#song fic requests

[shadowofahope]

Completed Requests

My asks are always open to new ideas or requests. As well as if you just need someone to talk to, I can always lend an ear. If a request becomes too long or I feel it needs a moment, it will become a regular fic under my main page. However, I will still have a shout out for the request on the fic itself!

💜♾💜♾💜

BTS:

Protective older brothers

Christmas Miracle

💜♾💜♾💜

SKZ:

Jealous over a guy flirting w their SO

Meeting your protective older brother

Jealous over a girl flirting w their SO

Forgetting your birthday

💜♾💜♾💜

[slight-gaming-addict]

i am doing song fic requests! give me a character and a song you would like for the fic and i will write a small drabble (prob more) on the character and song. characters that i write for are found on my fandoms page, i will write for more characters in the fandoms listed if i feel up for it so don’t feel discouraged to request a different character!

i put some songs that i think i would be able to write easily about under the cut and put the genre i think would fit it the most, but they could fit into basically any genre you want. you also don’t have to pick one of the songs they’re just there as a kind of template<3

angst:

i’m not the only one - sam smith

habits (stay high) - tove lo

scared to be lonely - martin garrix & dua lipa

numb - carlie hanson

newbury park - lexi jayde

heather - conan gray

505 - arctic monkeys

love the way you lie - eminem & rihanna

fluff:

you could start a cult - niall horan

phases - prettymuch

still into you - paramore

smut:

wrong - max

swim - chase atlantic

tio - zayn

not categorized:

she knows it - maggie lindemann

break up with your girlfriend, i’m bored - ariana grande

more than a friend - girli

two nights - javailin

request rules

[number-onekidqueen]

𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫

Part One Part Two.

Angst

Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader

warnings: underage alcohol use, minor injuries, angst, denying feelings, surprise kisses

Parties were secret affairs at Camp Half-Blood.

Well, secret from Chiron, the one who would put an end to them. Mr D. could usually be convinced by one of his children to keep quiet if a dash of something alcoholic was poured into his Diet Coke. Once curfew had passed and all the younger children had been safely and snugly tucked in and Chiron and Mr D. had retreated to Big House, all those involved would gather in one of the emptier cabins that had older campers. The Hypnos kids would place a sleeping spell on the younger kids that belonged to the cabin hosting the party.

And then the fun would begin.

The alcoholic beverage supply was not immense, but there was enough provided from older Hermes campers to get, well, severely wasted.

Luke knew that path hadn’t been your initial idea, but you were well on your way there.

He on the other hand, hadn’t drank that much, stopping after he noticed just how much you had been drinking.

You weren’t usually like this. As a daughter of Apollo you were intelligent and responsible, a trusted head counsellor and a masterful healer. It was usually he causing mischief and getting hurt, and you patching him up and reprimanding him.

How the roles had reversed. Instead of your modest camp uniform and demeanour, you were in ripped jeans and a striped tank top and had converted into an absolute entertainer, lighting up the room. You weren’t acting like a semi-rowdy nineteen year old anymore, but a fully-wild twenty-five year old college student. He wished he was as drunk as you, because it seemed you were having the time of your life from how enthusiastically you were laughing with a random Ares girl you had traded drinks with.

Instead he was the only vaguely sober one in a crowd of drunk late teens playing inappropriate games or dancing. It wasn’t fun anymore.

The games were the only thing that kept him there.

“Ok… y/n,” one of your sisters - he couldn’t tell in the dim light, Apollo children all looked golden - drawled, pointing insistently to you. “Do a dare or spin the bottle!”

He observed as you appeared to think, contemplative as you sipped beer - gods you needed to stop drinking, please - before reaching for the glass bottle on the floor. The small crowd cheered and squatted in a wonky circle, Luke joining them and sighing lightly.

He hated this game. Hated how you would happily kiss anyone. He wished in these moments that he did have the courage to talk to you, to tell you how he felt and sweep you off your feet. And then it would be him you would kiss and hold hands with, and he would take care of you and do anything to make you laugh.

But instead you kissed others.

Finally, after a few clumsy grasps of the bottle, you drunkenly clutched it before giving it a rough spin. It whirled around and around noisily, colours shining off of it, and at that moment he loathed that gleaming glass neck, loathed it with a passion for pointing at everyone but him-

For not-

Pointing at him.

At him.

And by some miracle, by some grace from the Gods, it was pointing at him.

His heart raced wildly and he struggled to breathe as he glanced up at you. You were already looking at him. Your eyes looked golden in the light, and your hair covered most of your face, hiding your expression. He inhaled and exhaled shakily, hoping to calm down as he waited for your move.

You stayed still.

Still.

Still.

Maybe this was awkward for you, he suddenly realised, panicking. After all he was your best friend, of course it was weird to kiss your best friend. In fact you were probably waiting for him to call it off, but he’d taken so long to understand, he was an idiot.

“It’s o-okay,” he stuttered, cursing himself, “you don’t-“

You pounced at him, your lips smashing together. Immediately his mind went blank. It was burning, passionate, fierce, and somehow infinitely better than anything he’d ever guiltily dreamed about as he lay awake. He noticed vaguely that you’d landed in his lap and wrapped your arms aggressively around his neck. He was much more preoccupied by your lips, how they moved against his perfectly. How when you were this close to him, you smelled like chocolate chip cookies. How your lips and mouth and tongue tastes like flawless hot spun sugar. How you were into this, and into him. How all of his dreams had come true and maybe this wasn’t a terrible night.

And then you dragged a hand through his curls and it felt so good he had to fight not to groan, ugh.

“Get some, Castellan!”

“Something’s getting a little hot in here.”

And this meant nothing, he realised suddenly as the catcalls continued, his thoughts returning. Because this was all an act, something to impress the others and make them laugh from your boldness. Luke was just the pawn, something to elevate you higher-

He felt sick, his lips slowing, before stopping completely, pulling away from you. He faked a weak smile, drawing his face further away from yours and avoiding eye contact. He didn’t want to see the drunken humour in your eyes.

“Ok, your turn next!!” Someone yelled, and it was all over.

——————————————

So it stayed, an almost torturous existence before he noticed your eyelids drooping as you sleepily accepted the Ares girl’s shot glass. And finally, finally, he had an excuse to get out of this hellhole.

He walked over, dodging campers all around, before he approached, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, y/n,” he said softly, “I think we should get outta here. You seem kinda tired and so am I.”

“How did you know that?!” You asked incredulously, spinning around to him in shock.

“That you were tired?”

“Yeah!”

“Oh,” he chuckled awkwardly, “your eyes are all droopy, it’s kinda obvious.”

“Huh. Well, y’know what, I kinda agree. Let’s go.” You shrugged, waving to the Ares girl as you walked with him. You linked arms and he tried to act normal. You two never shared this much casual contact.

“What’s her name?” Luke asked, focusing on his surroundings, as you walked out the door.

“I have no idea,” you replied cheerily, breaking from him and taking a leap off the step. It didn’t end well, with you tripping and falling in a heap on the damp and cold grass.

“Are you ok?” He asked, knelt over you and concerned. You giggled, nodding and accepting his hand as it pulled you up.

“Ok, just- let me- hold onto me, ok?” He said, looping an arm around your shoulder to keep you steady. He held on as you laughed like a little girl and clung to his t-shirt all the way to your cabin.

The stars were nice tonight. For once, you could see them, like billions of shimmering white dots in the skies and it really added to the peace of the scenery. The air was cooler, there were no people, and it was so much quieter. More serene. He felt as if he could breathe. He glanced at the stars once more as he led you up the stairs to your door, before dropping your hand. Or trying to. You didn’t let go.

“Good night,” he whispered, giving your hand a squeeze and trying again.

Your grip wouldn’t loosen.

“Luke,” you murmured breathlessly, stepping forward, bringing your joined hands to your chest. He could feel your breath, warmth, pulse. Fast. Like his. “Why are you….”

“What?”

You looked as if you were going to say more, but couldn’t find the words, instead stepping even closer, and he could feel your joined hands compressed between your two chests. His chest was still, his breathing completely halted as your eyes observed him delicately, his eyes, nose, scar, jawline, cheeks, mouth, as if he was a priceless painting.

You met him once again.

It was softer this time. Your lips still moved in sync, but it was sweeter, calmer. If the other kiss had been caramel, this was smooth, gorgeous honey. As if you had all the time in the world to dazzle him with your smooth kisses. You probably did. Your hands were slower as well, leaving warm trails all over as they made their way down his back, over his sides and under his shirt, where your fingers traced the hard contours of his chest. He had to restrain the urge to shiver violently at your touch.

You pulled away a fraction, warm breath hitting his lips. “Come inside. Stay over.” You panted against them.

He wanted to. Tiptoeing in with a smile on his face and crawling into your bed, with you beside him? His dream. Being tangled in your bedsheets, waking up with every limb of yours and his twisted together, and your hair splayed over his chest? His Elysium.

But you were drunk, deeply drunk. And if he was ever lucky enough to experience any of that, he wanted to have the real event, where alcohol didn’t influence your willingness. He wanted you to be sober.

“I can’t.” He withdrew from you, out of reach. “You’re drunk and I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N, I’m your best friend, you don’t like me that way. You’re just drunk.”

“Yeah. Like super drunk.” You affirmed, nodding enthusiastically. “But that doesn’t change anything. I like you sooo much-“

No. Luke wouldn’t hear this. After liking - maybe even loving - you for this long, your drunk, confused notions would hurt him too much. He refused to listen.

“C’mon let’s get you to bed so your hangovers not too bad.” He interrupted, taking your arm and leading you into the cabin. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Needless to say, you would never talk about it again if it was up to him.

He left quickly, once you were tucked in, before you could give him a response, with a hurried ‘goodnight’.

Once he was tucked comfortably in his own bunk in cabin 11, he pondered the night’s events. A whole lot of drinking. Stupid games. Not one, but two kisses. Even if they meant… nothing. They were nice either way, and probably the only two he would ever get from you.

————————————————-

The next day, he admitted, was a disaster on his behalf.

He’d had a strong plan to pretend nothing had ever happened. And then while he was getting dressed, four of his siblings wolf-whistled and smirked when they saw him. Clearly not something everyone had forgotten.

And when he saw you at breakfast, wincing slightly and looking drowsy, the moment your eyes had flashed to his, all he could think about were the kisses. He couldn’t see straight, and stumbled while he grasped his breakfast tray, and before he knew it, he hadn’t even said hello to you.

The avoidance gradually increased. After breakfast, he steered clear of you, going straight to his class with younger demigods. He didn’t make an effort to accompany an injured camper to visit you, instead sending one of their friends with them. And during lunch, where he’d usually visit you at the infirmary and bring food, he stayed at Hermes table, with nervous feet rooted to the floor.

He could tell by dinner, you were confused, hurt even, from the glances you were sending to him. And he wanted to go over, make it up to you by sitting beside you and telling you one of the Stoll’s latest schemes, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. It was like he was a shy toddler all over again, clinging to his mother’s leg, and he was so embarrassed for it.

That night, he swore the next day he would be better about everything. Be honest, available and just see how things would go from there. You guys had been through anything. Surely you couldn’t let each other down for this.

He woke early, with a clear mind and went to retrieve breakfast for him and you. Finding you in the infirmary, rolling bandages, he took a deep inhale before stepping in, ready.

“Hey,” he greeted, cringing a little at himself as you dropped the bandage in surprise, and watching as it rolled all over the umber planks in white streaks.

“Oh, uh, hey,” you replied, scrambling to pick it up and sending him a distracted smile. Not the greatest start, but he could improve.

“Sorry I haven’t been around. Been busy, around the place with new campers, y’know,” he lied, feeling guilty, “funny, haven’t actually seen you since we-“

“Hung out at the party?” You interrupted, nodding.

What? Hanging out? Just hanging out did not qualify ignoring him till the party was over and then two kisses and an almost-confession.

Unless you didn’t want to acknowledge the truth. Apparently, this was the case.

“…. Yeah.” He hesitantly agreed, searching your eyes for any signs you might want to take back what you said.

You wouldn’t even meet them.

“Anyway,” he placed the plate down on the bench, faking a smile, “here’s breakfast. Have a great day.”

And as he walked out, disappointed that you had let him down, he couldn’t help but wonder how things would’ve turned out differently if you had been sober.

How he wished you had been sober.

