#triple drabble!

[starryeyedjanai]

As soon as the words left her mouth, Robin wished she could take them back.

Because I love you rang out like an echo in her ears.

“You—what?” Chrissy asked, eyes wide and shocked.

Robin had just wanted to tell Chrissy that she deserved better, to make her see she deserved more than crumbs from the people she dated. But Chrissy had gotten a little defensive and the words had blurted out of Robin’s mouth when Chrissy asked why she even cared.

“Robin,” Chrissy whispered, her eyes now wet with unshed tears and Robin had to leave. She couldn't stay and have the love of her life tell her to her face that she didn't want her. She already knew.

She shook her head and made for the door—to leave, to get out of here, to go anywhere but here.

She felt a hand on her wrist, softly wrapping around it like she could shake it free if she wanted to. She didn't want to. She’d never been able to pull away from Chrissy even when it hurt her.

She turned back.

“I didn't know you felt that way,” Chrissy said, pulling at her wrist, still gentle.

Robin stepped closer—she’d go wherever Chrissy wanted her to.

“If you’re gonna break my heart, please just do it so I can leave,” Robin said, voice shaky.

“I don't wanna break your heart,” Chrissy said, tears finally falling over her lashes. “I wanna kiss you and tell you that I love you too.”

Robin brought her hands up to wipe away the spilled tears, searching Chrissy’s face for a lie but finding none.

“I love you,” Chrissy said again, and Robin let out a laugh, a fragile little thing.

She cupped Chrissy’s face and pressed her mouth against hers, whispering the words back.

[infiniteeight8]

Stiles is a fox charmer or foxes consider him their leader

Since the association between Stiles and foxes is because of the Nogitsune (at least, to my knowledge), I’m using that as an inciting incident.

-

It takes Stiles a while to notice. Things are so fucked up after the Nogitsune that odd wildlife behavior doesn’t register. But eventually it calms down enough that his eye for patterns notices them. The foxes. Whenever Stiles is within a hundred yards of the Preserve, at least one fox can be found in the brush, watching him. Usually more than one.

He tells Deaton, who brushes him off, and the pack, but Scott just shrugs and says to let them know if the foxes do more than follow him. Peter seems more interested than the others, but he doesn’t speak up. 

For weeks, nothing changes. Then a witch kidnaps Peter.

No one can track him, the witches have gone to ground, and Scott seems like he’s looking for an excuse to stop searching, though he goes along with the plans the others propose. Stiles is furious, and maybe a little scared, when he storms out of a pack meeting and into the Preserve.

The foxes come boiling out of the bushes as if summoned, at least a dozen of them. “I need to find Peter,” he tells them. Really he’s just venting his frustration. How could the foxes do anything if werewolf noses can’t find him?

But they draw closer. The underbrush continues to rustle as more join the gathering. “I need to find Peter Hale,” Stiles repeats, heart pounding. This is stupid He doesn’t even have anything of Peter’s with him to share with them.

Apparently, it doesn’t matter. After a breathless pause, the foxes scatter into the Preserve.

Stiles waits.

Sixteen minutes later, one of them returns. 

It leads him straight to Peter.

“Aren’t you full of surprises,” Peter murmurs.

“Secrets,” Stiles corrects. This doesn’t feel like something he should share. Not yet.

Peter smiles. “Of course.”

[mintwithchoco]

Obedient

tripleS Yubin x Male Reader

Word Count: 100 words

Categories: smut, drabble

i blame the stylist for this. also i did your fucking job @octoberautumnbox, so you're welcome.

“Good girl!”

“Yes?”

She turns red immediately, and you couldn't contain your laughter. It’s already the norm for Yubin to react whenever she hears that specific call. Saving herself from the embarrassment, she drags you away from the dog park to end the date.

But it was only the beginning of an eventful night.

Because a few minutes later, Yubin was on all fours, her mouth open, drooling, gasping, begging, as you thrust into her tight pussy mercilessly, filling her up. Further emphasizing her obedience, you pull her head closer by the neck to recite the magic words.

“Good girl.”

[angelickks]

💿 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝑹𝑼𝑰𝑵 𝑴𝑬¹¹¹

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||

a soundtrack of absolute chaos and filth. lyric-inspired smut drabble collection. pedro pascal! characters x fem!reader nsfw, mdni 18+

main pedro pascal mlist!

𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀

01. LES — Joel Miller

♬⋆.˚“Girl, I wanna know, are you ready to cry? ʻCause I'm no good.” He tells you he’s bad for you. Then makes you come so hard you forget your own name. emotionally unavailable sex • self-destruction • filthy confessions disguised as fucking

02. OFF TO THE RACES — Harry Castillo

♬⋆.˚“My old man is a bad man, but I can’t deny the way he holds my hand…” He pays for dinner, your shoes, and the bruise on your thigh. sugar daddy dynamics • power play • possessive luxury

03. SHE WILL BE LOVED — Francisco “Frankie” Morales

♬⋆.˚“I’ve had you so many times, but somehow I want more.” He always thinks he’s not enough. So when you show up again, he fucks you like a man starving. possesive!frankie • friends with benefits and feelings • pure desperation

04. NORMAN FUCKING ROCKWELL — Javier Peña

♬⋆.˚“You fucked me so good I almost said ‘I love you.’” He’s chaotic. You’re worse. You fight. You fuck. You stay. biting banter • sex as emotional warfare

05. TOUCH TANK — Jack “Whiskey” Daniels

♬⋆.˚“He’s so pretty when he goes down on me.” The kind of man who tastes luxury and makes you beg for more.

𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐁

06. PYRAMIDS — Din Djarin

♬⋆.˚“You say it’s big, but you take it—Ride cowgirl.” The helmet stays on. You don’t complain.

07. LOVE IS STRANGE — Francisco “Frankie” Morales

♬⋆.˚“How do you call your loverboy? Baby, oh baby…” He’s always at your beck and call

08. FATHER FIGURE — Joel Miller

♬⋆.˚“I’d love to be your daddy. Anything you have in mind.” He’s too old. You’re too eager. It works.

09. BABYDOLL — Francisco “Frankie” Morales

♬⋆.˚“I can’t move on, babydoll.” He begs with his mouth, not his words.

10. DEVIL’S BACKBONE — Joel Miller

♬⋆.˚“I've fallen for someone who's nothing like you. He's raised on the edge of the devil's backbone” He’s bad. You want him anyway.

11. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE — Harry Castillo

♬⋆.˚“Don’t bring me to tears when I just did my makeup so nice.” You look too pretty to cry—but he makes you anyway.

12. ULTRAVIOLENCE — Marcus Acacius

♬⋆.˚“He hit me and it felt like a kiss.” He’s war incarnate. You kneel anyway.

𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐂

13. TOO SWEET — Javier Peña

♬⋆.˚“You’re too sweet for me. I take my whiskey neat.” You’re soft. He’s not. That’s why it works.

14. ME AND MR. JONES(MILLER) — Joel Miller

♬⋆.˚“Nobody stands between me and my man.” You’re his little secret, until you’re the only thing he can think about.

15. SILVER SPRINGS — Marcus Pike

♬⋆.˚“You’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you.” You stayed in his sheets. Even after you left.

