#thoughts over ☕ (coffee)

[spilled-coffee-cup]

Asexuality is kinda like my superpower 'cause wym you'll forgive everything just because you want to fuck them?!?!?.. Nah Nah I'm taking that shit to my grave I ain't forgiving nothin

[matryosika]

Hyung Line: Love Languages and Sex

Wordcount: 5,467 words.

Genre: Smut, partly head canons and scenarios.

Includes: SKZ Hyung Line members, female reader, brief discussion about food in Minho's scenario, curse words and dirty dialogues. Smut warnings below.

Author's note: Long time no see! I just randomly thought about this yesterday, and I had a couple of scenario/drabbles I wanted to write about regarding this topic so here they are. I thought about uploading them individually, but I don't know. I'm currently working in the second part of this, so yeah. Thought I would just put this out there for now. I hope you guys like it! Please remember that english isn't my first language and this is not proof-read so I apologize for any mistake in advance.

If you like this, please consider supporting me by reblogging, leaving a comment or sending me an ask. If you wish to support my work further, please consider buying me a coffee! ☕

Smut warnings (varies from scenario to scenario): Masturbation (f. receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, praises, use of petnames, established relationship, foot massage (for Minho's part), public sex (for Changbin's scenario), body cumshot (for Hyunjin's scenario), vaginal penetrative sex, unprotected sex, implied creampie (for Changbin's scenario).

Chan: Acts of Service and Words of Affirmation

“One more?”

When you told Chan you were feeling stressed, you didn't exactly expect him to try and cheer you up like this —face buried in your sweet, throbbing cunt, and hands intertwined with yours. You have been going at it for hours on end, with no signs of Chan ever wanting to stop —not even after your third orgasm.

“Channie…” You want to tell him it's his turn, that you also want to make him feel good. That you need to help him releasing the tension between his legs, make him come just as much as he has made you tonight.

But you can’t even begin to deliver a coherent sentence, or at least not when his nose is applying the perfect amount of pressure to your clit while his tongue laps messily on your slit, his spit and your own wetness creating a sticky, awkward sensation that reminds you of all the time Chan had spent working on your cunt in the past hour or two.

“Mhm?” He knows you’re too fucked out you can’t even speak, but the devilish grin plastered on his face tells you that he wants to listen to you. Or at least your babbles. “What is it, baby?”

“Chan,” you latch your hands onto his dark locks, pulling them harshly and earning a hiss from him. “Chan, please!”

You don't have to tell him exactly what you want for him to know. The way you grind your hips against his face sells you out —Chan knows you need more than just his mouth, and he is more than happy to comply.

If you ask for it, of course.

“Greedy,” he laughs under his breath, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your cunt. “Come one more time for me, and I’ll consider giving you what you want”.

A fair exchange, you think. But when the ravages of over-stimulation start hitting you painfully than before, you highly doubt you can fulfill his plea.

“I can’t,” you gasp with shortness of breath, hands leaving Chan’s to clinge at the bedsheets underneath you. “Chan, fuck, wait!”

The last thing you want is for Chan to stop, but the words fall from your lips faster than you can process them. So he withdraws from your pussy and stares at you with half-lidded eyes, swollen lips and chin glistening with your arousal.

“No! Don’t- don’t stop, I’m sorry”.

You’re not making any sense, and he loves it.

“Am I hurting you?”

You shake your head eagerly, swallowing hard while you take advantage of the break to take a breath. “No, it’s just- I’m- I want to please you”.

Chan smiles.

“I have to take care of you first,” he mumbles, lips attached to flesh of your inner thighs. “Want to make you come enough until your mind is completely empty”.

“But I-”

“Tonight isn’t about me, okay?” he drags his words lazily, humming and slightly whimpering them when he rubs his nose yet again against your clit. “I need to make sure you’re not feeling stressed anymore”.

You plop down onto the bed again, hands gripping his curls while unconsciously bringing him closer to your core.

“See, I know you can come one more time,” Chan whispers against your pussy, two of his fingers spreading your folds while he coats them with your previous arousal, “you’re always good to me like that”.

You buck your hips when he unexpectedly thrusts his middle and ring finger inside you, walls welcoming and clenching around them so tightly Chan almosts come right in his pants.

“3 orgasms are not enough for someone like you, hm?” he fucks you delicately, enjoying the wet sounds your cunt makes every time he sinks his fingers inside you, “you still want more”.

You cover your face in shyness, only letting out small whimpers and moans every time he curls his fingers.

“Don’t,” his available hand, which he has underneath your right thigh and the curve of your ass, reaches out to pull both your arms, causing you to uncover your face, “I want to see you when I’m talking to you”.

He grabs both your wrists with his available hand, while the other works wonders on your cunt. From where you lay, the sight is heavenly —you can catch a glimpse of his flexed shoulders and back, along with his bare face and messy, dark curls. You could reach your fourth orgasm just by that alone, but Chan has other plans in mind.

“You’re so sweet,” he’s practically groaning his words, licking remains of your orgasms from his lips, “I don’t ever want to go a day without tasting you, ever”.

You moan at his words, heart racing faster than it was before. He has always had a way with words —ever since you two met, he has always known exactly what to say to have you at his feet, mercilessly.

“Channie,” you cry out loud, head falling back as your back arches in pleasure. “Chan!”

“Come on,” he drags his swollen lips against your hip bone and the side of your tummy, inhaling deeply the scent of your skin while the room is filled with wet, lewd noises, “I can feel you’re close, I know you can take one more”.

There’s no point in trying to hold back, so you start letting yourself go.

“All day I’ve been thinking about your sweet cunt,” the more he talks, the rougher he fucks you with his fingers and the closer you get to your release, “you’re all I fucking need. I don’t want anything else but you”.

You melt with love, tears threating to spill from the corners of your eyes. There’s something enticing about the contrast between his words and his touch, how he can say the sweetest, purest and loving things while his fingers keep on fucking your pussy with no tenderness, exactly how you like it.

“I just want to show you off to everyone,” Chan continues, feeling the wetness around his fingers starting to increase, word by word. “Want to tell everyone how pretty you look like this, how proud I am to have you with me”.

“F-fuck,” you’re coming, he can tell. The way your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, and your hips spasm against his hand sells you out.

“That’s it,” he moans, the raspiness of his voice sending shivers down your spine. “Give it to me, I know you can”.

He continues fucking your cunt through your orgasm, not daring to stop even when drops of your arousal wet his hand and bed.

“Stay still, baby,” with his available arm, he holds you down and pins you against the bed, preventing you from closing your legs or get away from his touch, “make a mess, I want to lick it clean”.

Minho: Acts of Service and Physical Touch

Minho is naturally a giver.

Sure, he does love being on the receiving end from time to time, but really nothing gratifies him more than taking care of you, in every way you should be taken care of.

Whether it’s taking a chore off your hands when you’re exhausted, running an errand to save you time on a busy day, or picking up take out and medicine when you’re feeling down, one of Minho’s ways to show you love it’s by performing acts of services.

Hence that, you’re not surprised to come home tonight with a full home-cooked dinner, with dessert and all.

“Hope you’re starving,” your boyfriend welcomes you, still wearing an apron on top of his work outfit. Black, formal pants and a white shirt with rolled sleeves, “It’s your favorite, by the way”. 

Earlier today, he called you to ask you for a quick grocery shopping list, in case you had some things missing from your fridge. Apparently, he was going to be released early from work, so he had some spare time before meeting you at your place and he could stop by for the things you needed..

“My head is all over the place,” you admitted, hands brushing through your hair in frustration, “I’m sorry Min, I completely forgot to leave the grocery list you told me. And I’m not even sure what’s missing- probably the whole fucking fridge is empty”.

He could tell how busy and exhausted you had been over the past few weeks, so he came up with a plan.

“I can come to your place and do the list myself,” he proposed by the phone. “Then I’ll go to the supermarket and pick the food and stuff you need, yeah? I’ll return to your place at night, and we can unwind together. Is that okay?”

You thanked him, probably a million times, before hanging up and going through with your day.

When he sits at the table with you, you finally get a taste of the dish. As expected, is more than just delicious. It’s a whole fucking experience, especially because it was made just for you.

You two eat together and help each other cleaning the kitchen afterwards. When you're done, with a comfy outfit and while having another glass of red wine, Minho suggests he does a massage on you because you look tense.

“What a nice, elegant sex proposal,” you laugh, extending your legs on top of his while you are sitting in the couch.

“I never said anything about sex,” Minho tiltes his head, the tip of his digits grazing against your skin. “So who’s proposing that to who?”

“You know, I could use a massage,” you leave the glass of wine on top of the coffee table, and let your body slowly slide into the couch. “I’m not sure about the sex part. I don’t know if I could ride you with how fucking sore my legs are, but I can make it up to you during the weekend”.

Minho laughs, a genuine, heart-warming laugh.

“We don’t have to fuck tonight,” his hands and digits trail an immaginary path from your feet, to your ankles, to your knees and inner thighs. The touch is enough to get you wet, and you curse him mentally for that, “but I still want to make you come, at least once”.   

Sometimes, you really can't begin to comprehend how Minho is all that. Attractive, smart, hard-working and just… perfect in every aspect, including sex.

“I’m so embarrassed,” you admit, moaning softly when his hands start working on the soles of your feet. It’s certainly not a massage massage, but rather a compilation of soft and lustful touches, “I really want to make things up to you but I’m a mess right now, there’s a lot going on at work and-”

“Hey,” he interrupts you, caressing the sides of your feet while working on them. “I’m not complaining nor asking for anything in return, am I?”

He isn’t.

And he is also not the type to expect some sort of payment for a favor.

Minho loves like that¸ without expecting absolutely nothing in return except for your satisfacion.

“But-”

“Am I?”

“No,” you softly reply, more as a whimper than an actual response. He is still massaging your feet and ankles, slowly growing harder at the series of moans and hisses you’re letting out.

“Why don’t you tell me where you keep your vibrator?” You love how it’s a casual question, how you no longer grow timid when he asks stuff like that. You are a couple, and he knows way more about you and your private life than anyone else. “Let’s put it to use tonight, hm?”

“Nightstand, second drawer,” you immediately sigh, losing the warmth of his body when he stands up from the couch to go to said location —the nightstand, second drawer.

He comes back not even 2 minutes later, holding the hot pink item to his hand. He sits right next to you, inviting you to spread your legs for him while he pushes your underwear and pijama shorts to the side.

A proud smile peeps out of the corners of his lips, knowing he did absolutely nothing but you’re still dripping wet, underwear and clothes sticking to your folds.

“You weren’t sure about the sex part?” he hums in content, caressing your slit with the tip of the toy. “Honey, you’re body is begging for me to fuck it”.

You arch your back unexpectedly when he turns on the toy, digging it further against your clit. He motions for you to take care of the toy, guiding your wrist to it in order to have both of his hands free and available to caress you, grope you and kiss you as he pleases.

“It’s really good,” you moan, masturbating for him while his hands reach out to your breasts, massaging them and pinching your nipples. “It’s not as good as your cock, but it does the task. I should get a better toy”.

Minho laughs against your skin, tongue latched to one of your hardened buds. His right hand wanders along the side of your body, caressing your waist, hips and thighs as much as he wants.

“You know nothing compares to me,” Minho whimpers against your skin, his hips grinding ever so slightly against your spread thighs. “But it’s cute that you’re still willing to try and find something that could compete against me”.

You bury your right hand onto his dark hair, pulling him closer to you, if possible, while your left hand holds the wand against your cunt.

The more he touches you and kisses you, the closer you get to your orgasm. And pathetically close, at that, since you’ve only been doing this for roughly 3 minutes.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed your body these days,” Minho groans, peppering kisses on your chest and neck while his hand sneaks between your ass and the couch. He squeezes and gropes it harshly, making you move your hips a bit up to give him better access. “Just want to cover it all with my kisses, lick it and touch it how you like it”.

Minho buries his face on your neck, and starts kissing your skin sloppily while his right hand is still groping your body. He doesn’t care about being messy —in fact, that’s exactly what he is going for tonight.

“Don’t stop,” you babble, grinding your hips against the toy while Minho’s lips and hands are all over you. “Don’t stop, Min, please, don’t-”

When you’re just a second away from your arousal, Minho places his hand on top of yours and presses the vibrator against your clit more, forcing you to orgasm faster. “Don’t worry,” he groans near your ear, face still buried in the crook of your neck, “I won’t stop until you’re satisfied”.

Changbin: Words of Affirmation and Gifts

“What do you think?”

Changbin has to take a full minute in order to arrange his own thoughts. If he had to say what he actually thinks of that dress, he would earn a couple of disgusted faces from the rest of the people at the boutique.

“Good,” it’s all he manages to say, slyly leaning forward to hide his bulge, “let me pay for it and let’s go home”.

“I’m still not done, though,” there’s a bunch of clothes you wish to try, and you know that doesn’t impatient Changbin –he is a great shopping partner. But judged by his lustful gaze, you think he has changed his plans, “I’ll be quick, I promise”.

He isn’t mad, nor wants to rush you, but Changbin wonders how long it’s going to take for him to lose his sanity before he gets to fuck you in the very same dress you just tried on. It hugs your body just right, allowing you to show just the right amount of skin to drive him crazy.

“Shit, I don’t know about this one,” you murmur from inside, just a long curtain separating you from Changbin, who is currently sitting at a small couch placed strategically in front of the fitting rooms, “I don’t think this is my size”.

Before he could ponder the situation, the pros and cons of demanding a small, modeling catwalk from you, he asks you to show the dress to him.

“It’s too tight,” you complain, struggling to zip it up, “one wrong move and I- I’m going to flash everyone in here”.

“Let me see it,” he asks again, impatiently looking forward to watching the curtain slide back, revealing you.

“I don’t- I look weird,” the dress is not your style, nor it’s something you would wear out on any occasion. You thought it would be fun to try it on, see if you could get out of your comfort zone, but it escalated too quick. “It’s too much, it barely covers anything”.

It’s not intentional, but you’re practically edging Changbin with your words. The longer you drag it out, the whiner he gets.

“Alright, alright,” you finally exhale, your hand pushing the curtain separating you from his gaze out of the way, “but don’t fucking say anything”.

Even if he wanted to say something, he can’t even speak. His throat is dry, aching just as much as the throbbing pressure between his legs that demands for his whole attention.

After some excruciating, awkward moments in silence, you speak again.

“Okay, say something,” the lack of words from him is making you feel unsteady, because he is just staring right at you quietly. You can’t possibly now what’s going on in his mind. “I told you it doesn’t fit and it is too damn expensive, and the fabric is -”.

“Get that one too,” it’s not a question, nor an advice –it’s an order.

“It’s too exp-”

“I don’t care,” the pent up tension is making it seem as if he’s angry, but you know he isn’t –he is just too damn horny, and needy, and desperate to get home and fuck you in every position possible.

“Alright,” you nod, feeling your heart skipping a beat when Changbin’s intimidating gaze falls up on you, basically begging for you to be done. “I’ll just… take it off and we can- go home, yeah?”

You go back to the fitting room with a wet sensation between your legs, feeling your folds sticking to your underwear while you relentlessly try to take the dress off. It had been hard to put it on, but you underestimated how difficult it was going to be to take it off on your own.

“Bin?” you ask, “is someone there who… could help me?”

Changbin looks around, but there’s no one other than him. Not even the lady who manages the changing room and checks which clothes people are trying on is there.

“There’s no one here,” the dark-haired replies, standing from the couch with more confidence now that he knows no one can spot the bulge in his pants, “what do you need?”

You shyly push the curtains to the side yet again, revealing the now messy dress after your failed attempt to take it off. “Can you help me?”

You turn around, putting the back zipper on display for him. It’s rather an easy task, he just needs to pull it down.

But how easy can it be when all he can pay attention to is your ass, and how good it looks underneath that tight dress? The clothes are so tight he can catch a glimpse of the silhouette of your underwear, buried in the flesh of your arse.

“Please?”

He doesn’t helps you unziping it and, instead, pushes you inside the fitting room again, closing the curtain behind him as he is sure the area is completely empty, except for the two of you.

“I can’t,” he breathes, turning you around so that your hands lay on his chest. “I don’t want you to take it off”.

“I have to if you want to buy it for me, silly,” you’re teasing him, acting oblivious to his sudden reaction. “Quick, don’t want anyone to catch us together in here”.

“I want to fuck you while you’re wearing it,” he confesses, his lips so close to yours you can actually feel his breath caressing your chin. “I want to fuck you right here, so you can see how pretty you look”.