[kurtie4life96]

Song request: im afraid to go to heaven with Eddie but make it sexy PLEASE

I'm Afraid I'll Go To Heaven

E.M. × F! Reader

Summary: Eddie is sick and tired of being called a "Satanist". Maybe his best girl friend can help him relieve that frustration.

CW: MDNI 18+, smut, dom!Eddie, sub!reader, graphic, rough sex, unprotected sex, a bit of ritualistic sex, choking, BLOOD play, KNIFE play, exhibitionism, spitting, handcuffs, masochism/sadism, oral (f receiving), anti-christianity, Christian protesters, smoking

THIS IS VERY ANTI RELIGIOUS/CHRISTIANITY. DO NOT READ IF THAT'S OFFENSIVE TO YOU. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.

"Here we go again." Eddie mumbled through gritted teeth.

You sat in the passenger seat of his van as he turned into the trailer park, a swarm of angry protesters with picket signs shouting at the two of you, scattered across the front of his house.

"The cops won't do anything?" You asked, sighing out of frustration.

He laughed, motioning towards the protesters, "Nope. Why should they, anyway? I am part of the satanic panic, after all."

After the events of the Upside Down and Eddie almost dying, he was nearly charged for the murders that Vecna had committed. Miraculously, Hopper had managed to clear his name, placing the blame on Jason, as he was there when Patrick died, mercilessly bullied Fred, and his girlfriend was Chrissy. Plus, Jason was now dead. It was all too easy.

But the people of Hawkins still weren't convinced, still called Eddie a murderer, a Satanist, a devil worshipper.

They protested at Hawkins High, his graduation, even going as far to protest outside of his house.

The crowd slowly started to dissipate after a few months, but they were still relentless, calling him a sinner, a murderer, telling him he was going to burn in hell, to repent.

You had tried to protect your friend from these people. You'd screamed at them, threw trash at them, stuck by his side.

But Eddie was still miserable. And they were never going to stop.

Eddie pulled up in front of his trailer, parking and turning his van off. People began to surround it immediately, yelling at him, perhaps the both of you, holding up picket signs with some of the most vile words on them you'd ever seen.

He ran his hands through his hair, agitated, and punched the steering wheel suddenly, cursing to himself.

You reached your hand out to gently hold his, an attempt to calm him down, "We just have to ignore them and go inside."

Eddie snatched his hand away from yours, hurting your feelings a little, but you understood his anger, not taking it too personally.

"I'm sick of just ignoring them!" He exclaimed, wide-eyed, "I know that's what Hopper said to do, but I can't do it anymore, I just- I can't do it!"

He opened the car door and you quickly followed, rushing towards him as he confronted one of the middle-aged, bearded protesters, getting in the man's face.

"You need to repent, young man," he started, "if you want to live forever, be with loved ones in Heaven, you must confess-"

"I don't wanna live forever!" Eddie shouted, taking an even closer step towards him, making the man stumble back a bit.

"You're going to burn in hell-"

"Then so be it!" Eddie smiled maniacally, throwing his hands up in the air, turning around to face the crowd, "I don't want to go to Heaven, I'm afraid to go to Heaven!"

You looked to the crowd, worried, as they began to argue with him, but Eddie cut them off quickly.

"I'm not afraid of a so-called Devil, or- Satan, I'm afraid of being around people like you forever!" He paused to laugh again, screaming, "It's like me- people like me, are your only entertainment in this shitty town now!"

Eddie snatched a picket fence from a nearby protester, smashing it on the gravel, and throwing the broken wooden stick on the ground with an audible, frustrated groan.

The people went nearly silent for a moment, only quietly murmuring amongst themselves as your heart beat rapidly, waiting for Eddie's monologue to end.

"Whatever is waiting for me on the other side, I'm sure it's better than being around you Bible fucking, no spined, fiction loving fucking sheep!"

He was panting heavily now, turning red from rage as the silence continued. You grabbed his arm, giving it a gentle tug.

"C'mon Eddie, let's go inside now." You urged him with a soft, quiet voice.

"Yeah," he announced loudly, still glaring at the crowd, "let's go inside."

You both began to walk up the steps to the front door, Eddie turning towards them again for a moment to throw up his infamous devil horns, before flipping them off.

You walked in first, him slamming the front door behind him.

"You okay?" You turned to him, an empathetic, yet worried look on your face.

"Yeah," he let out a breathy chuckle, "yeah, I'm okay. Are you okay?"

You nodded, giving him a half smile, "Yeah."

Eddie sat down on the couch, sinking into it with a big sigh, fumbling with his rings, chewing on his lip as he stared off into space for a moment.

Little did he know how much your nerves were on fire, from the adrenaline and excitement you felt watching him get angry, snapping at the crowd and losing it a bit.

Watching him yell at the protesters, smash that sign, the way he stood up for himself, put those awful people in their place, it had butterflies filling your stomach, it made your face feel a little too hot. It didn't help that he was in a bad mood, that he was twirling his metal rings on his fingers.

Sure, you'd had a bit of a crush on Eddie of course, especially after his bravery fighting the demo bats, but you hadn't acted on your feelings. It wasn't the right time. He was going through too much, and the two of you had been close friends for years.

Eddie must have noticed you staring off into space too- or more so, staring at his hands, because he had said your name three times before he got your attention.

You perked up, coming back to reality and grinned awkwardly at him, playing with your hair anxiously.

"Sorry, what?"

He looked at you questioningly, like he was trying to read you, one of his hands gesturing towards the seat next to him, "I said, come sit."

"Oh, yeah, of course," you walked over towards the couch, sitting down next to him, feeling unable to relax.

"Smoke?" Eddie held up two cigarettes and a lighter, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, sure, thanks." You grabbed one from his fingers, staring at them a little too long again.

You put it between your lips, patting your pockets to look for your own lighter.

"Uh-uh," Eddie scolded you, putting his own cigarette between his lips, lighting yours and then his own, taking a long drag, "pretty girls don't light their own cigarettes."

You took a drag and smiled ear to ear, scooting closer to him until your thigh was touching his, shoving his shoulder playfully, "I've heard that one a few times now, Munson."

"Don't act like you don't like hearing it, though." He chuckled, then stopped, his smile fading away as he heard the faint voices from the protesters still outside.

"Fuckers," he spat, taking another long drag, "they're never going to leave me alone. They'll never leave you or Wayne alone, either. Not til' we leave the damn country or some shit."

"Yeah, probably not." You responded quietly, pursing your lips together, staring at your cigarette.

The both of you sat in silence for a few moments, deep in thought, watching the smoke circle around in the sunlight coming in through the blinds.

"What if there was another way?" You glanced over at him, asking nervously.

"What do you mean?" Eddie gave you a perplexed look.

"What if," you sighed, putting out your cigarette, your heart beginning to beat hard against your chest, "What if there was just... another way?"

"I'm not gonna 'repent for my sins', if that's what you're saying-"

"No, no," you shook your head, "fuck that, hell no. I mean... what if we scared them? Like... enough to make them go away? Leave you alone?"

"How?" Eddie scoffed, taking another puff of his cigarette before reaching his hand towards the ashtray to put it out.

"Hold on," you grabbed his arm abruptly, stopping him, your breathing shaky.

"What're you..." He trailed off, shifting in his seat.

You grasped his hand, keeping eye contact with him, as you slowly moved it towards the back of your forearm.

Eddie screwed his eyebrows together, in disbelief, as your forced his fingers on your forearm, putting his cigarette out on your skin.

You gasped in pain and hissed, your skin seering, before Eddie yanked his arm back, throwing it into the ashtray and grabbing your arm, inspecting the burn.

"What the fuck? Why would you do that? Are you okay? Jesus Christ, why? Why did you do that-"

"Eddie," you said his name softly, like a prayer, "Eddie... if it's okay, we should scare them."

He paused for a moment, still holding your arm, before responding, "What are you proposing?"

"I'm proposing," you took a deep breath, looking into his eyes, "we could make a mess. A mess that'll scare them for life."

Eddie raised an eyebrow at you, looking intrigued, pressing the pad of his thumb into your skin.

"What kind of mess?"

"Eddie, I like you. I know it's not the best time to tell you that, but you don't have to like me back," you continued to ramble, "I know the things you like to do when you're... having fun. You've told me. And I like the same things too, sometimes."

Eddie stared at you intently, leaning closer towards you, motioning for you to continue, "Go on, I'm listening."

You sighed, "You could use me, if you want, we could make a big scene, you know, scare them off, but only if you want to, you can say no-"

He interrupted you by grabbing both sides of your face, his rings cold against your skin as he crashed his lips onto yours, leaning into you as much as he could. Your body froze for a second, in shock, but you quickly kissed him back, resting your hands on his shoulders and humming contently.

"Oh, sweetheart, my pretty angel," Eddie broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours, his lips grazing your own as he spoke softly, "I thought you'd never ask."

"Really?" You pulled back and looked into his dark eyes.

"Really." His lips curled in a smile, then slowly faded as he asked, "Are you sure that's what you want? Because- I could really hurt you."

You nodded eagerly, "Yes, yeah, it's what I want. It's what I want with you."

"Okay," Eddie sighed, sitting upright as he looked down at you, "but if it gets to be too much, tell me. There's... a lot of weird things I'd want to do with you."

You sat on your knees, gazing up at him, almost as if you were worshipping him. His beautiful brown eyes, his long, frizzy dark hair framing his face just right, his clothes, his plump lips making you feel intoxicated.

"Eddie," you assured him softly, reaching a hand towards his hair, brushing it with your fingers, "nothing is gonna be too much. I like weird. And with these insane assholes outside," you looked towards the window, "how about we make it fun? Like you said... we're just entertainment. Let's put on a show."

He stared down at you, breathless, his heart racing, feeling absolutely feral- a mixture of his anger, excitement, and the sight of you fully giving yourself to him.

Eddie looked over to the window above you that faced the front yard, the crowd still there shouting, and he opened the blinds, staring outside with a sinister smile.

There was a moment of quiet between the two of you, the air thick with tension and anticipation, as you gazed at each other with locked eyes, before Eddie crashed his lips against yours again, much harder this time as he grabbed your hair to yank your head back, his other hand gently cradling the side of your neck.

You moaned into each other's mouths lightly, the kisses increasingly becoming faster, animalistic, carnal, not being able to get enough of each other. You both panted heavily between kisses as you smoothed your hands down his sides, then sliding them under his shirt to feel his scars and soft skin.

Eddie slid his tongue across your bottom lip languid, feeling like silk, the taste of him silencing all of your thoughts as you licked into each other's mouths feverishly, deeply, him tasting sweet like cherry coke- before he bit down on it, hard.

Normally this action would make someone gasp, yelp, cry even- but not you. You sighed contently as Eddie sucked on your bleeding lip, then sat upright again to look down on you, as if he was a God.

"Open." He commanded in a low voice.

You did as you were told, knowing what was coming next. He spat your blood back into your mouth, the taste of iron flooding your senses. You swallowed, licking your injured lip before he could tell you to do so.

"Fuck," Eddie groaned, "you are fucking unreal."

He stood up from the couch suddenly, and before you could question him, he grabbed your ass and lifted you up, setting you down harshly on the top of the couch, your back facing the window.

"I can't wait to put bruises all over this pretty skin." He rasped.

He lifted your shirt up eagerly, pulling it off of you and tossing it to the side.

"No bra, huh?" He smirked.

Before you could respond, Eddie went straight for your jawline, at first kissing it sloppily, then getting greedy, sucking and biting on your skin brutally, as he palmed your breasts, groping them and pinching your nipples, making you gasp and arch into him, his hair tickling your shoulder.

He made his descent down your neck and chest, sucking your delicate skin so harshly it began to bleed as you huffed and raked your fingers through his hair and tugged, wrapping your legs around him, silently asking him for more.

He licked down slowly between your breasts, keeping eye contact with you, then took one into his mouth, kissing and swirling around his tongue.

"Eddie, please," you whimpered, still tasting iron, "more..."

"More what, pretty girl?" He asked in a husky voice.

"Just... more," you whined, "just- I want you!"

"Fuck," he moaned lowly.

He pulled down your pants and panties off your hips and legs frantically, but swiftly, throwing them to the side with your shirt.

Eddie stood back for a moment, admiring your now nearly naked body with hungry eyes- the only garment still on you being your slouch socks, your bare ass pressed up to the window, as you gazed at his lithe figure.