16. YOU’RE SO VAIN — Jack “Whiskey” Daniels

♬⋆.˚“You’re so vain, you probably think this song is about you.” He’s smug, Southern, and sinfully good between your thighs—and he knows it.

17. THE CHAIN — Clint Flood

♬⋆.˚“If you don’t love me now, you will never love me again.” He says he’s done with you. But God help the man who touches you next.

𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐧' 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬: 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐊𝐒

[octoberautumnbox]

Orientation Week

tripleS Gong Yubin & Male Reader

Categories/Warnings: smut

Word count: 0.7k

| Main Fic || Epilogue |

a/n: yuri fics cooking too long have this in the meantime

~~~

Your phone vibrates again, same as always. You note the tardiness–five whole minutes. She's never this late under normal circumstances, but getting anything at all this late means getting something special. 

You unlock your phone, open your messages. Yubin's name is in bold letters, and the typing indicator only then disappears, a split second before a new message pops up in your chat. You read them from the notification bar: 

Yubin sent 6 photos. Kaede's out Had fun with these Hope you do too 😘

Delayed gratification is nonexistent when it comes to Gong Yubin; there is never any point to it when she doesn't believe in it either. At this point, it's less a tease and more a nuisance when you don't open her messages by 10:07 pm. She gets cute about it sometimes, but something tells you you're in for a treat tonight. 

You're met with a screen full of Yubin, her phone covering her face as she takes her selcas, but that isn't the main point–tonight she's laying on her bed, in a skirt much too short for anyone to wear outside. She has it fastened around her waist, showing off her puffy cunt. Her fingers spread her moist lips while another grazes her clit, and even though you know it's just a photo, you could almost see how she plays with herself and how sexy her moans sound. 

The next picture is none much better: she sits relaxedly on the floor in front of her mirror, her white blouse unbuttoned all the way, showing off the valley of her breasts still covered with the nearly see-through top. She drapes an arm under her tits as she pushes them up, and her thin striped necktie looks hotter than ever on her. It turns you on so much more that she doesn't hide it–usually these pictures are taken in the bathroom, in the tub or with the mirror over her sink–but with the room all to herself, she takes advantage of everything she can to entice you over.

Next still is the same pose, but with her necktie between her teeth, and she covers only her eyes with the phone this time. A smile graces her lips as she shows the top shrugged off her shoulders to reveal her stiff nipples. She squeezes her breast for you, index and middle fingers pinching her nub. You could almost hear her giggles as if you were right there with her, watching her strip for you again.

The fourth photo, and likely the rest too, is much more daring than anything you get when Kaede is around: still on the floor, Yubin sits with her legs open, again showing her pussy, with the top completely off her. The skirt is unfastened and merely balanced on her waist with nothing holding it there, as if the lightest gust of wind or the wrong change in position will bare her completely naked.

After that is a photo that reminds you of something you sorely miss: Yubin brings two fingers into her wet cunt, all the while she squeezes her tits together with her arms. You recall one night you went over and made love to her just like that–pulling her wrists towards you for leverage while you fucked her cunt–and she said she never felt so good. And you finally realize the play.

The last photo is of her bent over, showing off her perfect ass, legs apart, and spreading her thighs to show you how much she misses you. You can tell by the way her thighs shine and the darker spot on the carpet that she got herself off while taking these, and it's an invitation if there ever was one.

Weigh your options, consider your consequences. Your class tomorrow is 8:30 am, it's the sociology class you'd pass even if you only took the final, it's interesting though, you still have five free absences in it. Pros and cons fail to tip the scale in either direction, so it's up to a mere flip of the proverbial coin. 

As if on cue, your decision is made for you. Yubin sends another set of messages:

Done? 😊 If not, come over Kaede texted me where her lube is 😉

~~~

a/n: oh right lmao @sinswithpleasure here :DD

| Main Fic || Epilogue |

[airas-story]

Stephen learns accidentally that Tony likes monsters

“I’ve told you—” Tony’s hissed whisper woke Stephen. “—not while Stephen’s staying the night.”

Stephen barely kept from stiffening, mind racing. Was Tony on the phone, talking to— He shut the thought off. No, Tony… he wouldn’t. 

A hissing noise, a mix of a snake and air escaping a balloon, answered Tony. 

“I know you don’t like it back home, but it’s rude to hide under the bed when Stephen’s here.”

More hissing. “Yes, I know you weren’t here during sex. But some people get creeped out by people in the room while they’re sleeping.”

A whistle. “I know you don’t consider yourself a person; it’s the principle. Sleep under the bed in the spare room.”

Stephen shifted quietly; this conversation kept getting more and more bizarre. He froze. A bulbous, furry thing, with six eyes and leathery wings protruding from its back, perched on the bedside table, using the creepiest version of puppy eyes Stephen had ever seen.

A Glyph monster. Danger: Class A.

It caught sight of Stephen. It shrieked and tumbled off the bedside table.

Tony froze, slowly turning to face Stephen. “I can explain.”

“How in the world did you befriend a Glyph monster?” Stephen hissed. 

Tony opened his mouth, then shut it again. “They hid under my bed as a kid,” Tony said finally. “No one believed me, but Jarvis humored me. Told me monsters were more scared of me than I was of them… and I didn’t want the monsters to be scared.” He shrugged. “This one is Pleeithik.”

How in the world did Stephen even respond to this? Wong was never going to believe him. Pleeithik peered over the side of the bed. “Well,” Stephen managed finally. “If they’re your friend.” He looked at the monster. “Pleasure to meet you, Pleeithik.”

Tony beamed.

[kabr0ztrousers]

Kabr0z Writes episode 134: Forevermore

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

Ao3!

CWs: noncon; knotting;

A/N: It is late, and I am on the poorly side, so enjoy another nice short one.

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

The night was freezing. You regretted offering to work late to get the project in, but you needed the overtime hours. It probably wasn't worth it. Now you've missed your last train home and didn't even make enough on top to make up a taxi fare. So you walked.

Your heels clacked against the road surface as you clutched your jacket around yourself. Had you known you'd be walking home tonight, you'd have worn trousers rather than a skirt, and probably gone for a thicker pair of tights. As it was, you could feel the wind on your legs as you went, the pace you were keeping the only thing stopping you shivering.

Noise from a rooftop. A dark shape from above. Dank fur and powerful arms. Dizzying acceleration. You made out the group receding, before landing with a thump on a flat roof. The dark shape that grabbed you was hunched over you, glowing red eyes staring as one brutally clawed hand held you down.

Pain. Tears. Clothes turned to rags. Cold night air. The shape panted above your nude body. Heat radiated from it. A sharp-toothed maw closed about your neck. Claws dug into your thigh. It opened your legs, pressing against you. Warm wetness spread onto you. You struggled. It held you.

You screamed as it entered you. The overwhelming smell of damp fur. Claws cutting your shoulders. The thump-thump-thump against the roof as it drove on. Your fists battered against matted hair. It did not relent. Its jaw tightened. A warning. Screams became whines. Panting turned to grunting. A bulbous swelling slapped against you, threatening entry. You twisted and turned to no avail. It pressed on.

It hilted in you. You sobbed. Stretched out. Twitching and clenching. Heat filled you. Spreading inside. Making you his.

