#pleas some else noticed too

[baked0bread]

Once is a mistake,

Twice it a coincidence,

Thrice it's a pattern.

#im calling it right now #i cant be the only one #pleas some else noticed too #im so normal about these block people #desert duo #life series #third life #double life #secret life

[wonryllis]

さ 𝇃𝇂 ENHYPEN WHEN THEY GET JEALOUS OVER A GUY HITTING ON YOU.

╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽.

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. the trigger of possesive enhypen 𖥔 ݁ fluff and love, and your man, LIBY? fem!reader requested word count ` 1513 unedited.

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 you're at the mall to watch a marvel movie together all excited. and there's this boba store right next door to the cinema hall, they have your favorite flavour but there's a long ass line. heeseung baby being down bad for you is rushing to get you what you want without a thought. even if he has to miss the grand opening scenes, he's getting you that boba you love. he's literally right next up when he notices this weirdo approach you. quickly gets your drink and runs back, more like long intimidating strides with a deep ass scary voice,"babe, who's this guy?"

immediately notices the dial pad open on his phone understanding that this frog was asking for your number. does a whole public display of affection, putting in the straw, holding the cup while you take a sip, squeezing your cheeks and going,"does my sweetcheeks like it?" leaving a kiss when you nod. "m sorry do you like need directions or something?" he's so jealous right now that this guy thinks he can bag you, and he's gonna take it out by embarrassing him. what to do you're so beautiful that flies keep getting attracted, he's found a tactic for this.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 okay now this one is the wooing stage where you're seeing each other every other day but do not have a strict label yet, more like jay trying to do all it takes to win your heart. with the gentleman he is definitely it doesn't take him long but there are times when he's not so gentlemanly though not to you, you'll forever be his queen. it's friday night and he shows up at your doorstep unannounced waiting for you to get back home to surprise you with a bag of your favourite takeout. he's just steps away from your apartment door when he notices the bouquet of flowers stuck on the door with a small bag hanging beneath.

immediately searches through it to find a note with a number. types it in and makes a call giving the guy a really good piece of his mind to stay away, throwing away the flowers and the gift in the bins downstairs. and then he spots you talking to some guy? okay now he doesn't know if it's the same one or someone else so doing what would be graciously the best he walks over and pretends to be your boyfriend,"hey honeybun, i was waiting for you upstairs with this," showing the bag of food triumphantly and and then giving a sly look over to the guy.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 so you're in ikea looking for a new bed for jake because y'all broke the last one while pillow fighting on it. cliche but you get lost amidst the aisles and jake is roaming around tryna find you first whereas you are least concerned about being separated like you'll reunite at some point anyway? right? however just two meters away from your boyfriend and some dude is walking right up in between, hand scratching the back of his neck just like how jake used to do early on in the relationship.

literally as awkward as it can be, the guy going on about how he's been looking at you for a while and how he'd like to get to know you, while your eyes are trained behind him at jake who in turn is shooting daggers at the guy. you don't know what to say hoping jake would come over but he's too busy feeling the jealousy lol, "my man wouldn't like that and neither would i so plea-" "oh come on he's not here is he-" "ayo sorry to disappoint buddy, but her man's right here," at first jake was super jealous like feeling the need to claim dominance but lord the moment you referred to him as 'your man' he's forgotten all about it.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 you were meeting up for a lunch date at your favourite place. and as always hoon was running a little late, leaving you waiting outside the restaurant. you're just on a bench nearby texting on your phone, when you feel someone sit beside you. you smile, thinking it's your lovely boyfriend but when you look up you find an unfamiliar guy grinning his tooth out at you? "hey i was watching you and you seem to be alone," oh no you already feel it going bad "uh no, im not alon-" "i was wondering if you could give me your number, i'm fun to be around really," he keeps on interrupting you again and again when you try to tell him you're not interested and taken.

