#some of them still made their slides on canva

[enchantedflameandflower]

Gavin x Reader Part 6!

Morning nuzzles before breakfast…

I had a request to post an update and I had only a bit of editing left so here we go, I hope this brightens your day!

co-written with CheshireCatSmile

@kus-babygirl @shirley-girly @jynx15 @everchar-of-the-shire @scraftsku35

@vavafaure1994 @deathlesun @sickforbillybutcher @butchers-girl @hippo2211

@bohemianblasphemy

karl urban masterlist

direct link to part 1

part 5

warning: very brief mention of past bad relationship

6.

Gavin shifts to start unzipping his sleeping bag. You move a little so he can take yours too and zip them together, shivering again, but this time because of the cooling air. “And you’re sure you don’t mind I come with a whole truck load of baggage?” you ask. It wasn’t your plan to get involved with anyone but it feels so good to have someone actually seem to care about you. But you don’t think you can handle being hurt again.

"I have baggage myself. I usually rush headlong into everything, but...this…I want to build something special. If you do, too.”

You nod and bite your lip. You know there’s so much more to him than what he thinks and you’ve always admired his determination and strength, even if he made mistakes in the past. Some never do anything for themselves and only tear others down and in your opinion that’s far worse than his faults. The rain is still tapping on the tent and nothing sounds better than curling up with him. When the sleeping bags are joined, you slip in and stretch out, watching him, and not minding the glimpse of his strong masculine legs as he moves around.

He slides into the sleeping bag beside you zipping it up so you're both inside tucked away cozy and warm. He has an innate heat coming from him and you can't help but be drawn to it. When he gathers you into his arms you can't help just melting against his body. 

"I can't believe how perfectly you fit against me,” he murmurs low and soft.

You bury your face against the soft henley covering his broad chest, making a quiet little sound. He’s right. Nothing has ever felt like this before. You want to say something back but you’re already drifting off and within a few moments you’ve fallen asleep. At first you’re not sure what disturbs you, but then you realize a low roll of thunder from off in the distance sparked a nightmare that woke you and for a second you can’t remember where you are as your body jerks awake.

Gavin’s arms tighten around you and he murmurs, his voice gruff with sleep. "It's alright sweetheart; you're safe. Just a bad dream. I've gotcha."

You blink rapidly in the dark, but Gavin’s low voice makes you remember immediately where you are. You take a breath. Safe, in his arms. And he feels so good. You close your eyes but your heart is still beating fast and you know it’s going to take a minute before it starts to slow.

"That thunder's just gettin’ to you, that's all." Soon the rain starts a steady drumming on the tent's thick canvas roof.  His large warm hand begins rubbing your back soothingly.  "I can still feel your heart pounding sweetheart. You don't need to worry. I'll keep you safe.” You can feel his breath warm and ruffling your hair lightly.

His hand on your back feels so good. You feel like you already know him so well and know you’re safe with him. After awhile you fall asleep easily again and sleep better than you have in years. When you wake, your face is buried against the curve of his neck and before you realize what you’re doing in your half asleep state, you nuzzle there softly against his skin.

A low hum comes from deep in his throat and he tightens his hold on you again, dragging you close to his body.  "Mmm...that feels good. darlin’. A sweet thing to wake up to." He rubs at your back again then rests his hand on your hip, squeezing softly, steady and warm.

You freeze for a moment as you wake fully and realize what you’re doing. Slow. Slow, you tell yourself again. With 5 more days of this trip left alone with him though you have a feeling that is not going to happen. Every part of him feels so good and you feel like if that big, strong hand started sliding under your shirt right now you would be nothing but exuberant. 

Carefully you shift back a little so you’re not completely on top of him and take a breath of the crisp morning air trying not to think about the two of you naked in this sleeping bag. But suddenly you remember what had happened during the night. Your cheeks heat as you think about how silly it was to have nightmares and be scared of thunder. “Sorry about last night,” you murmur softly. “My ex broke in once, before I moved…so sometimes I’m a little on edge at night, I guess.”

He's quiet for a long moment. "That's awful. I didn't realize how much you'd been through. No woman should have to live with that kind of fear. You certainly don't need to apologize." He presses his lips against your forehead in a tender kiss.

Your eyes sting with his kindness, it’s overwhelming to you and you don’t really know why you told him that, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. You nod mutely and take a breath then slip away from him to stretch tight muscles. “I suppose we should get going.”

He catches your eyes with his own as you look up at him. There's still a myriad of emotions there but something you recognize as…respect? "I can't believe what it must have taken to pull yourself together and pick up to start a new life someplace completely different. That's incredibly brave."

You shrug a little but a small smile tugs at your lips. “I didn’t really have a choice. So I just kept going. But thank you.” His hazel eyes swirl with color and you could get lost there forever if you let yourself.

“You're among friends now. And we don't take kindly to anyone trying to hurt one of our own."  He glances up at the top of the tent. I suppose you're right...we should get going while we have a break in the weather." He looks back at you and smiles softly then tucks your hair behind your ear gently.

For a moment all you can think about is pulling him back into bed on top of you, but instead you turn your head to kiss his palm. “What’s for breakfast?”

He chuckles as he shifts to unzip the sleeping bags.  "A girl who keeps sight of the important things in life." He gets up from the warm fabric and quickly pulls his jeans on. "I'll go get coffee started."

In a short time, as you're pulling yourself together for the day, you smell the heavenly scent of coffee wafting into the tent.  "Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes, " he calls into the tent.

You pull your sweatshirt on and shift to climb out of the tent. Sitting in the open doorway, you pull your boots on and look up to find Gavin crouched by the fire, his jeans molded around his ass and you end up staring as you tie your laces until suddenly your stomach grumbles.

He looks over his shoulder grinning at you. "Sounds like last nights dreams worked up an appetite." He beckons you over to the fire and hands you a plate with pancakes and bacon and you wonder how the heck he managed that and coffee too so quickly.

“Oh my gosh,” you smile. “How did you do all this?” He pours some syrup over your pancake and you take a big bite, humming appreciatively. It’s really good. “It’s amazing Gavin, you’re going to spoil me…”

He smiles at you. "Maybe it's time you had some of that in your life." He sits down beside you and takes a bite of his own pancake. Even the campfire coffee is good. His leg is just barely brushing yours as you sit beside each other.

“Mmmm I love bacon…” you murmur, and he’s cooked it perfectly, crisp and hot. Then you pick up your camp mug and sip the dark coffee slowly, savoring then flavor on your tongue. “You better be careful or I might just show up at your house every morning,” you joke.

"Now that's a pleasant thought," he chuckles and winks at you. He's quiet then for a moment. He looks at the fire and says softly, "Though it was nice having you in my arms when I woke up this morning." The way his voice drops low makes you want him with every fiber of your being.

“It was very nice,” you agree, a little breathless. “Except for the thunder I don’t remember the last time I slept that well.” Your mind drifts back to the night before, him pulling you close and kissing you like he couldn’t get enough. You wonder if you can get a replay of it tonight.

Breaking your thoughts, he leans toward you and steals a quick, soft kiss before getting up to quickly take care of the breakfast dishes. He pours the last of the coffee into your mug and smiles at you then continues with his task, drying everything and putting it away in his pack. “I'm going to take the tent down, you just enjoy your coffee."

“Gavin, really, you should have at least let me clean the dishes,” you sigh softly knowing that’s going to be an argument you’re going to lose. But you figure you might as well accept it for now and settle back to enjoy watching him. “I owe you one.”

"I'll keep that in mind," he says with a charming grin that causes his dimple to show. He's so efficient tearing down the tent and packing everything away in his pack. You at least rinse your cup and dry it off to hand to him before gathering up the few things you still have to pack.

It’s not long before you are all packed up and you head out a bit further to survey more of the land that will be part of the cut and then off to the west so you can document the saplings from 3 years ago. It was late midday when the clouds started to roll in again. “Maybe we should have headed to our next camping spot sooner,” you comment, but you really wanted to get all that work done.

"Yeah...there was another area a little farther in I wanted to take a look at too. If you don't mind spending a little extra time...I know you probably have work piling up. But if it’s okay with you?"  He studies you a moment then walks over and adjusts your pack on you so the weight is more even.

“Oh, I don’t mind at all. We have our raincoats after all. I should be able to get a cell signal at the cabin to answer a few emails, but I won’t have any trouble catching up on work when we get back. I know you wanted to make some repairs at the cabin as well and I can work on the reports.”

"Okay, that sounds great. Ready?" He caresses your cheek softly before turning to start up the trail. After hiking steadily for about half an hour he stops and pulls an old map out of a pocket and studies it a moment. "I think it's this way," he catches you when you start off too quick and stumble over an old root system from the ancient adjoining trees. He holds onto you a little longer than absolutely necessary then makes sure you have your footing and starts off again.

This time he takes your hand in his, warm and strong and steady and you almost melt. You walk for a little bit longer until he finds the spot but you realize you are near a ridge and you go over to find an amazing view over a valley of evergreens below.

"It's beautiful isn't it? Now...I think there's a meadow...oh, right here! It should be right...oh my God, it's real!"  

~.~.~.~

Next up: a little bit of magic enhances the romantic atmosphere ❤️ Let me know what you think!

[theshadowrealmitself]

Group projects suck

[bi-writes]

Okay but MOB sitting on Simon's lap, cuddling as they watch some movie Simon picked out because it was his turn. At one point she gets up and he thinks she's just going to use the restroom, hands on her hips to help stabilize her. Only instead of leaving, she turns around and sits on her knees between his legs. She bats her eyes at him but otherwise just soaking in how pretty he is. He probably makes a joke, says he loves her and when he still doesn't move figures she just wants a moment and continues to watch the screen.

When she finally works herself up to it, she starts sliding her hands up and down his thighs and just the sensation and imagery alone has him hard and he can't bring himself to ask her to stop when it feels so nice. Eventually her hands wander up further and she begins to play with the button of his jeans. Still not stopping her, even as she unbuttons and zips them down to pull out his erection. When he finally looks down, she stops and stares innocently up at him.

As soon as his attention's somewhat back up on the screen, she repositions herself and licks a stripe up his dick to bring his head into her mouth to swirl around. He doesn't even last that long and she doesn't let him pull her off when he comes.

Or something like that...

mail-order bride (18+)

simon likes action movies. they're his favorite, by far. he likes to watch the over-the-top car races in the middle of metropolitan cities, he likes big, stupid explosions and when the protagonist has their enemy at the end of their gun and says something cheesy like "you're not going anywhere now."

he told you once that he likes the simplicity. the happy endings. the key recovered, a family saved, the epic conclusion of an explosive journey that always ends in the bad guy in handcuffs and the good guy on a beach sipping a mai tai, getting the girl, saving the world.

you think maybe he likes it because it dampens reality. you have seen the aftermath of an op gone wrong; in this way, simon can fantasize just a little. he can pretend that there is nothing wrong with the world for 90 minutes or so.

what's so wrong with that?

he's so pretty.

he ran errands for you today. came back from the store with a paper bag in his hands, setting it down on the counter and unpacking it. you were sat at the kitchen counter, the orange cat wrapped up completely in a burrito of a towel so you could cut her dagger-like claws without risk of retaliation. simon was watching carefully out of the corner of his eye, but as he unpacked the bag, you had all but melted in your chair.

a refill of your favorite makeup remover (you were going to run out tonight, guaranteed). vitamins (ya look right sick, baby, drink y'r juice). your favorite brand of pads (just tell me which ones, i'll get it right, promise). sour sweets (cherry-flavored, of course, sour because he likes the face you make when you pop them into your mouth). when the last box hit the counter, you had dropped the cat, much to her relief.

condoms. fucking condoms.

no, he's not pretty. simon is so fucking hot.

he doesn't budge when you get up to put the empty popcorn bowl into the sink. when you come back in the room, simon is still staring at the television, eyes trained on the spy on screen hopping between rooftops as they dodge bullets. you bite your lip watching him, unable to stop thinking about simon, simon, simon.

he's wearing nice jeans. straight jeans, but even the extra give doesn't matter when your husband is made of pure muscle and fat. you can see his stomach through his shirt since it's tucked in, white fabric showing off that nice pudge that you love laying your head on, your palm, knowing how solid and strong he most certainly is. nghghhhh, and his arms--big, bulging, tattooed, a perfect canvas for colorful markers or glitter or maybe your tongue.

it's subconscious, really. the carpet is soft under your knees as you kneel at his feet, lowering yourself so you can blink up at him big and wide as he keeps his eyes on the movie. he does notice you, however; his big hand slides down his thigh, and your eyes flutter a little when he passes it over your head then down your face, a pretty little pet between his legs.

"not supposed to be on y'r knees f'me, baby," simon mutters, but you can't answer because his thumb slips into your mouth. you wrap your lips around it absentmindedly, running your tongue over the thick pad of it. "tha's my job."

you sit up on your knees, leaning over him, and he gives you his attention finally, a twitch of a smile as he bends his neck a little and kisses you warmly. you steady yourself by putting your hands on his thighs, gripping the meat of them firm as you slip your tongue into his mouth and draw a low grunt from deep within his chest.

"always working for me, simon," you whisper between kisses. "always..."

fuck, the blood rushes to his cock almost immediately. he has such a soft spot for you. taking care of you, doing things for you, buying you what you need--it makes him so fucking hard thinking about fulfilling every need of yours. you deserve nothing but nice dreams, good meals, happy cats, a well-loved pussy, all the love his broken heart can give. he chubs up in his pants every time you ask him for something.

can you carry this for me, simon?

oh, i need some help with this, baby, just here...

can you get me more of this? i'm about to run out.

the zipper is stuck, simon...can you get me out of this?

ugh, you're his walking wet dream. and you're kneeling in between his legs, his sweet girl pouting up at him, and--oh, fuck--

your hands are soft under his shirt. you've untucked it just enough, your warm fingers sliding along the band of his jeans. he hisses a little, his body stiffening, and you smooth a thumb over his belt before kissing him again.

"you're so pretty, simon," you whisper, and he licks over your bottom lip in response, drawing a soft whine out of you. his thighs widen just a little when he hears the clink of his belt, feeling the waistband loosen as you draw it out from the loops and toss it onto the carpet behind you. "such a handsome man you are..."

"come off it," simon growls a little, and you giggle, freeing the button and slipping your hand down. his mouth falls open in a silent moan as you cup him with a hot hand, fingers sliding under his length to fondle his balls.

"mmm..." you follow his sputtering mouth, breathing him in. "actually, simon...i really, really wanna get on it..."

"wot a brat," simon murmurs, clicking his tongue. "can't be fuckin' patient--ahh!"

you pull him out of his jeans with a firm tug before sticking your tongue out and kneeling back down to lick a curious stripe up the underside of him. simon is pulsing, radiating heat and already leaking beads of stringy pre-cum, and as you suck the tip of him into your mouth, you realize just how thick your husband really is.

you've never seen him quite this naked, quite this up close. when he fucked your thighs, he had felt big, but his cock is truly making a space for itself in your mouth--

"ah!" you gasp as he fists your hair and pulls you off, leaning down to kiss you hard.