Forevermore

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

This one's probably the shortest I'll try to pass off as an episode, at a super tight 300 words. Unless anyone specifically requests a wordcount less than this, in which case I could go lower.

Either way, hope you all enjoyed it!

[sizzlingcloudmentality]

boys like you

Frankie Morales x Benny Miller | wc ~1.3k | explicit, mdni | ao3

summary: a movie night gets steamy, Stallone means making out, basically no plot

warnings: mlm, homophobes might feel a slight tingle in their panties, established relationship, dry humping, finger sucking, cumshot, oral, petnames (baby, pretty boy), a dash of dirty talk and praise, Spanish (guapo=handsome, mírame=look at me)

a/n: my follower milestone drabble for @qunariagenda, thank you so much for asking for some FishBen!! I chose the movie nights prompt (but the guys are pretty good with their hands, so I'm giving myself a half point for that). I hope you like it! and special thanks, as always, to @guiltyasdave for the beta and hype 💛

songspiration: boys like you - tanerélle (i LOVE her, check her out)

With Benny it has always been about his hands and fingers. Plucking the strings of his guitar, at night when they were deployed in some sandy hole or wet ditch. Punching some opponent straight in the face during a fight. Holding a gun. Pulling a trigger. Fighting for his life with his hands trying to crush a windpipe of someone who's been declared as their enemy. Cutting up herbs and meat for a legendary BBQ. Pulling women onto the dancefloor and feeling them up with a boyish grin that lets him get away with almost anything. Pulling Frankie in for a kiss, fingers splayed on his nape.

Like right now.

Both of them haven’t paid much attention to the movie they wanted to watch. Something with Sylvester Stallone, which always means making out. Because they know all of Stallone’s movies, like the back of their–

“–hand,” Benny mutters, not even completely breaking away from the kiss. “Give me your hand.”

Something about this big guy and his low voice make Frankie cave, always. Especially when Benny sounds so sweet, needy, already sucking Frankie’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugging on it. Like he can’t get enough. Maybe he really can’t get enough.

Frankie holds out his hand, the one he reluctantly pulled away from Benny’s hair, and a dazed smile spreads on his face when Benny rubs his cheek into his palm.

The smile turns into a bitten lip when Benny starts guiding their intertwined hands down, along his neck and the rumpled tshirt, slow, so damn slow over his stomach, flexing his muscles because he knows it makes Frankie twitch in his shorts, and then down the front his sweats. 

Rubbing. Pressing, making Frankie’s fingers wrap around the thick outline of his hard cock.

“You feel this? Feel how hard I am for you?”

Benny tightens his grip around himself and Frankie's hand, tentatively palming himself, groaning when he gets back on top of Frankie. Slotting so perfectly between the thighs of the older man and trapping his hand between their bodies, between their straining cocks.

“Say it, Morales,” Benny murmurs, his voice honeyed and scraping before he gently nips on Frankie’s earlobe.

“Dios, I feel it.”

He gasps, the air knocked out of his lungs when Benny cages him in between his arms and starts grinding against him, against his hand, against his own hard-on. Frankie can’t move his hand, all he can do is feel how Benny rolls his hips back and forth, pushing the whole length of his clothed cock over Frankie’s palm and further until he feels Frankie’s finger curl over his balls.

Benny grunts with his face hidden in the crook of the other man's neck, then pulls his hips back and slowly pushes forward again. The same pace Frankie likes to set to feel Benny writhe and plead. Faster, oh god, baby, please, just a lil’ faster. He never goes faster. Nice and slow ‘till the end.

Frankie knows that there will be no faster for him tonight. It’s just this. Torturously slow. High friction. Back. And forth. Back again. Until one of them starts cussing and begging. 

He gives in. Pinned down under Benny’s body he surrenders. Next time it will be his turn again. 

“Guapo,” Frankie moans softly, answering Benny’s movements with his own, canting to feel more. “So pretty for me.”

Benny chuckles, breathlessly, burrowing his flushing cheeks deeper into Frankie’s shoulder. Perhaps there’s a stutter in the ebb and flood, his back and forth. 

Back and forth.

“Mírame.” An order, a loving one. Frankie’s free hand tugs on Benny’s hair until their eyes meet. Blue framed with strawberry blonde, flecks of gold littered over his skin, all over his body; Frankie knows this, familiar with every freckle his love has.

“Pretty boy,” he says, tongue and lids heavy, weighted down by the heat and longing between them.

Benny’s hips stutter again, every praise making him lose his rhythm. Flustered that Frankie can still make him blush like he makes the girls blush.

“Stop it,” he mutters but soon is silenced by Frankie thumbing his bottom lip. Hips snap forward, eyes widen, Frankie’s thumb pushes between Benny’s lips.

The muffled moan resembles the one that fills their four walls whenever Benny is nestled between Frankie’s legs to make them both forget about their day. Lips puckered, tongue lapping, hollowed cheeks. The same praise.

“So good for me. Just like that, baby…”

Frankie sets the pace now, pushing his finger deeper into Benny’s hot mouth and pulling back out. Benny’s movements mirror Frankie's, the back and forth, faster now because he can’t tell his needs apart. His mouth is needy, his cock is, too. Both messy, both leaking.

Frankie knows the look on Benny’s face, he’s gone, chasing release, grinding himself against the heel of Frankie’s palm, moaning around his finger, drunk on the man beneath him.

“Gonna come for me?” Frankie purrs, just as close but not ready yet. “Gonna let me feel how desperate you are, hm?”

Benny whines, spit sticking to his beard when Frankie replaces his thumb with his index and middle finger instead. Nodding his head and ignoring the tingle in the back of his throat when he sucks the fingers deeper into his mouth.

“Already making a mess for me…” Frankie tuts, relishing in Benny’s rutting growing sloppy. It’s not even back and forth anymore, just desperately canting into Frankie’s hand, now that he found the exact spot that will send him over the edge.

“That's it. That's my pretty boy. Show me, I wanna see you.”

He hooks his thumb behind the waistband of Benny’s sweats and with the next movement they are getting tugged down enough for him to understand. Frankie’s fingers slip from his mouth when Benny sits back on his heels, pushing his sweats and boxers down just enough.

It doesn't take much for Benny. Just a few hasty and hard strokes and the sight of Frankie licking his lips and pulling his shirt up to bare his stomach, and he is spilling all over his fist and Frankie’s exposed skin. 

His whole body jerks when he pulls his hand away, a shaky laugh escaping him when he hears Frankie mutter a gorgeous.

“You always get me with those damn praises,” Benny huffs softly and unceremoniously pulls down the other man’s shorts. 

Frankie's cock springs free, leaking, sensitive from the grinding and humping, his balls, heavy and full, already tight and tucked high. With that boyish smirk of his, Benny slots between Frankie’s thighs again.

The flat of his tongue moves up, from Frankie’s balls over his cock and through the sticky happy trail, relishing the moans and the hand in his hair and the taste of his cum mixing with Frankie’s. Benny grins, like a cat that got cream, and licks up his own spent before he finally, fucking finally, wraps his lips around Frankie’s sensitive tip.