"my pretty girl, let's go," sunghoon shows up, taking your hand into his and leading you away into the restaurant, straight up ignoring the guy. internally he's quite literally fuming his fists iching to throw a punch at the guy who thought it was okay to hit on you like that. he excuses himself to the washroom after placing the order to secretly check if the guy is still lingering around and if he is then god save him from sunghoon's wrath lmao.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎 you're in the mall,. shopping together, going around stores and trying on clothes. you find these bunch of cute floral print mini dresses and sunoo so encourages you to give it a try and see if you like it, promising to stay close by the fitting rooms to have a look and give feedback. however when you open the door for the third outfit instead of your darling there's a staff waiting around. he's immediately jumping at the opportunity to compliment how your body looks so good in it and how you rocked the previous dresses too. "uhm yeah thank you, but the man here-"

"babyyy, im so sorry i went to look some more for you and look what i found, you'd look so damn pretty in it all for me to see," sunoo walks over with a lingerie in his hand ksjskjskhhsj, he hands it over to you with a lovely smile on his face but as soon as you close the door, he's so giving it to the guy for trying to hit on you, "don't you think it is inappropriate to be saying all that to someone who clearly is not looking for and does not absolutely want your advice? and you're at work don't you have basic employee customer decency, where's your manager, i wanna speak to them,"

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 this guy is always on his toes to pick you up from anywhere and everywhere. this time it was the library you frequent. it was late in the evening and it was raining, the perfect scenario for jungwon to be a knight in shining armour. by the time he's reached, you're supposed to be waiting by the door as your texts said but you're nowhere to be found. baby is confused, doesn't waste a second to go inside in search of you. and he's so glad he did because the first thing he sees is you uncomfortably standing by the front desk seemingly talking to the librarian guy.

the same one whom he has always noticed giving you the ogly googly eyes whenever he's been here with you. however won never thought of doing anything about it because it never went beyond just lovey dovey stares. until today that is,"excuse me i don't think you know but this gorgeous lady right here is in a committed relationship and we'll appreciate it if you stop with these inappropriate advances, it's really disrespectful to us both," damn that guy he got the message so clearly he ain't looking your way ever again,"let's go baby," jungwon is so coddling you after.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 boy doesn't show a lot of his emotions especially in public. his best response to jealousy so far has been to stay quiet at the moment and then later on try to do more pda and all to show you're taken. this time it was valentines week and everyone at college was going around gifting chocolates and roses and other cutesy gifts. of course riki planned out a whole romantic date with your favourite flowers and sweets and everything thing you love. also he had this plan on that random people would come over to give you roses on his behalf and the last one will be him.

however it takes a twist when the random guy with the rose doesn't just leave after handing it to you, he's asking for your damn number man, riki gets so pissed, ready to throw hands more frustrated- jealous than ever especially that his secret plan is getting ruined, also he's like right beside you? "shut up, take this shit back and know your place!" he literally snatches the rose from the small bundle you hold and shoves it roughly into the guy before taking you away,"im so sorry baby for getting angry, i promise this won't happen again everyone will know you're mine,"

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia

#enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #enhypen soft hours #enhypen soft thoughts #enhypen heeseung imagines #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen sunghoon imagines #enhypen jay imagines #enhypen sunoo imagines #enhypen jungwon imagines #enhypen niki imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x you #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x reader

[rosebudfics]

Professor!reader and severus being married but hiding it from the students, bc they dont want the gossip and are just private people in general BUT one day sev forgets to take off his wedding ring and the golden trio go on this whole mission to find out who hes married to; completely freaking out when it turns out hes with reader cause theyre complete opposites while teaching

(Sorry if this is too long or doesnt make sense :^ i had this scenario in my head for some time lol)

Secret Lovers

Severus Snape x Professor! Reader

Warnings: use of the name "git" a lot lol, reader is the astronomy teacher but you can swap it out for any class, Snape smacks Ron and Harry

A/N: I LOVE THIS REQUEST SO MUCH OMG!?!?!?! also this isnt really set in any specific year but its more leaning towards where theyre older since snape you know.. hits ron and harry over the head and harry has the map <3

You and Severus had managed to keep your relationship secret for a couple years now, with the exception of only Minerva and Dumbledore knowing.