"baby--"

"i want it--" you whimper, using your hands, letting the spit from your mouth drip down his cock as your fingers spread it wide, pumping him softly. "simon, please! please! you always say...always say i can have whatever i want, please..."

when he lets your hair go, you dive. you suck him into your mouth, practically purring as you press him back into the couch and suck. he tastes like a man should, like a husband should, musk and a little sweat and just enough soap to have you a little light-headed. with the first bob of your head, simon shudders, a big hand cupping the back of your neck as he drops his chin to his chest to watch you. he uses his other hand to push your hair back, his mouth falling open a little as he watches your eyes roll back in your head as you try to fit more of him into your mouth.

your mouth squelches with every bob. spit gathers around the edges of your mouth, little globs dripping out as you slurp and flick your tongue over every vein and soft patch of skin. you're making a mess of him, all soft mouth and wiggly tongue and gentle moans that make him seize up.

it's not even a minute of your soft sucking, and simon is caught off guard by his own release. he wants to apologize, but you look so fucking pretty, coughing a little around his wet cock.

you don't stop then either.

some of it drips down around your hands, his own cum webbing between your fingers and getting onto the front of your shirt and staining his jeans, but you keep your mouth on him. you nuzzle the head of his cock against the inside of your cheek, pull off just enough to suck so softly on the tip of him.

"baby, fuck--" simon chokes, watching you through lidded, hazy eyes. "please, fuck--"

"i want it," you whisper, smoothing a wet hand down his length. he's getting hard all over again, and he nearly cums a second time when you let your eyes find his and pepper kisses from the tip of him all the way to the base. "don't i get w-whatever i want, simon? c-can't i...can't i have more?"

simon chuckles a little. he uses his thumb to swipe a glob of cum off your chin, bringing it up to his own mouth to suck off with a snort.

"you want more, baby?" simon asks, and you sit back up on your knees, pressing your forehead to his as he eyes your lips. they're a tad swollen, kiss-bitten and wet. "wot more do ya want, hmm? wot is it my wife wants so much, huh?"

you smile, wide, those big eyes sparkling. you give him another slow stroke with your hand, and he hisses, gritting his teeth as he watches your smile get just that much bigger.

"i want you to stop playing games with me, simon," you say softly. "you'll never win. so just give me what i deserve."

"wot you deserve?"

"don't i deserve you, simon?" you ask, and when he fails to answer, you swipe your thumb over his cock, drawing a cracked groan out of him. "you won't make me beg, will you, simon?"

"no," simon pants, leaning further into you, pressing his face to yours. "never. my wife doesn't beg for anythin'."

"you promise, simon?"

"my wife gets woteva she fuckin' asks for. olways."

[gi4hao]

the idiots you date — x. minghao

roommate!minghao x gn!reader

word count: 1k

genre: fluff but slightly angsty (mention of a past toxic relationship)

“you shouldn’t work for a company that doesn’t respect you”

“yeah, and you shouldn’t date guys who don’t deserve you, yet here we are.”

minghao’s face bears signs of exhaustion that you’ve learned to recognize months ago. signs which started to appear exactly when he took on this new “big corporate job” as you often call it, simply because you’re not quite sure to understand what it is.

you’ve finished your dinner an hour ago. you used to wait for him to come home, but that was when he wasn’t working overtime most days of the week.

“they needed me to finish some urgent reports, i didn’t really have a choice,” he tells you before you can even ask anything. his tone is like a permanent sigh, but you know it’s not directed towards you.

sat at the kitchen table, you remain silent, fiddling with the rings he took off before washing his hands. the lights are dimmed, making the dark circles under his eyes slightly more prominent.

“how was your date?” he asks as he takes his plate out of the microwave, probably wanting to change the subject. but you doubt he’s still interested in your date anecdotes, especially since this one was your third of the week.

although he comes to sit right next to you, you carefully avoid his eyes when you reply:

“okay, i guess? the guy was nice but had terrible takes on most topics we talked about. well, ‘we’ is kind of a stretch because i was doing most of the talking. i think he was just here to eat good food and make me pay for most of it.”

“so… not okay, then”, minghao corrects you, and the silence that follows speaks louder than any word would have.

you’ve been single for almost a year now, and your last relationship was not exactly a model of good and healthy communication.

living alone after the breakup was a depressing prospect, and minghao was in need of a roommate to avoid letting his job drive him insane: a perfect match for two long-time friends like you two.

there was always a certain closeness between you, but living together has made it more intimate, and consequently harder to ignore... which is why you decided to ask for the help of various dating apps in hope to get minghao out of your head.

“yeah, not okay…” you sigh, mindlessly sliding one of his rings on your finger.

your gaze lands on the painting hung next to the fridge. one of minghao’s, which you insisted should be put up in your apartment; swirls of paint meeting in rosebuds and milky tulips. you can still see where the paint was spread across the canvas by his fingers.

with a tinge of sadness, you realize minghao hasn’t drawn anything in months. his paint-covered clothes were all replaced by dull suits that make him look like the people he used to feel sorry for.

“what time do you start tomorrow?” you ask, pouring him another glass of water.

his lips press into a thin line; you’re not sure whether he’s holding back a sigh of annoyance or just mentally preparing for an answer you’re not going to like.

“7. there’s a meeting i need to prepare for.”

“and when you get to the office at 7, are other employees there? or just you?”

“don’t start,” he rolls his eyes, grabbing his plate to go put it in the dishwasher. “we’ve already discussed this, it’s a dead-end.”

he’s right, this conversation has never ended well. but your eyes keep coming back to that painting, to everything he’s slowly turning his back to. the sadness ebbs away, giving way to a rising anger:

“no, i will start actually,” you state, walking up to him. “you’re unhappy, hao. you shouldn’t work for a company that doesn’t respect you.”

“yeah, and you shouldn’t date guys who don’t deserve you, yet here we are,” he replies, slamming the dishwasher shut. but his voice sounded more cutting than intended: “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said that.”

there are a thousand words on your lips right now, but few of them would be reasonable to say out loud. meanwhile, minghao is looking at you like you’re a ticking time bomb.

“but you said it. so now i expect you to either hit me with a miracle solution or kiss me.”

you said it without really thinking, basically shrugging as you know he will never take you seriously. the best outcome would be for him to never speak about your love life ever again.

but his reply makes you instantly freeze: “what if i did both?”

a rush of warmth spreads from the pit of your stomach, radiating through your entire body as his hand comes to meet your cheek, silently asking for confirmation that this is something you want.

your lips crash against his before he can even start to lean in, and the feeling of his skin so close to yours feels so unreal you expect him to push you away any second.

but instead, he matches your eagerness to the point where you’re scared you might lose your balance.

“i hope you like that solution,” he breathes out, leaving one last kiss on your nose.

in that fleeting moment, you reunite with the old minghao, the lively one who makes his own decisions and owns up to his actions. the one you fell in love with years ago.

“absolutely”, you chuckle, your hands meeting behind his neck. “…so i guess i can tell that guy we won’t go on a second date.”

“you better,” he earnestly tells you as he starts to take his black blazer off. “working from 7 to 9 will never be as painful as watching another idiot take you on a date. from now on, i’ll take care of it.”

-> rbs and feedback are always appreciated!

masterlist here!

[loaksky]

Hi I was wondering if you wrote or if you will write a part 2 to neighbour Ellie x reader, cause I would love to see how their relationship will progress and maybe there can be a bit of jealous Ellie and insecure reader, in like maybe they meet their exes or something like that

neighbor!ellie x sunshine!fem reader, hurt + comfort / fluff / smut MDNI!! or we’re beefing!! / established relationship, wc: 5.2k

synopsis: things between you and ellie seem to be going great! that is until you pay her a visit at work to drop off lunch and find that the threads that tie her and an overfriendly coworker tangle too much for your liking.

content warnings: language, slightly mean!ellie makes a return, reader isn’t necessarily insecure, but a little unsure of the circumstances, 18 + content / filthy make-up sex that consists of: brief shower-sex, scissoring, fingering / oral (reader & ellie!receiving), thigh-riding, so much kissing and mushy feelings.

author’s note: in love with this idea ! been mulling over how to expand on their relationship & i feel like this is a great segue ! hcs below; leave some more scenarios for existing couples (emt!abby, collegebff!ellie or others) and i’ll answer them ! (also not proofread well like usual lmao)

main masterlist | tlou masterlist

jealous!ellie & jealous!reader are SO different, but i feel like the outcome would be so…YUM.

feel like you’d be more reserved about being jealous.

like lately, it seems like things between you and ellie seem like they can’t get any better.

the two of you spend so much time together, whether it’s having picnics in the park with some pastries you make, testing out recipes after close at your cafe or having sleepovers at one or the other’s apartment.

ellie’s lowkey obsessed with you and at times it makes you blush because after the initial stages of feeling your relationship out, you find that ellie’s extremely vocal and outright with her affection for you.

and for the longest time, you don’t question it. don’t really say much because ellie’s particularly good at reassuring you even if you don’t ask.

it’s why you think you’re overreacting when you decide to surprise her and bring her lunch on a random afternoon in the middle of the week.

the top half of her coveralls hangs around her hips, dirtied white tank exposing tanned, inked flesh and lean muscle when you enter the lobby.

she’s leaning against one of the tool carts with her arms crossed over her chest, gaze unwavering.

when you trace her eyeline, you realize there’s another girl nearby bent under the hood of a shiny red car.

she says something imperceptible and suddenly ellie’s throwing her head back with a laugh, sound muffled by the sliding plexiglass.

“hey, receptionist is on break, can i help you with something?” a mechanic is poking his head into the lobby from an adjoining office.

“uh, i’m here for ellie?” the mechanic’s glancing through the glass into the main garage before standing from his rolling chair to dust his hands on his coveralls.

“yeah, she’s supposed to be watching the front,” he laughs. “too busy flirting with her lil girlfriend to pay attention.”

he doesn’t notice the way your face falls or how you almost drop the little canvas bag altogether.

you chance another glance at the two, find that the girl has emerged from under the hood and you swallow hard because god, she’s so fucking pretty.

doesn’t help that seeing her and ellie side-by-side makes you wonder if the two of you look that good together.

they look like they were made for each other and they even share similar interests! you don’t know a damned thing about cars and ellie’s gaze nearly glazes over every time you’re talking about your recipes and coffee pairings.

“uh, actually,” you stop him. “i don’t think she was expecting me, so i’ll just drop this off.”

he pauses.

“you sure? i can get her real quick, she’s not busy.”

ellie still hasn’t clocked you, so you shake your head.

“it’s fine,” you assure him. “i’ll talk to her later.”

he merely shrugs, meets you halfway for the canvas bag, and you’re quickly ducking out of the garage.

“babe?”

ellie’s right on the dot, you realize, when you hear her through the cracked sliding door to the balcony.

you’ve just finished watering your plants and now you’re jotting down a quick brainstorm for the upcoming spring launch.

through the window, you see ellie kicking her shoes off at the entrance before assessing her surroundings and poking her head into your bedroom for good measure.

“babe?” she calls out.

you stand, tucking the little notebook under your arm before sliding back inside.

she seems to light up when she sees you, crossing the living room to meet you halfway.

“hey, els.”

you’re letting her engulf you in a hug, arms wrapping around your waist as she buries her face in the crook of your neck.

“missed you today,” she hums, rocking your weight from side to side.

“missed you too,” you say gently.

ellie’s pulling away a short distance, finger bumping under your chin so you’ll look up at her.

“why didn’t you say hi when you stopped in today?” she nearly pouts. “zack came in when we were slow and said that someone dropped something off for me.”

you shrug, unable to tell her that insecurity was rearing its ugly head and you didn’t know how to deal with it in that moment.

“my girl didn’t wanna eat with me?”

“sorry,” you mumble, burning up under the heat of her gaze. “i couldn’t stay long.”

her brows are furrowing, hands coming up to smooth your hair from your face and brush over your shoulders.

“everything okay, babe?”

you nod once, then twice.

“yeah, why wouldn’t i be?”

ellie’s watching you closely, fingers cupping your neck.

“talk to me,” she encourages softly. “did something happen?”

you swallow, shake your head, and put on your most convincing smile before leaning up to give her a peck on the lips.

“m’okay,” you tell her.

she doesn’t look convinced, but she also doesn’t wanna pry.

changes the subject instead.

“so does this mean, you’ll swing by and actually hang out with me soon?” she asks, body relaxing when you start smoothing over the wrinkles in her coveralls as a distraction.

you nod, smile widening when she starts peppering kisses all over your face.

for a little bit, you forget about ellie’s coworker and you forget about the comment that zack made, but then you’re popping in again almost two weeks later.

they’re shoulder to shoulder in the body shop, looking at something under the hood of a silver pick up truck. ellie’s engrossed, but the girl’s fullblown staring, paying no mind to whatever ellie’s explaining in the engine bed.

makes you sick to your stomach thinking that if ellie so much as chances a glance, their noses could brush.

“hey receptionist is— oh.”

it’s zack, the same mechanic from last time.

he’s wiping his hands on an old towel as he emerges from one of the bays.

“ellie!” he shouts past the propped open door.

she nearly jumps out of her skin, parting from her coworker as she throws a cross look over her shoulder.

“your girl’s here,” he announces.

ellie’s straightening up, craning her neck even more before her face splits into a bright smile.

she’s abandoning the girl by the truck, jogging across the body shop to duck into the lobby.

“hi, angel.”

your cheeks warm when she slides her arm around your waist to pull you into her.

“gonna go on lunch break, don’t wait up,” she calls & you’re sparing the girl near the truck a glance.

her name’s emma if the stitching on the right breast of her coveralls is anything to go by.

she makes a show of taking you in from head to toe before her gaze cuts to zack and they seemingly share a wordless exchange.

oh.

you have no clue what to make of that, but ellie’s steering you from the lobby and out into the crisp air.

it’s still a little chilly outside, but you’re wearing one of ellie’s favorite sweatshirts and she’s shrugging on a hoodie hanging from a coatrack by the door.

“my truck?” she offers when a chill rips down your spine.

you only hum.

when the two of you are settled, her in the driver’s seat and you in the passenger’s, she’s taking the little bag with lunch containers and setting it on her dash before pulling you towards her to eliminate every inch of space between the two of you.

“whaddya doing?” you sigh out a laugh.

“i missed you,” ellie says simply.

“ellie, you slept over last night,” you squeak out a breathy laugh when her ice cold hands slide under the warmth of the red fleece. “we saw each other this morning.”

“so?” she replies petulantly. “wanna be with you all the time.”

you’re wearing a turtleneck underneath the sweatshirt so she’s nosing along your jaw before pressing a few soft kisses there.

“you’re so clingy recently, els,” you giggle, arms winding around her neck.