You would be lying if you said you’re not turned on, not even in the slightest. But your hardened nipples and wet underwear speak louder than you can.

“Please,” he begs, hands moving slowly from your waist to your ass, groping it while pulling you closer to him. “Please let me fuck you”.

The more he pulls you towards him, the more you can feel his throbbing, hard cock against your body. You are probably going to regret your decision, but you still give in.

You need him more than he does.

“If someone catches us…”

“They won’t,” Changbin groans, lifting your dress up with one hand while the other unbuckles his pants with a swift motion, “just keep your pretty mouth shut and I’ll take care of the rest, yeah?”

It seems like he isn't asking for a lot, but he is. How can you possibly keep your mouth shut when his raw cock is about to stretch your pussy?

He turns you around, your palms resting on the wall for support while his nimble hands place you in the perfect position for him: back arched, ass up and legs open. Really, how can you possibly keep your mouth shut when the tip of his thick cock slides against your slit?

He knows time is running out, so he doesn’t waste it –he sinks his hips against yours delicately, only to pick up the pace when he feels you getting used to his cock.

“You drive me fucking insane,” he groans against your shoulders, leaving wet, sloppy pecks that soon turn into love bites. “You’re just- too pretty- can’t keep my hands off of you”.

You moan at his words, sounds that are quickly muffled by one of his hands against your mouth.

“So- fucking beautiful,” his words come out choppy, but he manages to keep the volume of his voice down, unlike you. “You're just too good to be real and mine”.

The sound of your muffled whines, Changbin’s soft groans, skin hitting skin and the wetness of your cunt around his cock is what fills the whole fitting room. You’re wondering if someone can hear you two, but you really don’t care anymore.

 “You’re so tight,” he can’t get himself to stop. The urge to praise you and compliment you is the exactly the same as coming inside you, he is really desperate for both and judged by the way you squeeze his dick everytime he speaks, he knows you like it too. “Perfectly made for my cock”.

The rougher he pounds himself inside you, the more you lose balance and control of your own body. Your cheek is against the wall, your weak arms barely doing anything to support your body, but his grip around you is what keeps you stable.

“I’m going to fill you up, yeah?” he is not that far from his arousal, and neither are you. “I want to show you how much I love you”.

You nod eagerly against his palm, drooling all over it. One of your hands leave the wall to rub your clit, the new stimulation provided pushing you to the edge.

“Come with me, pretty,” he pants, barely speaking with shortness of breath. “Give it to me, let me know how much you love the way I fuck you”. 

His words have never failed to make you lose it. Not even once.

Hyunjin: Physical Touch and Gifts

You’re his muse.

You have been since the day he met you, since the very first time he laid his eyes on you.

Whether it’s for a poem, a drawing, a painting or a sculpture, you’re exactly where he finds his inspiration at. Hyunjin would rather die than looking at someone else, would rather stop making art before immortalizing another body that isn’t yours.

And besides being his muse, you’re also his lover. His partner, his accomplice, his everything. He trusts you more than he trusts himself, cares about you more than anything else. He wants to share all of himself with you, from his anger and sadness to the things he can’t say out loud, his filthy desires that he knows only you understand.

To be honest, you share a lot of the same. Especially your preferences, like and dislikes.

“Isn’t it pretty?”

A set of laced lingerie, your favorite color.

“What’s the occasion?” you ask him perplexed, carefully folding the wrap around it.

“Saw it on my way back to your apartment,” he is standing right in front of you, smiling softly at your excitement. “I thought you were going to like it, so I just couldn’t not buy it for you. It’s too pretty for you not to have it”.

Hyunjin is like that, always.

If he sees something he thinks you’d like, or if there’s something he wants you to have, he buys it and gives it to you as a gift. There doesn’t need to be a special occasion for Hyunjin to shower you with gifts —whether it’s a painting of yourself, a small hand-made bracelet, a new coffee mug or a whole expensive set of lingerie, Hyunjin always makes sure to get to your apartment with his hands full.

“I love it,” you reassure him, your fingertips tracing the lace of the underwear. “I’m going to try it on for you”.

He smiles widely, his eyes turning into crescent moons when his muse promises such a thing —he’ll get to see it on you, on your naked skin that always tempts him into touching it.

You come back faster than he expected you, only wearing the set of lingerie and nothing more.

“Oh,” it’s all he manages to say, his body freezing in its place.

“It looks good, hm?”

Hyunjin makes a mental note to go back to that place and buy all sets of lingerie available just to gift them to you, as soon as possible.

“You’re a fucking goddess”.

His compliment gets you shy, but you still walk towards him as he is sitting on the edge of your bed. Right next to him you spot some of his arts supplies –a sketch notebook and some other utensils.

“You want to draw me?” you ask him with a smile and the warmest tone of voice. Like pure honey and sugar.

“I wanted to,” Hyunjin murmured, looking up to you, “but I’ve changed my mind”.

“Why so?”

The position you two are at is perfect for Hyunjin to embrace your body –you’re standing right in front of him, between his spread legs. His mouth is at the level of your torso, and his hands can explore your whole body easily.

“I just want to admire you,” he sighed, leaving a single, quick kiss on your tummy. “Kiss you and touch you, remind myself that you’re all mine”.

You giggle softly while latching his fingers to his hair, something that earns you a subtle moan from him.

“You know I’m yours,” you sigh when his mouth and tongue becomes bold, licking and nibbling at your flesh while his hands caress the sides of your body, “don’t need to remind yourself something you already know”.

“Sometimes I can’t believe it,” Hyunjin whispers, grazing his plump lips against the lace fabric of your underwear, “that you belong to me”.

You arch your back slightly when his tongue licks a trail from your pubis towards your chest, the trace of his saliva looking better than any texture or color Hyunjin could paint, ever.

“I do,” every time it gets harder to hold your sighs and moans, his skilled mouth making you feel impatient for his touch, even when he is all over you. “I belong to you. I’ve been yours ever since the day I met you”.

He inhales deeply the scent of your skin, the way the tip of his nose brushes against you sending shivers down your spine.

“Let me mark you,” Hyunjin whispers, doe eyes staring up, right at you. “Don’t need that sketchbook when I have your body like this”.

He guides his lips to the side of your hips, nibbling at the skin and sucking somewhat harshly, only stopping to soothe the skin with soft kisses and kitten licks.

“You’re going to cover me all in love bites?”

“If you allow me to,” Hyunjin smiles, admiring the print of his teeth against your skin. “I want everyone to know you’re all mine, in every way possible”.

He guides his hands from your ass to your lower back as he stands up, pressing his body against yours.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whisper, hooking your arms against his neck. Your touch makes him shiver, but he conceals it well. “Please?”

You don’t have to tell him twice before he is already laying with you on his bed, taking his clothes off on the way.

“Can you leave this on?” he asks you when you’re about to unhook the top part of the underwear. The idea of getting to fuck you in something he gifted you is riling him up, so he prays for you to agree. “Want to come all over it, so everytime you wear it you can remember me”.

You just smile and nod, impatient to feel him deep inside you.

“You’re so warm,” Hyunjin hisses when his fingers push the lace underwear to the side, revealing how ruined they already are. “So fucking slippery”.

“I’m always like this when I’m with you,” you admit, “especially when you have your hands all over me. It drives me insane”.

You’re both more than ready for each other, as usual. It’s a magical thing, how it only takes you a few words, touches and gazes to receive each other’s body.

“Relax for me,” he whispers when the tip of his cock stretches your entrance, “like that”.

He holds your hand and you squeeze it hard as he enters you, sinking it into the mattress right next to your head.

“Shit,” a gasp escapes your lips when he bottoms out. And, slowly, he pulls away only to repeat the same movements of his hips against yours, “so- good”.

Hyunjin leans down to kiss your forehead, and then your cheek. He then finds your lips, and synchronizes the brushes of his tongue with the thrusts of his hips.

“Faster,” you plea when he releases your lips to let out a quiet whimper, pressing his forehead against yours while his body moves on their own. “Fuck me faster, Hyunjin”.

And so he does. All to satisfy you.

Every time he bottoms out, his pubis brushes against your clit and gives you the much needed stimulation to reach your climax, so you’re getting closer every time he slams himself inside you.

Hyunjin notices it, by the way your walls clench around him, so he continues steady with his movements. He hasn’t let go of your hand and he doesn’t plan to –he loves feeling you squeeze it, telling him with your touch what you can’t put into words.

“Hyune-”

“I know,” he groans quietly with shortness of breath, “let yourself go, I’m right here”.

Your orgasm hits you right when your gazes meet, and Hyunjin can feel it from how wet and slippery you’ve become, and how hard it is to maintain a steady pace when your hips are practically begging for his release.

“Come on,” he encourages you, not wanting to pull out before fucking you through your high, “give it to me”.

You arch your back and let go of his hand to hook both of your arms around his neck, violently trembling against his body while trying to get away from the stimulation he is providing you with.

But only after you’re done he does so, with a swift movement he pulls away from you and strokes his cock two or three times before coming all over your body, the set of lingerie getting paint with his orgasm.

And as he jerks of the remain of his high on top of you, Hyunjin realizes no painting he has ever gifted you has done you any justice.

[milkteabinniechan]

• let me fix it ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟbangchan fluff

synopsis: Chan fluff based off this suggestion. You have an awful day and your bf chan makes you feel better <3

buy me a coffee if you like what I do ☕ comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

The train ride home was long. The rain outside felt like a personal attack against you. Your phone buzzed in your pocket. The train jerked you forward when you reached for it.

"Drinks tonight?" From your coworker. You stared at the text. Your brain too exhausted to even reply. What a horrible day. What an awful, horrible, terrible day. You just wanted to crawl into bed and disappear.

You unlocked your front door and stepped inside. The whole apartment smelled delicious. Pad Thai. Your favorite. You strolled around the corner to see Chan at the kitchen counter cutting vegetables. He was focused cutting zucchini, you smiled at the serious expression on his face.

He turned around at the sound of your bag hitting the floor. "You're home!" He jumped and held you quickly. He smelled wonderful. The warm hug surrounded you and you let yourself fall into it willingly.

"how was your day, baby?" Chan lovingly pushed your hair out of your face. His head tilted in curiosity. Your eyes pricked with tears. He was being so heavenly. You didn't want to be negative. Be the bad mood that ruins the night. So you shrugged your shoulders and said "fine."

Chan furrowed his brow. He knew you. More than you'd ever like to admit. He could see your tense shoulders, the tears in your eyes. He lightly kissed your cheek. He patiently waited. A pause in the air. Heavy between the two of you.

You felt the pain grow hulking in your chest. You knew the words were clawing towards your throat. You confessed. You screamed about your day. Your horrible, exhausting existence. Your body ached at the thought of continuing on another day. When it was all over. You stood there in the kitchen, catching your breath, tears sticky on your cheeks. Chan placed a warm hand on your face.

"Babygirl.." his voice was low. "Let me make it better." Chan kisses your forehead. He side stepped to the stove top and turned off the heat to the Pad Thai already simmering. He turned towards you and smiled. He had a look of peace. He was a home with a warm fireplace and fresh laundry to be wrapped up in.

His arms opened wide and encompassed you. Your muscles instantly relaxed. Chan lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you to the bedroom and carefully placed you on the bed. You felt your head hit the pillow and was immediately hit with a wave of guilt. The dinner. You interrupted.

"Wait, Chan I-" you started. Your body just halfway off the bed. But Chan was already crawling on top of you, as if anticipating you. He knew you. And he knew exactly what you needed.

Chan lazily traced kisses up and down your stomach causing you to hitch your breath. Air caught in your throat. Your eyes flutter shut. You feel Chan's long fingers grip the hem of your pants and pull downward. You instinctively lift your body up to help. You hear him groan in agreement when he sees you bare on top of the sheets in front of him. He had become skilled at pulling off pants and underwear at the same time. He smiled with pride at his accomplishment.

Chan slid his cock achingly slow and deep inside of you. You knew you liked your right leg slightly lifted instead of your left. He knew how sensitive your clit was and just how much pressure to apply. His thumb pressing perfect circles.

"That's right, babygirl. Open up for me. Let daddy make you feel better. He can make it all better." Chan growled softly, his gorgeous, unyielding body towering over yours.

"F-faster.. faster!" You begged. Your breath ragged. Chan chuckled. He loved when you told him what you wanted. He absolutely fucking craved it.

He repositioned himself for leverage. His other hand now beside your head. He picked up speed flawlessly, your cunt swallowing him, pulling him in. Both of you climbing to a finish you'd reach together. Chan would make sure of it. He watched your face scrunch up tight. Biting your bottom lip. You quickly grabbed a handful of his soft, sweat tipped hair. You could feel how close you were. Chan let you take the lead, feeling you clench around him as you finished. Your body stiffening slightly, momentary silence. He was soon after you, letting his forehead fall onto yours. Filling every inch of you perfectly.

The feeling of you. A feeling he would never forget. What he could do to you. Faultlessly curing you. Your bad day was gone. Left on the train. You were home now.

[todomochi-uwu]

Who. (4/?) J. Y & S. M

Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.

Other chapters: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

Green, blue and red lights light up the entire place, there´s so much noise you can barely hear Chan and Han over the music, and the smoke machines uncomfortably fill your lungs, but none of that is enough to keep your thoughts away from the ones your heart yearns for.

Yeah, the last couple of weeks had been better, you had stopped drowning in your tears and the insomnia that had accompanied you every night for the last weeks seemed to finally abandon your side, but their presence remained there, stuck to your head, leaching off your pain, as if it was determined to not let you forget. Were they okay? Had they moved on? Did they even care?

Your mind kept going back to simpler times, memories of what once had been the strongest relationship you had ever been in.

The bed was a mess, sheets ruffled next to the TV, clothes were scattered everywhere, pillows laid under your knees so you wouldn’t get hurt while you rode Mingi, hips moving up and down without rhythm, desperate to reach that sweet release, but every single time you were close Yunho grabbed your hips firmly stopping your movements.

“You are not allowed to cum baby, not until Mingi does first.” You tried to focus on the man in front of you, blush covering his cheeks, his mouth was barely opened, small moans and groans kept escaping out of his throat, eyes clouded with pleasure, his eyebrows furrowed every time you went down his cock, lips swollen and pink from all the kissing. Mingi was the most sinful image you had ever seen, and you were desperate to make him feel good.

“Please, please, Yunho, please let me cum.” You threw your head back, licking your lips, your knees were cramping, but stopping would be so much worse, “I’ve been a good girl.”

“No, I don’t care how good it feels, you are not allowed to cum.” His fingers traced a path down your body, caressing and massaging your neck, making their way through your breasts pinching your nipples and twisting them, next was your sternum, your stomach, till they finally ended in your core. Two of them framed Mingi’s cock while he was still inside you. “Come on, baby. You can do better than that, you are barely moving.” He took you by the chin with his other hand, straightening your view, “Don’t you want our Princess to feel good?”

Mingi’s eyes were covered in tears, his breathing heavy and his cheeks strawberry red, his hands grabbing your hips helping you move faster, “Please, love, please make me cum.” You couldn’t resist. No matter how much your thighs were crying, no matter how sore you’d be tomorrow, you were determined.

“Good job, baby. You are such a good girl.” Yunho whispered in your ear, while kissing your shoulders, leaving small bite marks on them.

And not so happy times.

Mingi’s phone was going crazy. Texts and calls from the office kept coming up, distracting him from the task he was currently performing. His head was in between your legs, his lips and tongue messily lapping up at your core, fingers hastily going and out of you; and physically he was there with you, mentally you knew he was only thinking about work. Your fiancé was usually so good at making you come with his mouth, but right now you barely even felt good, his tongue was not good enough knowing he wasn’t there with you.

“Mingi, please, they can wait for a little while.” You begged him, caressing his headlocks, trying to bring him back to you.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just make this quick, I don’t want to piss off Jongho.” He was talking about it as if it was a chore, or another job, that did it for you.

You closed your legs and sat down immediately, pushing him away, “Never mind. Go and take care of whatever it is.” You put on your robe, leaving to go to the bathroom. He didn't even try to stop you.

There, you looked at yourself in the mirror, full-on makeup done, your hair styled and a set of lingerie (you had spent more than an hour trying to figure out how to put it on), you had outdone yourself so one of them would notice you, so one of them would want you like you wanted them, but of course, everything else was more important, more urgent. You felt your relationship hanging by a threat, and they had no clue.

.

You had been weak a couple of days ago, not being able to sleep, you decided to do something to appease the anxiety that had been running through your veins for hours.

“Hello?” A groggy voice responded from the other side.