"Open your legs." He gently demanded.

You did as you were told, and he breathed out a shaky exhale as he gazed at your heat.

He looked up towards your face again, your bleeding bruises, your bloodied lip with hooded, unholy eyes.

You grasped the back of the couch with both hands, leaning your head back, and let out a desperate sigh.

"Eddie-"

He kneeled on the couch quickly, spreading your thighs apart, then sliding two fingers along your soaked lips, and began to move his tongue along your clit messy and rapidly, lapping at your heat with a heavy tongue that somehow felt like velvet.

You cried out a mixture of his name and expletives as euphoria gripped your body, arching into his mouth and your muscles tightening.

"Eddie," you cried, "fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god-"

He slipped two fingers into you easily, curling them harshly, you feeling his rings at your entrance.

You gasped at the action, raking your hands through his hair, and you felt him smirk against your wet heat as he began to snake his other hand up your bare chest.

You needed more of him, so much more, and you grabbed his wrist, beginning to guide it towards your neck.

Eddie instantly got the hint, and wrapped his big hand around your throat, pressing his fingers into the sides of your neck.

You groaned in pleasure as blood ceased to travel to your brain, ecstacy taking over every inch of your body as your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he continued to savor you relentlessly.

"Harder," you managed to choke out, "please, harder-"

He moaned against you at your request and squeezed harder, making you see stars.

Your skin was on fire as you began to lose composure, and the world crashed around you, the strongest orgasm you've ever felt hitting its peak as you tried to moan, but your voice was strained.

Eddie continued to work you through your high, then kissed your sensitive nub, making you twitch before pulling back, his mouth slightly agape and wet with your slick as the both of you panted. He licked his lips and leaned towards you, kissing you gingerly as you tasted yourself on your tongue, then he promptly bit your lip again, reopening your wound.

"You look so hot when you're bleeding," he huffed against your mouth.

You gripped his shirt with one hand, then reached towards his hard, aching length with the other, making him groan.

"Eddie," you mumbled, "please, take them off, let me-"

"Next time, baby," he assured you, "next time. The sun is gonna go down. We need to hurry."

Your stomach fluttered at his words, 'next time', as you watched him take off his jacket and shirt swiftly, then pulling down his pants and checkered boxers, letting his cock free.

You stared at his length with wide eyes. You knew he would be a little big, but he was larger than you'd imagined. Your mouth nearly watered at the sight. You then watched him lean down to pull something out of his jean pockets.

Eddie stood up, holding up his switchblade, the sharp tip of it shining as he gazed at you intently.

"Do you trust me?" He asked.

"Yes," you whispered.

"Give me your hand."

You reached your arm out to him, excitement and nervousness bursting in your abdomen.

"This is gonna hurt, okay?"

You softly smiled and nodded, "Okay."

He grabbed your wrist, pressing the blade into your palm and quickly slashing a line into it, blood beginning to pool in your hand immediately. You winced at the pain, but gave him a hum of agreement.

Nodding at you, Eddie took to his own hand, slicing it the same way he did to yours, blood dripping through his fingers.

He threw the knife to the side before intertwining his fingers with yours, pressing your bleeding wounds together, then grabbed the back of your head, leaning in to kiss you passionately.

He pulled back, and took to your chest, smearing the mixture of each others blood all over your neck and breasts, his eyes seemingly turned black.

You whimpered at the sight, but were pleasantly surprised by how much it turned you on, rubbing your thighs together for some friction as your core ached.

"Turn around." Eddie instructed you, grasping your thigh, motioning for you to turn over.

With a sharp inhale and exhale, you turned around, knees on the seats of the couch, hands grabbing the back of couch, as you looked out the window, the crowd of people still outside now looking back at you in horror.

You smirked at them maliciously, wiping your face, smearing it with more blood to terrify them even more.

Eddie groaned at the action and kissed your lower back, squeezing your ass, taking his length into his hand.

"You're the most beautiful thing that's ever happened to me. And I'm gonna ruin you."

"Do it, Eddie," you whispered.

He lined his tip with your entrance, then gripped your hips harshly, slamming all the way into you with ease, bottoming out.

You both gasped loudly in unison, his cock stretching you out in a way that could only be described as perfect.

"You're so tight, fuck, you're gonna kill me baby." He groaned.

Eddie began to set a slow, but harsh pace, pounding into you deeply as you pushed back against his thrusts. It felt so much like Heaven, that you nearly forgot what you needed to do.

As he continued to snap his hips into yours harshly, you squeezed your wounded hand, collecting more blood in your palm, and dripped it onto the window, smearing it between his thrusts until you were satisfied that it was covered.

He began to fuck into you faster, hitting your cervix every time, as you began your work on the window, drawing a sloppy, inverted pentagram with your fingertips through the blood, the both of you cursing and moaning each other's names.

The crowd outside was horrified at the sight of your bloodied chest, the bloodied window, and the symbol you drew, making them leave the property rapidly in terror, like a bat out of hell.

You arched your back even more, goosebumps spreading across your skin as you both moaned, Eddie still fucking into you, raking his fingernails on your back, leaving behind a pattern of scratches.

Once you'd noticed that the voices outside had disappeared, you wiped your uninjured hand on the fogged, bloody glass, peering out the window.

"Eddie, fuck," you stammered between his thrusts, "it worked- they- they left. They all left."

He let out a breathy laugh, slowing down his pace, smoothing his hands up and down your back, "Oh, angel. You're so smart. Such a good girl."

You chuckled a bit through pants, reaching your arms back towards him to touch him, to hold his hands for a moment.

Eddie suddenly pulled out of you, and you whined at the loss, confused.

"What are you-"

Before you could question him, he grabbed your waist, lifting you up off the couch and making you yelp, throwing your naked body over his shoulder and quickly heading to his bedroom.

"Eddie," you laughed nervously, "what's happening?"

"Sh," he shushed you, placing a kiss to your side, then throwing you on your back onto his bed of messy sheets and blankets, gasping as your body hit the mattress.

You gazed up at him in anticipation, as he held his infamous handcuffs in one hand.

"Do you still want me?" He asked in a husky voice.

"Yeah, of course I do-"

"Good," He interrupted you and smiled wickedly, "arms above your head."

You bit the side of your lip and grinned, doing as you were told.

He got on the bed and crawled over you, placing the handcuffs over your wrists, clicking them in place, making sure they were tight, then kissed your injured lips softly.

Eddie leaned back, spreading your legs open for him gently, his length still rock hard.

"You're cumming like this."

You shivered at his words, and he gripped your hips, yanking them up towards his cock, and pushed himself inside of you.

"Fuck, Eddie,"

"Jesus, you're still so fucking wet," he cursed.

He began to thrust into you again, at first slow, but quickly becoming desperate, pounding into you with a harsh and fast rhythm, gripping your hips tighter and tighter, surely leaving bruises.

You felt fire in your abdomen as he continued to fuck into you, him biting and kissing your knee sloppily as the new angle of his cock hit your sweet spot every time.

"Eddie, I don't think I can last long, fuck-"

"Me too, sweetheart," he groaned, putting a hand between the two of you, circling your clit with his thumb as he watched himself disappear inside of you, "cum with me."

You felt his cock grow even harder against your walls, making your eyes nearly roll in the back of your head, tears burning at the corners as you almost sobbed, crying out expletives as your orgasm took a hold of you, shockwaves gripping your body.

Eddie felt your walls clench around him, making him come undone as he emptied himself deep inside of you, biting your knee to hold back a loud moan as he followed closely after you.

Your highs came to a halt, as he gently lowered you back down, and collapsed on top of you.

You both panted heavily against each other, trying to catch your breath as he finally slid out of you. He held the sides of your face and kissed you desperately, then planted kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

"So, uh, that was..." Eddie trailed off.

"Amazing. It was amazing." You finished his sentence breathlessly.

"Yeah?" He lifted his head up and smiled at you.

"Yeah," you smiled back, "we should... do this again... soon."

"Yes, we should," he kissed your forehead, "we really should. Gotta take you on a proper date first."

He sat up from the bed, and you whined at the loss of his body heat.

"Well angel," he started, "we need to clean up all the blood and stuff, ya know, and fix our hands before Wayne gets home."

"Yeah, we do, but Eddie," you showed him your hands, "you gotta get me out of these cuffs first."

"Oh yeah, yeah, duh," he laughed, "the cuffs. Of course. Just need to... find the keys." He began to look around his room worriedly.

"God dammit, Eddie."

[lees-chaotic-brain]

careless whisper by george michael , gojo , angst

WC: 2k

CW: cheating, angst, hurt/no comfort, reader has female pronouns (referred to as madam and birthday girl), alcohol consumption (all characters are of age), swearing

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to the event taglist): @chosolovers @ssetsuka @ichikanu

listen to this while reading

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For one night, one night alone you were going to put all of your suspicions and past hurt aside and enjoy the party. After all, it was your birthday so the night was supposed to be all about you.

Shooting a smile at your boyfriend across the room you can't help but feel your stomach flutter as he shoots you a wink and begins making his way through the crowd towards you. Stopping in front of you he sweeps forward in an exaggerated bow, extending his arm.

“Madam Birthday Girl, will you do me the honor of dancing with me?”

Laughing at his antics, you relax, reassured by his usual behavior. Of course everything was normal between the two of you. You were just being paranoid. Placing your hand in his, you allowed him to escort you onto the dance floor.

I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor

Wrapping your arms around his neck and swaying slowly to the music you rested your face against his chest and enjoyed the peace of the moment. Or, at least you tried to.

As soon as your nose brushed his blue button up your senses were invaded with some sort of expensive oriental perfume, meant to be subtle with rose and jasmine. But judging from the way your nose burned, whoever had been wearing it must have been wearing a whole bottle for the residual left on his clothes to be so strong. Nothing like the one or two spritzes of understated wildflower perfumes you preferred. 

Fighting the urge to gag at the overpowering scent, you looked up over his shoulder in an attempt to get some fresh air. Instead you were confronted by lipstick stains on the edge of his collar. Bright pink lipstick stains, which couldn’t possibly be yours, because you would never wear a color that garish. 

Suddenly you no longer felt like dancing, and as the song’s outro played you decided to give him one more chance to explain himself after the party. If he couldn’t do that, then the two of you were done. Looking up into his eyes you gave him a forced smile, a small part of you screaming that this was going to be the last time the two of you danced like this.

As the music dies, something in your eyes

Calls to mind a silver screen

And all its sad good-byes

After the song ended Gojo watched you walk away, unsettled by the finality in your eyes. Had you figured it out? Did you know where he had been before the party? Who was he kidding of course you had. As much as the two of you had danced around the obvious truth for months he knew that you knew. He had fallen in love with your quick wits and intelligence. There was no way you hadn’t put two and two together.

But despite forgotten dates, the nights he came home late or not at all, the perfume that wasn’t yours clinging to his skin, he dared to hope that you would just keep pretending not to know. That things could stay the way they were. If only you weren’t so smart.

Though it's easy to pretend

I know you're not a fool

Walking across the room you mingled with the guests, accepting birthday wishes and engaging in small talk. Heading over to the bar, you got a refill on your drink and leaned against the bar sipping it. You heaved a sigh, wishing the entire thing was over and that you could just go home. A large warm hand placed on your shoulder interrupted your stewing, causing you to turn around.

“Oh! Geto! Hi! I wasn’t expecting you to come. How are you?” You were surprised to see none other than your boyfriend’s best friend, Geto Suguru. The large man chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly at your surprise.

“Sorry, I was in the area and decided to drop by. I’m doing okay, but actually I’m here to ask you that. I’m really sorry about what Satoru did. It was fucked up. How are you doing with the breakup? I may be his best friend but just know that I’m always here for you-”

“Wait, what? The breakup?” You were confused. You hadn’t even told your best friends about your plans to confront Satoru, seeing as you had only made up your mind a few minutes ago.  “What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean ‘what do you mean?’ We had a conversation and Satoru promised me-” Realization lit up in his dark eyes. “He didn’t do it, did he? Oh that son of a-” He stops, looking at you guiltily.

“Listen, I’m really sorry. You should hear it from him. I gotta go now.” With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you with a sinking feeling in your gut.

From across the room, Gojo watched his friend leave, knowing that whatever had just happened between the two of you could not not have been good. Not wanting to obsess over what Suguru could have said, he turned away and jumped into a conversation. Whatever was said had been said already. There was nothing he could do about it at the moment.