“duh.” and your belly flips when she doesn’t even deny it. “you’re so fucking cute and i just wanna keep you in my pocket all the time.”

that earns her a full-hearted laugh and you really begin to wonder why you let that girl with her stupidly perfect blown out hair and stupidly rounded ass and the most stupidly pretty face ever make you question your ellie.

you live in bliss for the duration of her forty-five minute break where she does a whole lot of eating, but not necessarily the food you made for her.

the windows are equal parts fogged and frosted by the time she’s done with you and you’re shimmying your jeans back up in the back seat of her truck as she shrugging the top half of her discard coveralls and her hoodie back on again.

“you didn’t even touch to food i made you,” you whine.

“i’ll eat it on my ten,” she assures you, and your toes curl when she wipes her lips with the back of her hand.

“liked what i had for lunch better,” she says so casually, your cheeks are on fire.

“ellie!”

“definitely need dessert when i get home,” she insinuates, leaning her weight over your blissed out body.

she plants a kiss on your mouth before climbing back into the front seat.

but, in the lobby, when she’s bidding you a farewell with another peck on the lips, promising she’ll try to come home early, you notice emma’s eyes again. they’re searing, laced with obvious annoyance.

ellie’s returning to her duties and you’re ducking into their restroom for a moment to splash your face with cool water.

ellie’s never given you a reason to doubt her, has been a perfect girlfriend since the beginning, but you can’t help yourself.

especially not when you’re ducking out and you hear it.

“so i’m not the only one surprised that her girl looks like that?” you think it’s zack, but you can’t be so sure.

“i dunno, she’s hot, but they don’t really match,” another voice sounds. “especially since her last…thing was with emma.”

and, wow, fuck, you hadn’t been expecting that.

“damn, i forgot about that,” maybe zack says. “it was at the party mel and them threw, right? when they fucked?”

you’d wanted to give the benefit of the doubt. maybe they’d been a thing once upon a time, kissed on occasion, but hearing it put so crassly makes you feel like you’re gonna throw up.

the bell’s tinkling hard against the glass when you throw the door open.

and perhaps the situation with finding out about ellie and emma goes hand-in-hand with the way ellie experiences her jealousy.

maybe the fact that ellie still works closely with a previous situationship and is obviously on friendly terms with makes you withdraw a little.

you’re spending a lot more time at your cafe, readying for spring launch and brainstorming new recipes.

you don’t want to bore ellie, especially when you’ve been so in your head about everything lately, so you’re putting in more hours, coming home late at night.

truthfully, ellie’s devastated because she misses her girl :/ why are you always so busy suddenly?

so when a familiar face comes poking into the cafe a few weeks down the line, your eyes are as wide as saucers.

“wow, alex, is that you?”

she’s an ex who’d moved abroad for work a few years back. and the break up had been amicable enough, but she’d moved on and so had you.

the only contact the two of you keep is the occasional comment on social media and a text or two during the holidays.

she’s grinning ear-to-ear.

“what are you doing here?” you ask incredulously, setting the rag down on the bartop to round the counter.

you’d been in the middle of prepping to close up shop when the bells chimed against the glass.

“visiting my parents for a few weeks,” she answers. “thought i’d stop by and see how you’re doing.”

“great, i’m doing great,” you assure her with a warm smile. “what about you? how’s germany?”

“definitely miss the food here sometimes, but you know,” she shrugs and you’re letting out a laugh. “and...julia’s pregnant.”

and your brows are shooting up, arms wrapping around her middle.

“alex, that’s so exciting!” you cheer. “congratulations.”

her cheeks are red when you pull away.

“yeah,” she says softly, eyes gentle. “i’m so excited.”

and you’re glad to hear that things are working out for her, that she’s established herself well and she’s building the family she’s always dreamed of.

“and you?” she asks.

“what about me?”

“are you seeing anyone?”

it’s your turn to warm, fidgeting under her expectant gaze.

“i am,” you confirm.

her smile widens

“that’s great,” she says genuinely. “i’m glad. i hope they make you happy.”

and it really makes you draw into yourself for a moment because ellie does. she makes you so fucking happy, you don’t know what to do with yourself sometimes.

“yeah,” you hum. “she’s great.”

the two of you end up catching up a little as you close, and she even takes you up on your offer of visiting again for a tasting before she leaves!

and this is most likely what sends ellie over the edge.

at first she didn’t know why you were suddenly so distant, knew you were dedicated, but didn’t know why you were so invested as of late.

recently, it’s been her popping into your apartment, but being disappointed to find that you’re not even home.

and the days that she does catch you, you’re pecking her on the lips and rushing out the door.

makes ellie question if there’s something she should be paying closer attention to.

honestly, she’s just really worried that she did something wrong, so as she’s trekking up the sidewalk to approach your little cafe with a bundle of cute flowers around 10 in the evening, she’s feeling a weird sense of deja vu.

finds that the open sign has been flipped and that the lights are dim, but nearly trips over her steps when she peers inside and sees you behind the counter.

you’re not alone, a tall figure leaned up against the bartop, obviously deeply interested in whatever you’re animatedly talking about.

you’re still wearing your apron, hair falling from its hold and a lump is lodging its way into ellie’s throat.

tugs gently on the handle to see that it’s locked and the motion catches both you and your company’s attention.

god, whoever you’re with is an absolute stunner and ellie’s swallowing hard as you round the counter and flit through the tables to come let her in.

“els, what are you doing here?” you ask, smiling softly.

barely registers what you’re saying because the girl you’re with has straightened and there’s something so put together and elegant about the brunette that makes a pang of insecurity begin to coil in ellie’s stomach.

“wanted to see you,” she says simply.

“oh,” you reply. “we were just finishing up here, i would’ve been home in like an hour.”

and that leaves such a sour taste in her mouth because a lot can happen in an hour, in forty-five minutes even.

“great, i’ll walk you home,” ellie says, tone pinched.

your brows furrow and you’re opening your mouth to ask ellie if everything’s fine, but alex is placing a casual hand on your shoulder to remind you she’s there and ellie can’t help but zero in on the way her slender fingers curl.

“alex,” she introduces, offering her other hand.

“ellie,” your girlfriend bites back, glancing at alex’s outstretched palm before glancing back up at her.

there’s a twinkle of knowing in alex’s eye as she nods thoughtfully.

“heard a lot about you,” she says simply.

ellie merely hums.

and god, you’re mortified because you’d spent the entire night raving about ellie even though alex was supposed to be giving you feedback on launch ideas.

you’d told her how kind and great ellie was. instead, here she is, ice cold and glaring.

“well...” alex turns her attention to you. “i really appreciate tonight, everything was phenomenal.”

you preen under the praise and ellie’s rolling her eyes, fist tightening around the stems of the flowers.

“of course, anytime,” you assure her. “thank you for visiting me again.”

and seeing the two of you side-by-side, ellie feels so small. because you’ve always been so pretty, so out of her league and the two of you look like a match made in heaven.

“always,” alex replies, and ever the instigator, she adds, “text me when you get home?”

“i will,” you tell her, brushing past ellie to lock her out. “goodnight, alex, be safe!”

she says something in return that evades ellie’s hearing, but she’s far too livid to even tune in.

you’ve barely locked the door behind her when ellie’s voice cuts through the tense air.

“who the fuck was that?” she asks sharply.

you turn on your heel, brows dipping because ellie’s rarely let her anger get the best of her.

“ellie, what are—”

“i asked you a question,” she says firmly.

you roll your lips, gaze downcast because such a good moment has been obliterated by ellie’s fiery temper.

“we dated a few years ago,” you answer honestly. “she was back in town for the next few weeks and i wanted to do something nice.”

ellie lets out a humorless laugh.

“so i’ve been worried sick for weeks because you wanna ghost me when you’ve really been parading around with your ex?” ellie huffs.

and okay, wow, you hadn’t really expected that from her because your ellie is usually relatively level-headed.

“this is only the second time i’ve seen her, ellie,” you argue. “we were friends way before we even dated and it was a clean break up. we were just catching up.”

ellie’s tossing the bouquet of flowers, now crushed by her unrelenting fist, onto the nearest table top.

“just catching up, huh?” she mocks. “so a romantic set up, just the two of you, is just catching up? you said not to wait up for you because you’d be caught up with work. good to know that screwing your ex is—”

“this is work,” you bite back. “i’ve been trying to get my bearings for this upcoming launch and she was kind enough to put up with all my crazy ideas and all my rambling,” then quietly, “given ninety percent of it was about you.”

“what, you couldn’t ask me?” ellie huffs. “you know i’d help you if you wanted me to!”

“i didn’t ask because i know all this shit bores you,” you say weakly. “alex was just being nice.”

that shuts ellie up, douses her anger like a bucket of ice cold water on a fire. and now she feels like a piece of shit because she hadn’t known that you felt that way.

“and she’s engaged,” you add, pulling away from her when she takes a step towards you. instead you busy yourself with gathering your spread and all the silverware. “they’re expecting a child.”

and fuck, ellie wishes she’d slowed down. wishes that she hadn’t talked out of her ass.

“i didn't—”

“you’re one to talk, ellie,” you add coldly. “you work in close proximity with a girl you used to fuck regularly. you’re still friends with her, and it’s obvious to every single soul imaginable that i’m just an obstacle to her and that she’s still interested. but i didn’t say anything even if it fucking ate away at me because i know you. you’ve never given me a reason to doubt us.”

that knocks that wind from ellie’s lungs because she hadn’t realized that you knew. just wanted to sweep it under the rug because her and emma were never serious and she didn’t want you worrying.

“wait, angel, i’m sorry,” ellie says. “i—”

you shake your head.

“whatever, ellie,” you whisper. “i have to close up.”

“c’mon, babe, don’t—”

“i don’t wanna talk about this anymore,” you cut her off. “i’ll be home soon, but i wanna be alone right now.”

when you get home and see ellie’s sneakers by the door, you take in a deep breath and try to mentally prepare yourself for the inevitable conversation, but instead, you’re met with the smell of your favorite take out and a soft murmur from your vinyl player in the living room.

when you make it to the end of the corridor to peer into the kitchen, you see ellie taking down a few plates.

she’s glancing over her shoulder, body seemingly relaxing when she finds you standing in the archway of the kitchen.

“hey,” she greets softly, and you belatedly realize that her voice is hoarse.

“hi,” you reply.

“wanna eat first?” she asks you, but you don’t answer, too busy analyzing her.

you put two and two together; figure that she’s been crying if the red bags under her eyes and the dying flush on her cheeks is anything to go by.

she takes a step towards you and you seem to snap out of it.

“wanna shower first,” you tell her.

you hear her gulp.

“okay,” she says.

and you hate this. you hate being upset and you hate that she’s upset and knowing that ellie cried makes you wanna cry, so you’re taking a step towards her.

she’s glancing at you.

“shower with me?” you offer timidly.

ellie’s pushing off the counter, nodding eagerly.

and truthfully, ellie had every intention of keeping her hands to herself, but then you were asking her to help work the soap down your back.

then you were turning to face her to rinse under the stream of the showerhead. the sudsy water’s making its way down the column of your throat and the curves of your body and ellie’s tongue is so dry, she feels like it could crack in her mouth.

her hands settle on the narrow of your waist, right over the swell of your hips as she presses open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder.

“i’m so sorry, angel,” she whispers, hands sliding to rest against the small of your back.

you give in even though you’re still in your head, arms looping around her neck as she brushes your hair to one side and starts paying a lot more attention to the spot right behind your ear.

“s’okay, els,” you assure her softly. “i’m sorry, too. i was being a brat.”

your fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of her neck, breath hitching when she grabs a palmful of your ass and breaks away from your neck to catch your lips between her own.

“you don’t know how much i love you,” she murmurs between kisses, sighing brokenly when the plush of your tits presses against her sensitive nipples.

you moan when one of her hands slides down your front and gently brushes over your clit.

“ellie,” you whimper.

“let me show you?”

your head is lolling back when the pads of her calloused fingers circle your entrance to gather the slick that’s accumulating there.

you nod.

“yeah, yeah, ellie, please,” you choke.

she’s reaching behind you to turn the shower off, ducking outside of the tiled space to grab your towel.

and she’s slow, meticulous as she dries you off, mouth watering when the cool air of the bathroom makes gooseflesh ripple over your smooth skin.

“you’re so fucking perfect,” ellie whispers, standing behind you in the mirror. “so fucking perfect and all mine.”

your eyelids are drooping shut as she discards the towel, hands wandering as her teeth sink into your neck.

“oh, fuuu—”

ellie’s jostling you back into your bedroom. when she’s about to push you back against the mattress, you’re spinning so that she’s falling against the unmade duvet, taking you with her.

and ellie’s gaze is glazing over when you spread her legs to reveal a pussy slick with need and a clit so swollen, it makes you salivate.

“what are you doing?” she whispers, fingertips denting the fat of your thighs.

“wanna ride you, els,” you whimper, climbing to straddle her heat. “wanna take care of you.”

one of her legs stretches to settle over your shoulder and you’re kissing her calf as your clits bump.

“fuck,” ellie chokes when you start rolling your hips. “fuck, wait, angel, just—”

the slip is delicious, obscene sound of your combined arousal echoing through the room to mingle with ellie’s throaty moans.

ellie’s used to watching you ride her strap, used to fucking you and giving you everything because it’s one of the things that makes her the happiest, but, fuck, she could get used to this.

“you gonna cream all over my pussy, ellie?” you whine, pace relentless as you ride her.

she lets out a breathy laugh.

“you feel how wet i am?” ellie gasps, thumb coming to nestle between your heat. the friction feels so fucking good against your clit, has you throwing your head back as you fuck her. “god, you’re fucking delusional if you think i’m not a hundred and ten percent obsessed with you.”

“oh fuck, ellie, your pussy feels s’good,” you whine, eyes watering when her other hand settles on your hip to guide you.

“does it, angel?” she moans breathily. “only you can get me like this.”

“you’re so wet, els,” you marvel. “your cunt’s so soft and so...so—”

“it’s all yours,” she whispers shakily, hips jerking because she’s close. “all yours, angel.”

and she’s crying out when you slip off of her, hands grabbing for you desperately.

she’s throwing her head back against your pillows when your lips latch onto her clit.

“oh, shit,” she moans. “wait, wait.”

but you don’t wait, in fact, your ministrations quicken, tongue lapping at the slick that gushes from ellie’s cunt.

“fuck, angel, i’m gonna—”

the broken moan that leaves ellie’s lithe body has you clenching your thighs. and you think she’s gonna cum, but her palm is firm against your forehead to push you away gently.

her eyes nearly roll to the back of her head when a string of spit webs from your chin to her clit.

“m’not cumming before you do,” she swallows. “this was supposed to be about you.”

“it is,” you assure her. “all i care about right now is making you cum.”

“jesus, you’re actually something else,” ellie sighs shakily, combing a tattooed hand through her damp locks.

you’re making a move to close in on her pussy again, but she’s pushing you onto your back, settling her achey cunt over your thigh as she circles both of your wrists in one hand.

“let me take care of you and you can do whatever you want with me for the rest of the night,” ellie promises, sloppy kiss turning into her licking into your mouth.

her fingers waste no time finding your folds, pads eager against your bud before dipping lower to tease at your entrance.