Why does anyone else need to know anyway? It was none of their business!

So one regular morning when you and Sev were getting ready for the day in the early hours of the morning, he had somehow forgotten to take his golden band off. You both would usually keep them in a little ring box at home so they were hidden but safe and put them back on at night, but today Severus had just forgotten to take it off.

You would bid your goodbyes at home before you left together, getting one last kiss in before heading back to Hogwarts, then Severus would put his usual cold face back on.

You both headed to your classrooms like normal, Severus still failing to notice the wedding band still on his finger.

When classes started, everything was going how it usually would: he would deduct house points, snapping at kids whenever they would interrupt his teaching, etc. That is until Hermione noticed a particular shine off her teachers hand.

Hermione looked closer before very quietly gasping. "Holy cricket!" She whispered so only Harry and Ron could hear her.

“What?” Ron asked curiously but not very quietly, earning the attention of Severus.

“On Professor Snape’s hand, he was wearing a wedding ring!” She said in a hushed voice.

“You must be crazy Herminone, there's no way that he’s married to someone.” Harry chuckled.

“Yeah, no ones gonna want to let alone be in any relationship with that old git-” Ron was interrupted by getting smacked over the head by Severus, followed up by Harry getting smacked as well.

Hermione just kept quiet, keeping her giggle to herself.

“Would you mind repeating yourself Mr. Weasley?” Severus sneered down at him.

“...no, sorry.” Ron grumbled.

“Mhm. 5 points from Gryffindor, and that's me being generous.”

After class, Ron, Hermione, and Harry all gathered at the library at break. “Are you sure you saw a ring, Hermione? Was it even on his ring finger?” Harry asked as he sat down some books in front of him.

“I'm certain! The real question is though, to who?” Hermione thought for a minute.

“Harry, why can't we just use your cloak to spy on him?” Ron questioned like it was obvious.

“Brilliant!” Harry exclaimed but Hermione smacked him in the arm.

“That's invading his privacy! It's terribly rude.” She scoffed.

Ron then mocked her, earning a smack. After a while of begs and pleas, she finally caved.

“Alright, alright!” She sighed.

They then all made their way back to the dorm to get everything they needed. Harry also grabbed the Marauders Map so it would be easier to find Snape. And then off they went on their little adventure to hunt down his wife.

They had to do some weaving and dodging to not bump into anyone (they bumped into Neville at some point, terrifying him) until they made it to the staff room. Harry looked down at his map to find Snape and you, they're astronomy teacher, alone.

“What are Professor Snape and Professor y/n doing together?” Ron asked in a confused voice.

Harry hushed him and then looked into the keyhole to find Snape and you talking to eachother.

“Are you sure no one saw the ring?” you asked again.

“Yes, dear, I am sure of it.” Snape said in a somewhat annoyed tone. “If someone did see it, I would be getting hounded with questions!”

“Yeah well not if all the students are terrified of you!” you sighed. “Look I'm not mad, I don't want you to think that, it's just we've gone this long keeping it secret it feels weird to just slip up like this”

Severus stepped towards you and grabbed your face in his hands. “Listen love, no one will know. Maybe in the future we can be more open about it.” He then bent down and kissed her gently, and you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer.

Harry gasped quietly and backed up. He was about to say something before he heard footsteps walking towards the door. “We gotta get outta here!”

They all then scurried off down the hall back to the dormitory.

“Harry, what did you see? What were they doing in there?” Ron asked.

“Its professor y/n, that's who he's married to!” Harry was slightly out of breath from running.

“Professor y/n?? But they're so.. so different!” Hermione was shocked.

“You must be seeing things mate, there's NO way Proffesor y/n is married to the old git.” Ron scoffed.

“I'm telling you! They were talking about how he had forgotten to take his ring off or something and then they kissed!” Harry gushed.

They then talked about why you would ever want to marry Snape for the rest of break. Interestingly enough they next class was with you!

Since you were an extremely nice and open teacher, they felt more comfortable talking to you about it.

"So professor y/n, have you been seeing anyone lately?" Ron asked before class actually started.