Time can never mend

The careless whispers of a good friend

If he had watched a few seconds longer he would have seen you shake yourself then chase after his friend, looking for answers. Darting around guests and avoiding dancing couples you caught up to Geto just outside of the building.

“Wait!” You yelled, hurrying to catch up with him. “You can’t just leave like that! I need to know what you mean.”

Not turning, Geto shook his head. “Trust me on this one. You don’t want to know. Let him tell you. I’ll make sure he does, but you shouldn’t hear this from me.”

“I’m pretty sure I already know.” The words fly out of your mouth before you could stop them. “He’s cheating on me, right? Listen, I need to know. I’m probably going to break up with him tonight. So it doesn’t matter anyways. Just tell me.”

Rubbing his face with one hand he sighed and chuckled without humor. “Of course you know. Jesus this whole situation is so fucked up.” He turned around and looked at you properly.

“Let’s go find somewhere to sit. This might take a little while.”

To the heart and mind

Ignorance is kind

Geto had left a couple of minutes ago, leaving you sitting on a sidewalk bench organizing your thoughts. Fighting the urge to cry, you were unsure why the pain in your chest was so sharp. You had been almost positive, he was cheating on you, so why did it hurt so bad to have your suspicions confirmed? It wasn’t like the knowledge was anything new to you.

Maybe it was because you now knew that the woman was the daughter of a wealthy family close to the Gojos. Maybe it was because you knew that it had been going on for months, and when Geto found out he had made Satoru promise to either end things with the other girl or break up with you. Maybe it was knowing that after making that promise Geto had found him with the other woman again, leading him to assume Satoru had broken up with you. 

Whatever it was, it fucking hurt. Letting out a small sob, you clutched your chest feeling your heart break. Unable to stop the tears from spilling over your waterline you opened your phone and texted him that you knew before you could back out.

But as you wiped your face and headed back to the party because you would be damned if you let him ruin your night, a small part of you wished you hadn’t discovered the truth.

There's no comfort in the truth

Pain is all you'll find

After receiving your text, Satoru watched the entrance intensely, waiting for you to return. The second you step through the door he locks eyes with you, gesturing towards the outside, mouthing that he wanted to talk.

Instead of turning around and walking back outside so the two of you could talk like he had expected, you just strolled into the party and joined a group of your friends. Whipping out his phone, he tried to send you a text, only to discover that he had been blocked.

Then the panic set in as he started trying to make his way towards you. But at that moment a popular song came on over the speakers, and the crowd became rowdy, making it impossible for him to get to you. It was like the crowd was against him, pushing him back towards the edge of the dance floor instead of across it to where you were.

Didn’t they understand that he needed to get to you? That he need to explain himself? He wishes the crowd would just disappear. That it was just you and him, with nothing else in the way.

Tonight the music seems so loud

I wish that we could lose this crowd

As he continues to scan the crowd for you, he finally catches sight of you dancing with your friends, laughing and singing along to the song. Shouting your name, he waves frantically, but the venom in your eyes when they meet his make his voice die out. 

Maybe it was for the better that the two of you didn’t talk right then. You didn’t seem like you were in a place where you would be able to talk reasonably. Turning, he decided to head out for the night and give you the space you so clearly needed. He would just talk to you tomorrow.

Maybe it's better this way

We'd hurt each other with the things we'd want to say

The next day when he went to your place to talk, Satoru was greeted by a box of all of his things sitting outside of your apartment and a post-it note declaring that the two of you were over. And despite all of his screaming and pleading and banging on the door, you didn’t come out that day. Or the next. Or the one after that.

Now it’s been months, and he’s given up on winning you back. It’s clear you have no interest in hearing him out. And in those three months he had come to realize just how much you had meant to him. You were his better half, the one he truly loved. The other woman he had cheated on you with couldn’t hold a candle to you. 

If only he hadn’t been such an idiot. Maybe if he hadn’t been so conceited and cocky he would have seen the value in what the two of you shared and the two of you would still be together. Maybe the two of you would have spent the rest of your lives in happiness together. But that’s not what happened, and now he was all alone. 

We could have lived this dance forever

But now, who's gonna dance with me?

Years had passed, and he was still alone. At first he had tried dating to get over you, but after realizing that the first girl had a similar smile to you, the second had the same shade eyes as you, the third your hair color, he stopped. 

It didn’t matter how hard he subconsciously tried to find girls to replace you. None of them were ever going to be you. And the guilt he harbored over the way he treated you would follow him into the grave. He lost the best thing that ever happened to him. There was no recovering from that.

And I'm never gonna dance again

Guilty feet have got no rhythm

Note: to the people who asked to be tagged on the poll, i haven't added you to my event taglist yet, it was just for this fiic dw. however if you would like to be added, let me know!!

[xzinbdg]

helluu!! i saw your post and i was wondering if could request ateez reaction to them missing/forgetting about a date? thank you and i hope you have a good day <3 remember to drink water!

hello!!! thank u sm for the ask!! and for the water reminder!! not sure if that's what u meant but I hope u enjoy this! have a good day as well! 🥹💝

ateez reaction to forgetting about a date

paring: ateez x reader

ateez masterlist // my masterlist

hongjoong

seonghwa

yunho

(date* instead of day...)

yeosang

san

mingi

wooyoung

jongho

(sorry but I can't see jongho forgetting a date and the "a" was supposed to be after the "did"...)

[cybrsan]

hiii! can i please request non bf mingi fishing out reader's panties from the dirty laundry basket and touching himself while sniffing them and she catches him?

with 67 and 10

thank you <3333

Thank you for requesting! I changed things up just a little bit—hope you enjoy :)

Prompt:  10. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” + 67. “Uh, am I interrupting?” Pairing: Pervert!Mingi x F!Reader Genre: Smut Word Count: 1.5k Tags/warnings: Slightly sub Mingi, non-consensual use of reader's panties, voyeurism, exploration of Mingi's sexual fantasies, a bit of degradation, overstimulation

Requests are currently closed, but my masterlist can be found here.

All you wanted was to grab your wallet. You were supposed to meet with your friends for dinner and had made it almost halfway to the restaurant before realizing you left it behind. You were surprised to find your bedroom door cracked open; you always make sure to close it behind you when you leave. 

Now here you are, standing awestruck in the doorway of your own room as you watch your roommate, Mingi, fuck into his fist desperately. He’s sprawled out completely naked on your bed, towel abandoned on the floor next to him. He was in the shower when you left and, upon finishing, must have somehow mistaken your room for his own. 

You should walk away. It would be so simple to just turn back around, walk out the door, and pretend like you didn’t see anything. Your friends could cover the price of your meal, surely.

But he looks so pretty, all flushed and panting. His eyes are squeezed shut, sweat beading on his brow as he loses himself in pleasure. The way his muscles tense with every thrust is mesmerizing, and you can’t bring yourself to look away. You let your eyes wander, and you spot a bit of pink lace peeking out of Mingi’s hand. It’s then that the realization hits you—he’s getting off using your underwear. Looks like him being in your room wasn’t a mistake after all.

You should be creeped out. You should walk away. But you aren’t, and you won’t. 

“Uh, am I interrupting?” 

Mingi freezes, staring at you like a deer in headlights. He’s too shocked to even bother covering himself, his hand still wrapped around his cock.  

“I… Um, I… It’s not… I didn’t…” 

“Mingi,” you drawl his name, savoring it like honey on your tongue. “Are those my panties?” 

“Shit,” he says, snapping out of his trance and sitting up, tossing your used panties to the side as he attempts to cover himself. “I’m so, so sorry. You probably think I’m such a fucking creep, I—” 

“You didn’t have to go behind my back, you know. I would have given you a pair if you just asked. Or I would just let you fuck me instead.”

His eyes widen to a comical size. “You… you would?” 

“Yeah. I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice. The way you can’t seem to keep your eyes off of me. I’ve been thinking about indulging you for a while. And now, seeing you like this, so desperate… it’s kinda hot, honestly.” 

Your words seem to stun him into silence, so you take the initiative, moving closer to him. He immediately leans forward despite himself as if he’s magnetically drawn toward you. You kneel on the side of the bed and reach a hand out to trail one of your fingers down his cheek. His skin is hot, still flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. With that same finger, you tilt his head up by the chin.

“Kiss me.” 

“What?” 

You laugh a little, endeared by how puzzled he is. “Don’t you want to kiss me, Mingi? Or would you prefer I leave you alone with my panties so you can finish what you started?” 

“No! No. I want to kiss you. I want you.”  

He leans forward and presses his lips to yours. He’s so eager that your teeth knock together at first, but he's quick to adapt and is soon expertly teasing the roof of your mouth with his tongue. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer, but he seems hesitant to touch you. You guide one of his hands to your waist, and he quickly gets the hint, immediately touching you wherever he can reach. 

You feel a sense of satisfaction knowing you are likely fulfilling one of his dirty fantasies. Deciding you want to know more, you ask, “Mingi, when you imagined this, what did we do?” 

“I…” He trails off, blushing.

“It’s not a trick question, baby. Tell me.” 

“I’ve always pictured you on top… want you to ride me.”  

You push him back so that he’s lying against the pillows and move to straddle him. “So then that’s what we’ll do.” You lean forward and kiss him deeply while grabbing one of his hands, guiding it to your core. “Now get me ready for your cock, yeah?”

His whole body jerks at your words as if he could come from them alone. Just the idea of touching you, being inside of you, feeling you is like a dream to him. He tentatively traces one of his hands up your thigh, under your skirt, and pushes your thong aside. Just like kissing, his actions are a bit awkward at first, so you take it upon yourself to show him what you like. As his confidence grows, his touch becomes bolder and his fingers easily find a rhythm that has you wanting more. Unable to hold back any longer, you grab his wrist, halting his ministrations. 

“Want you,” you pant, “Do you have a condom?”

“Uh, yeah, in my room. One sec—” 

He goes to get up but you stop him, placing one of your hands on his shoulder and leaning forward to open one of your dresser drawers. The movement causes your chest to come level with his face and Mingi lets out a gutteral groan at the sight, throwing his head back against the pillows. You laugh as you pull out a condom, handing it to him.

“Like what you see, hm?”

“Fuck, yeah, of course I do.” He hesitates for a moment before adding,  “Would love it even more if we got you out of that shirt, though…” 

Gesturing to the condom and then your shirt, you say, “You put that on and I’ll take this off, deal?” 

He nods, already blowing into it to figure out which way to roll it. You move off of him to make it easier, shimmying out of your remaining clothes. The tension in the air is palpable and, as soon as Mingi’s ready, you’re crawling back on top of him and kissing him with renewed vigor. His hands trail down your back, across your stomach, up to your breasts, mapping you out as if this is something he wants to remember for the rest of his life. He teases your nipples between his fingers, swallowing your moans with his mouth. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers. “So beautiful.” 

The praise sends a jolt of pleasure right to your core and you decide that you can’t wait anymore. Reaching down, you grab his cock and give it a few teasing strokes before guiding it to your entrance. You sink onto him with a gasp of his name, almost overwhelmed by the sensation. He’s big, bigger than anyone you’ve been with before, and you almost want to laugh, delirious with lust. To think he’s been so shy this entire time when he’s this good, this perfect…

Mingi’s body trembles beneath you, his hands holding onto your waist with bruising strength. He must be practically aching, having edged himself before you walked in on him. “W—won’t last long, fuck…” 

You smile, reveling in the power you have over him. You lean forward and kiss him ever-so-sweetly, grabbing his chin between your index finger and thumb. Against his lips, you murmur,  “That’s fine, baby. As long as you’re okay with me using you until I finish. Just like you were gonna do with my panties.”

He groans, screwing his eyes shut in pleasure. “Oh my god, yes, please—” 

“Ha. What a dirty boy.”

You begin to move, your hips undulating in a slow, deliberate rhythm. You savor every sound he makes, each moan furthering your own pleasure. You begin to get lost in it, finding it harder and harder to stay in control. You can feel a familiar heat coiling in your gut and you know that you most likely won’t last much longer than him. 

His nails dig into your skin, his breathing becoming more ragged. You can tell that he’s trying to hold back, but as you increase your rhythm it becomes too much for him. He comes with a moan of your name, shuddering underneath you as you continue to ride him, chasing your own release. He nearly whimpers from overstimulation but, determined to bring you to the edge, he begins to thrust up into you. The new angle has him hitting that spot inside you that has you seeing stars and soon enough, your orgasm crashes over you like a wave. 