“how could you think i’d want any other pussy other than yours, angel?” she whispers against your mouth as she stuffs you knuckles deep. “this is all mine, you hear me? all fuckin’ mine.”

you nod, squirming against where she’s still got you confined with a bruising grip around your wrists.

“s’all yours, els,” you whimper.

“just like this pussy’s all yours,” she husks, hips rolling over the swell of your thigh. “would never fucking dream of giving myself to anyone but you.”

and god, ellie knows all the right things to say to have you winding tight.

you’re arching into her, jaw slack and eyes crossing as she hits that spot inside you that has you feeling fucking boneless.

“c’mon, angel,” she encourages you. “just once all over my fingers, then you can do whatever you want to me.”

the squelch has ellie’s thighs shaking as she rolls her hips, knuckles curling hard inside the warm heat of your needy pussy.

“don’t stop, els,” you beg her. “i’m gonna—”

she’s freeing your wrists, climbing from your thigh to settle on her knees at the end of the bed.

“wait, els, i’m gonna—”

and the moan that leaves you can be heard by the entire apartment block, no doubt, because ellie’s sucking your clit past her lips and eating you out like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do.

the shit she’s murmuring against your folds is filthy, has you trying to squeeze your knees together because ellie’s that good.

“ohfuckohfuckohfuck,” you cry out when she adds a third finger.

it’s all it takes because a few moments later, your back’s arching all the way off the bed, thighs vibrating as she continues to toy with you through your orgasm.

“that’s it, angel,” ellie whispers. “ride it out.”

your chest heaves through the final waves, a sheen of sweat making your dewy skin look like it’s glistening under the lowlight of your bedside lamp.

“you did so fuckin’ good for me,” ellie says gently, standing naked between your parted legs as your arm drapes over your eyes in embarrassment.

“stop hiding,” she scolds, climbing to straddle you.

her hands are wandering, smoothing over every available expanse of skin as you cover your face and shy away from her.

she’s shocked when she pries your arm away and finds tears welling in your eyes.

“babe,” she calls incredulously. “why are you—”

“we wouldn’t have been in this situation if i wasn’t so immature and just talked to you about it,” you hiccup.

ellie’s face is falling, pulling you up to wrap you in her arms.

“babe, stop,” she whines softly, rocking you as a shudder rips down your spine. “i should’ve said something and i definitely shouldn’t have acted the way i did earlier. if anything i was immature.”

“you’re such a good girlfriend, ellie,” you whimper. “and i’m...i’m sorry, i—”

“hey, hey,” she stops you firmly, peeling away from you to thumb at your chin. “don’t do that.”

and you feel like such a big fucking baby as ellie repositions the two of you so that she’s leaning against your headboard and she’s pulling you against her sweaty chest.

“i’m sorry, ellie,” you choke again.

“stop apologizing,” ellie croaks, and you realize that the emotions are welling inside of her as well. “none of this was your fault, angel. i should’ve been honest and just told you, but i was scared.”

you’re still hiccuping, ear pressed over her heart.

“you’re my first real girlfriend in a really long time, and it doesn’t help that you’re so grossly out of my league, and—”

“ellie,” you chide.

“i don’t wanna mess things up with you,” she admits softly. “especially after the way we started.”

“i’d never hold that against you,” you swallow.

“and that’s what makes it worse. i know you wouldn’t even if you should,” ellie whispers. “and then today, i saw you with someone else and it made me so fucking mad because the two of you look so good together. it made me feel like i don’t deserve you.”

“els.” and you’re crying harder now, arms winding so tight around her waist, she feels like she’ll burst.

“i’m sorry,” ellie says gently. “you’ve always been so fucking good to me and—”

you’re leaning up, kissing her to shut her up before she starts crying and she’s cradling your face like you’re the most fragile thing.

“i love you so fucking much, ellie,” you tell her between kisses. “let’s just...let’s just put this behind us, okay?”

she nods, pulls from your lips to nestle her face in your neck.

“i love you more, angel,” she murmurs against your skin. “you don’t even know.”

neng © 2023

[linorachas]

maknae line + unexpected kinks

tags: marking, choking, cockwarming, manhandling, public space, possessive behavior, afab reader for sm

this is for anon who requested a maknae line version of unexpected kinks!!! i mostly write smut for hyung line so this was pretty ballsy of me to write all of the maknaes in one go *__* hope it's readable pls do not throw tomatoes at me i am but a wee silly little writer

hyung line version | buy me coffee? (৹ᵒ̴̶̷᷄﹏ᵒ̴̶̷᷅৹)

HYUNJIN (marks)

Hyunjin hadn't thought he was this possessive.

But while he was fucking you into the mattress, he had accidentally left a bite mark on your shoulder as he lost himself to you and an orgasm. When he pulled back and saw you touch the mark with a dazed look on your face, the sight of it brought up something inside of him.

A deep, carnal need to see you covered in marks made by him and him alone. To see every hickey on your neck and know that it was from his lips. For everyone to know that only he could bruise you so prettily like this.

"Hyunjin," you gasp, "no- no more marks, People- they're gonna see-"

"So," Hyunjin growls against your neck. With his fingers tangled in your hair, he pulls your head back, giving him more space— more access to leave his mark on you. "So what if they see? Then they'll know to back off."

You squirm as Hyunjin's plush lips trail against your strained neck. You feel his hot breath first, then the sting of his teeth sinking into your skin before he sucks on it. It's one of the many, many marks he's left on your body today— from the inside of your thighs to your navel to your neck, but it still has you reeling like it's the first one.

He was going to make sure that he'll have you painted in his kisses, his marks, his bites, so that nobody will ever dare to put their hands in you.

Hyunjin was the painter, and you were his canvas.

JISUNG (being vocal)

"Thank god Hyunjin still had some condoms left.”

“Please don’t—“ you gasp noisily, scratching your nails down Jisung’s back when he shifts and his cock hits just right, “talk about Hyunjin when you’re— god, ah, fucking me.”

Jisung smirks, cocky and smug and annoying when he says, “Can’t multitask, can yo-“ but he’s cut off with his own moan when you squeeze your walls around him tight, making him double over.

“Fuck, babe, don’t do that.” Jisung hisses into your ear, hips slowing down to a stop as he composes himself. “What if I cum too early?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“That was one time—“

“And it will never be forgotten.” You smirk, slapping his ass and making him jolt. “Now move, cowboy.”

Jisung sighs exaggeratedly. “I miss the days when you were just starstruck by my cock and would only say I was good.”

You roll your eyes with a snort, locking your ankles behind Jisung’s back, urging him to keep going.

“Well maybe if you fucked me that good again, I might— ah!”

Jisung’s entire demeanor shifts when he grips the fleshy part of your thighs, and your legs lift as he finds an easier position to pound into you. Your back arches at the onslaught of pleasure, but the movement only serves to make his cock press against your sweet spot more precisely, making you keen.

Jisung moves his hands, sliding them up so he could grab onto your waist tight, bringing you back down harder onto his cock. You slap your own hand against your open mouth, attempting in vain to muffle your lewd sounds. It doesn't work.

Jisung watches with a heavy gaze as you make noise after noise, unable to stop yourself from moaning and squealing every time he pounds his cock into you. Every mewl you made was music to his ears, and he wants to hear more.

Your hands scramble to cover your mouth again. Jisung frowns.

“Wanna hear you,” Jisung complains with a pout, lips brushing against the back of your hand as he leans in close. He grabs your hand and pins your wrist to the bed, letting your sounds filter through the open bedroom.

“They’re gonna kill us—“ you manage to say in between groans, writhing as one of Jisung’s hand slides up to thumb one of your nipples. “They’re gonna hear and we’re going to get kicked out—“

“Let them hear." Jisung mutters, feeling his cock twitch at the thought. "Let them hear how good I'm fucking you. Let them hear you scream my name. Let them know I'm making you feel good."

Jisung grunts with each thrust, punching moans out of you. He chuckles then, and with a glint in his eye, holds your wrists above your head.

"Let me hear you fucking scream, Y/N."

FELIX (cockwarming)

When you slip inside Felix's room and sit by his feet, Felix had thought you just wanted some cuddles.

So even though he was in game, he takes a hand off the keyboard to run it through your hair and acknowledge your presence, letting his nails scratch against your scalp. You hum and lean into the touch, then rest your cheek on his lap.

"Keep playing." You had said. "I'm just bored."

And so he did. He kept playing, but his hand came down to stroke your head whenever a loading screen popped up. You were so quiet and so still under him that he almost believed your were asleep.

That is, until, you nuzzle against his crotch.

Felix jerks, and his character in the game dies. When he looks down, you're looking up at him with a sheepish smile.

"I'm bored," you repeat with a pout, and he immediately knows that whatever you say next, he can't say no to. "I just want it in my mouth, please? I'll stay still."

Felix frowns at that, confused. "You'll stay still?"

With a gleam in your eye, you say, "I'll show you," and you tug the waistband of his sweatpants down.

And fuck. He isn't even hard yet, but he's well on his way with how you hold him in your hand, guiding his dick inside your very own mouth. Your hot tongue slides against his shaft, and Felix all but shivers.

"Y/N-" he starts with a hiss, but you're already taking more and soon enough, you've got his whole cock down your throat. It's tight and wet and hot and Felix doesn't understand how he's going to stay still-

But then you're back to resting your head on his lap, cock still in your mouth. You looked like the very definition of sin, drool in the corners of your mouth and cheek bulging.

But your eyes, lidded and dazed, stare up at Felix lazily, like you had all the time in the world and you were going to spend it with Felix's cock in your mouth.

"You're-" Felix swallows. "You're going to stay? Like this? While I play games?"

You nod. It was a minuscule action, but it inched his cock further into the heated canal of your mouth. Felix's head sags back against his chair.

Fuck. He is so going to lose.

SEUNGMIN (keeping quiet)

"They're gonna catch us, Seungmin, fuck-"

"They will if you don't shut up." Seungmin grumbles before pulling you into a kiss. It's so hypnotizing that you don't notice his hand slide down to your shorts, easily undoing the button with one hand before his fingers slip inside your underwear.

The moan that you let out when his fingers brush against your clit is loud, and he bites your lip in reprimand.

"Sorry," you try to whine quietly, even though you were busy squirming at how fucking good it felt to have his fingers rub circles on your clit. "I- ah, ah, wait-"

Just as you let another moan out, noises are heard from outside the door. A beat later, and you can hear Changbin's loud voice and Jisung's laughter.

Your legs close on instinct, but Seungmin's hand between prevented you from closing them all the way. He tuts and pries it back open with his other hand.

You look up at him, eyes wide. "Are you insane? They're right outsi- fuuuck,"

You grit your teeth as Seungmin chooses at that moment to slip a finger inside, slide easy with how wet you are. In desperation to help yourself stay quiet, you grab the edge of your shirt and lift it up to your lips, biting it between your teeth in hopes that it would muffle your sounds.

Seungmin's eyes darken.

The action had exposed your upper body, and just the sight of you doing your best to keep quiet was making heat pool in Seungmin's belly. You even had your fingers pressing against your lips, face contorted, but your hips were bucking into his hand like you'd die if you ever stopped. Fuck. Seungmin was salivating.

You startle when he presses you harder against the wall, at the same time he slips more fingers inside of you. He watches you, shirt between your teeth, eyes wide and desperate, and his cock jumps in his pants.

"You're going to cum for me," he says, tone leaving no room for protest. "But if you make a single sound before you do, I'm leaving you here. Understood?"

You clench around his fingers, and nod.

JEONGIN (manhandling)

Jeongin knew he was strong.

No matter how much he said he hated working out, he still does it diligently, and it showed. However, he's never known to what extent his strength reached.

At least, not until he's got you pressed against the wall, cock so deep inside you that your legs were shaking.

You trembled with every thrust, toes white from how much force you were putting on your feet just to keep yourself up. Jeongin held on to you, of course, but you were fucked so stupid that your arms lost all mobility and were slipping off his shoulders.

Despite the struggle, you were still moaning in his ear, begging and pleading for more. To fuck you harder. To make you take it. So with a lust-addled mind, Jeongin found himself sliding his hands under your thighs, gripping the flesh tight before he easily and quickly hauled you up.

"Put me down-!" You gasp, eyes wide, legs locking around Jeongin's waist on instinct. "Yang Jeongin, are you cra- agh!"

But Jeongin couldn't stop now. There was something about you, helpless, nothing you could do but trust Jeongin to hold you up and just take his cock over and over and over again-

He was in so fucking deep. Your head thumped against the wall with every drive of his dick into you. When he leans in close, you can't do anything else but whimper and look up at him with glazed, teary eyes.

"You want more? I'll give you more." Jeongin whispers, hitching you higher up the wall. You let out a strangled gasp.

"Hold on tight, baby."

[urhoneycombwitch]

#17 from that prompt list about seeing the marks left on their partner and getting turned on has got me all kinds of 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 It feels roommate-eddie coded 👀 especially if they have their no-marks rule, but he just kinda loses control one night.

Then we torture him, walking around showing it off, telling him he can’t touch until he learns some self-control…okay, I’m gonna see myself out…

(most assuredly not @rebelfell sending two asks in a row)

foreword: Sarah I’m being so fr how are you literally in my brain… I had a blurb on this very topic set on the back burner bc I couldn’t find a place for it so here it is spruced up!!! (prompt 17 from this list)

cw: Reader has breasts, visible marks, no skin tone/color mentioned, a wee bit of choking kink, not full smut but mdni as always. oh yeah and biting 😈

___

You can feel the weight of Eddie’s eyes on your form, even as you pretend to be oblivious, leaning into the reflection of the standing mirror in the corner of his bedroom.

A few swipes of your pointer finger and your lipgloss is perfect; with a smack of your lips, you straighten up again, tugging the hem of your tee down to meet the band of your jeans. “Almost ready?”

The friendly smile you turn to give Eddie is met with a glower, his dark brows slanted, a death-grip on both knees where he sits simmering on his bed.

“Did you come in here solely to torture me, or do you have other plans up your vixen sleeves?”

Briefly, your eyes flick to the ceiling as you turn back to your reflection, fussing with your hair to keep your hands busy. “Only plan I got is attending our beloved friend’s barbecue. Which we should’ve left for, like, five minutes ago.”

Eddie huffs. In response, you sigh, landing just-left of condescending. “Not my fault you want to fuck me regardless of what I’m wearing. It’s jeans and a t-shirt, Eddie, I’m basically fit for a nunnery-”

There’s a whoosh of spiced air that wafts over first, chills cascading down your spine made worse as Eddie moves in. His left hand lands on your hip, rooting you to the carpet, while the other tracks up, skirting between the valley of your clothed breasts, your collarbone, your neck…

He takes your chin between thumb and forefinger, silver rings biting cold against your skin as your neck goes lax, baring a long, tantalizing stretch of it as Eddie tilts your face up and to the side.