You gulped down, already regretting your decision, “Hey, Hongjoong?”

You heard ruffling, and his voice got clearer, “Oh my god Y/n, is that you? Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry. Um… listen, um…” You couldn’t bring yourself to ask, too scared of the way he might react.

“You want to know how they are doing, don't you?”

You stayed quiet, the lump in your throat made it impossible for anything to come out.

“Well, it took almost a week for us to know you had left, neither of them said anything until Jongho went to your apartment wanting to know why Mingi wasn’t answering his phone or showing up to work. But the first time I saw them they were a wreck, the house was a complete mess, both of them sleeping in different rooms, Yunho barely came home and Mingi wouldn’t leave it. They looked so sick I almost didn’t recognize them, pale, heavy eyebags, and the smell, ugh the smell.” He chuckled sadly, shaking his head at the thought, “I had never seen them like that.”

“You must hate me.” You whispered tears threatening to slip out of your eyes, but you wouldn’t let them, you were just so tired of that.

“At first, I was confused, I didn’t know what was happening or why, but they explained everything and I couldn’t blame you. I wasn’t happy to see them like that, but I knew you must not have been any better.”

“Yeah.”

…

“So, how’s Chan been?”

You stuttered not knowing what to say.

“Oh Y/n we’ve been friends since middle school, you think I wouldn't know? Hell, I don’t even know how it hasn’t crossed their mind, you always go back to Chan.”

“Nothing’s going on with him.”

“I never said it was.”

You pulled on the thin skin of your lips, tearing it apart, slowly the taste of iron covered your tongue; your heart was beating a thousand miles per second and you ran out of things to say. Hongjoong kept telling you about them, how things had been in their friend group, and everyone’s reactions, it didn’t do much to soothe your fragile muscle, but at least it was something.

“Sooner or later, you’ll have to face them, Y/n.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

.

A pair of fingers kept snapping in front of your face, Han called your name repeatedly, “Y/n, Y/n, oh my god Y/n,” Snap, snap, snap, “Jesus, Y/n snap out of it already.”

You shook your head, your eyes focusing on the cherry-checked boy. “I’m sorry, I was thinking about… work.”

His eyes narrowed, looking at you incredulously, “Yeah, sure, whatever you say babe. Chan went to the bar to get us some shots.”

“Great.”

“What's going on with you? An hour ago, you were so excited to go out, and now look at you.”

“It’s nothing Jisung…” He cut you off

“Oh, you can't fool me, Y/n. I know what you are thinking about, who you are thinking about. You need a distraction, something to help you move on.”

“Is not that easy.”

“I know, believe me I know, but maybe a little push will help you.”

“Help as in therapy?”

“Mmm, I was thinking for more like a good fuck.”

Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with shame, “Han, what the fuck?”

“Oh, as if you don’t miss getting dicked down, you went from two dicks to zero in a second, I can’t imagine being that starved.” He giggled taking a sip from his beer.

“I'm not having this conversation with you.” You pushed him away, shaking your head and laughing.

“Right, because you can tell me all about how Yunho’s dick is the biggest you’ve ever had or how Mingi’s head game is so good he almost made you pass out, but this is where you draw the line. Common Y/n, you are not doing anything wrong, you are a gorgeous, single woman, it’s only natural to get back into the game.”

A single woman. You haven’t been one in years. It felt so wrong to think of yourself as one, but it is what it is.

“How about Chan?”

You were taken back, not believing what came out of Jisung’s mouth. “You cannot be serious.”

“Why not? He’s hot, you guys used to do it all the time, it’s not like he’s a stranger.”

“Yeah, back in college, I haven’t looked at Chan in that way in years.”

“You are full of shit. You think I didn't see you back at his apartment? You were practically fucking him with your eyes, he looks good and you know it.”

  Your cheeks got impossibly red, making your muscles hurt, “I did not…”

“You did, and that’s okay. Give yourself a chance, love. You never know what might happen.

The thought of actually doing it crossed your mind, could you do it? Could you let yourself into another's arms while someone else was on your mind?

Chan appeared with two handfuls of shot glasses, walking slowly towards your table, “I think I might have overestimated how much we can drink.”

“Oh, this is nothing, remember how much we used to drink back then? I don’t remember half the parties I went to.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good thing. Besides, we are older Hannie, I don’t think we can do it.” You said looking at all the alcohol in front of you.

“We can always try.” He said taking his first shot.

____________________________________________

“Han is your husband.”

“Yes Jeong, you were at our wedding against my will. What about it?” Minho’s eyes stayed firm on the road.

“I just can’t help but wonder how such a pure, innocent and gentle soul ended up with the devil?”

Minho grinned, shaking his head, “I like to think we balance each other out.” The car took a turn, “But I could ask you the same thing, what is the human embodiment of a cupcake doing with Dr Jeong biggest asshole in the neurology department Yunho, and well, Mingi.”

“Well, for one I'm not always an asshole,” Yunho chuckled, “and the rest was pure luck I guess.”

“I think she’d beg to differ.” The cat-eyed doctor looked at him for the first time since the ride started, “What happened anyways?

An uncomfortable silence filled the car, Yunho sighed and let his head rest against the car window.

“I got too much into my head, and so did Mingi. Work was killing me, bills began piling up and I couldn’t do much, so I started working double shifts, taking small jobs here and there. Mingi’s clients needed lots of things at the same time, they lost a case, I don’t know, I guess everything got too hectic too quickly. We would leave early in the morning, I wouldn’t come home for days, and Mingi would arrive late at night. We both were so stressed but couldn’t do anything about it, it bottled up.” His voice was cracking up, barely able to continue, “We just never stopped, we never noticed how badly we were neglecting her until it was too late.” He paused, letting out a sob, “One day, I came home, just a quick stop to take a shower and say hi, the second I stepped foot I knew something was wrong. She had taken all her things; her ring was right on the bed.” He shut his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows, remembering the scene, “My whole world came crashing down, Minho. I have never felt so much pain.”

“Yeah, been there done that.”

“What?” Yunho looked at him confused.

“You aren’t the only one who’s a workaholic.” Minho took a deep breath, “Back in college things between Han and me were not so good, we were always fighting, always so hostile and short with each other. I’ll admit it was mostly my fault, school got worse each day, I was struggling to keep my scholarship, my job at the café, Jisung; competing against you the entire time didn’t help.”

“Hey, man you did that to yourself, I showed up the first day of school and I already had a rival, and I’ll admit I liked the competition until you started being a real asshole to me and till this day I have yet to know why you hate me so much. At first, I thought it was because I’m just a better doctor, but…” He said with humour before Lee cut him off.

“You are not a better doctor than me, you dick.” The older doctor said, “I was taking the piss when we were students, it used to motivate me, but I didn’t hate you because of that, I just didn’t like you, but I don’t hate you.”

“Because…”

Minho gulped, was it his place to say it? “Back then…”

“Back then when Chan and Y/n were a thing?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, confused and shocked, “Wait, you knew about it?”

“Oh, it was obvious, Chan hated us the second he met us, I knew it wasn’t just a coincidence, also your husband tends to spill out his brain when he’s drunk.”

“Yeah, that’s Jisung for you.” He said while shaking his head and smiling, the thought of his drunk husband warmed his heart. “I almost lost him back then. One day, in the middle of a discussion, he told me he was done with my bullshit, he was tired of me taking him for granted and never being there. In the beginning, I thought it was just another argument, and that things would go back to normal in a couple of days, but after a week I knew I was wrong. I felt like an idiot for waiting an entire week, he didn’t want to see me, I tried everything, and even Y/n hated me, it took me months to gain back his trust. There were times when I thought I was just too little, too late, that he would never take me back, and thank god he did, I don’t know what I would have done if he didn’t.”

“Is that why you are helping us?”

“I don’t like you, Yunho, that I’ll admit, but I know you are not a bad guy, neither is the other guy, and I know you love her. I get what’s like to lose yourself and everything you have, in a second.”

____________________________________________

Your hips swayed at the rhythm of the music, you let yourself go and try to forget. You deserve it. Jisung was next to you, dancing drunkenly, giggling and saying a bunch of random stuff you could barely understand. One second you saw him pointing at something behind him and the next one he was gone. You were left alone with Christopher.

“Are you having a good time?” He whispered in your ear, dangerously close to you. When had he gotten so close?

“Yeah, are you?”

“I think I had too many shots.” He giggled. Yeah, he was so drunk.

“Me too.” You laughed along.

You kept dancing next to each other, occasionally getting pushed by the rest of the crown on the dance floor, with every step you came closer, and before you knew it, your chest pressed against his. Slowly move your hips against each other, his hands grabbed your hips, and your head rested against his skin. You didn’t dare look up, you knew what would happen and you didn’t know if you were ready for that, or even if your head was in the right place for that; yet, you still had an itch for it.

And as if Chan was reading your mind, he lifted your chin with his fingers, making you look him straight in the eyes. So many moments and memories flood your mind, blurred scenes of your “relationship” back in college, could you go back to that?

His face came closer, and his lips whispered your name against yours. And once again, you let yourself go.

Everything happened so quickly, that your head could not register what was going on. A hand had grabbed yours, pulling you roughly, making you crash into someone, Chan looked upset and confused. You turned around and saw him, his eyes were furious, you could see his lips moving but didn't understand anything that was coming out of them. Those lips that you had been missing for months, those eyes that appeared in your dreams again and again.

“Yunho?”

____________________________________________

Taglist:

@tunaasan @scuzmunkie @jeongwangjessmina @certifiedmoa @tenebrisirae @ddaeing @bratty-tingz @myshadowsbackstage @berryfiavoured @jkookiejiminlvr @yunsara @soobiverse @kyeos4ng @asjkdk @popcatx0 @yunho-leeknow @escape-from-realitys-stuff @thedistractedwriter @vsereniasstuff @sundayysunshine @queen-thiccness @toomuchtellyneck @daemon-bunny @hyuk4ngel @rxnexxi

[zepskies]

A Crime of Passion

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: When Beau Arlen decides to “make it up to you,” he’s damn thorough.

AN: I couldn't help myself lol. I wrote this last night. Here's a quick little drabble for the Take Me Home series, set directly after A Good Man Is Hard to Find!

Based on this request from @jessicalynnann.

Word Count: 550

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Implied smut, fluff, and a murder (of sorts).

Catch up on the TMH-verse: ⤵️

❤️ Take Me Home Masterlist

You just…you couldn’t stop laughing.

“All right, you done?” Beau asked.

You never thought you’d see this man blush so thoroughly. It made you laugh harder, though you tried to stifle it with your hands covering your face.

He had you laid out beside him, still skin against naked skin as the cool air began to dry your dewy bodies.

You were lying against him in an odd position, considering your bed now had a deep crack in the bedframe that ran all the way down the middle. It meant your legs were bent at an angle, almost like you were laying in a recliner seat.

You just couldn’t believe it.

This man had really broken your bed.

In fact, he murdered it. Killed it dead. Though you supposed it was a crime of passion, in this case. (You held in a snort at the thought.)

There were even a couple of screws that had rolled across the tile floor.

“Again, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I promise I’ll pay for a new frame,” Beau said contritely.

The truth was, he was embarrassed beyond belief.

Another giggle escaped you, though you tried to soothe him by caressing his cheek.

“Baby, it’s okay. This thing was old. I’m surprised it survived the move all the way from Chicago, honestly,” you said. The twinkle of mischief in your eyes made his face warm further.

“But how damn lucky am I,” you added, your lips curving. “My man quite literally shatters expectations when he makes love to me.”

And despite the unexpected cracking sound that had left you wide-eyed, it had been a spectacular finish. Even now, you were still tingling between your legs from how hard you’d come on his cock. (Twice.)

You slipped your bare leg between both of his and pressed a sweet kiss to his chest.

Beau fought it, but he had to smile at your words, and your affection. He sunk a hand into your tangled hair, first brushing his thumb against your cheek.

“You sure you’re okay then?” he asked.

“I’m more than okay,” you said. He felt the shape of your smile against his skin. You pulled back to meet his eyes. “Better the bed than my back, anyway. Jesus.”

Beau let out a sigh. Another giggle bubbled over and escaped you. You rubbed his arm.

“Think of it this way,” you said. “Now we can go pick out a new bed together.”

Beau tilted his head at that, and he nodded. A smile grew across his face.

“Now there’s an idea,” he said. It was probably too soon for him to broach the topic of moving in with you, but this could be a good first step.

“Right?” you replied in excitement. But there was something else dancing in your eyes. “We’ll just have to make sure the frame’s reinforced with titanium or something, because goddamn.”

Beau couldn’t help but laugh. He dropped his forehead against your shoulder while his own shook. You held him to you and didn’t bother to try and hide your own amusement anymore.

One thing you knew for sure?

There was no way in hell you’d ever let him live this down.

And one thing he would never tell you…

Beau Arlen was damn proud of himself.

AN: 😂 Well then. That was fun, and I hope you enjoy! ❤️

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Take Me Home Masterlist

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[lazyjellyfish300]

Books and Puzzles🤎☕

Miguel O'Hara x gn!Reader S/O

Synopsis: Bookstore, Coffee, Puzzle Building, and Takeout date with Miggy 🤎☕🧩📚 I just know that man enjoys puzzles, sudoku, word search, crosswords, Rubik's cubes, etc. the cutie. 🤓 Word count: 2k

A/N: I didn't intend to at first, but having him get turned on by calling him our husband ended up making its way into the fic. 🫣 s/o to Lauro @bluesidez since I saw you wrote about it earlier so you know I didn't steal from you love lol. 🫶🏽🖤

TW: ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, FLUFF, SUGGESTIVE AT THE END SO MINORS DNI, NOTHING TOO CRAZY, JUST MAKING OUT.

----

Ah the bookstore. You took a deep whiff as you walked in. Was it weird you liked the smell? Maybe it was the fact that your favorite coffee roaster was right next door and the smell wafted to its neighbor, bathing it in a heavenly mixture of freshly baked goods and rich brews meets old pages and fresh bindings. A warm pastry and large iced coffee were calling your name after this. 

Miguel walked closely behind you, hands in his hoodie pouch. Crimson eyes searching over the bookshelves, coasting from title to title as you two meander through the aisles, on the hunt for something new, but not sure what. Miguel grabs a non-fiction book about genetics, his pace gradually slowing to a stop behind you as he gets lost in reading it. 

You don't seem to notice, heading immediately for the romance section. You look over a few titles, eyes widening in interest then quickly softening in familiarity when you realize you've read them already, wiggling the spine of the book back in its tight spot between the others cramming the shelf. You read the back of a few other novels that looked promising, but you're not invested enough to drop $20 in case you don't like it.

You turn around and notice Miguel is nowhere to be found. 

"Babe?” You retrace your steps, finding your nerdy boyfriend lost in his book a few aisles over, a warm smile spreading across your lips. “Hey…” you give his arm a little tug. “Come over here.” 

“Mhmm…”. he says, his reading glasses sliding down a little on the bridge of his nose.

You shake your head at your sweet lover, leaving him to his reading. Finally, after he reaches the end of the first chapter, it dawns on him that his beloved is nowhere to be found. He looks from side to side, hanging his reading glasses on his collar, grabbing a blue bookmark with a wizard cat on it from a nearby kiosk and saving his spot, tucking the book under his arm as he weaves through the maze.

He spots you in no time, coming up behind you with a half grin on his face. “Hello…” he says sarcastically in a half-musical tone. 

You don't turn around, recognizing his voice, your eyes set on two puzzles in each of your hands. “Salutations…”

Miguel leans against a pillar nearby. “No spicy books this time?” 

“No…” you give a little disappointed sigh. “I've read most of them. None really caught my interest…” 

Miguel’s hand comes to your shoulder, making its way to the back of your neck, fingers lightly massaging your nape. “‘M’sorry you didn't find any this time.”

Your legs turn into goo at his touch, but you keep your eyes on the puzzles. “It's okay…I thought we could get one of these puzzles anyway to do together if you want.” 

Miguel's eyebrow raises. “Have you ever put a 500 piece puzzle together?”

You look up at him, “What, is it too hard or something?” 

Miguel shakes his head, chuckling lightly. “No, not necessarily. But it is time consuming, and a little tricky the more complex the design is. Just warning you in advance.” 

You blow air out of your lips like a horse. “Well I'm feeling lucky. Let's get it.” 

Miguel smiles and takes the puzzle in his hand, shaking his head a little at the goofy design. You two check out and head on your way, first stopping at the coffee shop next door for your favorite iced coffee and hot pastries. Miguel smiles as he watches you try and take a picture of your cup and bookstore bag to post on your Instagram story. 