You collapse against his chest and he wraps his arms around you as you both take a moment to come back down to earth. Your breathing gradually returns to a steady rhythm, and Mingi has long stopped trembling. You feel comfortable in his embrace and you realize that this is something you wouldn’t mind doing again. 

You slide off of him but stay close, curling against his side. He smiles at you, eyes crinkling around the edges, and you can’t help but lean forward and kiss him. This kiss is softer, more gentle. More loving. 

"Better than you imagined?" you ask, pulling away.

Mingi laughs. "Yes, God, yes."

[spikezonebby]

hi !! saw requests for song fics are open, may I request something angsty with fem!human!reader x megatron (idw) to ‘young and beautiful’ by lana del rey ? 🥹 <3 thank you in advancee

Young and Beautiful (IDW Megatron x Fem!Human!reader)

Word count: 1,070

Eighty years. Humans lived for a measly eighty years.

You change right before Megatron’s optics. Your hair grays, your skin sags, your bones grow thinner. Like the very universe was sapping you away from him. Vector Prime alone could grant him all the time he needed to write a poem about all of the moments he lived with you.

But how could he begin to write when every time he picked up his stylus, you were that much further from him? He longed to capture the feeling of you and immortalize it in a data pad, but then you’d touch your tiny, soft servo along his gray bottom lip plate and take him away. Remind him that you were his moment. Here for a second, gone in a blink.

You flare, you flicker, you fade.

You asked him once, if he’d love you even after you weren’t so soft. You weren’t so pretty. And your mind wasn’t as intact as it once was.

Megatron’s answer was immediate.

“Even once the spark of your life extinguishes, and I won’t stop even for a klik after.”

You may have lamented the way time and age changed you, but Megatron learns to see unique beauty in it. There was something beautiful in a life lived so long that you COULD age, it was a promise of peace and resilience. You lived, you fought, you came back again and again. A force so strong that it took time itself to put you down.

Megatron thought that was romantic. Not in the way of kisses in summer or dancing in the moonlight, but the cosmic way. In the way that atoms and space dust collect together and become new stars, or how he realizes, in the grand scheme of things, so, so many tiny and nearly impossible things had to happen for you to be his.

As you grew older, you grew more rapt by his poetry. You blamed it on growing old and sentimental, he argued you were always sentimental. You had always found it fascinating, but Megatron believed that perhaps you took some comfort in it.

“Do you think, because I love you… I’ll be there in the Afterspark waiting for you?”

You were resting against his neck cables, curled up between his shoulder armor and helm vents like a tiny glitch mouse. The ardent heat of energon pulsing up the lines of his throat felt good and helped soothe some of the arthritis in your hands. He had to rest his chin on his servo, propping his helm up at an angle to keep from squishing you, but he hadn’t the spark to stop you.

It’s a question that he’d pondered many times. For he who often pondered the nature of all things grand, the question of life after death was a philosophist’s energon and mineral tablets. 

“You do not have a spark,” He points out, shifting his helm minutely to a position slightly more comfortable for you to tuck yourself under, “So I would not expect you to be held to the same rules and expectations of Primus.”

“But, your God is real.” You raise as a counterpoint, “Any proof that various human gods are real could be considered dubious at best.”

“That is a point for the high queries of gods, but what of your lack-there-of spark?”

“What is a spark but life?” You offer, gesturing with your hands and making the round shape of a spark before your breast. Megatron loathed to move you from your warm perch, so instead he tips the data pad in his servo so he can see your tiny reflection. You look comfortable, hidden securely in his collar fairings. “Perhaps I DO have a spark, but it’s simply just a different form. After all, energy cannot be destroyed. It merely changes form.”

You chuckle, knocking your knuckles against his neck cables. “Julius Robert Mayer.”

“A human philosopher?” Megatron asks, setting his datapad aside to instead settle for reaching up and touching his digit to your lap. You take the hint immediately, and hold his huge digit between your two itty bitty hands. 

“Founder of the laws of energy conservation. Suppose most of us are philosophers in some way, though.”

You have to be, with lives so short and bright. Megatron keeps that thought private to himself, gently rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand. You were feeling thinner and thinner these days. He hoped you ate well enough.

“So, what have we come to the conclusion of in this conversation?” You prompt, bringing back your point, “That there is no true way to say I do not have a spark, and that it’s ultimately far more likely that Primus and his Afterspark wait for me than say… The Christian or Hebrew concept of God.”

“For there are too many to count.”

“For there are too many to count.” You agree, “But it is the most commonly applicable and the most similar to Primus.”

“But,” Megatron clicks his glossa, a smile coming to his face. He loved it so  when he could have these in-depth conversations with you. “That is also dismissing that humanity is a much younger culture than Cybertron was. Perhaps you will find proof that these things are indeed true, or perhaps something you had not even considered. Perhaps in the afterlife, you will have a veritable plethora of ‘heavens’ to choose from.”

“Then I’d choose to wait for you.” You say, “Or I’d choose some religion where I’d be reborn and I could fall in love with you again.”

“You could live again, redo all of the things you had missed. Unmake all of your mistakes.”

“You talk as if I considered you a mistake.”

He feels your tiny, cool lips press to the pulsing line of energon that is connected directly to his spark chamber. You laugh, giddy and sounding just as young as you were when he first met you. There’s a well of emotion there in his chest and, if not for millions of years of carefully cultivated control, he might have sobbed.

Instead, he settles for curling the whole of his huge, warm servo against your body, and recording this moment for all of time. The moment he writes on his spark that you wanted to be his in any life.

“I suppose it is not a mistake then, if you do not regret it.”

[bitternace]

manos al aire

[ID: two mixed media images with a digital drawing of strelitzia from kingdom hearts. The background is a photo taken of a purple-blue sky with clouds illuminated ochre, purple and gold by a sunset (taken by ao3 user captainroxas). It's set in a square and two other rectangular sections, the rest is transparent.

On the right of the image, Strelitzia, is shown from the hip up, in her union x outfit, leaning slightly forward. Her body faces the right as she turns her face to the left. Her expression is worried, and mouth slightly open. Light hits her side as she puts her right hand to her chest, fingers resting on the purple stone of her necklace. The second image is a close-up of her face. /End ID.]

[mingtinysworld]

Hi there!

I saw your requests are open and I thought, maybe just give it a try 🙈 I've read "addicted" by you, and even though I don't really enjoy reading smut, I do love your writing style.

Sooo, would you be up to write something fluff/angst with Mingi or Wooyoung, and him fighting over something stupid with his girlfriend (reader) and she leaving the dorm/kq building/wherever they fought? Maybe she even turns off the phone or smith to be alone for a bit, but in the end they talk about it and everything is all fluff again? 🥺🙈

If you're not up for writing something like this, don't hesitate to let me know though, no need to force yourself to write it, okay? ☺️

Lovely greetings, Kat ☺️

Hi Kat!!

Thank you for this request, I love it a lot hehe. I can totally imagine Mingi in this situation and I’m a sucker for angst to fluff ugh. I hope you like this! It’s honestly hard for me to just do fluff, but I hope I did it justice and it’s not cringy haha. Thank you for the love and hope you have an awesome day mwah - J

Time for me

Pairing: song mingi x gn!reader

Genre: fluff, angst

Summary: you and your boyfriend Mingi come to a misunderstanding and end up hurting each other. He tries to make up with you, trying to prove his never ending love.

You sway to the rhythm of the music, heart pounding from the loud boom of the bass. You’re fairly sober, only having taken two shots of vodka so far, still feeling so bright. So many bodies surround you that you have a hard time finding your friends.

Only one hour ago, you decided that you needed a night out. You called your closest friends, Seonghwa and Yunho, and made plans immediately. You knew the two even before your boyfriend Mingi. He gets along with them quite well, but you’d classify them as more of your best friends.

After a couple more hours, the two boys round you up and you decide to call it a night. They very kindly drop you off at your shared apartment with Mingi, and say their good nights. You turn back to the door and use your key to open up, slightly stumbling from the alcohol in your system.

As you enter, you catch sight of Mingi sitting on the loveseat by the window. His leg is propped up on his knee and his arms are crossed. You would be lying if you said he didn’t look intimidating. You set down your purse and phone on the counter and proceed to take your heels off.

“Hi baby, what’s up?” You say casually.

He scoffs as the side of his mouth goes up bitterly. “Not much, my girlfriend just decided to go out without letting me know, and I’ve been sitting here waiting, for a text perhaps. But what do I get? A fucking update from Seonghwa on his story.”

Your face goes pale from his harsh tone. You honestly were so out of it you didn’t even think of texting Mingi. Figuring you were safe enough with your two friends, you completely forgot about it. Guilt fills you and you look at him apologetically.

“I’m so sorry Min, I totally forgot to text you. I really just needed a night out and I was safe, I promise. You know how great Seonghwa and Yunho are.”

He stands up and is now towering over you, stormy eyes looking at you intently. “You always do this y/n, always leaving me for those two. I’m your boyfriend, so why are you spending more time with them?”

His words surprise you. “Is that what this is about? You’re jealous that I’m hanging out with my friends? Mingi, you know damn well that I’m allowed to do that, I don’t understand why you’re being so difficult.” At your words his eyebrows furrow and you have to resist the urge to smooth it down.

“I’m not fucking jealous,” he hisses out. “I would just love it if my girlfriend kept me informed and didn’t act like a total slut all the time.” Immediately he regrets his words. He registers the immense hurt in your eyes and tries to reach out for you. You take in a shuddering breath and step back. Your eyes fill with tears and you speak with a trembling lip.

“I can’t do this, I’m sorry.” You choke out.

You storm out before Mingi can get a word out. Almost instantly your phone comes to life, flashing Mingi’s picture on the screen. You can’t believe he has the nerve to call you right now.

Torn between sad and angry, you’re left with only one option; to go to your best friends.

You show up with puffy cheeks and eyes, harshly wiping away any tears that escape. Yunho opens the door and is immediately filled with concern. He pulls you into his embrace and holds you for what feels like an eternity.

Once you calm down, you’re able to tell him all that happened. Both him and Seonghwa are filled with anger at the way Mingi acted towards you. After some reflection, you realize your wrong doing as well. You should’ve texted him, letting him know you would be out. You also should’ve put in more effort to spend time with him. But that does not excuse him and his harmful words.

You look down at your black screen, having turned it off long ago. You couldn’t handle his insistent calls and frantic texts. You spend the night at their shared apartment, not having the energy to go back to Mingi at the moment.

In the morning, you wake up with a tired ache in your body. You head to the kitchen, wanting to get some food in you. You see the boys sitting at the counter, looking at a piece of paper.

“What’s that?” You ask.

They look up with a somber expression. “It’s a note from Mingi, he must’ve left it early morning.” You take it from Yunho’s hands and read it over.

Y/n, I’m so so sorry. I had absolutely no right to call you that. And I’m so sorry that I acted so childishly. I know you love me, and would never do anything to show otherwise. Please come home so we can talk about this. I promise this will never happen again. I love you, a lot. Come home baby - Mingi

Your eyes tear up at the note, and you decide to go back home. You give the boys a grateful hug, and head out. As you near your door, your heart keeps pounding loudly. You swallow nervously and knock, feeling awkward in using your key. The door opens, revealing a disheveled Mingi.

His face drops into relief and he engulfs you with his arms. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.” He whispers into your hair. You ball up the end of his shirt into your fists, holding on so tight.

“I’m sorry too Min. I didn’t realize I was spending such little time with you. I want to fix that, and recommit. You deserve better.” You say with a sniffle.

He smiles at you fondly, and runs a loving hand through your hair. “You deserve everything my love.” He then kisses you with a gentle hand on your waist. He leaves featherlight touches across your bare arms, leaving goosebumps behind. You decide to stay in his warm embrace, reveling in the fact that Mingi is yours and you are his.

[mingiddies]

Could you maybe write something with a soft dom fem reader and Mingi? Maybe like him begging to eat the readers pussy or something like that?

“Please?” - S.M.

——————————————

|sub!Mingi x softdom!fem!reader

|NSFW/suggestive

| Minors DNI!

A/N: It’s been a while since I’ve actually wrote something, so I hope you guys like this!