His lips press to the sweet spot behind your ear, then follows the slope of your neck down, stopping at your shirt’s collar that hides the rest of your skin. From your hip, his hand lifts to pull the fabric aside, revealing a scattered canvas of suck marks and teeth imprints that grace the top of your shoulder.

“You really gonna show up with these? Make all our friends wonder who’s been marking you up?”

Eddie’s voice is low, but you’d be a fool to mistake it for softness.

Another shiver licks along the length of your body, and this time Eddie feels it; he presses in closer, hand sliding from your chin to hold just under your jaw as he meets your fluttering eyes in the mirror.

“What’re you gonna say, hm? If Robin asks where they came from? If Steve makes a jock-y comment? If you get teased?”

It’s not like you haven’t been in this situation before- attending events with mutual friends, having to act like your roommate hasn’t been the one checking all your boxes, making up excuses for being late or looking like someone had been using your body as their personal chew toy.

You’ve always made excuses- pretty seamless ones, if anyone’s counting. You don’t even try to squirm away when you respond, swallowing around the light pressure at your throat- “I’ll tell them what I always do. Blind date hookup, one night stand, my dentist’s cousin’s friend that I’ll never see again-”

Eddie bites into the soft flesh of your upper shoulder, hard, free arm wrapping around your midsection like a seatbelt while his other elbow digs into your chest, hand still wrapped around the column of your throat.

The air leaves your lungs in a rush, white-hot adrenaline surging with the sting of the bite, body stiffening against the restraints of Eddie’s arms as you grit out, “Asshole!”

It sounds too whiny and pleasure-soaked to cause any real alarm, Eddie grinning into the curve of your skin (bastard) before tsking, kissing over the thumping mark in partial apology. “Mm. I think you like it. I think you get off on parading our little secret around the poor folks who don’t know any better-”

“As if you don’t.” Eddie may be the one doing most of the biting but you’ve got the bark to match, glaring furiously at the reflection of his maddeningly-cool black-caramel gaze, even as the pressure on your windpipe increases with a minute flex of his palm.

“Yeah. Y’got me there, princess.” His eyes flit across your exposed skin, like he’s trying to memorize all the shades and colors of you combined with the wreckage of his handiwork. “Maybe you should cover up some more. So it’s just you ‘n me who knows what’s under here.”

The cotton collar snaps back into place, covering almost all the evidence (save for the tail end of a day-old scraped hickey). Eddie releases your jaw and takes a step back, the warmth leaving your body all at once, frozen where you stand until sense returns.

You clear your throat before speaking, irritation prickling as you set to fixing your hair again from where Eddie’s interruption had stalled. “Whatever. Fine. But I’m only changing because it’s gonna be cold later, and a long sleeve will be better- not because you told me to.”

“Fine.” Eddie adopts a neutral tone as he settles back onto the mattress with a bounce, tugging absently at the inseam of his dark jeans to relieve some of the mounting tightness. “Have it your way.”

“I will,” you snap back, turning from the mirror on a socked heel, pointing an accusatory finger at the boy on the bed. “And you better have your boots on by the time I’m changed.”

With that, you flounce from Eddie’s room in search of a more conservative neckline, while Eddie pouts and pretends to have the will to disobey you for all of five seconds.

And then he’s up, trudging to the bureau reluctantly to source a pair of socks while scheming for the perfect excuse to take you both on the extra-long route to the barbecue.

[brailsthesmolgurl]

WARDROBE MALFUNCTION!

A smol bird requested for this to be written and so here I am, playing fairy godmother! If any of you have any sort of requests, just drop me a dm as I am revived from my death and ready to write more delulus as your solulus!

Context: What happens when your outfit decides NOT to cooperate with you? What will the boys do for you?

Disclaimer: This one-shot is created with me studying their lore on various websites and social media so that I could get a better idea on what colours they like/represent and what style they lean towards. Some of you may disagree but its okay! You can read it as it is and add in your own imagery of a suitable outfit by your hubbies! Warnings: Fluff that might rot your brains.

RAFAYEL

"I am almost done with this piece," Rafayel spoke, eyes still glued to his canvas, one hand holding up his messily stained colour palette, while the other held the brush as he drew strokes across the canvas. "Why don't you go and get changed as you wait for me to finish off this bit, yeah?"

"Yes sir." You quirkily replied and you stood up, spotting him sending you a teasing look given the way you addressed him. Earlier on, some strangers had came by Rafayel's mansion with Thomas to deliver some clothes. Apparently, these clothes are custom made by those luxurious brands specifically for Rafayel. Thomas addressed it as this was one of the ways the luxury brands show their support towards Rafayel's works. ONE OF THE WAYS... At this point, you are convinced that Rafayel is a huge deal and having luxurious brands begging on their knees to work with him sounded like a dream that would never come true to you.

The dress that sat on the bed was delivered for you as well, as per Rafayel's request. There was objection amongst the team that were handling the sponsorship and ambassador deals for the brand. But Rafayel spoke through the phone like he owns the company. "If she does not get a gown, then our business ends. Right now." He hung up abruptly, and the next thing he knew, the dress showed up at his door in less than 30 minutes.

Any brands, regardless luxurious or not, knows the right way and only way to please Rafayel. One wrong move and you are off the chart and some other brand may easily replace you. Hence, nobody dares to mess with Rafayel. Except for you. "The dress on the bed is yours!" He shouted from the living room and you picked up the dress.

The chiffon textured dress is of a forest green colour, going all the way down to your ankles. The strapless design made you gulped as you are not used to outfits of this measure, given the nature of your work, whereas your attire has to be 'appropriate for work in times of need'. Touching the inner material, you sighed in relief as you realised that there was bra padding for you hence you do not have to go all the way out to get a new bra just for this event.

Putting on the dress and zipping it up was easy, and you fit almost perfectly into the dress. The keyword being ALMOST. As you lifted your hands up, the dress started sliding down like it is a floatie on a wet water slide and woop, off it went and onto the ground. You panicked, bending down in one fell swoop and trying to gather the dress so that you can pull it up to your chest again.

But it does not let you go past the waist area unless you unzip it. Groaning, you struggled to find the zip as the dress is really puffy and you did not want to ruin the designer dress. "Is everything okay?" Rafayel stood at the doorway, leaning against the side of his door, as he watched you with amusement written all over his face. He has been standing there for quite a while hasn't he?

You gasped, pulling whatever that is on the floor to cover your chest area and he walked over, analysing the dress and scowling when he found out the reason. "I should have gotten them to measure you instead of just bringing you a standard fit." He took his phone out of his pocket and tapped on the screen a couple of times. His eyes looked back at you and you bit your lip in embarassment. "Your curves are way too beautiful to be hidden amongst this pile of leaves."

His comment made you giggled. Guess he has the same thought as you. "Toss the dress aside darling, I will get you a new one." Another few taps of the finger, he shows you the dress he has in mind. A purple dress with extravagant sleeves, puffing out like how a jellyfish would and you instantaneously knew why he opted for this dress. "I like purple better anyways."

"But wait Rafayel... this dress is not entirely scrap, maybe I can sew a temporary knot on it to tighten the top so it won't fall off. And there is really no need for you to get another custom one for me as we are running out of time." Your suggestion made him stare at you, purple-blue pupils blown wide as if he has really just witnessed a shark eating grass. iykyk.

He walked over and grabbed you by your waist and pulled you close to him, so close that you could hear the sound of his heart against yours. But at this moment, maybe he could hear yours louder than his. "Nobody can put a price on your love for me. EVER. But, I can sure as hell throw out any price on anyone, regardless the amount, as a representation of how much you worth to me." You looked away immediately, eyes stared at the arms that were holding you in place. He kissed your forehead, chuckling, before he pressed his phone against his ear. "Now, let's see who can make this dress for the price I am willing to pay in 30 minutes time." he makes me feel something

ZAYNE

You waited on a bench in front of Akso Hospital. You figured it would be a great idea to wait for Zayne as he finishes work early today and you might be able to grab dinner with him. You were mindlessly scrolling through your phone, looking through your daily for-you-page before a shadow loomed over you. You looked up and no doubt, it is Zayne aka the great and almightly Elsa.

"How long have you been sitting here?" He asked you, before handing you a candy that he had fished out from the pocket of his trench coat. "I was planning to meet you slightly later at your condo." The thought of him initially wanting to surprise you made your heart fluttered. You see, Zayne is a more upfront guy so having him to plan surprises are one of the uncalled scenarios.

"I had only been here for a couple of minutes." You lied, taking the candy out of his palm and unwrapped it before you tossed it into your mouth. The raise of his eyebrow towards you made your breath hitched as he knew you too well that you could not lie to him in his face. "Fine, I had waited here since 5pm." This made Zayne looked down at his wrist watch.

"So it's been an hour and 15 minutes?" He side eyed you and you admitted it by nodding your head. "Next time, it would be better if you were to just wait for me at home. If it wasn't for a full deck today at the hospital, I might just be covering shifts for other people and that might be inconvenient for you." But, he himself actually noticed you exactly an hour and 15 minutes, from his office's window, before his upcoming surgery. He had another three surgeries lined up for the night, but fearing that you may end up waiting the whole night for him, he decided to cancel his schedule for the night and transfer the case to other doctors. Even workaholics take a break. iykyk

"But I just wanted to come over to check up on you. I even chose to sit outside so that you would not be distracted as you are working." You pouted, hands picking at the hem of your shirt. You felt Zayne's hand landed on the top of your head, a gesture of love and comfort. He patted and smoothed your brunette strands back and you stared up at him. "I shall wait for you at home next time okay?"

"Now that's a good girl." killmeplease Zayne smiled warmly. "Now, lets get you back alright? My car is parked right by the road side. Come on." Hands around your waist, he slowly walked you over to his car. The smell of his cologne lingered on your nose, the smell of mint and dashes of cinnamon. Just like his personality, icy as mint but warm and welcoming as cinnamon once you get to know him.

He opened the car door for you and as you walked over to get into the car, your shirt got hooked against one of the metal wires that went astray from the metal fencing and the next thing you heard was the sound of a ripping cloth. You yelped as you stumbled and Zayne slotted himself right in front of you, shocked as well and using his body to block you from falling further. "Oh my..." Your cursed under your breath as your hands were against his washboard abs, steadying yourself. doublekill

He guided you into the car slowly before getting into the driver side himself. When he had started the car and turned on the air conditioning, he turned to look at you. "How bad is the rip?" He asked and you lifted the hem of your shirt, showing the rip that is around 4cm long.

"Why does this have to happen to one of my favourite shirt?" You frowned, fingers won't stop touching and fidgeting with the ripped edge.

"Do they still sell this shirt?" Zayne asked, hands reaching over to tug against the shirt, as if to examine the material of the outfit. The shake of your head made him sigh and he gestured to the glovebox. "Open the glovebox and take out the black pouch please."

You did as you were told and you watched in confusion as he took off his trench coat and placed it onto your lap. The coat still radiating warmth that was collected off of his body heat. He opened the black pouch and laid it flat on the arm rest of his car, and inside of the pouch was an array of threads and needles. "Are these suture needles?"

"Yes." His response was prompt. "Take off your shirt and hand it to me please." He requested and you gulped. Using the trench coat to block his view, you slowly took off your shirt and then wrapped his trench coat around your whole front. You knew that he had probably seen many naked bodies given his line of work but something about this scenario, with you being with him only in a car, felt very intimate and it made you very anxious. "You know how to sew?"

"I am a doctor, I know how to suture. And it is the same concept as sewing, but only with different kinds of needles and threads." He then started sewing, his concentration a trait you find admirable. It did not took him long when he finished sewing your shirt and he handed it back to you, the thread sewed on has gaps of equal length and was tied off neatly. As expected of one of the top doctors from Akso Hospital. As he started driving, he added. "Although I had managed to sew the shirt for you, I believe with my connections, I would be just as capable to find you the same shirt. Then, you would never have to complain about this being your only favourite shirt."

XAVIER

You were going about your day in your own house before you heard your doorbell ringing. You placed your bowl of cereal down and took a glance on the clock on your phone. Who dares to threaten your peaceful weekend? You went over to the door and you opened it to reveal your blond hair lover. "Xavier?" You asked, eyebrows furrowed when he smiled at you.

"Good morning, I see someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed." He teased and stepped in, holding out a parcel for your. "I believe this belongs to you?" The small rip at the top side of your parcel indicated that he probably took a peek on what's inside. Acknowledging the parcel, you took it off of his hands and you blushed, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind your ear.

"Good morning to you too. I guess I might have accidentally wrote your level instead of mine." You bit your bottom lip and you heard him chuckle in return. "But thanks for coming down to deliver this to me when you could have just asked me to get it from you." "But I wanted to see you personally. And seeing the clothes that are in the parcel, I thought I could get to watch you try them on too." His blunt answer made you stare at him like a mad man. His blue eyes however, glinted with nothing but honesty. This guy may be mysterious but he sure is straightforward in stating what he has on his mind. He probably noticed the way you reacted and he took a step back, retracing his words and slightly coughing to ease the awkwardness. "I mean, I would like to see you trying out these new outfits that you had gotten for yourself. It would be a good past time for me."

You chuckled at how goofy this guy is and gestured towards him to go and sit at the couch. You went into the room to get yourself changed and it was as if today is your fashion show day. You strutted out in different outfits, layered against one another and watched the way Xavier would react to you, either fascinated, or straight down confused. There was even this one time, he would just have a blank expression where you wore an oversized shirt under your tshirt. Clothing trends on the streets nowadays baffles him and he wondered if he was the one that was left out from the fashion ring.

Your last outfit featured you in a semi see through tank top and a pair of cargo pants. Not to mention, the tank top seemed to be too small for you as the way the blond boy sees it, it was holding onto your figure for dear life and barely leaving anything more to one's imagination. And the thought itself ticked him off. When you looked over towards Xavier, he does not look surprised nor confused, but rather bland. "What do you think?" Your tone came off to be amused and you did a twirl in front of him before you took a seat right next to him.

Xavier anxiously gulped and looked away from you, his voice low as he muttered. "I don't think this outfit looks nice on you, girlfriend." The way he shifted in his seat made you cornered him against the couch even more, wanting a better explanation. "The top you are wearing. I don't like it."

"And why so?" You asked, looking down at your top and adjusting it. "This is the trend nowadays, they call it the Y2K trend I think. And this tank top was on sale, so I just got it."

"I can buy you some other clothes. Even the ones that are not going to be on sale." He retorted, eyeing the tank top you were wearing with an underlying anger. "I just don't think I would like to see you wearing this in public. It is too revealing, and I guess tight on your body."

His answer painted your cheeks red and you gasped. What were you thinking? Of course you had forgotten about his possesive nature. He does not show it much and having such a pretty boy face like him further disconnects the word 'possessive' from his character. He reached into his hoodie's front pocket and pulled out his phone, opening up an app and handed the phone to you. When you refused to take it, he lifted his torso off of the couch to 'force' you to take his phone. Just like how you had previously pressed your body against him, this is his turn to take his small and sweet revenge. You panicked as he closed the gap between you two and within the next minute, he was pressed against you, one of his hand at the side of your head and another still holding his phone up to you, his gaze intense. "Just choose whatever you want from my phone, my card information is all in there. And perhaps before you check out, you can let me double check on the outfits you are getting." He low-key demanded before he explained himself for such a decision. "I just don't like nor want people staring wrongfully at what I treasure the most."