---

When you get home, you both change into hoodies and sweatpants, getting nice and cozy with fuzzy blankets on the couch, warm socks on your feet, squealing a little as you dump out the puzzle pieces on your bare coffee table, rubbing your hands together and rolling up your sleeves a little as you begin, sitting cross legged on your plush rug. 

You snicker as you comb through the puzzle pieces. Miguel is already extremely invested. “¿Qué es tan gracioso? Hmm?” (What's so funny) 

Picture of the puzzle from Ceaco Puzzles, design and art by Brian Cook

You shake your head. “Just trying not to get distracted by the whole bakery I'm looking at.” You point at the coffee pot in the final picture. “That coffee pot does her daily squats.” 

“¡Oye! Focus.” Miguel chides, already making good progress on the far right corner. 

“Yes, chef.” You say with a smile, starting on the opposite corner. 

After about an hour or so, you can feel yourself getting burnt out. Miguel hasn't let up, eagerly making progress on his side of the puzzle, already fully assembled the potted plant, and most of the right border, making his way down to the beer glass. 

You stop, yawning, looking at the TV screen which is just playing one of your comfort series on autoplay, sitting back on the couch next to Miguel, leaning on his shoulder. 

Miguel continues to dig through the puzzle pieces, sorting and matching, turning the small cardboard pieces over in his large, but meticulous hands, brow furrowed in concentration. “¿Qué haces, cariño? (What are you doing, dear) I can't work when you're leaning on my arm like that...” 

You give a tiny groan in response, not budging from your position. “M’tired…” 

“Just lay your head on my lap, goofy.” Miguel says with a hum as he continues to build the puzzle. “As long as I can still move, I don't mind if you rest on me.” 

You sigh, tucking your hair in the hood of one of his large hoodies you're wearing, laying down with your cheek on his thigh, pulling your blanket over you. Your eyes get more and more droopy as you lay in his lap, his stomach occasionally brushing the side of your face as he leans forward and works, his left hand pulling the blanket up and over your shoulder that's begun to slip down a little. 

----

Some time later, you wake up as you feel Miguel shift out from under you, placing your head on a pillow instead. “Where are you going…?” you ask drowsily. 

Miguel smiles, crouching down next to you, his face close to yours so your noses nearly touch. 

"Sorry to wake you…I thought I'd get us dinner, sweetheart. Where do you think, just the usual?" He asks in a hushed tone. 

You nod slowly, your mouth slightly watering at the thought of your favorite food. You squish your cheek into the pillow, flattening it like a pancake, "And can you bring me a smoothie too?" 

Miguel smirks, leaning closer so his chin is resting on the corner of your pillow, his finger gently toying with a loose thread. The warmth of his face tickles yours. 

"I don't know...can I?" his finger gently prods the tip of your nose in a teasing manner. 

"Please? I'll love you forever..." 

Miguel smiles. "That so? Well I guess there's no question...you don't love me forever already, though?" 

You give a tiny scoff, shaking your head with a fake angry face. “You're lucky I'm a human sushi roll right now or I'd have to get up and fight you for suggesting that I don't love my boyfriend.” 

Miguel smirks. “Who is this ‘boyfriend’ you speak of? He sounds like a real stud.” 

“He is.” You echo his same playful smirk, crossing your arms over your chest. “You should meet him sometime.” 

“Perhaps I should.” Miguel kiss-attacks your face making you giggle, then stands up and gets his keys from the counter. 

“Heyy! My boyfriend will beat you up for that. He gets reallll jealous you know!” 

“Too bad he's not here.” Miguel tsks. I'll be back.” 

“Love youuu.” 

“Te quiero más.” (I love you more)

---

Miguel eventually returns, your favorite drink in a large cup with your ice cubes of choice, your requested smoothie, and your favorite food from the takeout place you both love to frequent. The room is silent except for the TV as you both chow down, bellies getting nice and full. 

Shortly after, Miguel is already back to working on the puzzle while you're leaned back on the couch, completely stuffed. 

“You gonna help?” Miguel asks, the corner of his mouth teasingly pulling upwards. 

“In a sec…God I'm so full.” You sigh and sit up, taking a deep breath, then another generous sip of smoothie. “Okay, now I can.” 

You only last another half hour or so before you start to get tired again, food settled in your tummy and your head cradled in Miguel's lap. 

Miguel’s already done with his half of the puzzle. The image is a little comical as one glance at it makes it totally obvious who did more work than the other. 

Miguel pauses, setting down his puzzle pieces when you give a little yawn and sit up with a tired expression. 

“Someone's sleepy…” Miguel says, giving your cheek a gentle caress with the back of his hand. 

You nod, your head hanging forward a little, still in a groggy haze. “I'm the worst puzzle building partner in the world.” 

“Yes you are.” Miguel chuckles, standing up, helping you up as well, finally scooping you into a bridal style carry when he sees that your knees are weak. “But that's okay… we have all day tomorrow to get it done.” 

You give a little groan and a laugh shaking your head. “Didn’t realize you'd take it so seriously.” 

Miguel chuckles again, carrying you into the bedroom. “I just don't like leaving things unfinished. Besides, I thought this whole operation was your idea, remember?” 

“Oops...” You say with a smirk as Miguel plops you on the bed, a little more playfully than you anticipated. “Hey!”

Miguel just smiles, climbing in on his side. “Enough antics. You better get some sleep now so we can get an early start on it tomorrow morning.”

“Aye, aye captain…” you scoot closer to him on his side of the bed. 

Miguel looks at you warmly, bringing you closer to him in response, letting you hear his heart gently beat in his chest, his scent enveloping you like a hug, making your eyelids flutter. 

“You're so damn cozy, what the hell…” you whisper with a yawn. 

Miguel smiles, leaning forward for just a moment to peel off his shirt, then resuming his position so you can cuddle against his chest again. “Am I really?” 

“Mhmm. So cozy it shouldn't even be legal.” 

“Well. I'll just be your pillow then, how's that?” 

“Thanks cutie…don't tell my boyfriend.” You whisper teasingly, continuing your joke from earlier. 

Miguel yawns and shakes his head, planting a kiss into your hair and closing his eyes. “Your secret's safe with me. No te preocupes…” (don't you worry)

You drape your leg over his hip, pulling yourself closer against his body. Miguel grows warm at the sensation, letting his hand run up and down your waist. “If your “boyfriend's” not here, what's that make me?” 

You look up at him, his eyes have gently fluttered open and he's looking down at you as you both lay tangled up in one another. “My husband, of course.” 

A wider, dazzling smile breaks across his face as he pulls you in for a kiss. “Husband, huh…” 

“Mhmm…” you giggle against his soft lips, letting your fingers gently pull at the curls at the back of his neck. 

He groans as he opens his mouth against yours, letting the kiss grow heavier as your tongues slowly begin to dance. “Why don't you repeat that for me again, baby...?”

You gasp as you feel him roll on top of you, his bodyweight giving you an arousing feeling of being pinned down.

“What, my husband…?” You ask sweetly, arching your body against his, biting your lip. 

“Fffuck…” Miguel holds your head in place as he starts kissing your neck. 

“My husband…” you moan out again, squeezing your thighs around his waist, smirking when you feel his grip on you tighten with even hungrier want than before. 

Somehow, you both didn't end up falling asleep until some time later, sleeping in well past the early morning until you decided on a lazy late morning bath and more coffee.

The fog from the hot water and rich smell of brewing coffee permeated the apartment, puzzle pieces laying temporarily forgotten on the coffee table as sunshine peeked through the blinds in the kitchen windowsil.

----

☀️☕🤎🧩

[writers-potion]

Don't Fear Criticism

Creating homosexual characters can feel like planting an active grenade in the middle of your story. You start to fear bad reception of your work - even before you start!

But really, there is no need to worry. The fact that you're concerned only proves that you care.

You probably won't get it the first time.

You probably will get some criticism.

Only remember that it's perfectly normal to make mistakes. After you punch out your draft, have beta readers who are part of the community and incorporate their feedback.

No Diversity Shopping

Yes, diversity is important, but it's no checklist where you need to list all possible sexual orientations and have at least one character for each.

First of all, it would be quite impossible.

Second, that is likely to make all of them underdeveloped and stereotypical.

Check if you really need the character in your plot.

If they turn out to be homosexual, let them run their own course and shape their path. If your story's theme is related to the character's sexuality, think about the message you want to convey.

Quality over quantity, always.

Go Beyond Sexuality

Your characters exist, and they happen to be homosexual, not the other way around. This doesn't mean that it won't be an important, or that you should downplay their sexuality.

Strike a balance by showing readers their hobbies, interests, likes and dislikes, relationships with their family and friends, etc. The more holistic they are, readers are going to be convinced that you have an actual character, not a scarecrow holding up the #diversity tag.

How do their sexuality play into their broader narrative?

Develop a Backstory

Every homosexual character must have thought about their orientation and identity, with a process of how they came to recognize their sexuality.

Whether you're character is a confused teenage girl, or a middle-aged gentleman with a stable relationship, think about what brought them here.

Backstories don't have to be tragic. They can have supportive parents and find escapism in online communities who accept them for who they are.

There isn't just one "gay life". Get creative.

Normalization is Important

Sometimes, your story world will not accept homosexual people as normal. That's okay!

However, there is a difference between other character treating them unfairly and you as an author normalizing homophobia in your narrative.

Word choice and tone would play a key role.

When a likeable character is homophobic, avoid normalizing it by making it a flaw. Show that your conservative medieval village is narrow-minded when they treat them as outcasts.

Homophobes may not necessarily be the evil guys.

It's enough to state (clearly) that it's wrong.

Make Use of Tropes

Stereotypes aren't just an issue with gay characters, but when used successfully, have created wonderful retellings and spinoffs that are refreshing.

You can purposefully overplay stereotypes to show how silly they are. Deconstructing stereotypes can add humor to your narrative.

You can also use them to explore the expectations that readers have for those kinds of characters. The Gay Best Friend might be a trope, but you can get them to go deeper than the typical sidekick to realize their true potential as a cast member.

Religion and Homosexuality

In the real world, religion and homosexuality are often presented on far opposites of politics, and that makes me sad. Homosexual characters are free to be religious, find peace, support and mindfulness through any religion of their choice.

Vise versa, deeply religious characters can have wonderful relationships with homosexual characters.

It all comes down to how your characters interpret religion and homosexuality in light of those religious values. Though I'm an atheist, I believe all religions have the ability to embrace diversity at their core.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You double check the lock on your apartment door. Your paranoia buzzes like a broken radio. You pace around the cramped bachelor, thoughts strewn all around. One moment, you’re desperately trying to figure out what to do next; find a job, go home, call Bre and beg her to take you back. The next, you’re looking out the window, expecting a villain to be waiting outside. Every worry you have strings back to that man... 

You manage to settle down enough to browse the scant offerings on Indeed. The work from home opportunities are questionable as you tap more information. Commission based... that’s not going to get you much. You send off a few applications for fast food joints, a quick solution just to you through, but you need something quick. Something today. 

You give up and throw your phone. You stare at it as it lays screen down on the other end of the couch. You see it in that man’s hand as he flicks his thumb. Who does he think he is? The real question is, who is he? 

You sigh and close your eyes, dragging your hands over your face. The more you think about it, the more it feels you were set up for failure. Why couldn’t Bre just warn you? Why couldn’t she tell you who he was? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? 

The stale smell of espresso urges you from the couch. You shuffle into the bathroom and start the shower. You strip off your clothes, slightly stiff from the dried coffee. Your skin is sticky too in places and there’s a particularly crusty patch on your chest somehow. 

You wash away the caffeine-laced christening. You linger beneath the water and let it slake over you. You lean forward, hands flat on the tile as hot rivulets wash over your back. Your muscles are coiled tightly. The stress of the day and those to come have you tied up like a knot. 

When you emerge, you yawn, too exhausted to keep up the existential despair. You stagger into the front room and over to your double bed. You trade the towel for a loose tee and sprawl across the futon. You melt into it and close your eyes. 

You’ll figure it all out tomorrow. Maybe. Hopefully. 

Or maybe tomorrow will be even worse. 

☕

You wake up to the creak of your mail slot and the metallic clunk of it biting down on an paper. You gurgle and roll onto your side, coughing dryly as you rub your forehead. Your head is thick and foggy from sleep. A slightly thrum pulses in your temple. 

You hover at the edge of the bed, staring at the door, weighing the distance. You yawn and roll onto your feet. You pad across the apartment and pull the paper free of the flap. You open the trifold letter and your vision clears as the font comes into view. 

The building’s letterhead makes you think it’s another notice for the fire alarm test but the bold captials across the top send your heart into panic. NOTICE TO VACATE. What? How? Your rent for the month is paid, plus first and last. How can they evict you? You didn’t do anything. 

You look through the peephole. The hallway is empty. Dang. 

You rinse your face and brush your teeth hurriedly. You pull on a pair of sweatpants and your slip-on shoes. You check the mirror and shrug. Good enough. You don’t really care right now. You need to figure this out. 

You stomp down the flight of stairs to the building office and knock frantically until the door opens. The squat woman inside gives you a death glare. You wave the letter at her. 

“I think there’s a mistake,” you say. 

She grunts and stares back at you. 

“I paid my rent, but this says I have to leave.” 

“Lease violation,” she shrugs. 

“But what-- I’ve been here only a few weeks? What did I do?” 

“Read the letter,” she sniffs. 

You furrow your brow and unfold it again. You skim over the words; ‘landlord requires unit for personal use’. Huh? They can do that? 

“Personal use? But—But you leased it to me. My deposit--” 

“Take it up with a lawyer. All there,” she taps the top of the paper before she swings the door shut in your face. 

What the hell? This can’t be real. You’re in a nightmare. You’re not really awake. This is just one of those really deep dreams where you can’t throw a punch. Too bad you can’t throw one in real life either. Hard to test the theory. 

You frown and make your way back up to your apartment. You leave the paper on the counter and brew a coffee from the single-serve machine. You hold your head in your hands, elbows on the linoleum, as you try to sort through it all. 

The machine grinds and you stand up straight. You take your cup and go to the fridge. You pull out the carton of milk and tip some into your coffee. The chunks that roll out of the spout make you gag. Frig, expired. You dump the whole mug and leave it empty in the sink. Nothing is going right. 

You pour out the sour milk and rinse away the putrid scent. You need to get food. You’re out of eggs too. Just a few small things for now. You have to count your pennies. 

You put a bra on and pull on a hoodie. You make yourself decent enough to face the public but keep your sweatpants on. You’re just running to the corner store. You grab your wallet, phone, and keys and head out. 

Your stroll down to the store is distracted. You should ask a lawyer but you can’t really afford that. You’ll have to try the housing board, see if they offer public services. You don’t really know about all that stuff. 

You grab your staples without much attention. Eggs, milk, a loaf of bread, and some sliced cheddar. Grilled cheese for life.  

You go to the counter and wait for the cashier to scan the items. You try to tap your card but it declines. You insert instead and put in your pin. Pin accepted, transaction declined. You grimace, face burning with embarrassment. 

“Sorry, one sec, I’m gonna just check my account.” You back out of the way of the next customer and pull out your phone.  

You sign-in to your banking app. You see the balance you expected. More than enough for your lot but there’s a little red exclamation mark next to the account number. You tap it and a new page opens. 

‘Account locked for security purposes. Contact Bank Services.’ 

Oh my god! What more can go wrong? You tap on the little chat icon in the corner. The automated responses lead you in a circle and tell you to call the toll-free or go into the local branch. Ugh! But you need milk now. 

A message blips across the top of your screen. It fades before you can read it. You pull down the menu and stare dumbly at the text sent from a private number, ‘morning, sweet lips.’ 

[emotionallyattachednerd]

Mistletoe ❙ ES Soundwave x f!robot reader ❙ NSFW 18+

Word count: 2600+

Warnings: Smut ( touching, interfacing, spike in valve and spark merging ) little angst with happy ending and fluff. NSFW 18+.

Notes: Thanks for sending in your request. Sorry for the late a lot has been going on for me to keep focused on writing. This was a lot more tamer than what I've been writing lately but I really enjoyed doing something more tender with fluff. Hope you all enjoy. 🥰

Coffee ☕

At the time you don't remember a lot from that day, only that you straight up offered to take care of Soundwave's cassettes so they wouldn't have to be locked in a cell. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into but you weren't going to back out either. Looking at Soundwave you saw the confusion flicker across his visor, bound and about to be transported to the G.H.O.S.T. holding cells where he was to remain.