——————————————

You had just gotten home from a long shift at work. Your boss was constantly asking you to do things and you had so much work to finish. This meant that when you got home you were exhausted. You entered the house without calling out your usual “I’m home!” for your boyfriend to hear.

You went into the living room and plopped onto the couch, closing your eyes due to the exhaustion. But as soon as you opened your eyes to go take a shower, you were met face to face with your boyfriend Mingi, who happened to be kneeling at your legs in an oversized hoodie.

“Hi babe! How was work?” He said, resting his head on your legs. “Tiring and stressful. I barely feel like moving right now.” You replied, playing with Mingi’s fluffy hair.

“Well, if you’re tired, maybe I can help relieve some stress for you.”

“And how would you do that?” You questioned. Mingi then began to spread your legs and went to take your pants off. You lightly grabbed his hands and took them off your pants. “Not tonight Min.” You said. “I’m too tired.”

“That’s why I want to do this. Just want to make you feel good.. please mommy? Please let me take away your stress.. let me bury my face in your wet pussy so you only feel pleasure from me. Promise I’ll make you feel so good, I’ll be a good boy for you mommy. Let me make you feel good. Please?”

“Ah, good boy, put that tongue to good use, okay babyboy?”

Mingi immediately began to take your pants off, admiring your clothed pussy through your panties. He could see your wetness soaking through them, making him want to drown in your cunt.

He then took your panties off and stared at your pussy, lightly tapping on it to feel your precum on his fingers.

“Go on baby, be a good boy for mommy.”

And those words nearly made Mingi cum in his pants as he began to lick and kiss at your beautiful, wet pussy.

——————————————

© mingiddies 2023

Do not copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my works on any other social media platform.

[nymphie-mama]

why are you here?

pairing rafe cameron x reader

summary based on why are you here by machine gun kelly

warnings angst, fwb, drug use, brief sex scene (not descriptive),

request can you do a rafe x reader based on the song ‘Why are you here’ by Machine Gun Kelly? i feel like it fits him so well!! - anon

a/n i don’t listen to mgk but this song is definitely mr rafe cameron. got

No one fucks like Rafe Cameron. No one comes close. Fuck, no one fucks like a high Rafe Cameron.

Once he was your best friend. Now you were someone he touched in secret.

Hed have you anytime, anywhere, and anyway he wants. All you wanted was him. He intoxicated you.

Last night, he had you spent out against a bathroom wall. There was a party in your midst, but he didn't care about who could've heard or walked in. He hoped Topper would hear how cockdrunk you were for him.

“No one fucks you this good, angel. And if I see the pogue staring at you like that again, I'll make him watch.”

Even though you loved the sensations, the way he would laugh and help you put your clothes back on when he's done with you; you couldn't take it.

You wanted all of him or none of him. To be his girl or to be nothing.

“Rafe,” you said, opening his bedroom door. His eyes were low, hair was messy, and his face was red. He was high again.

“Angel,” he said lowly, “what is it you want? Dick or drugs, baby.”

“Rafe.”

“Yes, pretty?”

“R-rafe I can't. I can't do this.”

He stopped. He set down his lighter and made eye contact with you for the first time since you'd walked in. The eye contact made you flush, but you set that aside.

“What?” he said, halfway laughing.

“I need you, Rafe,” you said, tears forming at your lashes, “but I can't want you.”

Rafe stood up, smiling that prideful smile, and started unbuckling his pants, “of course you can. I want to be inside you all the time, Y/N.”

“Stop. I'm serious.”

He stopped again. Dumbfounded.

“If all this has been for sex, say so and I'll walk away right now. We can go back to being only friends again. But I know you know better.”

His eyes were lower. His high was settling in.

“You know its not just sex.”

“So then have me. Wrap your arm around me and show me off.”

“I can't. I hate that I saw you last night. No one can know about this.”

“Then we shouldn't do it.”

“You know we can never be friends like we were.”

Tears started to stream down your face. You could barely breathe. It felt like you might choke on your spit. Rafe could see that he hurt you, you knew this.

“Please, Rafe.”

“I just need to smoke. Smoke with me, we’ll make it all better again, baby. I have some of the good stuff too.”

Fuck, Rafe.

All you wanted to do was scream at him. But you couldn't find the words. Why couldn't he love you? Why couldn't you just forget it all and go back to normal?

“Rafe, fucking stop!”

He rolled his eyes at you and lined up his coke. You'd seen him do it so many times, but this time it hurt so much worse.

“Why can't you just love me?” you mumbled before you turned away.

“You're too good,” he whispered back, wiping his nose to make sure there was no residue. “I'm just not myself with you.”

“There is no real you, anymore, Rafe. I learned that on my own.”

“Fuck you, Y/N!”

“Youre helpless. And you're fucking insane.”

“Leave my fucking house.”

And just like that. The boy you loved, the boy who showed you everything you loved. Was gone. Maybe he left when you started checking his nose for extra coke, or when he needed to smoke to feel something, but he was gone now. And maybe you were too.

taglist: @maybankslover @outerbankspov @ailee-celeste @sweetestdesire @giselep00

[wanderingpages]

High for this by The Weeknd but *jurdan*?

∞

Now Playing: High For This by The Weeknd

1:20 ───⊙─────── 4:15

Cardan’s lips taste sweet, like over ripe fruit; honeyed and heady, and Jude can’t help but want more of it, more of the feeling that slowly ebbs its way into her system. He holds her close, by the base of her neck and the small of her back, keeping her mounted on top of him while he nibbles small little red splotches down her neck. She’s breathing heavily, half dazed with the lack of oxygen getting to her head and something else that fogs and clouds the room. It’s so hot in here, she thinks, but she must have expressed this out loud, she realizes, when Cardan gives her an answering moan that vibrates against her skin.

“Ah,” she cries when his teeth nip at a spot just above her breast, leaving a sting he soothes with the pad of his tongue. Her knees on either side of him, tighten in response and he groans when the heat of her presses down against his groin. Her hands slide from the curve of his shoulders to the nape of his neck. One hand slides up, weaving through thick curls, gripping them tightly, pushing his face harder against her. She tilts her head, giving him space to move up, to that juncture between her neck and shoulder. It tickles her, but she likes the way she can feel it from the base of her spine all the way to the tips of fingers.

Jude would be lying if she said she hadn’t known what she was in for, why she heeded his words when Cardan told her “Come find me,” in the midst of the revel. It had been some time between him being the center of attention and being long forgotten in the haze of smoke and wine. With his finger tugging at a lock of her hair, letting the strands lace around his knuckles before slipping through, with his eyes so transfixed on the motion, Jude thought, he’s absolutely blissed out of his mind.

He left before she could offer him an answer and when she had finally given in just moments later, weaving through the crowd to the room where she knew he’d be. He had a faint smile across his lips, knowing that she’d come. Cardan offered Jude his hand, and she hesitated only for a moment before she let him pull her between his legs.

Her hands had found their way to his arms, her chest getting tight against her clothes as she suddenly struggled to breathe properly. He tucked a stray tress of hair behind her ears, letting his fingers linger. His eyes at half-mast, stared at her with something more than lust, maybe – she guesses it was concern, though his question didn’t really sound like a question. “You know what you’re here for?” Teasing, she thinks, because his hushed tenor when he pulls her closer, when their bodies flushed and her heart beat so hard against his own — and for a moment, it seemed like one rapid rhythm had mended between them; had tethered them to each other – his soft words had felt like the beginning of a fire. Heat and smoke.

Then his hands were guiding her, positioning her against him, roaming her body and letting her roam his, forehead against hers when she bent at the right angle, lost in her eyes while his lips barely skimmed hers. She kissed him first and when he parted his mouth, it was all the friction needed to ignite a spark. She bit down on his lips, tasting red as much as she felt it. He pulled back in a gasp, eyes blown out, but perhaps it had been like so from the start. Still, hers all but mirrored his. Cardan's fingers fumbled, then grasped at his own attire; buttons on his shirt, buttons on his pants. His top was off before Jude could catch up to him, her brain muddled for a little more than a moment. Then, Jude leaned in again and there was a flame.

“Take it off,” he tells her now, tugging at the laces on the back of her dress, loosening them with ease and expertise. He leans back on his elbows, watching her pull the dress up and then toss it somewhere on the floor beside them. In that time, it seems Cardan has absently found something amass the sheets and pillows. A golden fruit he had bitten into earlier that had coated his lips iridescent and his tongue in poison. There’s liquid gold between his lips after he's taken another bite, and Jude’s a little entranced, not realizing she’d folded her arms across her bare breasts.

Cardan reaches and gently pulls at her wrist. There’s no resistance as Jude’s hands are placed on his chest. She hovers hover him, stray pieces of hair, dismantled from pins and jewels, curtain the two of them. She’s nervous now, “Cardan,” her lips mouth over his, tasting that sweetness again. He squeezes the fruit, letting the liquid drip over his knuckles and land against his skin between them.

“I’m right here,” he tells her quietly, tossing the apple before letting his hand wander up her spine, the other sliding through her hair, letting glimmering traces of gold speckle over her body. “Don’t be scared,” he paints the places he likes the most about her... spine, neck, chest, breast, navel - up again to her cheeks, nose, earlobe, then down to her thigh and the curve of her ass.

“I’ve.. I’ve never…” she feels dizzy by proximity of him, by juices seeping into her pores. She's unable to finish her sentence, can’t really recall where she had been going, but she knows for certain that she wants to taste his lips again, wants to lick the elixir right off of him. But a small part of her wonders if that would be okay, if she could handle more than just the remnant of what he had taken hours prior.

“Do you trust me?” He’s genuine this time, reading her easily. Jude realizes, maybe outside of this moment, the answer would be different. She nods her head in response. He presses her closer, and uses the hand at her back to slowly guide her hips against his. “Then you can taste me,” he tells her. “I’ve got you,” Cardan promises.

Her tongue darts out, lapping at his bottom lip without thought, slowly pulling it into her mouth. Cardan's hips lift and begin to move in tandem with hers, hands at her hips, guiding her in wave-like motions, pressing their bodies harder against each other until she cries out against his lips. His eyes flutter shut and his fingers leave indents in her skin.  The scant material of her underwear is dampening against his pants, and she’s kissing him sloppily as she rocks against his hardening cock.

His lips are swollen when he turns them over, has her on her back while he takes a nipple into his mouth. She sucks in a breath, exhales a whimper. “Ah – ah, ahh…” losing her words, unable to think straight. She’s trying so hard to muffle her moans, paranoid the remaining revel party would hear, let alone even care. She bites down hard on her lip, and Cardan thinks it’s the most endearing thing he’s ever seen. His fingers squeeze at her other breast, twisting the pebbled nipple between his fingers, soothing the hurt with his thumb, then slowly traveling up her neck, over her chin and slips four fingers into her open mouth, helping her muffle herself, easing the hurt from her lips. She whines and spit dribbles down his ring adorned fingers. Her teeth bites down, but not harshly, and her tongue licks languidly at the sticky psychedelic.

Jude’s body thrashes in tight, mostly controlled movements, trying to cover more surface area, arching her back, buckling her legs over his waist, gripping his hair. Closer. He flicks his tongue and she sobs in rapture, silently begging him for more. His free hand holds her hip down, slides up and down her thigh until she releases him from her python grip, letting her legs fall against the mattress, spreading wide for his fingers to trace her nerves right to between her thighs.  He licks off the remaining substance then his hand slips into her panties, two fingers slipping easily in her. She gurgles out Cardan’s name when his digits curl upwards and his palm presses down on her clit. Spit slides down the sides of her mouth, tears parallel from the corner of her eyes. She looks upward, finding swirls in the smoke, glitter in the air, stars in her eyes.

Her knees bend, soles of her feet pressing down firmly on the mattress, her hips lift in vain, breath coming concerningly fast. “It’s okay,” Cardan says now, “breathe,” he instructs her, “I know, Jude.” He takes her in, watching as her eyes gradually hone in on him, straining a pinkish color from the sting of whatever still permeates the air. They’re wet and wide and repeatedly losing focus as Cardan’s slowly thrusts his fingers in and out of her. “I know, Jude,” he whispers again, sweat beading along his skin, entranced with her every reaction. “I feel it too,” he promises.

