex just playing w/ u outside n giving him licks on the cheek to show affection n just flopping down w ur head on his lap for pets n ear scratches >< why so cute

uh oh. not taehyun n his cat hybrid biggest brat of all time n such a trouble maker >< so much brat going on I can’t— biting his fingers when u don’t want to do smth n scratching when u don’t get attention n always lazing around on his bed while he works while being soo whiny for attention >< like taehyun non stop bite marks on his pretty fingers n has soo many troubles like never getting sleep bc u steal his bedding n sleep in the closet or u sleep w your head on his abs n then he can’t get comfy or has to constantly rub your ears so u don’t start wailing n howling >< sooo much punishment n overstim fr ugh pls probably have red marks on your cute ass all the time n it shows bc u wear oversized shirts only bc u don’t like the way pants don’t have tail holes— ugh only way to make his kitty obedient is to stuff ur cunny w his warm cum so u get nice n submissive <3

and cute disaster hyuka n his puppy hybrid having chaos all the time ~~ raging bulge kink n is gets hard almost every morning bc he wakes up to ur cute sleeping puppy self curled up next to him n tail flicking his crotch— ugh getting pounded by needy hyuka n licking his cheek or riding him in the morning is such a thing— ugh he’s sooo into u n probably always has crumpled shirts bc u follow him around all the time n just pounce on him n lick his cheek n he’s always carrying u on his back everywhere bc he’s big n strong n sweet >< like from puppy hybrids where gyu gets stamina kai gets stronger n broader eeek so cute n ugh so bad at taking care of u probably lost the owner manual for hybrids n just does his best <3 also the worst pull out game istg also likes to give u tummy rubs

so when they meet up for boys nights ugh they’re just sooo… tiredly hot LOL u know what I mean ahaha like yeonjun probably pounded his bunny before he left n taehyun having to watch his cameras in his house to make sure his kitty didn’t steal his blanket again (ya… not happening) n soobin w just his lazy self like he’s soo glowy n in love so cute— n gyu probably messiest hair ever n just like enjoying a little bit of quiet >< n kai showing up late n a little winded but soo happy eeeek >< it’s so cute ahaha they probably have fun discussions about their pets all the time lol not comparing but just laughing ^^ share a nice drink (LEGAL line) n some dinner before they go home… gyu n kai r tackled by their cute puppies n soobin n yeonjun w their obedient bunnies sleeping n…. taehyun’s kitty howling n horny again ><

[sabo-has-my-heart]

IMW Ch. 10: Moving Day

Warnings: 

Word Count: 1160

     Ace grinned as he carried a box into the new apartment, an ear to ear grin on his face as he helped you move in. It wasn’t much, a small 2 bedroom, 1 bathroom apartment, a small living room and kitchen, but it meant that Ace would no longer be sleeping in the living room on your couch. It meant that he’d have his own room and privacy, he could have his own stuff. At least until he found a way back to his own world. As soon as the boxes and new furniture were moved in, you flopped onto the new couch, head leaning back.

     “Oh come on, it wasn’t that bad! I used to do more than this by noon!” Ace said, leaning over the back of the couch as he smiled at you, “the hardest part was the furniture and even that wasn’t too heavy.” he added, making you sigh. You’d hated having to buy new furniture for an entire apartment, but the furniture at your dorm belonged to the college, meaning that you’d had little choice. Though at least you’d managed to find some good stuff at the local thrift store, so you’d gotten a good deal on furniture, and Ace had had a fun time picking out a bed, so it really wasn’t all bad. 

     “Well give me a small break and then we’ll get to unpacking. After that we can order some delivery or something to-go because I don’t want to cook tonight.” you said, Ace’s face lighting up.

     “Oh! Can we have the place with the really spicy noodles!” Ace asked excitedly, making you chuckle.

     “Fine, fine. But in exchange, you have to help me unpack my bedroom.” you said as Ace nodded in agreement.

     “Deal, just let me know once you’re able to start unpacking.” He said, starting to open boxes and unpack a few things. He wouldn’t go into your stuff yet, but he knew where a few things went, so he could at least get that done. 

     Sighing, you stared up at your ceiling. It was still hard to believe everything that had happened in the last 2 months. Ace appearing in your dorm room, getting an apartment to give him a place to live, his ‘job’ as an underground fighter, the fact that you had what amounted to a 17th century pirate living with you. It was all a little… overwhelming when you stopped to think about it. Still, he was a nice guy and he meant well, even if he wasn’t used to the way things worked in your world, and he was trying his best to fit in and not cause too much trouble, so that helped. That being said, you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t be sad to see him leave. Living with him meant that you’d quickly gotten to know each other, meaning that you’d formed a very fast and surprisingly close friendship. The day’s events quickly had you drifting off to sleep, dreaming of the black haired young man just a room away. Dreams of a little boy on a mountain, of 3 brothers and laughter. A captain who could command fire, an angry boy trying to kill a man he would call his father, dreams that you wouldn’t remember come morning but would have you growing ever fonder of the young man staying with you. 

     Waking up the next morning was a little awkward for Ace. He’d started getting used to sleeping on the couch, so much so that waking up to a room that was his in an actual bed was a little bizarre to him. Looking around his new room, Ace couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. It wasn’t the largest room in existence, but the lack of decorations and furniture made it look bigger. He’d never had many possessions, even back in his world. For as messy as his room had always been, it had been mostly clothes and paperwork, never having had much growing up and not hanging onto much after becoming a pirate. But now it was more obvious that he didn’t have much, all of his clothes either stuffed in the closet or in the dresser, a large stack of books next to his bed, his bed, and his signature hat sitting on top of the dresser. As much as part of him wanted to start decorating his room, wanted to buy things to decorate with, he wasn’t sure how long he’d be here. Why buy things to decorate a room if he wasn’t planning on staying too long? That thought seemed to strike something in his heart, his chest clenching. He wasn’t planning on staying. Sooner or later, he planned to return to his own world, to his brother and Pops, to the Whitebeard crew and his men. He’d leave you here in your own world, leave you behind to become another memory. As much as he didn’t want to have regrets, he knew that he’d regret either decision when the time came to return to his world. He could return to his world, his brother, his family, yet he would leave you behind, someone who had become close to him. Or he could stay here, stay in a world that didn’t hate him on principle, with someone who didn’t care or even know who Roger was, and leave behind his family and everything he’d known growing up. He wanted both. He wanted to keep you as a friend, but he wanted his family back. He wanted people to not hate him simply for who his father was, but he liked being a pirate. Taking a deep breath, he ran a hand through his hair. He needed to stop thinking about this, on top of making him depressed, he didn’t want to worry you, you already worried enough about him. Picking up a couple of books, Ace moved to the living room, flopping down on the couch and starting back in on his ‘studies’. While he’d come a surprisingly far way in the last 2 months, there was still apparently more to learn. Seriously, did people in your world ever stop studying? He was going to be smarter than Marco at this rate! The thought made him chuckle as he thought of returning to his world once again, but this time thinking of what everyone would think when he returned smarter. Shaking his head, he once more turned his attention back to the book. As much as he was starting to hate studying, he didn’t know how long it would be before he found a way back and your world needed him to not be a complete idiot. As you’d said, he was going to need a good job eventually and you doubted you’d be able to get him into something like modeling or acting, so he’d have to learn enough to get by. He couldn’t rely solely on his strength and stubbornness anymore. 

[moonlightsolo]

y’all i worked so hard on that pls don’t let it flop 🙏