The fingers in his hair tighten when Benny starts bobbing his head and hollows his cheeks again. And before Frankie can start uttering out his praise, Benny reaches up and offers his still sticky fingers to him.

Two, then three fingers get sucked into Frankie’s mouth with a low moan. Hips snapping in the same rhythm as the fingers get pushed between his lips. A steady back and forth.

It has always been about Benny's hands and fingers. Plucking on Frankie’s heartstrings or the drawstrings of his shorts, curling around his cock, carding through his hair at night.

Or holding hands while he makes Frankie come in his mouth. Cupping the man’s jaw with licked clean fingers. Caressing his cheek when he pushes himself up so they can share a kiss and their flavors.

“That was nice,” Benny whispers, sucking the last bit of salty taste from Frankie’s lips.

“Yeah, it was.” Frankie smirks, wiping the corner of Benny’s mouth with his fingertip. “Should we start the movie over?”

every time someone likes queer content a homophob gets horny in public. help them out, support queer artists!

also: let me know how I did with my first ever attempt at FishBen, preferably with words, thanks! 🫶✌️

follower milestone drabble masterlist here

general masterlist here

dividers: @saradika-graphics

[kwilquib]

False Image

Xinyu X Sohyun TripleS.

100 words

Marketing ploy—that’s what it is.

In truth…

Xinyu exhales, as the van finally rolls its wheels.

Then, her phone chimes.

A Message, photo of Sohyun. On her bed.

Gazed locked through the screen, hair intentionally tousled, lips parted just enough for the tip of her tongue to tease.

“Missing your taste”

From somewhere deep—no, lower—rises a sound. Primal. Instinctual. Before she can stop it, a moan escapes.

…

Xinyu’s eyes snap up, scanning. Members lost in their own worlds—earphones, scrolling their phones. Unnoticed.

Except. Sohyun with a knowing grin at her lips, as she keeps her eyes in the window.

[iichaeyj]

CAFÉ SUNSHINE

the barista working at your favorite café draws hearts onto your coffee cup, calls you her sunshine, and calls you the prettiest thing she’s ever seen—platonically, of course.

PAIRING: barista!sohyun x f!reader GENRE: fluff, lots of fluff WARNINGS: y/n is a little oblivious but she's trying her best, like one kms joke, one sort of suggestive joke ? WORD COUNT: 4.0k A/N: ik nobody asked for this but i saw no sohyun fics so i had to do it myself!!!!!

The lingering smell of fresh coffee hits your nose as you walk into the quaint, familiar café you’ve been visiting for months now, the bell at the top of the door ringing to signal your arrival. A small display on the counter shows you little cupcakes, cookies, and bagels you’ve all tried. Next to it, a small menu resides that shows off the various coffees and drinks the café serves its customers. You approach the counter, your eyes drifting to the only sound in the café besides the calming music in the background.

The sound of the espresso machine rings throughout the area, the shot of concentrated coffee flowing down into a little white cup made by the girl standing in front of the machine. Her long, dark hair flows behind her as she works. She’s dressed in a simple outfit suited for a barista, the white sleeves of her blouse rolled up as she concentrates on grinding coffee beans. Her apron is slightly messy with hints of coffee and whipped cream smeared onto the brown fabric, but she shows no sign of care on her face as she focuses on her current task. The veins in her hands become visible as she works, and her forearm muscles tighten as she finishes. She tilts her head down as she notices her messy hands, her side profile highlighting her jawline and the soft curve of her nose. The gold writing flashes as the sunlight reflects off her name tag, the bold letters spelling out “Sohyun” against the black background.

Sohyun turns towards you, her eyes looking up from the ground as she makes eye contact. Her lips part in surprise as she finally notices a customer, curling up at the ends when she sees that it’s not just any customer, but you. She brushes her hands off diligently on a clean towel before walking up to the register, flashing you a friendly smile. “Hey, sunshine,” Sohyun greets you, using the familiar nickname she applies only to you as she leans down against the counter with her arms crossed against the cool surface. She looks up at you as she tilts her head, staring for a moment as if to take in your appearance while she smiles brighter at the sight. “What can I get for you today?” she asks you, her sultry and smooth voice causing you to look away shyly.

“I don’t know,” you hum, glancing at the menu next to the register. “What do you suggest?” you ask, meeting her gaze again despite every part of your body struggling to hide the rosy blush currently creeping onto your cheeks.

“Why don’t you get something as sweet as yourself?” Sohyun says, grinning when she notices the soft blush becoming more prominent from her flirtatious words. “Maybe a blue lemonade?” she suggests, standing back up properly from her position leaning down on the counter.

“A blue lemonade?” you say, scanning the menu that offers no such option. “Since when did you start making that?” you ask her curiously.

“Since I noticed you beginning to crave sweeter and cooler things the hotter it gets,” Sohyun tells you with a small chuckle, gathering the ingredients from the cabinets.

You flush in embarrassment as she picks up on a habit you didn’t even know you had, wondering if you were easy to read or if she was just smart enough to figure you out. “Well as long as you make it, I’m sure I’ll like it,” you say sweetly, trying to flatter her while also avoiding processing the fact that Sohyun remembered something about you so easily.

Sohyun’s hand twitches slightly at your words, her back towards you as she begins working on your blue lemonade. “What if I accidentally make it really horrible? My job mainly requires me to handle shots of espresso, you know,” she jokes, preparing the sparkly blue drink.

“I trust you,” you tell her, smiling at her joke. “Ever since I started coming here, you’ve never given me anything bad,” you say happily.

You shiver as you walk down the streets of your neighborhood, the jacket around you doing little to nothing to prevent the cold air from attacking your skin. After walking downtown thinking you’d be fine, you regretted your choice as you walked back up the familiar streets in the freezing cold. Just as you begin thinking nothing could get worse than the 32 Fahrenheit weather you were currently trapped in, snowflakes suddenly begin floating down from the sky.

Letting out an exasperated sigh as the snow falls onto your hair, you look around the empty street. Although you lived nearby, you really didn’t want to be out in the cold after walking all the way here. You could practically feel your legs aching at the thought of climbing up these next few streets to get home. You notice a bright light coming from inside a small store, curious about the store you hadn’t seen previously. You sigh as the snow only begins getting heavier, shivering as you make your way towards the light that would surely offer you some comfort from the snowy weather.

You walk into the small store, looking around at the small plants placed around the space and the pieces of art that still have the price tags on them if you look closely enough. You notice the freshly dried paint on the walls and the lack of actual food or products on display, hinting at the place's newly opened status. The place was generally filled with the colors of white and brown, typical colors for a modern café. However, something about the cute, small café offered you space that differed from the world outside. The warm, golden lights shined down on you and almost instantly melted the snow on your hair, leaving you feeling much better than before. The area felt warm and comfortable, offering a safe space from the harsh weather outside.

As you look around, you fail to notice the barista behind the counter that was looking at you. Her eyes looked you up and down, bundled up in a warm jacket and a scarf that was too big on you. She smiled slightly at the sight of you, taking in your rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes as you looked around curiously.