“Cardan…” she manages, hands going to his wrist, holding on to it as he slides down her chin and collars her neck, all the while, she rocks against his other hand, finding a rhythm that makes her ache. Slowly, she hikes a leg up, fumbling to slip his pants down. His tail flicks against her skin, stopping her, holding her ankle tight and still. “Will it hurt?” she glances down, watching when Cardan takes pressure off of her pelvis and reaches to pull down his pants. His fingers glisten obscenely, coating the tip of his member as he strokes it slowly. He squeezes tightly, at the base, giving an already light headed Jude a visual comparison to go by. His hand slides up and down like a slow tease. Her hands begin to shake, “Cardan…?”

He strokes the tip between her folds and Jude’s stomach all but caves. Her body tenses, waiting for an intrusion that never really comes. Just a smooth teasing that has her twitching occasionally. “We’ll be good,” Cardan says in murmur of a slur, “So good,” he whispers, placating. His hand smooths down her pubic bone, thumb pressing at her clit.

“Ah –” Jude’s head lolls back, and she takes in a deep breath just as he enters, slowly, testing the waters at first before pressing all the way in. He’s slow at first, easing out of her tight grip whenever he pushes in. When she begins undulating her hips, he falls forward, encasing her with his body, beginning to move more nimbly. Her nails find his back, scraping skin between scars already healed over. He fucks her that much harder, forcing short little screams from her whenever he hits deep enough that her toes curl. She’s still fighting her vocality, still fixated on faeries in the halls, not aware that they won’t recall even seeing her slip past them the next day, won’t recall her entering the room Cardan had decided to occupy.

He grips at her hair, forcing her to look at him, driving into her harder. “Just me,” he manages, and whether she understands his proclamation, or she’s unable to hold back any longer, Cardan isn’t quite sure, but he’s so pleased when she screams out in bliss.

So fucking pleased, when she’s fighting her eyes to stay open, when she’s uttering a jumble of words next to his name, “Please, please, please…. more…Cardan …more…please…I – just…you…”

[writingsfromhome]

Golf on TV

Ask: fluffy piece based on Lennon Stella’s Golf on TV (sorry I deleted the original ask but this song is so fluff so ty!)

—————————

I wake up to the bed made, for a second I don’t know where I am. My sleep-addled brain tries to catch up to the present moment. The present morning.

I was in bed, in my new home. It was Saturday morning.

Last night had been a late one. I was the co-lead in an intense case at work and the plaintiff’s team had been smoking our ass in court. Last night we’d gotten boxes of newly admitted evidence and every single person stayed well into the AM to sort it out. The other side liked to play dirty and this is how they did it. Little did they know we’d found our smoking gun. Never underestimate Stewart, Stone, and Nowak.

But I’d gotten home and passed out on the couch. Well, I’d gotten home to Harry passed out on the couch with the TV on. He must have tried staying up for me even though I had told him to go home. But he stayed.

I remember the tension leaving my body just seeing him snuggled on the couch, his face a kaleidoscope of colours reflecting off from the TV. I’d met Harry less than a year ago, a meet cute moment where both of us had gone for the same taxi. He’d waved me in like a gentleman and I’d invited him to share it. Turns out we were only going a few blocks from each other.

He was from London, in San Francisco for work. The taxi ride had been 27 minutes in total but in that time it felt like we’d known each other for 27 years.

As soon as I saw him on the couch, I’d dropped my jacket there, and gotten in beside him. He’d barely stirred, and I passed out pretty quickly thereafter.

I sit up and the sham that was draped over me falls over the side of the bed. I check my watch, still on my wrist. It was past 7. A solid 4.5 hours—that was a restful night for me ever since I took this case on.

Harry must have carried me to bed, I realize. And I’d been dead to the world while he did.

I never expected to see him again after that taxi ride. Until a few weeks later, he was waiting for me in the courthouse lobby. He’d looked me up, saw I had a case that morning, and waited. It was his last week in San Francisco and he wanted to take me on a date. He hadn’t stopped thinking about me, he’d said. I hadn’t either.

I’d dated plenty before him, had several boyfriends, even a situationship. Harry was the first guy I ever felt relaxed around. From that first date he made sure I felt cared for, that I was happy—he was unafraid to put me first. Even when he had to go back to London and we were long distance for three and a half months, we were always talking.

I’d felt unwanted before. Those were the days I chased after boys that only liked me for doing the chasing. Never did they actually want me. Because when they got me, they’d leave and keep me chasing them forever. Harry had never once been shy about the fact that he wanted me. That he chose me over everything.

We were always running towards each other. Never after each other.

I blink away the sleepiness and notice Harry had put me in a tshirt. It was the little things.

That’s when I hear the voices coming from downstairs. Harry…and my mom.

It was time to get up.

“Good morning princess,” my mom spots me first. I looked bad this morning—even though Harry had attempted to take my makeup off whenever he’d taken me to bed, and replaced my slacks for shorts, I still had craters for eye bags and a tangled bedhead, and dehydrated and inflamed skin from sleeping with makeup. But mom never stopped calling me princess.

“Harry and I were just making pancakes,” she points to the griddle behind her. God, mom loved Harry. It was weird because she’d only ever met 2 of my boyfriends since I started dating as a teen. She hated both of them and was never shy about it. All the others she’d heard about over the phone or a late night snack at her house back when she lived close to where I worked. She hated them all equally. “We’re worried you’re not eating enough.”

I catch eyes with Harry, it was a constant argument with us. But it was hard to eat with a regular appetite when I was so close to the end of big cases. He knew that. He used my mom as a shield to push his own agenda, they worked as a team like that.

But it never made me mad. It was more caring than any ex had ever been.

“Pancakes are your favourite,” Harry says while towel-drying his hands. He’d been ‘washing up’, as he would say with his accent.

“They are,” I say as he walks around the island to me and kisses my cheek. He was always weirdly chaste around my mom, nothing like his behaviour late nights in bed.

Mom grins at me from behind him. She was obsessed.

So was I though.

“Let’s eat!” Mom says. “C’mon, we gotta eat before they get cold. Y/N grab the fruit behind you.”

“Sure mom,” I grab the bowl she prepared. Harry watches mom leave the kitchen with the pancakes and syrup. As soon as she’s out of sight he tugs me right against him.

“Y’know you don’t have to wait for her to leave to be my boyfriend?”

“Is that what I am?” He nuzzles my neck. “I thought I was just your boy-toy.”

“Nah,” I let him kiss me even though we’re both smiling. “My boy-toy’s like, 5 years younger than you are.”

“Yeah well, he’s not the one trying to take your makeup off at 5am while you talk about invoices and flash drives.”

“Oops,” I must have been talking about our smoking gun in my sleep. I couldn’t even rest unconscious. “Thank you for that. You could have left me on the couch.”

“Maybe if I was your boy-toy. But I’m your strong English boyfriend, I take you to bed.”

“And you do it so well,” I pat his arm condescendingly, stealing one more kiss before skirting away. I leave him chuckling in the kitchen and gathering the coffee for breakfast.

Before Harry, I didn’t realize love could be so selfless. That it didn’t have to hurt all the time. That one person could be enough.

“Y/N?” Mom asks. “What do you think?”

“Huh?” I’d gotten lost in thought and I see Harry smirk. I guess I was just staring at him.

“For your dad’s birthday coming up?!” She sighs. “I’ve been talking about his dinner—Harry said he has to go back to London the week before. I thought we could do a birthday dinner early so Harry can be there. You know your dad would like that.”

He would. My dad was just as keen on Harry, telling me that he was good for me—the way a man should be. Those were his exact words.

I remember I’d been confused at first when Harry and I started long-distance dating. He was more stable and consistent than relationships I’d had where we lived inches apart. Being long-distance, I’d only missed him physically when we were apart, he was still there for me in every other way.

When he officially transferred to his San Francisco office 5 months ago, he had surprised me. I remember opening my door to him standing there with flowers and macarons—my favourite dessert. I’d nearly smashed them all when I screamed and threw myself onto him.

After that moment I knew I was done with romanticizing dysfunction and compromising. His love was healthy and pure, and it was for me.

I tried my best to give that to him in return. Lately I’d been a bad girlfriend working long hours and barely seeing him. But I’d make it up to him. He didn’t know this but I’d booked the same flight to London with him, that’s why mom was trying to move dad’s birthday dinner up. So I’d be there too.

“Sounds great,” I say. “That way we can all make it.”

“Perfect I’ll make us a reservation.” Mom picks up her phone and begins typing on it with one finger, one key at a time. She tsks, “Oh why is it doing this now.”

“Here Mrs. Y/l/n,” Harry holds his hand out. “What are you trying to do.”

“This new update has been driving me crazy,” she hand her phone to Harry. He glances at me and we bite back a smile. Mom was notorious for being Bad at Technology. But Harry was always patient and tried teaching her.

“The search bar’s on the bottom now,” Harry shows her. “That’s where you type it in.”

“It was fine at the top why do they always have to move it around, gah I’ll just do this on a computer.”

“Yeah no rush mom,” I say.

“Well I’ll clear the table now. I need to get going soon I have a squash game at half eight.”

“Yeah I need be in by then.” Court opened at 9:30 today and I had to be there a half hour early to submit what we had.

“You two stay here,” mom begins piling plates. She’s surprisingly strong when she snatches the mug Harry’s trying to take away himself. “Let me clean up. Then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Thanks for the breakfast mom!” I shout as she heads away. Harry echoes a thank you.

“Don’t thank me,” I hear her mumble as she walks away.

Me and Harry are left grinning at each other. He holds his hand out on the table and I clasp his.

“Your mum’s sweet.”

“My mum,” I tease him. I keep his hand held as I go around the table to his seat. He tugs me down onto his lap. “Did you actually call your mom mummy as a kid?”

“Did you call your mum mommy?” Harry asks in a decent American accent.

“Maybe,” I smile.

“Maybe.” He replies.

“I’ll just ask your mum when I meet her someday.”

“She really does want to meet you.” He says seriously. “She thinks I’m deliberately keeping you away.”

“Maybe you are, so she can’t answer all the burning questions I have about you.”

“I can just imagine you and her teaming up against me. My sister will join in too.”

I’d met his sister a few months back when she visited. We hit it on immediately just like Harry and I had. It was a bit of a relief.

“I can’t wait to swap stories over breakfast with your mom.”

“Oh you’d love her breakfast,” Harry smiles fondly. I feel a twinge then, sometimes I wondered if he ever got homesick. Especially when he talked about memories from home. “She does the best English breakfast. You’d have to try black pudding though.”

I crinkle my nose, “Isn’t that the one with the blood?”

“Mmmm it sure is,” he grips my hips and a shiver shoots up my spine.

“Gross! Why would anyone eat that? Or your-what’s that other pudding thing? The one you tried making last winter that’s all puffy-“

“Yorkshire.” He smiles.

“You literally poured hot oil on your mixture. It’s clogging my pores just thinking about it.”

“That’s it. You’re coming to London before the year is over and you’re going to be begging for more when you have a proper roast. What I made at home was a pathetic attempt.”

“Mmm I don’t get it.” I wrap my arms around his neck. “I just don’t get English food. It’s like people who wear crocs, or golf on TV, I don’t get it.”

“You just descibed,” Harry tucks my hair behind my ear, “the perfect date. We’re sorted for the weekend.”

I laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“But I love you.” I kiss him. He pulls me back to him when I part.

“I love you.”

“I really do need a shower before I head in though,” I remind him.

“Maybe I’ll join you,” he says low enough so my mom can’t hear.

“If you’re brave enough with mom still here.” I tease.

“Okay hon,” she pops out of nowhere. “I’m heading out. Good luck with court today.”

“Thanks mom.” I get up and give her a big squeeze. “I appreciate you dropping by.”

“Of course. And I’ll drop dinner by tonight I saw the state of your fridge, you should clean that thing out y/n.”

“Yess mom,” I roll my eyes. Harry snickers behind me. Mom should see his fridge, it was half beer cans and takeout containers.

While mom tells Harry about the dinner she would drop by for us I get a headstart on my shower. It was already quarter to 8 and I couldn’t waste any more time.

Harry joins me shortly after, he lowers my hands when he gets in and washes my hair slowly with care. I nearly pass out in the shower with how good his fingers feel on my scalp.

“Thank you,” I turn to him after I wash it out.

“Don’t mention it love,” he kisses my temple.

“Harry,” I suddenly feel choked up. I think his scalp massage had unblocked some chakra stuff because I’m suddenly overwhelmed with feeling.

“What?” He tilts my face up.