You're an autobot, trusted by both Optimus and Megatron they agreed to allow this to happen for them to be in your care. You remember looking at Soundwave and staring at him, trying to figure out what the decepticon was thinking, which proved to be near impossible. You hoped that this might give Soundwave a small insight to rethink about the future, for the sake of their world and species. It's all about survival now.

While in your care the cassettes were unsure suddenly, or conflicted. Frenzy and Lazerbeak were a little more open but Ravage wasn't so fond of you but you chose to give it time. Over the months they warmed up to you and you were proud that they were able to trust you. They behaved like children but you cherished this. However, you could tell they missed Soundwave very much.

Turns out, all efforts with G.H.O.S.T. was pointless. You ended up under Mandroid's control, along with the autobots and Megatron. All you remember is being stuck, trapped in a blind whiteness that you couldn't get out of. You've never felt so scared before. The next thing to happen is for you to wake up and there is Soundwave right in front of you, his shoulder blaster flared up and aiming directly at you. If it wasn't for his cassettes jumping in front of you he might've taken the shot. They begged him to not hurt you, and he listened, downpowering his weapon.

After everything it was time to clean up the mess. It was decided to give the decepticons one more chance and they finally accepted, but refused to become autobots. It was decided for Soundwave to live with you as well so he could be watched. You were a little nervous since he did try to kill you, but felt safe knowing he only wanted to be with his cassettes again.

Being under control felt like a part of you was torn apart. For a time you weren't yourself, even with the cassettes trying to help you. It was Soundwave though who ended up helping you move on. How? Well, that's where things get interesting.

Things started happening when you noticed Soundwave playing music, but not just any music, they were your favourites back on Cybertron. You haven't heard anything like that in a long while. You did ask Soundwave why he played them and his answer was that music can help with recovery. You were a little surprised to hear this, not really thinking that Soundwave cared.

You were very wrong there.

Then the cassettes got dragged in, or they decided to play a part. For example, near the human holiday Christmas, Frenzy and Lazerbeak bring you to Soundwave, where Ravage brings him to as well. A random spot. Above you both there was a mistletoe. A silly thing the humans did you thought. Apparently you're meant to kiss the other if you both were to stand under it.

Looking at Soundwave you expect him to turn away thinking the cassettes game was childish, but he doesn't. He's staring right at you, his visor dimming a little as you hold the stare back. It is as if everything went silent around you as he steps closer, closing the distance, and you're surprised to see his mouth guard retract, relieving lips underneath.

His servo moves up to your cheek plating causing your plating to heat up a little, then you watch as he tilts his helm and presses his lips against your own for a tender kiss. It's only short but the feeling of his lips over your own was like sweet energon, you wanted more of it. He pulls away and his mouth guard slides back over, and you can only stand there speechless. The cassettes let out a cheer making you snap out of your thoughts and realise what just happened. Soundwave kissed you. Why did he kiss you? Because of the mistletoe? It had to be only for that reason.

You're wrong again.

Soundwave acts differently around you from there onward, more fondly and even opening up. You even start to recharge better, the nightmares slowly becoming less frequent and you find yourself spending more time with Soundwave with the cassettes' encouragement. You find yourself becoming closer towards him, always seeking to be around him as you notice he does the same with you. You're both just always together. Eventually, he asks you out on a date.

You agree.

Asking Bumblebee to watch the cassettes without telling him you and Soundwave had a date was a little bit of a challenge as he wasn't overly fond of the childish smaller cons, but with the Terrans help he agreed finally. It's not like you were ashamed, but for now you just want to keep what's happening between both you and Soundwave to yourselves. Soundwave takes you to Witwicky's viewpoints. The snow fall is still fairly new as it comes down all over, and you had to admit it's rather beautiful. Over the time you've been on earth you've found the snow to have a peaceful effect.

"Y/N." You hear him say your name, making you turn your attention to him. "Are you happy?"

"Happy?" You question with a tilt of your helm. "Well, yeah, I guess I am. Honestly I haven't felt happy for a long while, but you and your cassettes have helped. Just having you all around, in my life, it's brought a comfort I can't help but relish."

"Like a family?"

You smile softly. "Yeah, like a family. What about you, are you happy?"

He's quiet, turning his helm as if he's looking away. "I am."

Is he blushing?

Your smile grew more. In the past you've fought with Soundwave in combat, primus, he was even about to shoot you more than a bunch of times, now here you both were on a date. Crazy how things turn out sometimes.

"I never thanked you for taking care of my cassettes." He finally meets your optics again and goes on. "Or apologise for almost shooting you. So, thank you, and I'm sorry."

You stare at him, optics softening as you hear this.

"You're welcome, and it's alright. I wasn't myself, you had every right to try and stop me." You answer back, flinching a little when a snow flack lands on your face, causing a soft smirk to come from you. "The snow fall tickles my face."

You feel his servo against your cheek plating then, right where the snow flake had fallen. His digit traces gently into you and you can't help but lean into his touch. Soundwave steps closer and you watch his mouth guard retract back, showing you his lips once again like the first time. He kisses you, and you welcome it.

Both your servos rest against his shoulder plates, tilting your helm and slowly deepening the kiss you both shared. Letting out a soft muffled gasp you feel his glossa roll out, tangling with your own running across your denta's as you did the same to him back. The taste of him fueled your desires so wildly, something you've never felt before.

Pressing up closely your kiss only grows hotter and more demanding. Both his and your servos roam across each other, feeling every curve and plating, your spark pulsing in your chamber making you gasp from the overwhelming emotion. Breaking the kiss you look at Soundwave through dimmed optics, a thousand questions rushing through your mind but only a few were a top priority.

"What's happening?" You manage to whisper against his lips between the heated kiss. "What is this?" You're so confused by what your spark is screaming out for.

"Connection." Soundwave answers, your optics watching his lips move is so fascinating. He holds you close and presses his helm against the front of yours fondly. "Bond."

"Bond?" You are not sure what it means.

He moves his free servo over your chassis, directly where your spark is and you feel yourself pulse strongly under his touch. With his other he moves your servo over his own chassis and you feel his own spark thumping wildly under your contact.

It hits you then. "Is this...?" You're unable to finish, going speechless.

"Affirmative." He answers through what sounds like a low moan.

It's love. Both your sparks were desperately reaching out for one another, demanding for contact. It's Soundwave that asks the big question.

"Y/N, will you become my conjunx endura?" It's a serious question, and yet you answer truthfully.

"Yes." There is no doubt in your voice.

Somehow you end back up at your base, the old G.H.O.S.T. building that was given to both autobots and decepticons to use for themselves. No one notices either of you returning in a hurry and head right into your quarters. Inside you're both lost in a deep and passionate kiss, glossas dominating one another as your moans vibrate through each other with a blinding desire.

You want this, so bad, and you can feel his longing for you as well. His servos suddenly grip under your thighs and lift you up under his stronghold making you gaps against his lips that fall into a low desperate moan. Others might think you both are a little crazy to rush things, but never have you felt so right about something and feel that urgency to commence this completely, tonight. Your legs wrap around his slender waist and hold on tightly as he carries you over to the berth, laying you down and joining you on the berth as it creaks a little under both your weights.

His servos move down you, his visor holding your stare as your optics furrow a little, curious about what he is doing before you feel a sudden gentle pulse that bursts from every sensitive spot in you and goes directly to your spark and already heated valve. What was that?

It doesn't take long for you to figure it out. He's using his little trick on your, sonic pulses vibrating from his servos, running through his digits as they rush through you in the most pleasurable way. Well, the mech knew how to touch, that you figured out real fast. Guess it's a weapon not just for war, but for pleasure too.

Your back arches as he continues this, his mouth moving to your inner neck cables as he suckles and nips at each one in the most seductive way possible, causing more beautiful sounds to echo from your vocals for him to reish. He continues this, teasing you through each rocking pulse, before gripping at your waist and tugging you against his heated panel.

Letting out a throaty gasp from the heated contact you look up at him as he hovers before you smile between heated breaths and lean up to kiss him firmly. He returns the kiss, just as he grinds himself into you. Enough teasing, you can't keep doing this. You want to be filled by him, and join your sparks.

It's like he read your processor, because he moves suddenly again, giving a harsh thrust into you with his panel retracted and throbbing spike rubbing against your, trans fluids dripping onto your still closed panel. Acting quickly you retract your own finally, letting out a moan as he does this a few more times. Before you can say anything he suddenly pressed himself into your valve, sinking inch by inch as you both carry on with noise and heavy vents.

Your helm hits the berth once he's fully within her clenching depths, your valve twitching with each rapid pulse from his throbbing cable. He withdraws, and sinks back in, gaining a rhythm as he lays closely over you, holding you as he frags you slow and firmly.

Holding his gaze you caress his check plating as you rock under him with each thrust, gasping softly and clenching more around him, loving every bit of thickness he gives. He sits up on his knee pads and pulls you up against his chassis, having you half straddle him as he rests back a little, your servos moving across his shoulder armour before coming to the back of his helm and sharing a kiss with him.

You hear metal shifting and then there's an illuminating light between the both of you. Soundwave's blue spark pulses rapidly, begging for a connection right in front of them. After staring for a bit you finally open your own chamber, the same blue spark pulsing right back from you.

Soundwave then leans into your audio, whispering. "I love you."

Such beautiful tender words, it makes you almost melt. "I love you too." Is your answer back.

Then it happens. Both your sparks join finally, entwining together in their own rapid merging together. The shock causes your back to arch under Soundwave's servos as he keeps hold so he doesn't lose you, his thrusts short and quick now, rutting into your dripping valve over again. Your node is being grinded harshly in the most incredible way causing your overload to build more within your core.

You start feeling it, the contact forming between you and Soundwave, a new bond to share for eternity.

"Soundwave...primus...It's so much!" You manage to find your voice before burying your face into his neck as you hold on tightly, short groans heard after each thrust that is drilled into you, Soundwave's grunts mixing in together.

"So good. So pure. So beautiful." He says back through heated vents before kissing you deeply. His hips still and you feel his fluids suddenly soaking your inner depths warmly.

You overload right there with him. Your juices mix with his fluids as you rock your hips still, savouring every second. It's not over yet. Your sparks are still merging, but it's very incense and you feel a second overload about to burst through you.

Letting out a loud cry of bliss you feel your sparks burst together in a blinding light. It's done. You're both now bonded. Your second overload hits right through you before Soundwave finally stops moving all together and lays you back down on the berth.

You're tired, but you feel so incredible all over. Soundwave removes himself from your valve and your chassis, both closing up quietly before he lays right beside you and caresses your warm cheek plating. You could've sworn he is purring, and you love every bit of it.

In your new bond he's sending all sorts of warmth to you, making you hum in delight and lean up to kiss him again. You love his lips, you love him, everything about him you craved. When the kiss is broken he's smiling down at you, so tender and loving.

"Thank you." Is all you can say to him through your tired state.

"No, thank you." He answers back fondly.

Embracing Soundwave you hold onto him, your vents slowly down that turn into low hums while savouring the aftershocks of the intense overloads you both shared. Never have you felt so complete, feeling the silky warmth of the newly created bond between you two. There are no regrets, no conflict, just pure joyness.

You're now his as he's yours, your conjunx endura.

[shadowbriar]

Matt Murdock - Waste My Time

Pairing : Matt Murdock x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 2.7k Warning : (18+) Short smut. A bit of non-con in the end? Angst. Kinda not liking Matt here tbh. Also not proofread as my laptop is still whack. Synopsis : He feared the true nature of her heart. He fears that the hanging question of their situation was only felt by him, that the growing fondness was only flowing one way. Notes : There should be a prequel for this but idk when I could write it. Please nag me for it so I'll have the motivation to write. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

The air smells sinful.

Their bodies were pressed together, separated only by the thin layer of their sweat. Her body was aching, nearly cramping from all the jolts of electricity surging through her veins. She’s lost count of the many times the sense of warmth pooling in her lower stomach bursted like a tidal wave yet she couldn’t find it in her to ask him to stop. There could never be enough of Matt Murdock in her, ever.

Matt’s muscles were tensing on top of her. His grunts were becoming louder in her ears as he tried to suppress them by leaving a trail of wet kisses around her neck. He was close, she could feel it.

“I’m—,”

“I know,” She croakes, finishing the words he couldn’t continue as he falls deeper into ecstasy “Let it go.”

Matt lets out a small chuckle as the bed squeaks with each of his thrust, “We’re really gonna break this bed soon.”

“Well, thank God it’s yours and not mine.”

He didn’t waste any more energy in talking as he kissed her deeply. Matt closes his eyes tight, trying to find and commit to the best rhythm to reach their climax as soon as possible. He was close, but she was a few thrust behind and it wouldn’t be very chivalrous of him to finish without her.

With his right arm supporting his body weight, Matt’s left hand reaches down to her clit. Her feet buckled when his callous thumb rubs her throbbing bud. A small smirk forming on his face as he feels her heartbeat quicken. As much as he loves their intimate session, he really couldn’t hold his release any longer and he’ll swear he’ll explode any second now from the tension.

“Matt—,” She squeals “I can’t take it.”

“Yes, you can, baby. Just— One more,” He breathes, his grunts getting louder as his thrust becomes sloppier “One more for me, please.”

And that’s when she feels it, another rush of ecstasy building inside her. She pulls him tighter, nails digging into the muscles of his broad shoulders. The mark certainly feels like nothing compares to the injuries he’d often sustain from his delinquent nightly activities, but it made him groan nonetheless.

Matt’s face now hovers over her, mouth agape as he tries to keep his sanity as they’re reaching their orgasm. A couple more thrust and Matt could feel her whimpering under him once more. He follows not long after, sinking into the crook of her neck as energy completely flush out of his body.

“That was good cardio.”

Matt chuckles, “Who would’ve thought we’d be such health conscious people, huh?”

She laughs in response, her fingers finding their way to play with the soft strands of his hair. 

Their breathing slowly calms and so do their hearts. Matt now pulls away from her neck, still on top of her as he adjusted his weight to his arms so that he wouldn’t crush her for much longer. He could feel her staring. He wonders what she might be thinking right now. Was she pleased? Is she happy? Does she want this to last as much as he does?

Instinctively, Matt leans in for a kiss. It was a much softer kiss than the one they shared a couple minutes ago. His lips touch her gently as if they were fragile petals of rose. His right hand finds its way to cup her cheek, thumb caressing her jawline gently.

“Matt,” She says, pulling away and looking away so that he’d stop kissing her “I think I want to clean up now.”

And there it is again, the strange thump in her heartbeat. He’s noticed the change of her pulse lately, especially when he kisses her more softly than he usually does. She would let him kiss her for a while, returning the gentle gesture before pulling away as if someone’s poured her with a bucket of cold water.

“Uh, sure. Of course.” He says instead, slowly moving to the side so that she could get off the bed “Do you want some help with that?”

“No, I’m okay.”

The sound of her footsteps leaving the bed becomes louder in his ears as she gets further away. A bitter sense of resentment builds in his heart. What happened? What went wrong? Does she not like it when he kisses her that way? 

Matt knew that from the get go that they’ve agreed to keep their ‘affair’ clean of feelings. That they would just waste each other’s time but it was certainly easier said than done. They’re just friends, sure. She’s the one person that could topple Foggy for a friendship battle in his heart, but lately it’s been much more than that. It’s been much more than stolen minutes of holding her close after their shared nights. It’s been much more than marking her skin and hoping that it could actually mean something more than just bruises of love. It’s been much more than friends who waste each other’s time by kissing in dark rooms.

The sound of water trickling from the shower head is now heard. Matt knew that if he wanted to, he could focus his hearing through the noise of the water to hear her true feelings, but he chose not to. He feared the true nature of her heart. He fears that the hanging question of their situation was only felt by him, that the growing fondness was only flowing one way. What was he supposed to do then if that was certainly the case? He’d rather lose a limb than to lose her, be it as a friend, a sex partner, or perhaps a lover.

—-

It was one of those rare nights when Matt chooses to actually socialise and put the mask down for a couple hours. The place was packed with friends and loved ones. Foggy and Marci’s engagement party is certainly lavish with expensive champagne and grand decoration. Marci must have certainly bent over backwards to make sure everything went perfectly tonight.

She was standing by the sofa on the patio, watching Matt being so immensely interested in whatever discussion he’s having with one of the guests. Must be someone he knew back in Columbia from the way he looks so at ease. His brilliant wide smile never leaves his face. She was sure that his cheekbones must be threatening to fall anytime soon from all the grinning he’s doing.

“You must be Matt’s new nurse.”

She turns to see a beautiful woman, smiling brightly at her, “You must be Claire.”