Another fluff for another day. I already did my best in having to think of different wardrobe malfunctions as I did not want one theme of wardrobe malfunction to be stagnant across the whole story for all three of the boys. SO I hope you would understand my lovelies. :,) I am very very free so I will be posting more regularly for these few weeks. SO please do show me more love and support as that would aid me in my motivation in writing!

Do check out my other works as well!

HOW WOULD THE BOYS REACT TO YOU FORGETTING ABOUT YOUR DATE?

DAMNATION

Hope your Delulu is satisfied my lovelies <3

[melanieph321]

bae please write something for one of the barca boys😩

🫡

Pedri/Fermin x Reader - Nude

Who's more artistic, Pedri or Fermin? 💅

Pedri and Fermin are tricked to take an art class by some of the Barca boys. Things get a little heated as the two of them are expected to portray a nude model, the nude model being you.

Enjoy!

"I can't believe we're doing this?" Said Fermin.

"We?" Pedri pushed open the door to the arts department. They had struggled with directions on campus and were most likely running late for the class. "Look around, Fermin. It's your big mouth that keeps getting us into shit like this. If you and Cancelo would just stop betting your well-earned salaries, we could be having a day off for once. Instead, we're in The University of Barcelona, fulfilling silly side quests such as this one."

"Okay, okay, Gonzalez. I get it, I messed up....again. But let's see the positive in this."

"Which is?"

They paused on the top of a stairscase. People were passing them by, students, turning their heads at the sight of them.

"Our parents would be proud to finally see us attending university."

Pedri rolled his eyes and shoved Fermin for him to keep walking.

The boys eventually found the right classroom and stumbled through the door in chaotic fashion. Students, seated before large canvasas, shifted their heads.

Pedri and Fermin looked at each other hesitantly. "Erm...Buenos días?"

"You made it!" A woman stood from behind a canvas, approching them where they stood awkwardly by the door. "Señores! You must be Pedri, and you must be Fermin." She shook their hands vividly. A surprisingly strong grip "I'm Martina Ramirez, the teacher of this class. My husband and children are big fans of Barça. Matter of fact, they still don't believe that the two of you are participating in my class today."

"This is it?" Fermin frowned, which earned him a slap in the back of the head from Pedri.

"Puta! Why did you do that for?"

"Yes, yes, of course." She directed them towards the circle of students, sitting them down before their blank canvasas.

Pedri ignored his friend, smiling at the woman. "Thank you for having us today Señorita Ramirez. Should we take our seats?"

Fermin looked to Pedri, shaking his head in disbelief. However, as the class began, the boys found themselves surprisingly engaged. Señorita Ramirez was a great teacher, and she made the class fun and interactive. They started with drawing, and before long, Pedri was actually creating some pretty impressive sketches. Fermin, on the other hand, struggled a bit more, but he found joy in experimenting with different colors and textures. That is, until you stepped into the room.

You were late, slowed down by the unexpected rain. Luckily, your clothes were meant to come off anyway. You entered the dimly lit classroom unnoticed so as not to disturb the students, deeply immersed in their work. But of course, Señorita Ramirez spotted you and waved for you to take your place in the middle of the circle.

"Señoras y señores, our object has arrived."

Like clock work the students flipped the pages of their sketchbooks, none of them bothering to give you a second glance, none of them expect for two boys who seemed a bit lost at what the other students were doing.

"Yes, boys, just like that." Señorita Ramirez encouraged. "Flipp your pages. It's time for a new drawing."

They did what they were told. Meanwhile, you took your place in the circle, untying the ropes of your bathrobe, the fabric sliding down your naked shoulders.

"Joder!" Someone gasped. One of the lost boys. His eyes were wide, staring at you like a maniac on ecstasy.

"Now Señor Lopez...." Señorita Ramirez approched him, pointing to his blank canvas. "Paint what you see, honey. Paint what you see."

He swollowed nervously but managed to diverge his eyes back to the canvas. Beside him his friend was already getting busy with his paint brush, a slight blossom to his cheeks.

"You holler when you need a break cariño."

"Yes, señorita Ramirez."

You usually lasted the whole class without a break. However, you could feel drops of water from your wet hair running down the length of your naked back, which could be a problem for later. But right now, your main focus was to pose for the students, two of those students who looked awfully familiar to you, but from where, you had no idea.

At one point, you tilted your head to get a better look at the other. The one with the dark hair and blushing cheeks. However, some students would hiss at you, urging for you to stand still. You did this repeatedly, curiously regarding the new boy who kept his eyes on his canvas, refusing to throw glance your way. His friend on the other hand, grinned at you like a kid in a candy store. He seemed more fascinated by your nakedness than Jack did Rose in that Titanic movie.

"There, times up!" Señorita Ramirez announced.

"What, already?" Fermin sighed.

Pedri, on the other hand, stood, swiftly grabbing his coat.

"Boys..."

"Puta." He hissed, seeing as Señorita Ramirez made her way over to them.

"I hope you enjoyed attending this class as much as I liked having you here?"

"Oh, I enjoyed myself for sure." Fermin said, slapping the canvasas tucked underneath his arm. "Trust me, this one is going up on my wall at home."

Pedri wanted to slap his friend again. But just then you were seen walking up to his canvas, clutching your bathrobe around your body. You were regarding Pedri's painting, making him even more nervous.

"Excuse me?" He said, pushing pass Fermin and Señorita Ramirez. He pushed passed them and lunged for his canvas, pulling it away, out of your site. "I'm sorry, but it's not finished." He muttered.

"I can see that." You giggled. "A good start though."

Pedri looked up, meeting your eyes. "You think so?"

"I mean you only drew my face, but I guess that's the best part of me, no?"

"Yes, yes it is...."

You frowned.

"No!" He blurred out. "Not only your face looks good. All of you looks good. I just wish that I had more time to finish it."

You smiled. "Well, there's always sametime next week."

Pedri nodded, however did not raise his head to meet your eyes again. "Yeah, maybe next week..."

"Great, I'll see you then." You offered him your hand, which he shook almost immediately.

"Pedri, Pedri Gonzalez."

"Nice to meet you Pedri, my name is Y/N."

"Y/N." He said it almost dreamingly.

"....And my name is Fermin, Fermin Lopez, if you please." His friend disrupted the moment. Pedri looked to want to kill him. Nevertheless, the boys left shortly after that, never to be seen again. That is, until you turned on the TV that following night.

[slvttyplum]

༘⋆✿ can’t be in one room with you and stand on different sides. | choso | inspired by bryson tiller- finesse.

The sounds of shoes clicking on the floor and chattering, you looked across the room and saw Choso looking directly at you.

You grin and he grins back, the both of you have been doing this all night.

You’ll go to look at him, but you’ll see he’s already staring and the both of you smile at each other.

It was hell.

You wanted to be with him, explore the art together; debut his new piece together, but you didn’t want to ruin his career… him.

Deciding not to ruin anything, you opt out when he suggests the two of you go together. So there you are, getting small glances of him any chance you get.

“You know him?” a voice asks on the side of you. Quickly turning your head, stood an old lady with a pink sweater.

“Ah… no no, I know of him though.” You say smiling. She was cute.

“That’s my daughter's favorite artists, she talks about him all the time.” She says, tapping her cane and turning towards you.

You smile to yourself at the thought of him being someone’s favorite. It made your heart flutter.

He’s been wanting this for a long time, his pieces to connect to some, speak to them, make them feel something.

“That’s so sweet. He has nice pieces.” You say, looking down at her shirt, when you get a glimpse of it your heart beats out your chest.

It was his crotchet piece he sold over three years ago. A big cheesy smile plasters on your face.

“Where’d you get this?” you say, your voice croaking with excitement. The older woman looks at you smiling, sliding her hand over the material.

“It’s my granddaughters. She gave it to me because she said it complimented my face.” her hand swooping under her chin, making a face.

You laugh, eyeing the sweater. You feel eyes staring at the side of you; you turn your head and there’s cholo staring at you again.

It was killing him. He wanted you to touch you, have people walk up to the both of you, asking about your relationship.

But he was happy.

He loved the way you would smile with that cheeky smile of yours whenever you caught him smiling.

He loved the way you lift your hand up no higher than your waist, waving and giving him a wave and thumbs up.

He loved the way you admired his work in awe, complimenting every paintbrush stroke on the canvas.

He loved the way he loved you.

Your eyes flicker when you see him walking towards the both of you. You turn your head back to the older woman who’s still looking at you, adjusting her glasses.

“That’s the artist that made your sweater. You should speak with him.” You say, your voice croaking again.

She smiles at you, putting her hand on your arm, squeezing it in comfort. “You should be the one to talk to him, hun.”

You tilt your head with narrow eyes, letting out an awkward chuckle, “sorry?”

She laughs, rubbing her thumb over your arm in small circles. “he’s been staring at you all night. You two will have more to talk about than me.”

She takes her hand off your arm, giving you a wink and walking away. You hold out your arm about to stop her, but a voice stops you.

“Excuse me, I’ve been looking at you from afar and couldn’t take my eyes off of you,” choso says, his hands in both his pockets.

The ends of your mouth curl up into a smile and you turn around. “is that right? And you are?”

He smiles when your eyes meet his, his cheeks flushing and his eyes lighting up. “I’m choso. the artist for this exhibition.”

He holds out his hand for you to shake; you laugh, walking towards him, wrapping your arms around his waist, squeezing him.

He’s taken aback but quickly hugs back, his warm embrace and his comforting scent making you smile.

You don’t know what you were holding out on. You love him way too much to pretend not to be with him, let alone pretend not to know him.

“I’m so proud of you,” you say, muffled into his chest. His cheeks flush more and his hand balls the fabric of your shirt, fighting off tears.

“I love you… y/n.” the fight didn’t last long, and a couple of tears falling out his eyes.

“I love you.” You reply snuggling into him. The both of you probably look like idiots, but you didn’t care.

You pull back and choso is smiling at you; he holds your waist, turning towards the crowd of people.

“This is my partner!” he yells out, the people walking around laughing and a couple of people laughing.

You spot a familiar face in the crowd, the older woman. She looks at you winking, and you hold up a thumbs up.

Thank you.

[hellsslibrary]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾The best canvas is a canvas that is as beautiful as the upcoming painting.　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

DNI: Minors(You will be blocked, kittens).

!! Warnings: soft sex, praise, painting on Albedo's body (just words of praise, not mentioned), aftercare, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, oral, anal sex and fingering (Albedo takes), humiliation at the end and a hint of sex after work.

The soft sound of heels echoed down the corridor. The man's footsteps were heading straight to the office of his beloved alchemist. He is probably busy right now and is creating some kind of experiment in order to later give some wonderful discovery that will amaze the hearts and souls of many people, revealing to them the light on a small truth.

You sigh when you realize that he is probably working again, completely forgetting about rest. Well, of course you know he's a doll. But the fact that he still needs rest for his physical and especially moral condition does not change. He still needs to rest.

A slight smile appears on your face when you imagine how you will again persuade him to take his mind off work. His blue eyes, like the blue waves of the ocean, will be focused on his project. His voice, as always, will be flawless and clear, unless, of course, you deign not to tease the young alchemist. His elegant hands will sort through the bottles or write something down in his documents or notes, or maybe he will draw something insanely beautiful, as always.

You stop in front of a massive door made of dark oak. You knock softly twice, and then open the door, revealing a dark, almost black, room. You walk in, closing the door, and head to the only place, the corner where the light is on. He turns away from his canvas and looks at the unexpected guest. A slight smile blooms on his lips, which causes butterflies in your stomach.

"Hello, my love." - you raise the hand that holds the brush to your lips and briefly kiss it. - "How are you doing?"

He chuckles a little, but says:

"Everything is fine." - he corrects his bangs, trying not to stain it with paint. - "What brings you here?"

You lift his little body in your arms for just a few seconds, but it causes him a pleasant blush spreading over his face. You sit on the chair he was sitting on, putting him on your lap. He blinks a few times, trying to realize what happened, but then he snuggles up to you, leaning back against your chest.

"I wanted to see my handsome boyfriend, can't I?" - you playfully ask, looking at the canvas, and trying to understand what exactly he was trying to draw.

"Of course you can, I'm just surprised, you usually come a little later." - he leans against your chest, inhaling your scent, which he has already missed since morning.

Soles and almost imperceptible lines forming something are drawn on the canvas. Something distinctly human-like. This man is sitting on some kind of chair, one leg bent under him, straight like some kind of king.

"Who's that, baby?" - you ask.

"It's you. It was supposed to be a surprise, but since you saw it, I don't mind." - he whispers, lifting his head from his chest, and taking your cheeks in his hands.

He presses his warm, soft lips to your light kiss, immediately pulling away and just looking at you. You take him by the hips, pulling him closer, pressing against his lips with painful force. He groans in surprise, but a second later his hands are already around your neck.

Your lips slowly and lovingly slide against each other. Where are you in a hurry? You have time and you want to use this time to show each other how much you both appreciate and love each other.

You gently bite his lips, asking him to enter, to which he gladly agrees. Your tongue slides over his, and then they wrap around. He moans and then jerks his hips slightly to get closer to you. You grin, pressing his hips to yours and he whines from your action, twitching closer to your torso.

"Hush, hush, baby, you have to be more patient, okay?" - he nods, moving away from your crotch. - "Good boy. And now... Lie down on the table behind."

He gets off your lap, lying down on the surface of the table. "Undress," he hears, and immediately begins to take off his clothes layer by layer, so unnecessary now. But he leaves his beautiful stockings, which he knows you love perfectly.

He looks at you and sighs languidly, watching how slowly you undress. The sight of your naked torso gives him goosebumps. He really wants to sit down at the canvas again and finish his drawing, but by drawing you naked, although he had a completely different concept initially. His gaze slides lower as you take off your pants and then your underwear, exposing your semi-hard cock. He licks his lips and unconsciously spreads his legs even more than he originally wanted, already imagining how it will feel in him.

You giggle when you see it and get closer to him. Your hand grabs his thigh, and with the other you take the brush that he put here earlier.

"Do you mind if I write something on you?" - you ask, gently stroking his knee, which makes him twitch slightly from tickling.

"Of course. I'm all yours, [Your name], I'm all yours." - he whispers, lying down more comfortably and relaxed to give you better access.

A quiet "thank you" escapes from your lips when you swipe a brush dipped in black paint over his abs, starting to draw some cute words that make him blush and occasionally giggle at your game.

He whines when you reach his pubis, finishing writing the last word and putting a period in honor of it. Your hand slides to his desk drawer, rummaging there for lube. He slides awkwardly across the table, trying to get out of the grip of your hands and not fall off the table at the same time. He reaches for the second drawer, clumsily opening it and climbs a little further, stretching his back, taking out a bottle of lubricant, handing it to you, quickly slamming the drawer and lying back down.