You were caught off guard to say the least. "Well... I dont really see how my romantic life concerns any of you," you laugh whole heartedly.

Ron then smirked. "You never denied it. Perhaps another Proffesor that teaches here!" Hermione pinched his side as a warning to shut up.

"I don't know what your getting at, Ron" you chuckle becoming a little worried.

"Well the man I'm thinking of is a mean, old, cranky git that likes potions-"

"Thats enough! You don't ever talk about another Proffesor like that!" You scolded him.

"Alright, sorry proffesor... but im right, aren't i?" Ron smirked.

Harry and Hermione perked up to listen.

You sighed, before making sure that no other student or teacher was around, nd then said "You must not tell anyone."

#severus snape x reader #pro snape #professor snape #severus snape #snape #snape fandom #snapedom #snape x you #snape x reader #snape x y/n #severus x you #severus x reader #severus x y/n

[mariespen]

Panic Attack ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧

rafe x fem!reader ୨୧ summary: “What have you done to yourself?” warnings: mostly panic attack + comfort, abandonment

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ᝰ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

You could feel the soles of your feet dragging on the cold hardwood floor of Tannyhill. The entire house was deadly quiet except for your occasionally scratchy breathing. Rafe had left two days ago on a panicked mission of some sorts. You tried to protest his leave by begging him to talk to you, asking for anything. Unsurprisingly, Rafe gave you nothing. He shut the overarching front door abruptly, promising to be back soon. Two days passed.

The funny part was that you could see the regret in his eyes as if he wasn’t thinking about anything else. Rafe looked at you like he was being pulled out at gunpoint. You regretted things too, like focusing on your pleas for any explanation rather than taking in his features for what could be the last time.

Your feet were sore and tired from the endless pacing that took you by storm each day since he left. Your eyes were sunken into the deeper parts of your skull for no reason other than the weighted feeling of exhaustion paired with the inability to find any rest. Your hair was disheveled, thrown into whatever could keep it out of your pale face. Stress and anxiety wore down your heart until you felt as if you saw the world from two feet shorter. You had become a shell of the person you were before.

Until there was commotion at the front door. Your delayed reflexes caused you to only look at Rafe when he was mere feet away from you. Even though you had felt utterly lost, his presence was enough for you to feel your own eyes lighting up.

“Baby..” He whispered, looking at you with a horrified expression and walking up to you as you wobbled on your own feet.

Rafe wrapped you into a tight hug instantly, kissing the side of your head as you tried to register your own feelings, shaking in his arms. He took a step back, moving to cradle your face in his hands before looking over every sunken feature of your face that had weighed you down for the last two days. Rafe’s eyes were narrow with heavy concern.

“I didn’t mean..” He trailed off, noticing just how dire your condition was.

His eyes felt judging as they trailed over your face and body, almost like they were trying to seep into your mind. A thin layer of panic started to coat your lungs as his presence served to be less than comforting.

“Why did you.. leave me?” You whispered, your voice cracking as you felt your whole body shaking again.

“I..” The sentence died on his tongue, again.

Pushing away from his grasp, you stood back and tried to support yourself.

“What did you do?” Rafe barely whispered, furrowing his eyebrows and setting his sights on your disheveled appearance.

“W-what..?” You replied, everything weighing down on your shoulders all at once as his words broke the world around you.

“How did you let yourself..” “No..” You whispered, backing away and letting tears form on your waterline as your face contorts into that of a crying child.

“Oh, baby..” He walked back up to you, supporting you in his arms, “What have you done to yourself?”

Your chest heaved as you tried to suck in more air. Your heart felt like it was going to pound its way out of your claustrophobic ribcage. A gag left your mouth as you let a cry go with it. Tears finally freely streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed into him. Your legs collapsed beneath you and he helped you to the ground, giving you space and taking a seat in front of you.

Rafe had only been next to you through about two panic attacks this far into your relationship. Each one felt more traumatic from the last, but you both knew it wasn’t true. You relied on Rafe, so it was easy to let yourself crave his presence during your flash-panic attacks.