“I am, indeed.” Claire nods “Matt has told me so much about you.”

“I hope he’s not complaining to you about how unskilled I am with stitching his wounds,” She groans, rolling her eyes “It’s not even my fault that his scars are never healing. Everytime I stitch one up he’ll manage to rip it open that very night whilst gaining a new wound. How am I supposed to work my healing magic if he’s so determined to hurt himself like that?”

Claire chuckles, nodding in understanding, “Why do you think I quit?”

She smiles, appreciating Claire’s company.

In no time the two women were talking and laughing together. It pains her to know just how charming Claire truly is. Matt had told her about Claire and why she chose to leave Hell’s Kitchen and ultimately him. She wonders if he ever had any regret not letting his walls down for her.

“Claire, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, anything.”

“How did you do it?” She asks, hesitation evident in her tone “How did you leave Matt?”

The kind smile on Claire’s face faded a little. Her brows furrow for a while before shaking her head as a sign of confusion. It was certainly the least expected question she was hoping to hear from someone Matt has been boasting so fondly about.

“I know you care about Matt deeply, don’t get me wrong,” She explains fast “I just— Matt told me that you two had.. Something. I just wanted to know how you could get yourself out of it.”

Claire’s expression turns into an understanding one, “I hope I’m not understanding your question wrongly but Matt could be.. Quite hypnotising at times. I’m sure you know that best, being one of his childhood friends.”

She flashes a small smile.

“I guess, I just didn’t want to be sucked into the blackhole that is Matt Murdock.” Claire sighs, a satisfied smile lingers on her lips “It would be practically inevitable for you to get out of his grasp once you’re wrapped around his fingers and as you know, he’s not one to have ‘back down’ in his dictionary, ever.”

She rolls her eyes, “Tell me about it.”

“Well, Matt also has so many layers to himself. As much as he pulls you, he would push you away and I guess I wasn’t looking for that kind of relationship.” Claire continues “You can love Matt as much as you possibly could, beat yourself black and blue just to keep him, but in the end, the only one who knows what Matt Murdock wants is Matt Murdock.”

Claire’s words sink into her brain. None of the things she uttered were news to her. She knew Matt better than anyone and it was all true. As much as Matt pulls you, he would push you just as strong. He’s a complicated man with a complicated history. Yet with all the knowledge she has of him, with all the years they’ve spent as friends, with all the understanding they have for each other, she still couldn’t decipher his true motive.

Matt’s sudden change of action scares her. He becomes more attentive, more gentle and spends more time with her after each of their ‘cardio’. He would cuddle with her, staying in bed until the sun started waking. His kisses no longer feel needy but longing instead. The way his hands dance around her body feel much more calculated, much more cautious as if he’s afraid of making mistakes.

Now if the reason for all of these changes were of what she hoped for, that a certain sentiment was growing for her just as much as she yearns for him, then this would certainly be their happy ending, but Matt is known to be quite the womaniser. He has that charm that he never shied to use around women. Though she loves him with all of his brilliance and mischievous traits, for once she fears of what he might truly have at heart.

“Is everything alright between you two?” Claire asks, snapping her out of her thoughts “Is there something you wanted to share with me?”

She shakes her head, feigning a smile, “Nothing. I just wanted to know what happened between you two so I can nag him later about it.”

Unbeknownst to the two ladies, Matt has heard all of their exchanged words. His grip on his white cane was borderline destructive, knuckles white from how much he’s trying to bottle his emotions. Is she planning to leave him? Is that what’s happening?

Is that why she always avoids his gentle touch? Because she doesn’t want to be that attached to him? Does this mean that he truly has been barking up the wrong tree? That his feelings really flows one way?

—-

“How did you even get this drunk, Matthew?”

She stumbles to help him get to his apartment. Some time after her lovely chat with Claire, she finds Matt pissed drunk in one of the rooms in Marci’s apartment. He was hammered, slurring words that could barely be understood. His glasses were tossed to the floor, white cane laying feet away from where he was slumping at. Something was wrong.

Closing the door behind them, she puts Matt’s arm around her shoulders as a means of support. She knew that she could barely offer any stability for him, but it would be better than having nothing, she reckons. He surely can’t lean on his white cane to navigate.

But before they could get in further inside the apartment, Matt pushes her to the wall. He was pining her in place. He licks his lips, listening to her heartbeat that’s starting to thump harder than it did a few minutes ago. She was scared.

“Matt—,”

Before she could finish her words, Matt leans in and kisses her hungrily. He pushes his body to come in contact with hers, pressuring her to keep still as his hands now hold her wrists.

“Matt, let me go.” She says between the kisses “You’re hurting me.”

Matt didn’t stop. He kisses her, nibbles on her lips until he could feel the foul taste of iron. He wasn’t sure whose blood it is he’s tasting but he couldn’t careless. His left hand now cups her cheek as his elbow pins her hand still. It was practically impossible for her to move.

“Matt, stop!”

Only then did he finally pull away. He lets her go, taking a few steps back as he pants from the adrenaline and anger poisoning his blood, “Leave.”

She blinks, completely confused as to what is happening to him, “What?”

“Leave this apartment and never come back.” Matt says coldly “I don’t want you to ever come back to my place, do you hear me?”

“I— What are you talking about?”

“I said, leave!”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on!” She yells back. She was afraid, her heartbeat must have told Matt about her true feelings but she wouldn’t run out of this place without getting any explanation. Not after that rude and forceful kiss he gave her just now.

Matt’s lips were locked in a thin line. He couldn’t piece the words he wanted to utter. There’s so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to shout, but all he could think about was the heartbreak his chest was concealing. His heart was aching and it pains him even more that she was oblivious about it.

“What happened, Matt?” She asks once again, this time with a softer tone though the state of her heartbeat was still erratic.

“This isn’t working.”

She blinks, hardly understanding his words, “What isn’t?”

“Us, this! Whatever this is.” He says as his hands do all the gestures of his frustrations “It’s not working anymore.”

“That’s certainly not what you said last night when you fucked me on the sofa.” She scoffs “What is wrong with you? What happened at that party?”

Matt’s breathing was uneven. His chest heaving up and down in the most foul way that he just wanted to grab his mask and find someone he could actually beat into pulp. He was frustrated. The aching in his heart amplifies with every ticking second and the fact that he’s put himself in this situation infuriates him even more. She was clear as the sky about what she wanted from this ‘relationship’. Matt has got no one else to blame about his burning fantasy than himself.

“I used to think that we can do this to waste some time,” He breathes in a low growl “Now I realise that you’re just wasting my time.”

“I’m wasting your time?”

Matt went tight lipped.

“I’m wasting your time,” She repeats, still in disbelief “I’m not the one who begs the other to stay till morning, Matthew. I’m not the one who texts the other every fucking night like a clingy boyfriend. If anything, you’re the one who’s wasting my time!”

“Well, then leave! What are you still doing here? Leave!”

There was a hint of salty taste in the air now. Matt knows that he’s crossed a line he’s never done before. Her heartbeat was still racing, but this time it was caused by a completely different reason. Before she was afraid and unsure, but now she was angry. So angry that Matt knew it wouldn’t be the kind of dispute that would subside in a week or two. This is the kind of anger that would leave marks that only time and the Universe could heal.

“Fuck you, Matt.”

A loud slam of the door was heard as she left him all alone in his apartment. The silence that follows was deafening. Matt could feel his apartment growing as his body shrinks down to the void he’s slowly drowning in. He’s burned all the bridges they’ve ever built before. As of tonight, it was certain that he’s lost a friend, a sex partner, and perhaps a lover.

[spilled-coffee-cup]

Until i start to for real work on my blog organization this will have to do

Hey! Sonoma here! 🤗, i have 4 main # (1-4) out of my total of 10 atm! so here's how to navigate them if you want to (disclaimer they are not completely up to date yet, i still have to go back on to older reblogs and tag correctly but yeah).

#sipping my ☕ : For stuff that I'm currently reading

#already on my second ☕ : For stuff I've read and finished

#giggles's to be read list ☕: For stuff i plan on reading or just haven't started yet (This name is likely to change but I'm not sure tho)

#expresso shots ☕: For one shots/singular post fics I've read and finish

#Sono's chatting time 🛋️ : Used almost exclusively for anecdotes or asks

#Beautiful Asks ☕🤎🤍 : For organizing the asks

#thoughts over ☕ (coffee) : For thoughts i have that are some how serious to me

#S rambling as usual : For my not so important rambles/thoughts

#scc!reblog : For self reblogs

#Sonoma.writes.ig💌 : For my work if I ever make some

Active side acc:

@meltedpainting

[puppy-steve]

“when’d you start painting your nails?”

the question catches eddie off guard. steve had come over earlier in the day to hang out and it was now close to 8pm. wayne came home a couple hours ago and made dinner for the three of them and eddie was honestly hoping steve would ask to stay the night.

“hm?” eddie aks, looking up from where he’s hunched over his notebook and sketching out his new npc.

steve waves a hand in his direction, lounging against eddie’s pillows like it’s his bed and not eddie’s (it could be their bed, eddie’s brain supplies). “your nails. you never had them like that before… y'know.”

eddie throws him a charming smile. “you been staring at my hands, big boy?”

the flush that graces steve’s cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed. “kind of hard not to,” he deflects, “when you use them like a second mouth.”

he’s talking about the way eddie gesticulates when he’s excited, but the double meaning is still there. even so…

eddie sets the notebook aside and spreads his fingers out, his rings and black nail polish on display.

“honestly,” he sighs. “after vecna and everything, i, uh. wasn’t having a really good time. compared to you guys, it was like i was nine years old again and watching my first horror movie and scared shitless.”

steve scoots closer. “we were like that, too, you know,” he says. “having a go with the upside down wasn’t the walk in the park we made it seem like. we just had more experience.”

eddie nods, then shakes his head. takes a deep breath and exhales. “it was chrissy who said i should start painting them.”

“really?”

“yeah. my nerves were shot and i kept chewing on them until they bled. hurt like a bitch, too, they were so sensitive. chrissy told me she’d do the same thing when her mom wouldn’t back off. said it made her hands look bad, so she started painting them to make them pretty again.”

eddie fiddles with his rings as he speaks so he doesn’t try to chip the polish away instead. his nails aren’t completely healed yet, but they’re getting there. he’s so lost in thought, he jumps when steve’s hand reaches out to cover his.

“i like it,” steve says quietly, rubbing eddie’s knuckles. “looks really metal.”

a grin blooms on eddie’s face and his heart skips a beat. “yeah,” he agrees. “metal.”

🥐☕💕 buy me a coffee?

[justmeinadaze]

I Have Nothing (If I Don't Have You) Part 8 (Steddie X You)

A/N: I was feeling some type of why and I think you'll figure it out as you read <3.

Warnings: Soft Dom Bodyguard Steddie/ Sub Singer Fem Reader, SMUT, spanking, choking, degrading (slightly), rough

ANGST: Dark Themes of addiction, overdosing, and relapse, mentions of domestic abuse with a previous partner, Y/N talks about her guilt when it comes to boys and how numb she feels over everything happening around her. Mentions of a parent in hospital, mother snaps at her and reader wonders why she's "not enough". Guys briefly talk about how her overdose affected them.

Word Count: 4116

Series here

Buy Me A Coffee☕ 

“Y/N, honey. You have to get back out there.”

It had been three months since your overdose and you were not doing well. The paparazzi and people on social media perceived you that way but inside you were fucking dying. Since you weren’t doing interviews, the stations were trying to get anyone they could in front of a camera. 

Simon’s mom cried, blaming you for his downfall while his sister insisted it should be you in the ground. Your previous agent made a statement expressing exhaustion at your behavior which is why HE let YOU go. People you thought were your friends like Allie talked about your vices and previous party lifestyle like it was something you used to enjoy. 

These people didn’t know you. 

They didn’t know what you were or had experienced. 

Sarah didn’t either but your new agent did genuinely care about your wellbeing. 

“Maybe, we can schedule like a controlled one on one with an interviewer you trust. You can answer some of those baseline questions and get your side out there.”

“What side, Sarah? Simon’s dead, I’m a diva and a delinquent. These are all facts.”

“No, Y/N, they aren’t. I know you and I know you’re not like that. You’re a good person and—”

Sighing, you get up and head towards the window, glaring through it into your many past memories. You were pushing everyone away including the two men who cared about you the most. You meant what you said when you told them you loved them which meant, to you, that you needed to protect them from the drama that was you. 

As their soft eyes followed you, you continued to ignore them as your agent heavily exhaled. 

“Ok. Ok. I understand. I’m not going to push you but as your old publicist I think we should at least release a small statement of some kind. Just text me what you want to say and—”

“’Fuck everyone. I am what you think I am.’”

Everyone in the room exchanges a glance before Sarah rises to her feet. After patting Steve’s shoulder, Eddie rises to walk her out, flashing her a reassuring smile before closing door. 

“How long are we going to do this, Y/N?”, the pretty boy asks as you continue to face away from him. “How long are you going to wallow in your self-pity?”

Your phone rings and you ignore it. You’ve been ignoring your phone in general which made them even more nervous. One of them always slept over while the other went home to change and grab some essentials. Even though you had the spare room they insisted on sleeping on the couch just in case. You didn’t sneak out nor did you want to. Your need for booze and drugs left when the numbness took over. 

“Miss Y/L/N phone. Security Mr. Munson speaking.”, he growled as he glared your way. Demeanor abruptly changing, he responded with a couple more uh huhs before glancing at the phone as it hung up. “Um, Y/N, that was your mom. Your dad… your dad is in the hospital. She said she just wanted you to know and then hung up on me.”

In your reflection within the window, they could see your eyes begin to water as you hugged your arms around your body. Since everything happened, they never once came to visit you nor did they try to call. This is the first time you were hearing from them and even from what Eddie told you, it sounded like they didn’t want you there. 

Anger suddenly clouds your mind as you stomp towards your bedroom and pull down your suitcase, throwing things inside of it haphazardly. 

“Would you like us to see when the next flight is available?”

“That’s not your job, Mr. Harrington. I have an assistant for that.”

“Yeah but we’ll be going with you so it’s not a problem.”

“No, you’re not.”

Chuckling sarcastically under his breath, Steve stepped forward till you felt his stomach against your side. 

“As your security, Miss Y/L/N, it is our job to keep you safe. That being said, we are going with you whether you like it or not but we will not interfere.”

“I can handle my family.”

“We know you can. You can handle them and we’ll handle everything else.”

“I said…no.”

“Fire us then.”, Eddie replied taking his place beside his friend. “Because that’s the only way we won’t go with you to protect you. Like Steve said, this is our job.”

Huffing, you zip up your bag and turn to head towards your phone to book the flight but instead bump into the man’s strong, broad chest.

“You two are no longer mine. I don’t need you to look out for me.”

“I didn’t hear the words ‘You’re fired’. Did you, Ed?”

“No, Harrington, I didn’t. That did sound like a breakup to me though. Which is fine. I guess we don’t deserve input into that conversation. Fuck us, right, sweetheart?”

Without saying another word, you walk away and allow them to take control.

***

When you make it to the hospital in your hometown, you pause just outside the room door with both men right behind.

“You have to open the door, ma’am.”, Steve instructed in a flat tone that pierced your heart.

They had been incredibly formal the entire plane ride, dressing up in suits, calling you things like “ma’am”, and not talking to you at all unless it was regarding anything job related. What you didn’t realize was it was taking all their energy to keep it together when all they wanted to do was scream. They loved you so much and once again they were being cast aside. 

They blamed themselves for crossing that emotional line with a client and Eddie finally made the choice that they should go back to the “proper etiquette”. 

“I haven’t seen them in ten years.”, you whisper.

They wanted to comfort you and tell you everything would be ok. That no matter what they were here for you but it seemed to them that is no longer what you wanted so they honored that by remaining silent. Clenching your jaw, you pushed open the barrier and sauntered through.

“We’ll be right here when you’re ready to leave, Miss Y/L/N.” 

After placing themselves on either side of the door inside the room, you stepped in further finding your father half-awake in a hospital bed with your mother holding his hand.

“Y/N? H-Hey, honey, what are you doing here? We told your assistant you didn’t have to come.”

“Eddie’s my security, mama, and I know but I just wanted to make sure dad was alright.”

“He’s doing fine. Just a little heart attack, no worries.” Your eyes widen at her words as she sighs. “I imagine the constant phone calls from your agent and the tv people didn’t help.”

“Hm. Maybe because something important happened to your daughter where I ended up in the hospital to.”