You chuckle when you see an awkward smile on his face and pull him closer to you, making his ass almost hang off the table. You open the bottle, squeezing a generous amount of lubricant onto your fingers, and then start warming it in your hands so that he feels comfortable. After a few seconds, one of your fingers circles the rim of his muscles, causing him to whine and shrink around nothing. You just giggle, sinking lower, and lick his cock. He pushes awkwardly, but you hold his hips with your other hand, pinning him to the table.

"I'd rather you didn't move, okay, Bedo?" he nods, covering his red face with his hands as you start sucking the head of his cock.

[Your name] skipped their usual teasing, deciding not to spoil the moment, and instead went straight to his treasure, deciding to enjoy it to the fullest, and wrapped a gentle hand around the base. But before he moved on, Albedo slightly pulled the strands on his boyfriend's head and was immediately rewarded with a sweet kiss on the head to make the blonde whine slightly, lips and tongue soon danced wonderfully until you pressed a thick vein along his base, forcing him to throw his head back in bliss and let out a groan of satisfaction. Leaving the last loving touch to the tip of his penis, [Your name] swallowed its entire length up to the fist, and then further, as soon as his throat relaxed.

Bliss. This is probably the only word that was spinning in the alchemist's head. The feeling of your lips, tongue, your warm throat, and sometimes your very light bites were just blissful for him. He might have thought that God was in front of him, who had come to give him the best pleasure that he had ever received in his life.

Fluttering waves of heat sweep through Albedo's body, reaching all the way to the tips of his toes and back to the top of his head, causing his hair to stand on end. And [Your name] kept moving, swallowing deeper and deeper, until the Chief Alchemist forgot about the existence of anything else but you, when finally a pair of plump lips pressed against the skin of the man's base, and the tonsils caressed and squeezed the tip of his dick. Albedo's sighing moan was exquisite and the sweetest sound you could ever hear.

Your finger finally collided into him when you took his cock to the end. His hand immediately falls on your hair and squeezes it, causing you to choke slightly from surprise. A quiet "I'm sorry" escapes from his lips along with the moans and sobs of your name, while you continue to excite him from both sides.

He feels the movements of your finger in it, it slides so easily from the lubricant, touching all his sensitive points. He arches his back when he feels the second finger, and then the third. Your thrusts into him and onto his penis are increasing. If earlier he could control his sounds, now he clearly can't, and who among you would really like to do this?

He shudders, goosebumps run through his body, and butterflies begin to flutter in his stomach when he feels your touch on his prostate. He feels a familiar knot begin to appear in his stomach, which is about to explode.

"I am... I—Hmm..! I'm going to, ah, to-cum—!" - he shouts, squeezing your hair harder, but not pressing on your head.

You take your hand off his hips, allowing him to take advantage of the situation for a few seconds and cum with pleasure.

He ends up with a loud moan, arching his back and pressing you as hard as possible to himself. He fucks your face for a few seconds and lightly sits on your fingers, trying to survive his orgasm.

When he lets you go, you pull away, and a quiet laugh breaks from his lips when he sees that you swallowed his sperm.

"Don't laugh, honey." - you kiss his forehead, lifting one of his thighs. - "Do you want it dry or not?"

"Dry, p-please." - he whispers, putting his arm around your shoulders.

You just shrug your shoulders and put your other hand on his stomach, stroking the inscriptions that you did. The hand that was on your hip goes down to your penis, takes it and directs it to the blonde's ass. You look up at him, he nods, and then throws his head back, feeling you enter him with one push.

"Move, move, please!" - desperately, and almost screaming, he begs.

"So right away? How desperate." - you laugh, but you start gently pushing into him, enjoying his soft moans.

He looks like a hero who descended from a painting that was painted by the brush of a famous artist who is fond of eroticism, of course. His blue eyes, in the corners of which there were tears threatening to spill at any second. His red cheeks, even more red than usual, beckoned to bite them. His open mouth that was emitting all his beautiful sounds. And his lips, slightly swollen from kisses, which he occasionally bit so as not to moan too loudly.

"Bedo?" - he's looking at you. "You're so handsome now, you know? I would have devoured you completely."

You feel the hands on your back squeeze a little harder with your praise-teasing.

"Oh, that's not true... Mghm! You look just amazing, my love too." - he pulls you to him in a quick kiss. - "I wish you'd keep your words."

You raise an eyebrow in disbelief, but then you laugh:

"Don't worry, I'll eat you completely."

He laughs, but at the same second he moans, feeling how you are pushing into his prostate for the hundredth time in these minutes.

"I seem to be back... " - he sighs. - "I'll cum, please... I'm going to cum..."

"Come on, baby, cum on my dick whenever you want. " - you chuckle, pushing his interfering bangs aside. - "Show me that cute face you make when you cum from my cock inside you."

He nods, choking for a second from your particularly sharp thrust. And after a few seconds, he finishes again, staining his written torso with sperm, which merged with some ink that had not dried yet.

Albedo licks his lips, pressing into your back with his nails, making you hiss with a little pain when he feels that you are still pushing into him.

"Wait a bit, baby, I'm almost..." - he nods.

You cling to his neck, biting it when you feel that you are coming, making him whimper and tears finally spill from his beautiful, glassy eyes with excitement.

Heavy breathing could be heard all over the alchemist's office. After a few seconds, you pull away, grabbing napkins from the alchemist's table and cleaning your penis of lube and sperm. You get dressed quickly while your boyfriend takes a breath, and then you wipe his body, wiping both the ink and your cum and lube with him. Your hands pull on his clothes, and then gently put him down, checking if he can keep his balance.

You give him a quick peck on the forehead, holding his hands:

"You were such a good boy, sweetheart, you know? I would be willing to continue this for hours, if not days. "

"Mmm, thank you, but we both know that this is impossible, neither you nor I can stand so much, human bodies... M—!?" - you quickly kiss him on the lips so that he doesn't start the same lecture again that he starts almost every time after your sex.

"I know, I know, don't take my words seriously, I know we won't be able to fuck for days, okay? But we can do it for hours." - he blushes slightly, but nods, awkwardly getting off the table.

He licks his dry lips, sitting down on his chair again and starting to draw.

"You can go, [Your name], Sucrose will arrive soon so we can work on the formula a little more." - he turns around with a teasing grin. - "And it's time for you to work too."

You laugh, but you kiss him on the lips and leave, waving your hand to him. You close the door and laugh to yourself.

"I'll fuck you at home anyway, like the last whore, making you scream under me, Alchemist... " - you whisper, although you understand that no one will hear it now...

...

"Sucrose, is something wrong? You're too red. Do you have a fever? Maybe an allergy?" - Albedo asks, slightly worried.

"N-no, it's just... [Your last name]-Sama... He is... Nothing..." - she sighs and turns away, leaving the blonde in disbelief.

Yes. No one will hear you, except Sucrose, standing behind your back.

This is my first fan fiction, I hope you enjoyed it!!

[bey0nd-1he-stars]

Magic on a canvas - Kaz Brekker

Masterlist

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x artist!reader

Word count: 978

Warnings: none

Summary: You're an artist and one day you want to paint Kaz.

Winter had arrived to Ketterdam and snow was falling upon the dirty streets, covering them in a powder of white snowflakes, making them look crazy and welcoming. It kind of destroyed the whole “barrel vibe” and the criminals all looked like Santa’s workers after being outside. That included your little gang too.

The dregs were still running the businesses as usual, although the ships got a bit delayed and the delivery from the docks to the Slat and to the Crow club were a bit slower than usual because of the cold and the snow and ice on the cobblestones.

You had settled in Kaz office. A canvas propped up and a cup of hot chocolate on the small table beside you. You'd faced the canvas towards the window to take advantage of the natural lightning so Kaz never saw what you were working on until you turned it around to show him. He was currently sitting in his office, working away at some papers he had lying around that needed to be taken care of. He had a glass of liquor on the desktop among the papers, as well as a few rolled up maps from the last heist you'd done. Occasionally, you’d look up from what you were doing to take a sip of your chocolate, or sometimes just to look at him and what he was doing. In truth you were taking in his features to get them down on the canvas as true to reality as possible. 

“You need something?” He mumbled, eyes glued on the written lines. He picked up a pencil, scribbled something down and then placed it aside. He looked up to meet your eyes and a teasing smirk made its way to his lips. You returned his smirk and returned to your canvas with a shake of your head. He rolled his eyes at your nonverbal reply but went back to his work nonetheless. But it was hard to try and paint him when he had his head bent forwards, his dark hair falling into his eyes and his brown eyes stuck on papers. So you carefully reached out with the back of your long brush to make him look up from his work. You let the brush end rest under his chin, holding him there, taking in the way the light from the window caught onto his features. Even in the raw light, he looked good. It was a bit unfair, to be honest. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled and drew back the brush and returned to your painting. Your actions left Kaz a bit dumbfounded but he quickly shook it off and returned to his work. He’d learned since long to not question you, just go with whatever you were doing and just let it slide, however weird it was. But a small smile still made its way to his lips when he looked down at his work. It was so purely you, what you’d just done. And all while still respecting his boundaries and not touching him with skin to skin contact. His heart stopped for just a moment at the thought. 

These actions continued on for a few hours. You’d reach out for him to look up from what he was doing and then he returned to his work. One time he left to go fetch some more drinks for the two of you, one time you left to get some paint. He contemplated if he should look at what you were painting but just when he were to go for it you pushed the door to his office open again and he lost his chance. When the light from the window started to dim down you let out a content sight and put down the brush you’d been holding for hours. You put it in the cup of water where you’d put the others and Kaz looked up to see what you’d been painting. You always showed him when you were finished, but not before that. 

The painting on the canvas took him aback a bit. You’d painted him. A scene where he was walking on a snow covered road with white, pearly trees on each side. It wasn’t in a city, it was somewhere else, he didn’t know where. And he looked far better in your painting than he did in real life. You somehow always managed to paint some sort of magic into your paintings, making them breathtaking and beautiful. Your pictures were nowhere near what reality looked like and it always made him gasp a bit for breath. But you’d never painted him before. Or maybe you had and just hadn’t shown him, only Ghezen knew. You tilted your head to the side a bit, taking in his reaction. He didn’t say anything for a while, just letting his gaze take in the masterpiece. Then he spoke up after a few solid minutes.

“You make me look so much more beautiful than I do, than I deserve,” his voice was just a whisper. You smiled gently at the words and his gaze flickered from the painting and met yours for a few seconds before returning to the painting. 

“You look like that for real, you know. It isn’t just the painting. You look like that right now. At least in my eyes you look like that,” you words were gentle but Kaz heard the honesty behind them. And he believed you. Maybe you did see him that way. His heart swelled at the thought and his breathing got stuck in his throat. He could only nod as he reached out a gloved hand to rest over yours, giving it a soft squeeze before retracting again. 

“You look like that too, you know,” he told you, not looking at you but resting his gaze on the painting, “In my eyes, you look that beautiful.”

[wisepuma23]

Knives and forks clink against the dinner plates, metal scraping and laughter, their base drips with water from above. Drip, drip, drip. Impulse watches. It seeps into the center of the table, a growing patch on the wooden grain. Right between the steaks and loaves of warm bread. Nobody pays it any mind. Drip, drip.

(…Nobody but him.)

Etho says something he doesn’t catch, a bark of laughter from Tango. Beads of water splash onto the surrounding food.

Impulse’s hold on his fork goes tight. 

He needs to fix that. 

“Impulse buddy, you with us?” Skizz shakes his arm, “You agree Scar’s acting weird right?”

“Yeah yeah,” Impulse answers on auto-pilot, “I heard rumors he’s been trying to get kills. Yellow Scar, man.”

Tango cackles and the conversation cycles on. Impulse steels his jaw, he can’t zone out again. Keep pretending, he reminds himself. It wouldn’t be good to stab his teammates at the dinner table. He’d have to clean the table out. Maybe pull out the entrails from the cracks in the grain of wood.

(Drip, drip.) 

No, focus. 

Focus.

(A faint, metallic scent permeates his senses– gone in a moment.) 

Impulse bites into a piece of steak. Buttery juice slides over his tongue and between his teeth. The taste of blood makes his grip on the fork creak. For what feels like the first time in millenia, his glamor itches at his skin. The careful control over his form twitches and squirms like a coiled snake poised to strike. 

Show them what you really are, hums in his mind. The dripping echoes like a wardrum. Show them your true face.

 Impulse licks at his lips, “You did a nice job, Tango. It’s delicious!” 

“Aww!” Tango coos, his flames crackling a soft orange-red, “Etho lent me some seasoning but he won’t tell me where he got the happy happy sauce.” 

Impulse takes another bite, canines digging into flesh and bone, and the rip is loud. Or is it loud for him? Again, infernal magic bubbles at the back of his throat. He swallows, appraising the flavor. It doesn’t drown out the sickly sulfur like he hoped. 

“Bdubs?” Impulse guesses with a tease.

“Oh come on,” Etho groans, “Ah I guess that was way too easy.”

“He married me too, remember?” Impulse laughs at Etho’s expression, “Can’t blame me for forgetting the best meals I’ve ever had! Bet he’s feeding his family around now.” 

Etho waves him off as they cackle at the blush rushing up past the mask. Impulse cuts another piece off the bone. Rip, snrk, clink. Idly, he wonders if human skin still made the same noise. 

The clink of metal against the plates, the dull pounding of water. The snap-crackle of Tango’s fire. Buttery-sweet blood coats his tongue.

He remembers the musky smell of Etho's burning hair and flesh, his screams turned into bloody gurgles as he flailed in lava in the first game. Just minutes before everything ended. 

Impulse tears off a chunk of meat.

(Snrrk, clink.)

People die in so many ways. It’s why he loves the variety poison provides— stomachs twisting and lungs seizing— and yet he wonders if anybody’s tried skinning someone, if the server would even allow it.

Impulse swallows a dark laugh, is vivisection on the table? His glamor shivers.

Metal catches the light, the smooth shimmer taking him back. To sharp arrowheads and snapping magma, to a castle reaching into the sky.

He remembers a golden clock.

(Rip, snrk, clink.) 

Impulse remembers the way Bdubs’ flesh bubbled and blistered from the Wither. The way his Red bloodlust sang at the way his corpse crumpled to the ground. Bdubs’ skin growing dark, mottled with blackened streaks and bruised from the Withering and regular battle. 

The worst of it healed over, scars stitched into flesh. But he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t revel in it, the stained canvas left on Bdubs’ face and arms. 

He kissed that face. Peppering them along wither-cracked ribs and arms, tracing every dark and poisoned line with a smile. I’m sorry, he had said. I’m sorry.

He meant it. (Yes, really.)

Impulse hadn’t meant to curse Bdubs with chronic pain and scars, especially since he had to feel the echoes of it through the soulmate bond. He loved Bdubs. Loved him since the beginning.

And he remembers the rip-schk! of the ax in his back. 

The way his blood pooled on the grass as everything went dark.