“Can I help you?” the barista asks you, causing your head to snap up to stare at the girl. Her voice was low and raspy, causing you to unknowingly blush at the mere sound. As you try and calm yourself down, feeling stupid from being so easily embarrassed, your jaw nearly falls open as you take her in. She smiles kindly at you, looking into your eyes. Her eyes glisten with interest as she looks at you, clearly intrigued by your presence. Her hair is tied up behind her, allowing you to look over her sharp features. Her lips are shaped like hearts as they curl into a smile for you, which in turn highlights the pink on her prominent cheekbones. She had a mole on the bottom of her left eye and on her nose, adding to her already incredible features to make her look sophisticated.

She looked ethereal.

She was unlike anybody you’ve ever seen before. After you walked through the cold weather on streets covered by white snow with the gray sky looming overhead, the girl seemed like an otherworldly being with the way she captivated you with her warm smile and raspy voice. Her eyes crinkled up at the ends as she smiled, making you nearly fall over after noticing the small detail if it wasn't for the sound of her voice interrupting your thoughts.

“Hello?” she asks you, chuckling as she continues to stare at you kindly. You felt your legs wobble at her words. Hearing her low voice and her gentle laugh only made your attraction to her worse, a red tint coating your cheeks at the realization.

“Hi,” you say meekly, trying to offer her a smile you hoped wasn’t painfully awkward. “I was just trying to find shelter from the cold,” you tell her, struggling to meet her gaze for more than a few seconds at a time.

���So you didn’t mean to come here?” she asks you, a soft smile on her lips as she glances at your blushing cheeks.

You flush bright red in embarrassment, shaking your head quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that,” you tell her quickly. “I’ve just never been here,” you explain shyly. “I live in this neighborhood, so I wanted to check this place out.”

“This place is a new café I'm getting set up,” she explains. “It may not look like much right now, but it'll get there,” she tells you, giving you a small wink.

You felt something awaken at the sight.

“You own this place?” you ask in surprise, staring at her as you take in her young appearance. Surely, she couldn't be more than a year older than you, if that.

“Yeah. I worked for it,” she shrugs, rubbing the back of her neck as she smiles bashfully. And if she noticed the way your eyes glanced at her exposed neck, she didn’t mention it.

“That’s cool!” you tell her earnestly, your eyes wide in surprise.

She glances at you, an amused smile playing on her lips as she notices your genuine enthusiasm for a person you had just met. “It’s nothing crazy,” she tells you, chuckling again which causes your heart to race. “Why don’t you take a seat? I’ll make something for you,” she tells you, nodding towards a seat nearby as she disappears off to the back.

As you take a seat, you hear her work in the back. You can hear lots of noises as she moves around, clearly struggling to find the right ingredients as you see flashes of her running back and forth in the back through the doorway. You smile slightly as you wait for her, feeling oddly flustered knowing that she was going through all this trouble just to make you something. You sigh and shake your head, trying to calm down the butterflies in your stomach that suddenly appeared as soon as you looked at the pretty barista. It wasn't like you to swoon over a person just because they're attractive, but as you see her eyebrows furrowing in concentration as you catch a glimpse of her searching for something, you feel your face heat up once again.

After a few moments, the girl walks back into the front of the café while holding a steaming coffee cup. “I made you some hot chocolate,” she tells you, smiling as she sets the cup down in front of you on your table.

You look at the mug in surprise, smiling at the sight of the drink she clearly worked hard to make. “You really didn’t have to,” you say shyly.

“I wanted to. It’s on the house,” she reassures you, smiling as she casually sits down across the table from you. “I hope you don’t mind if I take a seat. Considering the weather, I don’t think any more customers are gonna be arriving soon,” she says, glancing at the window where she could see the snowstorm only getting worse.

“I don’t mind at all,” you tell her a little too quickly, looking down at the coffee cup. “But what’s this?” you ask her, pointing to something on the cup.

“That? It’s a sun, of course,” she tells you, looking at the little sun outlined in sharpie on your cup. The sun is a sharp contrast to the otherwise modern and sleek design of the cup and logo of the café.

“Do you draw suns on most of your coffee cups?” you ask her curiously, taking a sip of the hot chocolate that warms your insides. The sweet taste coats your tongue as you swallow the drink, the soft marshmallow melting on your tongue.

“Nope,” she tells you, shaking her head. “I just thought it suited you, sunshine,” she says casually, smiling at the sight of you enjoying the drink she’s made for you.

You freeze at the sound of the nickname rolling off her tongue, hoping your face isn’t as red as it seemed. “‘Sunshine?’” you question quietly, glancing up at her from your drink.

“Well, I don’t know your name, and ‘sunshine’ seems to suit you,” she shrugs, smiling as she confidently meets your eyes. “You’re a warming presence, especially considering the state we’re in right now,” she hums, motioning toward the outside weather. “But if you don’t mind me asking, what is your name?” she asks you.

“My name’s Y/n,” you tell her shyly, your mind still reeling from her words. “What’s yours?”

“My name is Sohyun.”

“Yeah well, I wouldn’t wanna give my favorite customer a bad drink,” Sohyun says, smiling fondly at the memory of seeing you for the first time. Ever since then, you’ve been coming to her café multiple days throughout the week.

“So I’m your favorite?” you ask, teasing her as you lean over the counter to watch her make the drink.

“Isn’t it obvious?” she retorts back, turning her head to smile at you before continuing to make your drink. You two had gotten quite close in the past few months of seeing each other, making you comfortable enough around her to joke around and tease her, but you still couldn’t help the way you nearly folded just from seeing her throw you a smile.

“Well if it helps, you’re my favorite barista,” you tell her, trying to maintain a cool demeanor.

“I’d hope so,” Sohyun tells you, her voice low and calming as she mixes your drink for you. “I’d get a little jealous if I found out otherwise,” she mumbles out, causing your knees to buckle and your cheeks to flush yet again in her presence.

It’s words like these that affect you. From the way she calmly addresses you like you could be her lover to the way she smiles with her pretty lips, you can feel your crush on her growing worse and your heart growing heavier in your chest. In moments like this, it seemed like you hadn't changed at all from the first meeting where you had met Sohyun. However, no matter how wonderful she might make you feel, figuring out what she might really mean always drove you insane.

“I don’t even know if she likes girls!” you cry out for the millionth time, flopping onto your best friend’s bed.

“And for the last time, just ask her!” Xinyu groans, throwing a pillow at you.

You groan as you easily catch the pillow, staring up at her ceiling. “It’s not that simple,” you sigh, already blushing as you picture Sohyun’s face on the clear canvas of Xinyu’s ceiling.

Xinyu sighs, helping you sit up as she takes a seat next to you on her bed. “Okay, picture this,” she says, grabbing onto your shoulders for dramatic effect. “Imagine you’re walking into that café,” she says, painting a vision for you. “You’re wearing something pretty and you look smoking hot, and everybody is looking at you,” she says dramatically while ignoring the disgusted look you give her. “You stroll in and say to the cute barista girl ‘Are you gay? If you aren’t sure, wanna come over to my place and find out?’” she suggests, winking at you.

Xinyu groans as she gets pushed away, frowning at your disapproving look. She huffs as she straightens up, holding her hands up to show she’s just joking. “Okay, okay,” she sighs. “But honestly, it sounds like she does like you. I mean, what straight girl looks you dead in the eyes and refers to you as her ‘sunshine?’” she deadpans.