“Look at me.” He said clearly, hesitating with a hand in the air, debating if he should touch you or not.

Every part of your body felt like it was being squeezed dry as he tried so hard to bring you back to the moment. You wanted his touch, his skin on yours, his pretty words in your ear, but your mind was racing while your body stayed frozen. You resorted to begging him through your own thoughts, nothing else feeling capable.

“Deep breathes, baby. You’re safe. It’s okay.” He recited a few times, finally deciding to hold your hands in his.

“H-hurts..!” You managed to sob out, referring to the doom-ridden feeling in your chest.

“I know it, princess.” Rafe whispered.

You mustered up the energy to lean forward, watching as he got the hint and moved next to where you were piled so you could curl into his body.

“S’just me, okay?” Rafe repeated a few times, his hands finding a place in your hair.

Looking up at him and feeling him looking back slowly helped you calm your ragged breaths. He held one of your shaky hands to his chest so you could mimic his breathing while he kept your head up.

“I can’t.. can’t..” You started, feeling more out of breath after focusing on his patterns instead. “I know it, baby. It’s okay, just look at me.” Rafe said, holding your foreheads together and letting you relax into him.

He left innocent, chaste kisses to your cheeks while he made you hold eye contact, letting his presence sink back into you.

“I’m so sorry.” Rafe whispered to you when your sobs finally slowed down. 

With a deep breath, you nodded and broke eye contact by shoving your face into the crook of his neck. He let his hands find your hair again, kissing the side of your scalp right as you calmed down enough to breathe properly.

“I love you.” Rafe whispered, picking you up gently to support your weight on his own.

“I love you too.” Your voice cracked but you stayed strong, not letting tears fall again as you moved to your shared bedroom.

Rafe rubbed your back as you fell asleep on him, letting the lonely feeling disappear.

“My baby..” He whispered before you closed your eyes.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ᝰ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

#mariespen #outer banks #rafe cameron #obx fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe drabble #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe cameron blurb #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #obx #rafe cameron hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort

[volttrashz]

Sorry to keep botherin you but i just have multiple ideas!!! Sorry again- ehem. New idea:

Reader is an alpha who goes to Miguel's room and finds out that Miguel's in heat, but not only that. The reader found out miguel is actually an omega!! Not an alpha miguel tells everyone... so... reader fucked him and breeds him and took care of him after that:3 >//////<

I love it. You are never bothering me anon🖤.

ᴏᴍᴇɢᴀ! ᴍɪɢᴜᴇʟ ᴏ ʜᴀʀᴀ x ᴀʟᴘʜᴀ! ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

cw:ᴍᴅɴɪ. ᴅᴜʙᴄᴏɴ. ʙʀᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ ᴋɪɴᴋ. ʙʀᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ. ᴋɴᴏᴛᴛɪɴɢ. ʙᴇʟʟʏʙᴜʟɢɪɴɢ. ʜᴇᴀᴛ. ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅɪɴɢ. ꜱʟᴀᴘᴘɪɴɢ + ʙɪᴛɪɴɢ. ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀᴄᴀʀᴇ.

Not so Alpha Miguel who has been acting strangely as of late. Snapping at everyone who made any mistakes when dealing with anomalies, having zero patience. If you thought his attitude was bad before, you were in for one hell of a ride. 

Acting as if he suddenly can't hear when anybody ask if he's ok.

Not so Alpha Miguel who flinches slightly every single time someone comes remotely close to him. Quickly creating space between anyone near him. Even you.

"Hey Miguel, are you ok there? Want to grab some lunch?" You would say, placing your hand on his shoulder, noticing how he would shy away from your touch. He was warm.

"No. I'm fine." is all he would say before walking away. Not wanting to hear any further questions.

Not so Alpha Miguel who has been struggling to keep up with capturing anomalies. Quickly feeling fatigued and eventually letting you or someone else handle it, which was unusual.

Watching him walk back through the portal with a fatigued and trembling figure.