“Y/N, please. Not everything is about you. See this is why we didn’t want you here.”

Eddie’s posture stiffened as he forced himself to stay where he was and not drag you away from this toxicity. Sarah was right; this was the last thing you needed.

“This is why? Really? What about all the other times, huh? All the other times I got sick or offered to fly you down to come see me? Or the times I said I could fly to see you two and you told me no. What was the reason then?!”

“We are not having this discussion right now!”

“When then, mama!? When will I finally be enough for you!?” As she continued to ignore you, you began to sob. “Please! TALK TO ME!”

“Y/N…”, your father sighed weakly. “N-Now is not the time. Go…Go back to Hollywood and just…just go…”

Numbly, you nod as you turn around and push past the guys to hurry towards the elevator. 

***

As soon as you enter the hotel, you run to the kitchen and grab the wine bottle the concierge had given you as a gift but as soon as you try to open it, it’s yanked from your grasp. Steve pops open the top and you watch as he chugs some of it back before handing some to Eddie who does the same.

“I thought it wasn’t part of your job to keep me sober.”

“Your right it’s not but Sarah gave us specific instructions to keep an eye on you and since she’s been nothing but kind to us we don’t mind doing a little extra.”, the metalhead sasses as he tries to pour the rest of the bottle down the sink.

Shoving his chest, you try to grab the alcohol from his hand but he just holds it higher out of your grasp.

“Fuck you! You’re fired! Both of you!”

“Oh good. You can drink yourself to death, continue to spiral, and we don’t have to fucking watch!”

“GET OUT!”

“No problem, honey. We’ll leave as soon as we get back home.”

“I said NOW, Steven!”

“No, little girl. You don’t tell me what to fucking do. I was hired to protect you so that’s what we’re going to do until we get your spoiled, stubborn ass back home!”

When your hand flew, you immediately regretted the action especially when Steve’s head reared back around and his angry eyes locked with yours. The energy in the air was thick with a heaviness of frustration and pain but the need was stronger. 

That’s why you didn’t fight back when his large palm hooked around the back of your neck and crashed your lips to his. You didn’t realize how much you missed the taste of them as his tongue invaded your mouth and you grabbed fistfuls of his shirt to pull him as close to you as you could. 

“You wanna play rough, little girl.”, he panted. “We can play rough.”

As he lifted you into his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist and he carried you to your hotel bed, tossing you onto the mattress. Quickly collecting yourself, you balanced up on your knees and shoved his chest hard. Steve barely moved at the action, lightly shoving you flat onto your back and pinning you down with one hand as he utilized his other to free his cock from its confinement. 

When he pressed the tip to your mouth, you remained still as you pressed your lips together. Tilting his head in amusement, he smirked at you as you squeaked at the feeling of your pants and panties being dragged down legs. A ringed palm spanked you hard and when you winced your mouth opened enough for Steve to slide his length down your throat. 

“Shit. That’s it. Take it like we’ve taken all your bullshit these past few months.” Eddie spanked you again as you groaned around his friend making him mewl as he threaded his fingers tightly in your hair, holding you still as he subtly thrust his hips. “Y-You want us gone, honey? Don’t worry. As soon as we get home, we’ll leave you be and you’ll never fucking hear from us again.”

The metalhead’s tongue clouded your senses as he flicked and sucked rapidly at your clit. Your hands flew up pet his head but he promptly grabbed your wrists and held them down. 

Allowing you some air, Steve backed away and listened as you whined while Eddie built you up. Climbing up your frame, he slid his fingers inside of you, pumping them at a brutal speed that turned you into a sobbing mess as both their faces hovered over yours. 

“You definitely taught us a lesson, sweetheart. Don’t worry. All of this was our fault. We never should have crossed this line… Being there for you, taking care of you, LOVING you… We’re so fucking stupid.”

Your eyes roll back as you cum and they didn’t even allow you a moment to breathe as they manhandled you onto your hands and knees. Spanking you again, you moaned at the feeling of Steve spitting into your cunt before guiding himself roughly into your core. He overwhelmed you immediately, his thick, large cock stretching your walls at an animalistic pace they had never used with you before. 

“Steve…”, you mewled as your head hung. Falling onto your back, his hand took hold of your chin as he rolled his hips and growled in your ear. 

“Does my dick feel good, Y/N? Yeah, I bet it does. Is this what you wanted? Us to fuck you like we fucking hate you. Mmph… because you hate us don’t you? DON’T… YOU…?”

“Yes!”, you whine through gritted teeth. “Yes, I fucking h-hate you!”

“What do you hate most, little girl? The fact that we were genuine and made you happy?”, Eddie asked gripping a handful of your hair as he stroked his cock in front of your face. “The fact that we treated you with fucking respect even though you always gave us attitude? Or was it the fact that we have never loved anyone as much as we love you? So much so that we were willing to ruin our careers to be with you.”

Steve’s breathing warmed your shoulder as his mouth fell open and he thrust into your harder. 

“We have feelings too, Y/N. I think you forget that. Together and individually, we’ve had many women break our hearts but congratulations, baby, you now take the cake.”

Your body trembled as you came and chanted his name as they let you go with him shoving your face into the mattress chasing his high till he released his seed inside of you. 

Eddie grabbed your waist, flipping you on to your back, placing himself between your legs, and pushing his cock into your entrance. His palm wrapped around your throat and you moaned at the feeling as he slammed his lower half roughly into yours. 

“Munson’s last girlfriend used him for sex and favors. She always wanted backstage passes to see and meet the other bands. With mine I found her cheating on me in our bed when I came home from a tour cut short. She didn’t even apologize or do anything to keep me around… Just kept fucking him as I threw some shit into a bag and left.”

“Aw, Harrington, look at—fuck—look at little girl crying. Does it feel that good? Good because this is the last time you’re ever going to feel us inside you so I hope you enjoy it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I bet you are. Can’t say I’m not going to miss this tight little pussy.”, he answered in a tone you knew was fake. He was trying to sound authoritative but he was hurting. They both were…

“Do you know why you’re the worst?” When you shake your head, the long-haired boy slows, pulling his cock back to the tip before pounding it back into you over and over having you see stars. “Because you actually made us believe you were going to be different. That if we let go ourselves and took the risk, you’d do the same.”

“I’m so sorry, Eddie. You—mmm—deserve better.” His rhythm faltered as his concerned eyes scanned your face. “That’s why I’m letting you go.”

“Why?” When you didn’t respond, he laid flat against you with his lips to your ear. “Tell me why, Y/N.”

“Because I love you. I love you both.”

As he pumps into you at a faster pace, your nails ran along his shoulders and down his back pushing him as close to you as you could get him. 

“Louder.”

“I-I-I love—”

“Louder.”

“Ah! I love you, Eddie! I love you, Steve!” You cling to him as you cum and he grunts against your skin as he does the same. “I love you. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to be the reason for you to not be happy. I don’t want you to lose everything because of me. I—” 

Nicotine flavored lips cut you off as they softly kissed your own, silencing you as he gradually pulled out of your sore sex.

“Why am I not enough?”, you whisper. 

Steve lifts you into his arms and carries you to the bathroom, waiting as Eddie fills the tub with warm water. You allow them to clean you and take care of anything you needed with no words exchanged between you. As you wait for them to take you out however the metalhead is the first to speak. 

“You are enough. More than… we’ve told you that before but you still don’t believe it. You’ll never be enough, ma’am, until you realize that you are.”

Your bottom lips quivers as you listen to him speak. 

“Ma’am…”

“Yeah…ma’am. Until we get home that is.”

“You don’t have to…I mean you’re welcome to stay on…I was just…angry…”

“Maybe it would be best for everyone if we did leave.”

“Steve, please.”, you plead. “I am so sorry.”

His jaw tightens as he nods, pushing himself off the counter he was sitting on and heading back towards his bedroom. Hurling your body out of the bath, you practically ran to him as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

“I’ve done a lot of fucked up shit in my life especially after I started drinking and doing drugs. I’ve insulted people who were nothing but kind and been arrested for so many different things. I lost so many people I thought had my best interest in mind. None of that will ever compare to what I did to you two and not just within these last three months. I know I scared you when I overdosed.”

Steve breathily chuckled as pulled out of your grasp and turned to face you. 

“Scared us? No, Y/N, you TERRIFED us. We spent hours, fucking hours, looking for you and worried about who you might be with or what you were doing. I know everyone in your circle only cares about themselves but let me tell you what it was like for someone who actually gives a damn! Y/N, Simon was NOT a good man. He hurt you constantly not just emotionally but physically. He put his hands on you. I’m sorry that motherfucker is dead, I really am, but I can’t say I’m not glad he can never hurt you again.”

“Y/N, he knew you were sober but brought drugs over anyway.”, Eddie added. “Drugs you almost died taking. I don’t think you have any idea how much it destroyed me seeing you on the floor like that. Not just because I love you but I kept thinking, ‘Please God don’t let THIS be how she leaves the world.’”

His words hit your hard but not as hard as Steve’s next sentence. 

“I was—am—so fucking angry with you because it seems like…we’re not enough for you.”

Sobbing, you cling to him again, pressing your face into his bare chest as you break. After what feels like an eternity, his arms slowly rise as his fingers thread through your hair to hold you closer. Eddie does the same from behind, kissing your shoulder before resting his head against your skin. 

“Please don’t leave. Not yet. If you insist on going I’ll understand but wait till you find something first. Please.”

After they nod, both men guide you back to your bed and lay with you till you fall asleep tangled in their embrace.

##################

“I’m here with Y/N Y/L/N about three months after her overdose and I must say you look so healthy.”, the interviewer coos in a lighthearted tone. 

“Thank you. Physically I may be but I’m still struggling with a lot mentally and emotionally.”, you respond as you cross your legs in the chair you were in. 

Eddie and Steve were off to the side with Sarah, everyone keeping their eyes peeled as they take everything in. When you told your agent you were ready for a tv appearance, she found the easiest going person to take your exclusive but energies and allegiances could switch at any moment; she needed to be prepared. 

“I can imagine. What can you tell us about everything that you feel comfortable sharing?”

“Um, I did stumble a bit and relapsed but I did go to a 30-day rehab clinic. I’ve been trying to keep healthy relationships surrounding me but more than anything I’m learning how to be honest about what I’m feeling and my experiences.”

“That’s really good. Have you spoken with or made any kind of amends towards the Gates family?”

Sarah huffs as she begins to step forward, pausing only when you begin to speak. 

“I haven’t but I have heard what they have to say. I completely understand why they feel the way they do and I wish we could have gotten clean together. The truth of the matter is he never wanted to.”

“What about your friends and previous manager who say you were always the instigator struggling to—”

“That’s the key word here isn’t it? ‘Struggling.’ I struggled for years against an agent who only saw me as dollar signs and not a human being. He constantly pushed me past boundaries till I broke and even then he wanted more. I struggled with friends who only spent time with me to get free trips and VIP passes to anything while willingly providing me with drugs I should have avoided. I watched these people struggle as well offering to help financially anyway I can and in turn they sell me out for an exclusive.”

“I struggled with parents who never supported me and always see me as a nuisance. I haven’t seen them in so long but yet they still find ways to remind me I never became what they wanted. I struggled with Simon…hurting me constantly; calling me a whore and leaving bruises on me I’d find the next morning as I struggled to hide them. I struggled with my own self-image and always trying to understand why I was never enough. Why people only seemed to care about me when I had something offer…”

“I think the hardest thing I struggle with is how I don’t believe when people genuinely DO care that it’s real. My new agent and my security team are the only people I’ve felt safe with and yet I hurt them by pushing them away or ignoring them. I’m either afraid they’ll turn out like everyone else and hurt me or I’ll become the toxic monster everyone thinks I am and drag them down with me.”

“That being said, I’m, um, taking some more time to work on myself and continue to heal. When I come home, I’m going to finish my album, and focus more on the things I love.”

With that, you got up and walked out of the room ending the interview yourself. The sound of feet scurrying after you fill the hallway as your team chases after you.

“Y/N! Y/N, honey, that was amazing. You sounded confident and sincere and—” In the middle of Sarah’s sentence, you hugged your arms around her as she smiled and did the same. “I do love you, ya know?”

“I know. I love you to.”

You both giggle as she wipes her eyes careful not to smear her make up. 

“So you’re going out of town?”

“I’d like to go to Indiana. There are some people there I’d like to meet and learn more about.” When your eyes find theirs, you see many different emotions cycle through before landing on one you hope is good.

“Ok, just keep me updated and I’ll see you when you get back. I’m so proud of you.”

As soon as she leaves, you turn your body to face theirs. 

“If that’s ok…you’ve done so much for me and dug into my history to help me heal. I want to learn more about you…” As their beautiful irises continue to scan you over, you find yourself getting nervous as you began to fidget in place. “I mean, I should have asked but we don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I just—”

Fingers reach out to grip your jaw, pulling you forward as a set of lips firmly land on your own. 

“We can bring you home.”, Steve murmurs as his thumb caresses your cheek. 

After giving you a soft smile, he steps back allowing Eddie to tenderly kiss your lips as well. 

“I’m so sorry. I love you so much.”

“We know, sweetheart. We know. We love you to.”

##############

@rckstrbee @melodymishahiddlestan @nailbatanddungeon

@siriuslysmoking @micheledawn1975 @cositaslua

@munsonmoonshine86 @unfocused81 @paleidiot

@dad-steddie @aol19 @strngrlytn @mrsjellymunson

@needylilgal022

[todomochi-uwu]

Who. (2/?) J. Y & S. M

Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.

Other chapters: Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

Yunho kept checking the file in his hands, reading over and over the same words not being able to register anything, his head was all over the place, between the tiredness, the stress and his broken heart, concentrating was proving to be impossible.

“Careful, Jeong. If you think any harder your head might catch on fire.” Said Lee Minho entering the doctor’s launch with an empty coffee mug.

“Piss off, Minho.” He didn't turn his eyes from the paper, determined to make it work no matter how much it took.

Minho’s eyes focused on the taller man in front of him, his skin was paler than normal, a slight blue tint covered it; his eyes were sunk in their sockets, dark purple bags underneath them; lips dry and crusty; he looked thinner, he looked sick. Yunho and Minho weren’t by any means close, they had spent the entire med school fighting for the top spot in their class; Jeong Yunho had proved to be a real pain in the ass, managing to balance school, work, friends and a fucking three-way relationship while Lee Minho could barely sleep and see his, now, husband.

“Not that I care, Jeong but, are you okay?” Said Minho, leaning against the countertop and waiting for the coffee to be done.

Yunho tossed the folder on the table, completely done. He pressed his fingers against his eyelids, trying to calm the blinding headache he had been carrying around his entire shift. “I don’t think it’s any of your business, Lee.”

The cat-eyed doctor shrugged, not wanting to dig any further, he tried. He took his mug and made a beeline straight to the door, but he couldn’t help but look back at his school rival, and what he saw shocked him a bit. His shoulders were slumped, and shaking, his face in between his hands, and small but heavy sobs left his mouth. A suffering Yunho was something he had never expected to see, and while he thought it would bring him joy, it just made him feel weird. He would have to ask Jisung what was going on, he was friends with Mingi, and he would have to know.

______________________________________________________________

Mingi was not doing any better at work. He fell asleep on his desk, barely paid attention at meetings, and was hostile to his co-workers and possible clients. Jongho was done with attitude, he had been patient, as much as he could, and he tried to understand the situation, but it was becoming too much.

“Mingi, I am begging you, please go home, you cannot continue like this. Get some sleep, eat and come back when you are better.” Jongho said as softly as possible, not wanting to trigger another fight with the dirty blonde lawyer in front of him.

“Jongho, I’m okay. I would rather just be working, there’s nothing to do at home anyways.”

“Mingi…” He was interrupted.

“Jongho, I won't repeat myself, leave me alone.” He turned his chair away from the younger lawyer.

That was it. He was done.

Jongho slammed his hand against the desk, startling Mingi, “Listen to me, Mingi, I get that you are sad, okay? I get it. But you cannot come here and act like a fucking dick and expect everyone to be okay with it. We tried to be nice and give you a couple of weeks to recover, but so far, we have lost two important clients because of your attitude and you pissed off three more. I’m sorry she left, but I highly doubt she would come back if she saw the mess you’ve become. Yelling at people, turning work in late, getting drunk, fighting with Yunho, do you think she wants that? Because I highly doubt it.” He jabbed his finger into Mingi’s chest. “Get. Your. Shit. Together.” And with that he left the office, slamming the door on his way out.