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “But as much as it may seem like she’s flirting, how do I know she’s being serious? She may call me sweet things and tell me I’m pretty, but she’s never asked for my number or anything like that,” you tell her.

“Maybe she’s waiting for you to make the first move,” Xinyu tells you, shrugging casually. “It sounds like she’s consistently doing things for you ever since the two of you first met. Maybe she’s just waiting for you to initiate something for once,” she suggests, her eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Why can’t she just do it?” you whine, placing your head in your hands.

Xinyu snorts at your words, smiling at your hunched-over figure. “No offense girl, but you’re not exactly a walking pride flag,” she sighs, patting your back to comfort you. “She probably has no idea if you’re gay or not. You just gotta ask her to find out.”

“What if she punches me in the face and tells me to kill myself,” you mumble out, visibly distressed.

Xinyu rolls her eyes, groaning loudly. “I can’t wait to see the look on your face when you two get married and I include this in my maid of honor speech,” she chuckles out, sighing as she looks around her room aimlessly.

She raises an eyebrow when she sees the now empty coffee cup you had just gotten from visiting Sohyun at her café. She picks up the cup, looking at the scribbled writing on the side before she throws it down and turns to you dramatically. “I swear to god if you don’t just ask for her number already,” she groans as she throws another pillow at you, the cup rolling around on the ground with the words ‘for the prettiest girl i know’ written on its side.

Sohyun turns back around as she finishes making your drink, smiling at you once again. “Here, try it,” she tells you, handing you your blue lemonade. You swear you feel the electricity flowing between you two as her fingers brush against yours.

As you put your lips on the edge of the cup, her eyes flicker between you and your lips as she watches you swallow the smooth drink. “Is it good?” she asks you curiously.

“Yeah, it’s really good,” you tell her happily, the smooth liquid running down your throat. The blue lemonade is refreshing and light for your taste buds, offering you a cool refreshment fitting for the hot weather.

Sohyun smiles brightly at your words, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. Her cheekbones become more visible as her lips curl up, a soft blush painting her face at your compliment. “I’m glad,” she mumbles shyly, clearing her throat as she glances between you and the drink in your hand.

Her eyes flicker as she stares at the cup, suddenly realizing something as she hastily grabs the sharpie nearby. “Wait, let me see that,” she says, reaching for the cup that you willingly hand to her.

“What is it?” you ask curiously, staring at her as she sets the cup down on the counter and leans down again.

“I forgot your sun,” she mumbles out, focusing on the cup as she draws on it. Her fingers move carefully, taking longer than normal as the black ink stains the side of your cup. She turns it back to you after she’s done, standing back up as she hands you your drink back with a satisfied smile.

You smile at the signature sun gracing the side of your drink, turning the drink when you notice another drawing on the other side. “What’s this?” you ask curiously as you point to the new, small drawing of a heart. “You don’t normally do this,” you mumble out, gently touching the little detail.

“It’s my heart,” Sohyun says quietly, smiling shyly as she glances at the drawing before looking at you. “I guess you could say I’m giving my heart to you,” she chuckles out, trying to hide her blush under her joking tone. Normally, you'd laugh it off with her or try and hope your heart wasn't beating loud enough for her to hear, but as you notice her expectant gaze, you feel your heart racing in a way it hasn't ever done before.

You stare down at the little heart carefully drawn onto your drink, thinking about everything Sohyun has done for you in the past. From the times she’s given you free drinks and desserts to the little discreet touches of her hands against yours, you feel your cheeks heat up at the memories. You could practically hear Xinyu screaming at you to get it together and say some cheesy pickup line to the girl standing in front of you.

“Do you really think I’m the prettiest girl you know?” you ask her quietly, looking up from the cup to look into her eyes.

Sohyun’s eyes widen at your words, her breath hitching as she recalls the note she once wrote for you. Her eyes stare into yours, the blush on her cheeks matching yours as she fumbles with the sharpie still in her hand. She stares at you intensely, her glimmering eyes darting from your eyes and your expectant gaze to your parted lips coated with a pretty gloss. She stares at the drink in your hand that she had spent days working on to make sure it would match your taste and include only high-quality ingredients.

Slowly, she nods her head. “The prettiest in the world, actually,” she mumbles out.

Your cheeks heat up at her words, fumbling with the drink as you quickly set it down on the counter to avoid spilling it. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your mind going blank as you think of what to say.

“Are you gay?” you blurt out, staring at her as you feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment. “If you aren’t sure, wanna come over to my place and find out?” you stammer out before you can stop yourself.

You feel your face burn hot and your hands tremble as you stare at her, suddenly feeling like you shouldn’t come back to this café ever again. You try to think of an excuse, anything to get you out of this situation. However, you suddenly hear Sohyun burst into laughter.

Sohyun throws her head back, laughing loudly as her eyes turn into crescents and her cheeks puff out from how hard she’s smiling. Her lips part as she laughs, struggling to contain her fits of laughter as she smiles brightly at you. “Shouldn’t you be inviting me out to dinner first?” she asks between the angelic sounds of her laughter.

You nod quickly, trying to save face as you play with the pendant on the necklace around your neck. “That would probably be better,” you mumble out, shyly glancing at her smiling face.

Sohyun smiles fondly at your obvious embarrassment, grabbing your drink as she writes her number on it. She hands your drink back to you after doing so, writing it boldly so that you can’t miss it. Her fingers touch yours firmly this time, lingering for a moment before pulling away. “But maybe I’ll take you up on that offer after a few dates?” she suggests, grinning when she sees your face heat up more at her simple words.

As you hold onto the drink tightly, you glance at her number before looking back up at her. “Maybe,” you mumble out sheepishly, struggling to think properly. “I’ll text you,” you tell her, dying to get out of here before you can embarrass yourself anymore.

Sohyun watches as you walk away from her, glancing at your ears that are bright red from the lingering embarrassment. She smiles as she admires you, calling out to you before you go. “Be careful with my heart,” she calls out as you leave, her gaze never leaving your back as you hurry out of the café.

You stare down at the cup as you walk out of the café, your thumb gently caressing the heart Sohyun drew on the coffee cup as you go about your day with a smile on your face.

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[starryeyedjanai]

Steve's sprawled out on the couch with Eddie on top of him when the phone rings.

This is the first time they’ve had time for this in a week, so he’s not surprised when Eddie leans back to say, “Let it ring.”

He trails kisses down Steve's neck and Steve relaxes back into the couch—the loud sound of the phone ringing had made his muscles tense.

Eddie sucks a mark on his neck as he grinds their hips together, the sound of the phone becoming background noise again.

Steve shivers when Eddie runs his teeth over his pulse point.

The phone stops ringing and the answering machine starts going, playing the recorded, “You’ve reached the Harrington’s. Sorry we couldn't make it to the phone,” message out loud.

Eddie’s mouth catches Steve's in a bruising kiss right before the caller’s voice rings out shrill over the line.

“Steve, it’s happening. If you’re home, get to the hospital now,” Robin’s voice says and then the answering machine clicks off.

Fuck. They’ve been waiting for this phone call for over a week.