The phantom feeling of Pearl’s wolves tearing flesh from bone in long strips and bites. Riiiip-snrk-crunch.

Blood dripping from between their teeth.

(Drip, drip.)

Impulse stabs his fork a little harder into the next cut, picturing a handsome face with a cute and crooked grin. Damn him. He glares down at his plate. No, focus. Pretend, he tells himself, you’re good at that, aren’t you?

There’s a hand over his, warmer than it should be. He looks up.

Tango has cocked an eyebrow up with a cute little nose crinkle, “You in?”

Impulse blinks, the words registering in his head.

“Yeah, sure,” He grins, “A walk sounds great. I think I’m tired of Skizz’s stink overpowering the place. We really need to install some ventilation.”

“Hey!” 

And they laugh, bright and loud as Skizz pouts, checking his armpits. The glasses shake as Tango rattles the table with a smack, a cackle on his lips. Etho’s eyes twinkle with amusement.

Impulse’s focus drifts. Back to the present, away from the blood.

(Drip, drip.)

And yet.

(Rip, snrrk, clink.)

…The hunger prevails.  

[insomniakisses]

To paint something beautiful

Character: Alpha!Hope Mikaelson (TVDU)

Requested: yes-ish?

Warnings/Notes: omegaverse au, mentions of nakedness, sexual references, cute hope, somewhat sexual end.

It was quite common that you would wake before hope, her wolf preferring to sleep and never get out of bed. It was the topic of most of your teasing.

Rolling over you smiled against her neck, feeling her arms tighten and a soft tug to pull you even closer as she whines. Laying soft kisses to her skin you gently pull her face closer to you kissing every inch.

“You’re so pretty baby” you mumble against her lips a bashful smile taking hold of her features as she moves to hide into your chest.

You coo running your hands through her hair as she lets her eyes close once more, comfortably burrowed into your warmth.

Placing a kiss to her forehead you smile when her eyes flutter open and she gives you a soft look, clearly enjoying the attention shes getting.

You chuckle as you rub her back, “My wolf” you tease nudging your nose against hers when she leans up. You lean to kiss her soft lips when she puckers them ever so slightly.

“You know what i want to do today?” She hums in response to your question clearly set on falling back asleep.

“I wanna paint you,” she look up then somewhat surprised at the request. You smirk and lean to kiss her jaw whispering against it, “naked.”

Her eyes widen and a blush paints her cheeks, “N-Naked?”

You hum continuing your kisses along her jaw knowing how its her biggest weakness, a soft sigh leaving her lips when you nip at her sweat spot.

“So,” you nip and kiss along her neck “Can I?” She hums distractedly, causing a smirk to tug at your lips. You move to straddle her, leaning to kiss her lips as she grabs you hips. “Can i baby?”

“Yes” she sighs breathlessly against your lips, huffing when you slide off of her and tug at her to get her out of bed.

—————————— <3 ———————————

“Like this?” You can’t help laugh at the ridiculous pose she was in, shaking your head softly at her goofiness.

“No, like this” you smile as you push her onto the couch, getting her to lean against it head tilted to the side slightly. One of her legs up and the other bent but laying flat, leaning to kiss her happy trail you softly place her cock against it making sure its still visible. It was one of your fave feature of hers after all.

You move to head back to your canvas when she softly grabs your hand, her cheeks seeming to be permanently tinted red.

“Where do i, um, put my hands?” She asks softly, clearly nervous causing you to softly kiss at her hand. “Wherever you find comfortable, my love” you lean to kiss her for the final time before heading to your work station.

Gathering your paints, you start setting up your pallet smiling softly at how patiently and still hope is sitting. Thinking to yourself you make a mental note to reward her later, for being so good for you.

You thank whatever being had given you the idea to paint the room, specifically where your beautiful alpha was currently siting, a day prior. Of course you had known you had planned to paint hope at some point but never imagined her to be naked when you did.

You smile to yourself and start to your brush strokes, your eye’s flicking between your canvas and hope. Although, you reckon you’ve got her body completely memorised.

—————————— <3 ———————————

“Annnnnd, done!” You cheer, smiling at hope when she groans in relief getting up to stretch her body having had cramp for at least the last half an hour.

Walking over to the painting she smiles wide when she sees it, wrapping her arms around you and nuzzling into your shoulder. “Its perfect baby” she muses.

“Thank you baby-”

“But you made my dick smaller than it is” she cuts you off smugly, causing you to roll your eyes and push her away.

“What! I’m just saying given how much of a struggle it is for you to take it you should know its bigger” She smirks then, seeing the blush on your cheeks she thinks shes won.

“Thats when your hard baby, but right now? you’re all soft, it resembles more of a shrivelled shrimp right now” You cant help laugh at her shocked face, saying no more as you head to the bathroom.

“Hey! Get back here you cheeky little shit!” She yells causing you to shriek and attempt to out run her.

While you do get to the bathroom first your not fast enough to lock her out and she opens the door, mischief floating in her eyes.

She tugs your clothes of with ease ignoring your half hearted appeal to her “better nature” stating how you were only joking. But she simply pushes her lips on yours, kissing you deep. Humming appreciatively when you begin to jerk her cock as she pulls away.

“Now,” she grabs your jaw “lets see how small I really am” she smirks.

[laura1633]

omg im going feral about the idea of charles being all possesive with max but also being sweet as fuck. Like being jealous when someone is near his boy so he feels the urge to mark him up all over when he fcks max but also having his hands glued to his waist or hips on public

PLZ I BEG A DRABBLE ABOUT IT

Hi anon, I too love the idea of possessive but sweet Charles. I've written a little drabble below, although it did start in one direction and end up somewhere else entirely so sorry about that 😂

“You look cold” Charles’ brow furrows as he sees the way Max is shivering against the cold. The Dutchman’s nipples are also visibly hard through the fabric of his top. Whilst Max’s perky nipples would ordinarily be a complete turn on Charles can’t exactly start sucking at them in the middle of the paddock. He can just imagine the PR headache that would create. It’s almost worth it though, just to hear the happy little whines Max would make.

“It’s fine” the Red Bull driver shrugs but Charles can see all the tiny hairs on his boyfriend’s arms standing on end. He did warn Max it was cold out but Max had clearly not been listening.

The Monegasque slides off his jacket and wraps it around Max’s shoulders. It’s a shame really because the collar is obscuring some of the marks Charles left against his boyfriend’s neck last night. He makes a mental note to add more later, to suck and nip right the way up the column of the neck before tugging at the Dutchman’s earlobes with his teeth. 

Luckily the nice pink mark on the left side of the throat is still visible for all to see. Charles’ mouth fits over it exactly. It is pretty clear what it is and the fact that Max hasn’t bothered to hide it is making Charles feel a little feral. He wonders how many marks he could leave before Max makes any attempt to cover them up, wonders if Max would come to the paddock with lip and teeth marks covering the whole expanse of his neck. 

Maybe he would. 

Charles knows that Max is rather proud of all the pretty little additions to his skin. He likes to be claimed. To be taken. To be Charles’. The Dutchman always moans louder when Charles rakes his nails down his back and he always comes much harder if Charles has spent time sucking bruises all over his body first. 

There is a nice satisfaction to be found in knowing that underneath the clothes Max is so visibly Charles’. The curves of the Dutchman’s chest are covered in love bites that get darker the closer you get to the nipples. The pink goes well with the light purple finger marks left from Charles’ grip on Max’s hips as they fucked last night. And to finish it all off there are some nice rosy red hand marks across each of Max’s ass checks.

Max really is such a beautiful canvas to work on and Charles would love nothing more than to be able to show his art work to the world. Perhaps he’d pair it with some audio, a soundtrack of all the moans and whimpers the Dutchman made as Charles licked and sucked and nipped over him. 

The Monegasque shakes himself out of his thoughts as he realises his boyfriend is talking to him.

“Do you not need this?” Max looks a little confused but mostly contented as he slides his arms into the jacket and snuggles in to it. In truth Charles does feel the cold but the sight of his boyfriend wearing his jacket in front of the entire world warms him up inside. Especially when Max looks so snuggly and comfortable. 

“It’s fine” Charles smiles and presses a small kiss against Max’s lips before sliding his arm around his boyfriend’s waist and hugging him close to his body as he sees some of the Dutchman’s mechanics heading over.

Charles isn’t jealous. He has no reason to be. Even so he still likes to remind everyone that Max is with him. Just a gentle squeeze of the waist or a kiss against the lips. It’s not like Max is going to run off with one of his team but they do have a tendency to …. well…. babygirlify the Dutch driver. They fuss and fawn and hug and grab and look at him like they think he is the whole world. Charles can’t really blame them, he feels the same way. 

“See you on track” Max grins as he purses his lips and waits for Charles to kiss him before heading off with his team. Charles chuckles and feels a little rush of excitement each time Max turns back around to smile as he is led way. 

*

Max says his hellos before going through to his drivers room to get ready. As he slides his hands into the pockets of Charles’ jacket and realises there is a post it note in there his heart skips a few beats. He pulls out the scrap of paper and feels rather emotional as he realises there is in fact something written on there. 

It was a usual occurrence back when they had first started dating and had to keep their relationship secret. The two of them would pass notes back and to throughout the day as discreetly as they could - some sweet, some loving, some absolute filth. Whatever the message was there was alway a thrill each time they slipped them into each other’s hands unnoticed in front of the world's media. 

Max still has all the notes stored away safe for a day when he might be able to use them - like an engagement or a wedding. They really are a beautiful record of how things started and grew between them. 

The Dutchman smiles like crazy as he reads the note from his boyfriend, it’s a wonderful feeling knowing there is someone out there always looking out for you. 

“Love you more every day, even when you refuse to listen to me when I tell you you’ll get cold!! I will warm you up later. Charles xx” 

[justsescape]

“You know, anon, a lot has changed since you last visited the prefecture.”

Takayama was somewhere between a city and a village. A far cry from the never-ending bustle of Tokyo, but a little too dense and a little too modern to be called the countryside. After her days with NERV met their end, it was here that Asuka had made her retreat. High-rise apartments and geofronts were traded for wooden verandas and sliding doors.

“I have my own home now," Asuka said proudly. The passing years had softened her features, but they had no such effect on her self-confidence. "It’s just close enough to real civilization that I’m not completely disconnected, but it’s also just far enough away that no one bothers me.”

Your walk had carried you to the outskirts the area. Winding footpaths – far too thin to serve vehicles – led away from the thoroughfare you stood upon and toward gatherings of houses dotting the hillsides like a picturesque canvas. Somewhere among them was Asuka’s abode, but getting there was far, far easier said than done. Now that night had fallen, there was little to guide you except for lanterns and fireflies. Shadows drew long and dark across the vacant trails.

But – wait. What did she say? That no one bothers her?

“Except you, you idiot.” Asuka playfully elbowed your side. Smiling was coming much more easily to her. "But I know why you're really here. You came to see how much I've grown!"

It wasn't just the darkness that made the trek to Asuka's home difficult. Experiments at NERV, genetics without a leash, or some combination of the two had manifested itself in a cartoonishly gigantic bust that could – literally – halt traffic. They were wider than the front of a car and drooping down to her knees. The beige tarp she had taken to wearing over them inevitably ended up more like backless dress; it kept her modesty intact, but it still left a veritable tract of cleavage exposed, enough that one could have easily sunken an entire filing cabinet into its depths. Its textured finish visibly tented over nipples that were as stiff as branches.

"They're about two feet bigger around since you last saw me," Asuka said, letting her hands wander over the expanse of her boobs. Like NERV, cup sizes were a distant memory. “Now I know why you were in such a hurry to visit. You really couldn’t go another day without seeing these again, could you?”

The teasing only quickened your pace, but you were capped by how fast Asuka's gargantuan proportions would allow her to go. To walk beside her was, in some ways, to walk behind her – for the width of her chest was enough to practically serve as a barrier for two other bystanders. You watched as her knees impacted against the back of her boobs again, and again, and again. Her reddening skin indented around the collisions like you were poking a single finger into a stress ball.

“Well…”

Asuka came to a sudden stop. Her unfinished thought hung like dew in the humid summertime air.

“Maybe… maybe I also couldn’t go another day without seeing you.”

Asuka let Cupid’s arrow pierce your heart; she had a drink to get. The fluorescent glow of the vending machine she stood in front of painted her figure in a perfect silhouette. Her breasts, jiggling with residual momentum beneath her ever-tightening top; her long legs, slightly knock-kneed from the cumbersome weight they had been burdened with; and her lithe arms, exaggeratedly reaching over her endowments like she was trying to reach into a particularly tall dumpster. But her increasingly distressed grunts indicated that she was making no progress.

“Hey, g-get over here,” Asuka stammered, hunched over and dragging her boobs backward across the pavement. Even the dark of night couldn’t hide her obvious blush. “I think... I think they grew a little, and now I can’t reach the damn buttons anymore. Just get me some ramune.”

But it was too late; the damage had been done. You felt the unmistakable residue of milk caked across the buttons on the machine, leaving it inoperable. There could only be one culprit – or, perhaps two. One glance over your shoulder was all it took to end the investigation. A pair of expanding stains had formed across the front of Asuka’s tarp – and her creamy product was rapidly pooling underfoot, slicking the pavement and venturing into the nearest storm drains.

“Damn these things! Why does this have to happen now?! Not like I'll even be able to fit into the paths that we still have to go through... and now we'll have to clean up this mess!”

Asuka wound up a kick and walloped the back of one of her own breasts, sending a spurt of milk arcing through the air. The tarp's fabric had stretched enough that it was in no state to stop it.

But with her growth came a new center of gravity – and pride came before the fall.

"EEEEEEK!"

She couldn't stabilize herself after the kick. It was like she had slipped on a banana peel. With one long shriek, Asuka toppled face-first into her own cleavage, her slender body halfway swallowed up between her massive, swelling, gelatinous tits. All you could see were her kicking legs; all you could hear were her muffled shouts. If they were big enough to stop a car before, they were ambitiously expanding upward and outward like they intended to block an entire tunnel.

"Mmmpf! MmMMMmpmpfh!"

Asuka's feet left the ground as her ballooning breasts seeped across the street. Her areolae escaped the confines of the tarp, which now merely served as a bridge from one erect nipple to the other. It was a good thing streetlights were a rarity around here; if she billowed out any further, she'd be colliding into them and snapping them in half.

The inflation didn't stop until her boobs bridged the gulf between one side of the street and the other.

...and somehow, some way, Asuka surfaced above the car-crushing heft of her boobs with a sharp gasp. She spread her arms outward across her flesh like she was trying to stay buoyant above quicksand.

"Well... so much for getting home," Asuka bemoaned, looking over herself. Her rack had raised her several feet above you; it was like she was now sitting (or perhaps laying) on a throne. “And I was going to get you a drink, too…”

Silence. Milk still dripped from her nipples like they were leaky faucets. To get any further up the hill, she'd need a crane.

“Well, forget the vending machine," Asuka finally said. "Because... well, I do have one kind of drink to offer you...”