Mingi sighed, taking off his tie. He closed his eyes trying to calm down, but it seemed impossible. Anxiety had been tormenting him for almost a month now, and it didn’t seem like it would stop any time soon. He misses you. A lot. He just didn’t know how to function without that missing piece. Nothing was working right now, his head was always a mess, always going back to that night, trying to remember every moment he neglected you; he was trying to balance out his pain and stress to not mess up his relationship with Yunho as well; while also trying to balance out work as to not get fired, or at least not to piss off Jongho even more, but nothing is working. He misses you, and without you, nothing in him works.

______________________________________________________________

Chan was in the kitchen bar working; his heavy and expensive headphones sat on the top of his head while he was nodding along to the rhythm of his last track. He kept replaying it to try and figure out what was missing, what he could change or fix, but he just couldn’t concentrate. Flashbacks kept showing up in his head, replaying again and again, memories of his college days, memories of the time he fell in love with his now roommate and failed to do something about it.

It was the winter semester; the campus was covered in snow and everyone found refuge inside the library. Chan was planning to go there and work on a paper that was due that same night, but once he saw the amount of people inside the building, he decided he wouldn’t be able to work there. And just as he was about to leave, he saw Hongjoong sitting on a couch in the corner, next to him was something that made the producer’s mouth dry. A woman so beautiful his eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing, his brain couldn’t comprehend what was happening, his feet moved on their own in that direction, he needed to talk to her, to know her name, to introduce himself. His friend got up as soon as he saw him, greeting him and introducing her. Y/n. That was her name, a name Chan would never be able to forget.

A friendship was established that day. You would start by hanging out with Hongjoong, going out to eat, watch a movie or to a party; but soon it became just the two of you. Hanging out at each other’s dorms, he showed you some of his music, and you showed him some of her stories; at first, he would walk you back to her room every night, but after some time you would stay over, “it’s easier” you said. One fateful night, Christopher finally made a move, giving you a quick peck on the lips while listening to your favourite artist’s latest album, the largest seconds of his life were right after, waiting for your reaction; you ended up fucking on top of his desk, pushing all his books, and cd’s to the floor.

That was the way the next months were spent, hanging out and finding any and every excuse to have sex, but never giving a title to what you were. Chan just assumed you weren’t ready for that kind of commitment, convincing himself he was fine with what you had, not admitting he was just too much of a coward to ask if you felt the same as him.

“I just don’t understand him, Jisung. One day he acts as if we were a couple, and the next he calls me his best friend. Friends don’t treat each other the way we do, friends don’t do what we do.”

“Maybe he isn’t ready for that kind of commitment, he would just rather stay as friends with benefits.” Jisung pat her on the back, trying to comfort her.

“But I don’t want to be just friends with benefits.” You pouted her lips.

“Hey, come on, don’t be sad. I'll tell you what, why don’t you come with me to Wooyoung’s party this Friday? You’ll have fun and forget, at least for a bit, about Chan.”

Christopher’s first mistake was introducing you to Jisung. The second one was allowing you to befriend him. And his last, but most fatal one was not going to that party. Why? Because Yunho and Mingi were there.

“Y/n, this my friend Mingi. Mingi, this is Y/n.” And just like that, it was over before it could even begin. That same night Mingi had introduced you to Yunho, and they both were heads over heels for you, they asked you to hang out the very next day and while at first you were confused as to how it would work, they won you over, pushing completely out the idea of Chan off your head.

He remembered the first time you talked about them, he thought you had just made out with one of them at the party, and while he wasn’t exactly happy about it, he could let it slide, no idea of what was about to come. Texts left unanswered; calls that went to voicemail; and long nights waiting for you to show up, but at some point, it became clear, that you were not just sleeping around with them, you were in love. That very same night he went out and got drunk out of his mind, only being able to get back home after Changbin and Minho found him trashed on a bench in front of their building. He blamed himself, if he hadn’t been so scared, if he had just tried, you would be his, and he promised himself that if that door ever opened again, he would be there. But as time went on, it became more apparent that would never happen… until now.

He kept repeating over and over to himself that you weren’t ready, that you still love them and that you were still mourning that relationship, but he couldn’t help himself, he wanted you.

The last month he had been in some kind of hell in heaven. When you first had shown up, he was pissed off beyond comprehension, how could they let this happen? How could they treat you like that? He had spent every second of his existence since he met you, loving and worshipping the ground you walk on and they had let you slip away? Unbelievable. But he couldn’t help but see the perks of all of this. He was the one to console you, to build you back up, and through the course of the weeks, you were better.

He would come back home to you cooking, greeting him the second he went in; you telling him about your day or a new show you were watching; you showed him your work and asked his opinion. Everything went back to how it was; it was even better. This is what he had been missing out all this time?

“Good morning, Channie.”

“Welcome back, Chan. I made some spaghetti; I hope you like it.”

“Hey, Chan. How was work?”

Oh, blissful domesticity. But everything was too good to be true. They would show up in the most subtle ways, in the middle of a conversation, in the notifications of your phone, even in the clothes you wore, they still smell like them; your ex-boyfriends were everywhere in his apartment, tormenting him. And, of course, he wasn’t blind, he could see it, your face still showed how heartbroken you were, and he could also hear it at night, small sobs escaped your mouth, whispering their names again and again.

Yunho…

Mingi…

Never his name.

______________________________________________________________

Jisung had just arrived home, his hands full of grocery bags balancing them while trying to open the door, and just as he was about to spill everything on the ground, a soft hand came to his rescue.

“Jesus, Sungie be careful.” The person behind him giggled.

“Y/n?” His eyebrows furrowed, confused, but he still leaned in and hugged you. “What are you doing here? How did you get in the building?”

“Oh, I live here now.”

“Mingi gave up his rent control apartment? Is he crazy?”

“Um… not exactly.” You scratched the back of your head.

“Okay, come inside and tell me what’s going on.”

…

“And that’s how I ended up living with Chan.” You took a small sip of the hot chocolate Jisung had prepared.

“Have you talked to them?”

You shook your head.

Jisung’s arms were folded against his chest, his eyes looking directly at yours, not sure what to say, “So it’s over between you and them?”

“I don’t know, Hannie. I love them, so much it hurts, but I don't think they feel the same way, they act as if I'm not even there, as if I'm not important to them.” You lay down on the kitchen table, controlling your breathing so you won't start crying.

“Well, that’s just not true.” He put his hand on top of your head, petting you, “Mingi can be an idiot sometimes and the same goes for Yunho, but they love you, baby. From the very first moment they met you, they have loved you, maybe they just lost their tracks for a moment, but they will come back to you.” He kissed you on the forehead, “and if for some reason they don’t, I will be there to help you pick up the pieces.”

______________________________________________________________

Minho arrived late at night, completely done with work and with stubborn patients who thought they knew more than him because they read an article on the internet. Jisung ran to the front door as soon as he heard the jiggling of the keys, ready to receive his grumpy husband. He accompanied him into the kitchen, where he served him a hot plate of his favourite food and told him about this day.

“I found the chips you like on sale so I bought a couple, I also bought the ingredients I was missing for that ramen you want to try, oh and I tried that juice I’ve been craving, but it wasn’t that good.” Minho couldn’t keep up with the number of things that came out of his husband’s mouth, but he was happy to listen. “Oh, oh my god I almost forgot, guess who I ran into?”

“Who?” He said while shoving a spoonful of soup into his mouth.

“Y/n, she broke up with Mingi and Yunho, and she’s staying with Chan.”

Minho choked, coughing aggressively, not believing the words that came out of Jisung’s mouth. Everything made sense now, that’s why the puppy-like doctor had been so miserable the last couple of weeks. And why Chan had been avoiding him lately. He got up and headed towards the door, “Give me a second, love I’ll be right back.”

He made his way down the hall, he was in no mood to do this, but it had to be done. He had witnessed first-hand how completely devastated had Chan been after you had broken his heart (not that he thinks you did it on purpose), how hard it was to get him to shower, to go to work, how long it took him to go back to normal, and he feared it would happen again. He pounded on the door, not caring if the neighbours next door complained. The door opened harshly, a sleep-deprived Christopher on the door side, looking at him as if he had grown to heads.

“Min, it’s two in the morning, what the hell are you doing here?”

The doctor grabbed him by the arm and shoved him into the wall next to the door, “You are going to explain to me exactly what you think you are doing.”

“I'm not doing anything. She’s my friend, I want to help her move…”

He interrupted, “What? Move on? Were you planning to be her saviour so she would fall in love with you? Bang Chan, she’s been engaged to them for almost a year now, they are just going through a rough patch…”

“They broke up.”

“They will get back together, it's more than obvious, they are in love.” He whispered yelling, he was worried, did Chan think he had a chance?

“They neglected her, Minho they took her for granted, I would…”

“Chan, listen to me, she’s not in love with you, whatever you two had it's over, it's been over for years, for Christ's sake.” He shook his shoulders, trying to get some sense into him.

“I know what I'm doing.”

“You clearly, don’t.” He pushed his friend back into his apartment and went back to his. His entire body ached, but anxiety filled his head, not letting him rest.

______________________________________________________________

“So, she finally dumped your ass, good for her honestly,” Minho said as he entered Yunho’s office. The latter one looked up at him, the look in his eyes completely dead. “Geez, you look like shit.”

“What do you want, Minho? I'm busy, I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

“I know where she is.”

“What?” Yunho looked at him with wide-open eyes. “Don’t you fucking dare lie to me about this.” He got up and grabbed Lee by the collar and shook him, “How the fuck do you know that?”

“Because I saw her.” Little white lie, but he technically did know where she was. He pushed him back, “I don’t like you, Yunho, at all. But I know what it's like to be in your shoes, so I’ll make you a deal, you get your shit together and I might just tell you where she is.”

______________________________________________________________

Yunho’s hands kept trembling, he had barely been able to drive home without crashing. He wanted to scream, to cry, to tell Mingi what Minho had told him, all at the same time, but he also thought, what would he say? How could he apologize? Would she take them back? He went into the house, Mingi was lying on the couch, a book in his hands and glasses sitting on his face, his eyebags and skin tone resembling his boyfriend’s, he turned to look at him, noticing how fidgety and dishevelled he looked.

“Are you okay? Did something happen at work?” He got up and approached Yunho, he grabbed his face in his hands and caressed his cheeks.

“Um…” he bit off some of the skin in his lip, not knowing how to deliver the news, his head couldn’t put the words together, not even able to process them. “Minho told me something today.”

“Ugh, that asshole. I don’t know how Jisung married that guy, he's such a nice guy and Minho is so…”

Yunho interrupted him, not able to hold it in any longer, “Minho says he knows where Y/n is staying.”

Mingi felt how the air left his body, all thoughts abandoning his mind in the same way, tears were quick to rush to his eyes, “What?”

“Yeah, he saw her and knows where she’s been staying.” He paused to order his next words, “And he said he will tell me if we manage to get our shit together.”

Mingi took him into his arms and squeezed him till he was out of breath, not being able to contain his happiness. Together they cried and smiled while the thought of everything going back to normal filled them, that was until something crossed their minds at the same time, would you even want them back?

______________________________________________________________

Tag list:

@tunaasan @scuzmunkie

[pitchsidestories]

Better latte than never II Sam Kerr x Reader

chelsea women masterlist I word count: 629

You loved the first days in autumn, when the leaves in Hyde Park were bursting in the colours of yellow, red and orange, and you could take your morning walk in the crisp air while your girlfriend was still asleep, covered under several blankets because according to the Australian she was always cold. Excitedly you realized that now was the time to get the cinnamon buns from the bakery which laid just across from the home you shared, the lovely smell coming up everytime you passed that building.

On the other hand, Sam hated autumn, when it’s started to get freezing outside, the early evenings were already dark and the iced coffee she was loving so much was not the right beverage for that time of year. So, your plan was to show her the beautiful things September and the upcoming months had to offer, and you would begin today with getting her a pumpkin spice latte in the café you both loved which was a bit hidden from the highstreets of the big city.

“Good morning, love!”, you called her as you entered your bedroom after your running walk through the park. “Morning…“ Her mumble was muted by the blanket that she had pulled over her face. With the coffee in hand, you sat next to her on your unmade bed side. “I got a surprise for you.“, you smiled, hoping that it would help your girlfriend wake up.

She threw off the blanket and blinked at you with tired eyes. “Is it coffee?“ “Yes.“ Carefully, you held out the hot cup for her to take but instead she just eyed you warily. “That’s not iced.“, she said, more a statement than a complaint. You shrugged innocently, “I know. But it’s getting colder outside so I thought something warm would be much nicer in this weather. Just try it.“ When Sam still didn’t react, you added, “I promise I won’t poison you.“

Finally, your girlfriend sat up in her bed, looking absolutely adorable with pillow marks on the right side of her face. The smile on your face grew wider as she finally took the coffee out of your hands. With a sceptical look, she took a big sip. You watched expectantly as she tried your favourite fall drink. Sam grimaced as soon as she tasted the coffee. “What is that? That’s horrible! Thats’s not even coffee!“

You tried to hide your disappointment and covered it with masked cheerfulness: “Sammy, you should start getting ready for training, you know how much Emma hates players who are running late.” This unlocked another groan from the mouth of the striker as she peeled herself out of the warmth from the bed.

Much to your own surprise aswell as your teammates Guro Reiten, Millie Bright, Erin Cuthbert, Sam came back after your lunch break a few days later with two pumpkin spice lattes in her hands. The Scottish midfielder was the first one to speak up: “Sam, I never saw you with anything else than an iced coffee in your hand!” “Well, I guess unfortunately it’s not the season for that, so I needed to find an alternative. To be fair, I did not like it at first, but it reminds me of my girlfriend and turns out I do like a Pumpkin Spice Latte especially on cold and windy fall days.” With these words she handed you the hot drink, while you were thanking her for it.

Maybe the Australian will never love autumn as much as you but you were always sure of her love for you. And you fell for her like the leaves of the tree did in the exact moment while you both were chatting with your teammates who were also one of your closest friends.

Let us know if you enjoyed this short and sweet oneshot. It's the first part in our ☕ Latte League series. ☕

[sunnylands-world]

Hii this is my 3rd time requesting so no need to rush, but if you have time could you do a dad!draco fic? Also I hope you're doing well as always :) Thank you!

Little charm

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x daughter x female reader

Summary: after the war you and Draco bring some light back into your lives

Word count:458

Warning: mentions of dead parents, insecure reader, and of course pregnancy

Universe: Harry Potter

A/n: sorry for the wait lovely anon. I'm doing good, thank you for asking and I hope your doing the same. Man I miss writing! it's like needing coffee ☕ but anywho here's that fluffy content, hopefully I'll have smutty thoughts soon. Hope you all like it leave kind thoughts in the comments, their appreciated.

All mistakes are mine

It was an accident really, you're graduation night, the last year of Hogwarts. Draco's father was taken to Azkaban. He and his mother were left with the mansion, him being next in line to take the wealth. Draco and Narcissa were not necessarily loved by other wizards after all they had done, but they were left in peace. You followed your boyfriend to the manor, moving in with him and his mom after your family died fighting in the war.

You were shattered, never fully recovering from seeing loved ones killed in front of you, but Draco held you close when you'd awake in a sweat with heavy breaths just like you did for him. Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months. Draco had matured after everything but he and you hadn't been mature enough to use protection [not that you were against having kids] so you ended up getting pregnant with your daughter: Lavandula Narcissa Malfoy.

You named her Lavandula because you'd think of the field filled with the plant as something easy to rest in, pretty in smell, and calming. [And because lavender was taken by a witch that you didn't want your child in relation to.] Her middle name, after her grandmother because her love for the people she cared for always shined and you loved that about her. Your little girl was surprisingly what you both needed.

She brightened the place, gave it color and healed your broken heart after the loss. She was spoiled rotten by Draco, clearly a daddy's girl as she whined and cried for him. You were glad she got the comfort Draco gave you, protection and love. He'd wake quickly at night rocking her in his arms, Her head against his chest as her eyes fluttered back into her dreams. He'd kiss her and your forehead tucking you both in.

You'd always compliment him on how well he was as a dad since you knew that was something he strived to be and he never failed even as she grew older running through the house. He'd twirl her like a princess in a fairy tale, buy her things fit for a queen and read her to sleep till she'd sigh in peace. You almost cried watching your husband care for her.

He even made time to care for you the same, hovering over your shoulder in the mirror when you'd doubted yourself since you had new changes to your body after your daughter.

He'd smile gently, eyes sparkling like the day he saw you, kiss your neck, hands around your waist as he told you how beautiful you were. So all in all Draco Malfoy was an amazing father.

Draco lovers and requests

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