They immediately spring apart and Eddie hauls him up by the hand. He throws Steve his shirt and Steve pulls it over his head quickly.

“Fuck,” he says. “Robin’s going to make fun of me for the rest of our lives for missing the call that my nephew is being born.”

Eddie’s pulling his pants on with an amused expression. He laughs and says, “You think I’m gonna let you forget? You’ve been wound up about this for over a week now. Baby Buckley has incredible timing.”

Steve glares at him. “Yeah, yeah. The one time I try to let loose for ten minutes to be with my boyfriend is the time that Chrissy goes into labor.”

Incredible timing, indeed.

[infiniteeight8]

Ooh, could I ask for some human Alpha Stiles + steter? Thank you!

I love the human alpha Stiles trope! I feel like it needs more build up than a ficlet allows to be done really well, but I took a shot at it. 😀

This is a *handwave, handwave* AU in which Scott goes off to college and Stiles stays in Beacon Hills. I’ve picked Boyd, Erica, Cora, and Isaac as the rest of the pack. (Lydia and Jackson also went away for college.)

-

After seeing Scott off, the pack gathered without discussion in the Stilinski home. Stiles pulled out the wheeled board and its map of Beacon Hills. Patrol routes were marked with colored yarn and points of concern with colored push pins. Stiles contemplated it for a while. 

“You know,” he said eventually, “I thought losing three pack members would seriously impact our ability to cover Beacon Hills, but I don’t think it’ll actually be that different? Not as long as we have good communications with my dad and his deputies, anyway.”

Erica snorted. “Like you didn’t already know who was doing most of the work.”

“They contributed a little bit!” Stiles protested.

Peter stood and came to stand next to him. Stiles automatically leaned into him, pressing their shoulders together and running an absent hand down his back. “A very little bit,” Peter said dryly.

Boyd shrugged when Stiles cast him a glance. “They’ve got a point.”

Stiles turned away from the map, smiling distractedly at Peter when his hand came to rest in the small of Stiles’s back. “Well, next order of business, then. Do we need to lure an alpha to Beacon Hills?”

“We’ve got an alpha,” Cora said firmly.

Stiles flushes. “Okay, but having Scott here did give us certain advantages, including the ability to make more werewolves. Do we need to make up for that?”

“Being free of the hobbles Scott put on us will make up for that,” Peter said firmly. He put his hands on Stiles’s hips and turned him so that they were facing each other. “You’re all we need, sweetheart.”

Stiles paused, then carefully raised his hand to cup the curve of Peter’s neck, a much more intimate claim than he’d casually asserted earlier.

Peter grinned, and the pack erupted into wolf whistles.

[mintwithchoco]

Taste

tripleS Seoyeon x Male Reader

Word Count: 100 words

Categories: smut, drabble

it went over 100 words originally, but google said that it wouldn't be a drabble, so yeah. (i'm strict like that)

also pardon me @firagaarmor, your girl just looks too good.

“This ice cream is soooo tasty!”

Seoyeon was so focused on her snack that she didn't realize how long have you been staring, specifically at her lips. There’s no mess on her face, it just takes you back to the hours before.

How could you forget her comforting mouth, wrapping your cock with such pressure, yet gentle enough to let you glide into it with ease? What kills you more is when she looks up, entrancing you with her beautiful eyes, contrasting to her visuals that’s fully ruined, and it forces you to hold her head down, and thrust away.

[angelickks]

03. SHE WILL BE LOVED - Francisco "Frankie" Morales

▶︎ •၊၊||၊“I’ve had you so many times, but somehow I want more.” He always thinks he’s not enough. So when you show up again, he fucks you like a man starving.

𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑽. ᯓ 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑼𝑬 ☰ 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝑹𝑼𝑰𝑵 𝑴𝑬 • pedro pascal mlist!

warning(s). nsfw. mdni 18+. oral (f!recieving). possesive!frankie. friends w/ benefits. toxic. rough sex. emotionally charged af. desparate sex. unprotected p in v. creampie. emotional manipulation. love confession. mention of reader being w other men. desperation desperation desperation. praise kink. lmk if i missed anything! (gif not mine)

pairing. francisco "frankie" morales x fem!reader

YOU SHOW UP AT HIS DOOR AT MIDNIGHT, LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO. Smudged mascara, a dress too tight and laughter still clinging to your skin from whatever man was trying and failing to make you forget him.

Frankie doesn’t ask questions. He just lets you in.

You toe off your heels and shrug past him like you belong here, and maybe you do. He’s had you on this couch. This counter. The floor. His lap. His mouth. And still, still—his throat goes dry every time he sees your skin under his kitchen lights.

It’s always like this with Frankie. Your name half a prayer, half a curse on his lips as he peels your dress off, his hands rough and reverent. Like he’s mad at you for showing up, but even more furious at himself for letting you in again. And you, smirking, glossy-lipped, spine arched, let him. Because you like the way he breaks for you.

“You think I didn’t see you with him tonight?” he mutters, fingers dragging your panties down, breath hot against your throat.

You tilt your head. “Wasn’t trying to hide.”

He huffs a laugh. Bitter. “No, you never do.”

But he drops to his knees anyway, palms hooked under your thighs as he lifts one leg over his shoulder and buries his face between them. His tongue is all fire and fever, slow drags through your folds, a kiss to your clit like a plea for mercy he’ll never voice. He eats you like he’s punishing you for letting someone else touch you. Even if you know no one ever really gets as close as he does.

He's desperate in the way his hands grip your thighs to pull you to the edge of the bed, desperate in the way he licks into you like you’ve been his only meal in weeks.

Your legs are trembling, your moans broken, your fingers locked in his curls, and still—still—he doesn’t stop.

You’re gasping, grinding down against his mouth, fingers fisting in his curls. “Fuck—Frankie—”

He groans into you like the sound alone could undo him. When he pulls away, chin slick, pupils blown wide, he looks wrecked.

“I’ve had you,” he grits out, voice raw as he flips you onto the couch. “So many fuckin' times, baby…”

Your back hits the cushions. He drags his cock along your slit once, twice—just to feel the way you’re already dripping for him.

“…but I swear to God—I jus’ want more.”

He thrusts into you in one long, brutal stroke, and your head snaps back.

He’s not slow tonight. Not gentle.

He’s hungry.

Every thrust is rough, possessive—each one a silent, brutal question: Do you even think about me when you’re with them? Do they make you cum like I do? Do they fuck you like they love you but are too damn scared to say it too?

Every stroke is a mark, a brand, a vow. Like if he buries himself deep enough, you’ll finally understand it’s him. It’s always been him.

“You let him touch you?” he hisses, panting as he fucks you deeper.

You moan, shaking your head. “Didn’t let him. Just danced.”

“That’s worse,” he growls, hand tightening on your thigh as he presses it higher. “Dancing’s fuckin’ intimate.”

You laugh, breathless. “Yeah? And what’s this, sweetheart?”

He stills, cock buried deep, forehead pressed to yours. He’s trembling—like the force of it, the weight of how much he wants you, might crush him.

“I love you,” he whispers, too quiet. Too fast.

You blink.

He pulls back like he hadn’t meant to say it at all.

But you pull him back in, wrap your legs around his waist, and kiss him hard enough to make him believe you heard and didn’t run.