“I’m just…I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”

“Nonsense.” He swipes my tear away even though the stream of water makes it all the same.

“No I…I never thought I’d meet someone like you. I used to think love was hurting. It doesn’t make sense anymore-“

“Like golf on TV.”

“Yeah,” I laugh and it breaks up the knot in my throat. “Yeah like golf on TV. Now being in love feels like soccer-“

“Football.”

“Soccer,” I correct him. He grins. “It makes sense to me.”

“If you didn’t have work in 30 minutes,” Harry pulls me into him and crushes me against him. It feels good, like being held together. “You’d be face down in bed in the next 10 seconds.”

“Where’s this Harry when my mom’s around.” I tease.

“This Harry’s just for you.” He says just as he turns the shower off. I draw away as he grabs us some towels and I watch him with an unbreakable joy; if it was physical it could illuminate this tiled shower and bounce around the whole room.

He was the reason I got through all these gruelling hours for court. Because I knew I had someone waiting for me, that I could steal an hour away with, and it would leave me refuelled enough for another 24 hour work-day.

“Why are you smiling at me like that,” Harry asks as he hands me the towel. I shake my head and wrap it around me. He watches as I blow dry my hair, kissing my shoulder when I’m done.

“I’ll leave when you leave. Should I drop you off to the office?”

“Please?” I ask. “That’d give me an extra 5 minutes.”

His face lights up.

“No,” I say as he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder. “No Harry I have to be early!”

“I only need 2,” he says as he launches me onto the bed. “Maybe 3.”

I pretend to be annoyed but I inch up in bed as he makes his way over and I can’t think of a better way to spend the extra 5 minutes. Or 10. Oops.

If the old me ever met the new me, she’d probably try to stop me. She didn’t know what love could look like. That it could be a gentle smile, a drive in to work, making sure you’re eating, helping your mom out with her phone, or washing your hair for you in the shower.

I’d tell her—the old me, that it was as simple as this: I wanted him, only him. And he wanted me too.

[lees-chaotic-brain]

this is for your event 🗣️🗣️

here me out.. gojo fic abt the song tell your girlfriend by lay banks. something like having a crush on gojo and he likes reader too but reader and gojo are with other people. idc who readers boyfriend is🫣

WC: 1.7k

CW: alcohol consumption (all characters of age), swearing, cheating (see above ask for details), female pronouns (reader referred to as girlfriend), not beta read AT ALL, reader is a bit of a crybaby lol

Note: thanks for sending an ask in emi!!! also, this song is fire i was literally jamming the entire time i was writing. also, sorry if you wanted this to be more true to the vibe of the song. i kind of interpreted it my own way and rolled with it lmao

listen to this while reading

Event Guide | Event Masterlist | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

You loved your boyfriend, right? You had only been dating four months, but you wouldn’t have dated someone if you didn’t have feelings for him. Sure, he could be a little aloof, and a little rude, but he had his moments when he was sweet and caring. So why did you find yourself thinking of someone else?

During the day when the sun was out and you were thinking rationally you could convince yourself that you truly cared for him, but at night under the low lighting of the bar all bets were off. When you were a few shots past tipsy and your thinking was slowed, why did another face keep coming to mind.? 

Initially, I wouldn't do this

Hennessy pourin' and shit gettin' fluid

And you never intended to cheat. And you definitely never intended to fall for your best friend who was also dating someone else. But when you spent time with him, or when he shot a flirtatious wink from across the room he ignited a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. A swarm of butterflies that went into hibernation when you were around your boyfriend.

You knew it was wrong, that you shouldn’t feel the way you did, but with the heavy beat of the bass coursing through you and cognac warming your insides your traitorous heart finally decided what it was Gojo Satoru made you feel. Desire. And…love. Oh shit, that wasn’t good.

Suddenly feeling a bit ill, you waved your concerned friend off and staggered outside to get some fresh air. Taking deep gulps of fresh air, you stepped into an alley to get some privacy so you could collect your thoughts. You wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to ward off the chill of the night seeping through the thin fabric of your clothes.

As you stand there shivering, your thoughts are interrupted by a warm jacket being wrapped around your shoulders. Spinning around, you find yourself face to face with the one person you absolutely did not want to see at the moment. Confronted by the appearance of your best friend, you can’t help but start crying. It’s stupid, you know, but as soon as you lay eyes on him the shock of your realization wears off and your emotions kick in.

“Oh my god, hey, are you okay?” He panics, grabbing your shoulders and peering into your face concerned. “Why are you crying? What’s wrong??”

His care only serves to make you cry harder. Why? Why did he have to be like this? Couldn’t he just be a bad friend and ignore you? It would be so much easier that way. Unsure what to do, he pulls you into a hug, patting you on the back.

“Hey. It’s okay. I got you. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” You can't take it anymore. You both are dating other people, and you are definitely finding too much comfort in his arms. Pushing him away, you avert your gaze.

“You, okay? You’re my problem. Can you just leave me alone please?”

His brow furrows. “What do you mean ‘me?’ Did I do something? Also, I’m not leaving you outside by yourself at this time of night. Please, can’t you just talk to me? Whatever I did I-”

“I just realized I’m in love with you, okay?!” Your voice rings out in the stillness of the alley, and you clap your hands over your mouth, horrified. “Wait, I-”

You’re cut off by him gently taking your face in his hands and slotting his lips against yours. The kiss is soft and sweet; filled with years of longing and suppressed feelings pouring from each of you. It feels like home. It feels like love. It feels right, but you know it isn’t. Pushing him back, you stare at him wide-eyed, your chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

“What…what was that?”

We was just friends, but then came in Cupid

The tension was buildin', we had to pursue it

“I like you too.” He blurts in lieu of answering your question. Then he pauses and corrects himself. “Actually I’m in love with you. I have been for a while. I just didn’t think you felt the same.”

Unsure of what to do or say, you just start laughing, because the two of you were idiots. You were best friends who supposedly knew everything about each other. Except for the fact that you were each in love with the other, apparently. Oh my god you were in love with your best friend and he was in love with you. Your laughter became tinged with hysteria as you remembered that you had a boyfriend and he had a girlfriend. 

Tears filled your waterline. “Oh my god Toru what are we doing? I have a boyfriend!! And you have a girlfriend! We can’t be doing this…”

“Why not?” He gently cups your face in his palms and brushes your tears away with his thumbs. “Break up with your boyfriend. Be with me. My girlfriend isn’t a problem. She’s known about my feelings for you from the start. She’s in love with someone else too and we’ve just been using each other as a distraction. There’s nothing in our way.”

Standing in that alley with his vivid blue eyes on yours, you couldn’t help but believe him. What if he was right. What if the two of you really were meant to be?”

What it's been with us this whole time

Taking a deep breath, you step back, and out of his reach. If you were going to think about this rationally, you couldn’t be so close to him. You push your hair back out of your eyes and tilt your head back. He watches you from where he is, knowing that you need space to sort out your emotions and thoughts. After a few minutes you turn back to him.

“Alright. The first thing I’m going to do is break up with my boyfriend and apologize. After that, I’m not sure. I don’t want to make you any promises, because I’m not really sure of anything. The only thing I know is that I won’t be able to live with myself if I don't break up with him, because he doesn’t deserve to be hurt or deceived. Okay?”

“That’s fine.” Satoru says simply, looking at you with so much affection it hurts. “I’ve waited for you so long, a little while longer isn’t going to do me any harm.”

Your eyes soften. “Thanks. Now, I’m going to head back in, okay?” He steps aside, allowing you to pass. Heading back into the party, you feel nauseous, but you head up to your boyfriend.

Because if you ever want to be with Satoru, your relationship can’t start with deception.

'Cause I don't wanna live a lie, lie, lie

An hour and one extremely difficult conversation later found you sitting on a park bench with your head in your hands crying. Surprisingly, your now ex-boyfriend had been very understanding and kind about it. While he was clearly hurt and holding back tears, he had told you that he just wanted you to be happy, and that he was okay with it.

After reassuring you that he wasn’t angry, he hugged you one last time, wished you well, and walked away. Unable to stop crying, you were overwhelmed by a sense of relief, but at the same time guilt. So you had told your boyfriend. What now?

Should tell my boyfriend what I been doin'

The weeks after your breakup were tough. You told Satoru you needed time to yourself, because even though you logically knew that you shouldn’t feel bad, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of guilt. You felt like if you started dating him now, it would be unfair to your ex, and that you should at least wait a little while.

You also discussed the matter of his girlfriend, and decided that it was okay for him to remain with her until you were ready, as the two of them were friends and he was helping her make her crush jealous. You didn’t mind him helping her, especially since you were making him wait and overcomplicating things.

You told Gojo as much, and decided that for the time being the two of you would remain friends until you were ready. You just needed a little time to figure yourself out. But you knew that you wanted to be with him. Just not right that second.

Took a break, had to focus on some me time

We can keep it low-key for the meantime

A couple months passed, and you went on with your life. Everything was normal, and you tried to push your thought of Satoru away, preferring to procrastinate on talking to him as long as possible. 

Until one night, when you were cleaning your room and found a box of photos from your high school days with him. Going through them, you felt a sense of nostalgia, and affection. And suddenly you missed him. You missed him so bad it hurt. You needed him by your side, and you needed him as more than a friend.

Hit by this revelation, you sat there for a moment, stunned, before leaping up and grabbing your car keys. Driving well above the speed limit, you rushed to his house and banged on his door. Was it sometime after midnight? Yes. Did you really care? No.

You heard his groggy voice say something about waiting one moment, then the door swung open. And there he stood, right in front of you in all his sleepy glory. But as soon as his eyes landed on you they widened and all traces of sleep disappeared from them.

“[Y/N]! What are you doing here? It’s-” You interrupt him, tears already pouring down your face as you beam up at him.

“I love you. I’m ready to be your girlfriend now.”

Go tell your girlfriend that I'm your girlfriend (oh, oh)

[sophswritingthings]

i see how busy you are and i dont wanna spam your inbox but as the dream request anon i just wanted to say i saw the part 2 you did and ugh youve got me hooked onto this idea it has not left my mind. again i dont want to make you even busier but if you ever want to write another part where whatever ringo was gonna say is said and reader finds out about mizus dream and feelings. i will be sat immediately (but of course take your time, ive seen your posts saying how many requests youve got to go through and other things you have to deal with!)

pairing: mizu x fem!reader

warning(s): light swearing

a/n: OUGHHHHH I honestly love writing theseeee

summary: the truth comes out about mizu’s dream and her feelings for you.

word count: 361 words / 1,972 characters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“(y/n).. why don’t you just..” ringo murmured, gazing at you with a confused expression, “nows your chance.”

you sigh, adverting you’re gaze from mizu.

“okay—okay,” you mumble. “why.. don’t we take a walk, mizu?”

she stares at you with wide eyes through her glasses, giving you the smallest of nods.

“just.. stay here for a moment, ringo,” mizu murmured, following you as you walked deeper into the town.

“he was going to tell you my feelings for you, mizu.” you whisper, “or at least, tell me to tell you, finally.”

“.. finally?” she repeated the word, surprised by the meaning it held.

you chuckle, “yes. I’ve probably had feelings for you since the day I meet you.”

it was silent, for a moment, between the two of you—thinking of the right words to say.

“.. as have I, I believe. I’m not one with feelings.” she replied, adverting her gaze.

“I know that,” you smile a little, reaching over to gently clasp her hand.

her thumb rubs over your soft skin, feeling her face swell up with red.

“.. I had a dream,” she mumbled. “It was the first time I’ve slept so well since I was just a child.”

your raise an eyebrow, “about.. me..?” you gasp a little, “you had a dream about me?”

she sighs, “yes. I did. don’t say it again—you’re making this worse.”

you giggle, nodding, “okay, okay,” you smile. “what.. happened in it?”

she paused, holding both of your hands, “we were married.. and.. happy, together.” she began, gazing into your deep brown eyes.

“.. did.. this happen?” 

you step toward her, pressing a gentle, tender kiss to her lips. her eyes widen, before closing and letting her hand grasp your hair gently.

you pushed a few kisses against her lips, before pulling back with a tender smile.

“.. it did.” she whispered, “but it wasn’t as good.” 

she pulls you back into a kiss, her hands gently playing with your hair.

you were her girl. you always would be. you would always been the one she would dream of at night, the one who made sleeping easy. 

that, she was sure, would never change.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: lover by taylor swift fits this, me thinks