He fucks you again, slower now. More deliberate. Desperate.

You come with his name tangled on your tongue, his bite on your shoulder, his arms holding you so tightly like maybe this time you’ll stay.

────────

His pace is slow, savoring. Every thrust deliberate, deep. Like he’s trying to give you everything he can’t say. His hands on your hips, your back, your throat. Holding you like something precious. His forehead pressed to yours as you moan into his mouth, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

“You’re mine,” he whispers. “Even if you don’t say it, even if you leave again—I’ll still be yours. Always have been, pretty girl."

You don’t answer, but you kiss him open-mouthed, panting against his lips like the heat between your bodies might burn away the words you don’t want to say.

Your legs are wrapped around him, slick with sweat, pulling him deeper every time he thrusts back in. The sheets are a mess, tangled at your ankles. There’s a bruise blooming where his stubble scraped your chest raw. He’ll mouth over it later. He always does.

You whimper his name as you start to come, clutching him like you don’t want to let go. And maybe you don’t. Or maybe that’s just the way you cum—needy, intense, reckless. He can’t tell. Not anymore.

But fuck, you feel good. Warm, tight, real.

He groans and spills into you with a guttural sound, teeth gritted, head buried in the crook of your neck like it’s the only place he’s ever known peace. You pet his hair. Gently. Lazily. Like you’ve done this a thousand times.

And you have

Frankie doesn’t move right away. Just stays buried deep inside you, arms tight around your waist, chest pressed to yours as he catches his breath against the crook of your neck. Your skin is sticky with sweat, flushed and soft, and he breathes you in like you’re oxygen—like anything beyond you would suffocate him.

“So good, baby,” he murmurs, voice low and frayed at the edges. “Did so good f’me. Always feel so fuckin’ amazing.”

Your fingers find the back of his neck, nails scratching lightly at the short curls there. Soft, rhythmic, comforting. The kind of touch that says you’re here, I’m here, for now, we’re still breathing. You press kiss after kiss to his forehead, sweet and wet and reverent.

“Always feel amazing, Frankie,” you whisper between them, like a promise. “Always so good to me.”

It’s always like this.

The slow, spiraling descent after everything has burned through. The high of it, the hunger, the helpless need. This is the crash. And somehow it’s worse than the heat of your fucking. Worse because it’s quiet. Intimate. Real. Frankie would be a goddamn liar if he said this wasn’t his favorite part.

You’re warm and limp and pliant beneath him, so soft in his arms he swears you were made to be held like this. In these moments—when your thighs are still trembling and your voice is syrup-sweet in his ear—you feel the most like his. And he lives for it. No matter how fleeting.

You break him down with that honey-dripped voice, only to build him back up again, praise by praise, kiss by kiss. He flourishes in your attention—thrives on it like it’s a drug in his system. Like a dog at its master’s feet, licking at the palms that both feed and strike him.

Even when you leave him aching.

Even when your kisses don’t mean permanence.

He stays. Every time.

Waiting for your love like it might be real if he’s just good enough.

You’ve been here two nights. Three, maybe, depending on how you count the first one where you showed up after midnight, drunk and pretty and pretending this was just a convenient arrangement. Frankie knows the pattern.

Knows you’ll leave soon.

Disappear without a word, just a scribbled note or a half-finished cup of coffee left on the counter.

He braces for it.

But you don’t say much that morning. Just shower. Borrow one of his shirts. Pad barefoot into the kitchen to pour yourself coffee without asking.

Frankie watches you from the doorway.

He wants to say something, anything. Wants to ask what it would take to make you stay. Wants to give you more than sex and silence. Wants to be the one who finally gets chosen.

But your eyes flick up and catch him watching.

And all you say is, a devious and sex-satiated smirk playing on your lips, “Want me to make you breakfast, Morales?”

Frankie nods. Swallows the words again.

And hopes. Foolishly, quietly. That maybe this time, you’ll make it to day four.

[disasterbuck]

interlude

married buddie | 300 words

With a sigh and his eyes still closed, Buck stretched an arm out across the bed in search of Eddie. He found nothing but air and a pillow, so he cracked his eyes open to confirm that the other man wasn't there.

Sitting up, Buck looked over to see the bedroom door open. With a yawn, he got out of bed and wandered down the hallway in search of his husband.

Eddie was in the kitchen, leaning against a counter with his head bowed.

"Baby?" Buck whispered as he slipped up behind him, winding an arm around his waist and resting his chin on his shoulder.

"Hey," Eddie said, lifting his head slightly and putting a hand over Buck's arm. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"I'm not sure," Buck confessed with another yawn. "I just woke up and you were gone. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just can't sleep."

Buck turned his face into Eddie's neck and began pressing soft lazy kisses to his skin.

"This is not helping me sleep," Eddie said with a chuckle.

"Okay, and?" Buck asked, kissing his way up to Eddie's ear and tugging playfully on the lobe with his teeth. "Maybe I'm done with sleep for now."

"Is that so?" Eddie asked, the words coming out breathy.

"We can have a sleeping interlude," Buck whispered directly into his ear, then spun him around and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "How does that sound?"

"Honestly?" Eddie murmured, winding his arms around Buck's waist. "It sounds amazing."

Grinning, Buck nuzzled their noses together and then stepped back, his hand slipping down to find Eddie's so he could lead him back to their bedroom.

"Let's go have interlude sex," he said with a wink.

Eddie snorted and rolled his eyes, but went with him eagerly.

[airas-story]

Stephen :I'm unlovable.

Tony: a new callenge !

Tony’s gaze was intent on him, waiting patiently for Stephen to explain what he meant.

Stephen thought he’d been quite straightforward, this won’t work, he’d told Tony when Tony had broached the subject of changing their relationship. Stephen had been waiting for and dreading the moment for weeks. I’m not someone you, anyone, can care about.

“People put up with me,” Stephen said finally. “Some even like me. But no one has—” He closed his eyes, pushing past the well-aged grief. “No one has loved me since Donna.”

Tony’s brow furrowed; Stephen could see him wanting to ask the obvious question about his parents. He didn’t. Stephen was grateful. How could he explain those words he’d never forget, slurred by his dad in a drunken haze, if that damn boy had been paying attention…

“I understand,” Tony said finally.

Despite knowing it was inevitable, Stephen’s heart still shattered at the easy way Tony had given up. Pain locked in Stephen’s throat. “I’m glad you’re being reasonable about this,” he said. “Part of me expected—” had selfishly hoped, “—you to argue.”

Tony laughed. “Stephen, nothing I say will change your mind. No point in arguing.”

Stephen flinched despite himself; he knew that, knew he wasn’t worth—

Tony reached out, caught his hand and squeezed quietly. “Actions speak louder than words, Stephen. Which is good, because I’ve always sucked at words.” A soft grin tugged at his lips. “I’m also terrible about letting people be wrong. It offends my sensibilities.”

”Tony—“

“I’m going to prove you wrong, Stephen,” Tony said. “But you have to be willing to let me. No matter what I do, it won’t matter if you won’t open yourself up to the possibility.”

”Tony—“

“Stephen, let me show you.”

Stephen swallowed, but… but didn’t he want this? “All right.”