Not so Alpha Miguel who has been smelling sweet as of late. The scent was wafting through throughout any area he was in for a mere second. 

Perhaps he was trying out a new perfume?

Not so Alpha Miguel who has been gone for a couple of days. Making you and everyone else worried. You go to check up on him. Beginning on the way to his room once you've found your way. The sweet smell is getting stronger by the minute.

It was overwhelming and almost too much to bare, but in a way, it also pulled you in. Giving you some type of hungry desire you didn't even know you had.

"Hey Miguel, are you alright? Everyone is worried about you. I just wanted to know if you were ok." Whispering in a hushed tone as you open the door to his bedroom.

Not so Alpha Miguel whose heat practically slaps you in the face once you fully open the door. The man squirming and wiggling in his nest, finding it slightly amusing how much he told you that it wasn't what it looked like. Oh, but you knew better than that. Watching as his flush became more prominent with every step you took. 

Hissing at you not to come near him and to get out of his room. Not wanting to give into his shameful urge that he gets with each passing second.

Not so Alpha Miguel who mewls loudly as you push into his oozing hole, wet with slick. His walls clamping around you tightly, making you groan in ecstasy at the feeling. He was practically pulling you in without even trying.

Noticing how once you are fully in. A semi-large bump formed in his belly. It's so erotic, that you can't help but chuckle at the sight.

Not so Alpha Miguel who sobs with every abrupt thrust you give. Shrinking from your predatory gaze as you mark up his chest and neck, or anywhere your know will embarrass him. Slapping his chest when he tries to protest about not wanting anybody to see him marked up like this.  

Not so Alpha Miguel whose eyes can't help but roll back as you fill and pound into his puffy hole. He doesn't even remember how many times he's came at this point. Orgasm after orgasm being ripped out of him. Whining as your seed dribbles out only for you to push it back in.

You didn't want it to go to waste, of course. Your mind was filled with the intent of breeding him until he at least looked a couple of months pregnant!

"I-I can't anymore mmh pleas, it's too much." He would whimper as he subconsciously grinded back into your cock, attempting to match your speed. His words sure didn't match his actions.

"Shut up and take it like the good little slut you are yea?"

Once you are both done. You cleaning him and yourself up. Telling him how you will change the sheets tomorrow and give him a nice warm bath. Making sure to tell LYLA to let everyone else know that Miguel will be out tomorrow.

You cuddle the rest of the night. Falling asleep in one another's arms.

#sub character #miguel o'hara x male reader #top male reader #atsv smut #bottom miguel o'hara x male reader #sub miguel o'hara #dom reader

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Tell me how you hate me now (Miguel O’Hara x fem! Scientist! Reader) Drabble

Hiiii, so I know I said I’d focus on my main series and I am! But I just had to whip this up after my comment thread from my last post. In my head I imagine this being with Miguel from the game Edge of Time but it can be any Miguel variant. Not proofread, enjoy!

Cursing, workplace enemies to lovers, the girls are arguing 🤭, make out session, slight NSFW (just some ass squeezing) but no smut.

Word count: 750

Masterlist

—

“O’Hara! Hey O’Hara!” You called out to the figure that sat alone in the lab room. Your irrational only building when you didn’t get a response, not even a glance in your direction. Your pace quicken, white lab coat flaring out behind you as you close the gap between you and the other scientist. Angrily dropping a Manila folder onto his desk, the force of which made a few of his own papers fly a few inches off his desk. Finally making him look up at you with huff and a scowl.

You two have been working together for the last twelve years at Alchemax, and never had you two gotten alone. Always fighting about projects, butting heads about deadlines, everything about and between you both always ended with fighting and arguing.

“Do you know what this is?” The question was rhetorical, a manicured finger pointing at the file that had the name of your last project proposal printed on top. Your angry gaze on his face never wavering as you watch his tired eyes lazily drop to the folder, before looking up at you once more rather boredly.

“Your last project proposal?” He deadpanned.

“Yes, my last project proposal.” You scoffed, “The one that got rejected because you decided to bad mouth it to Stone.” You glared at him, feeling your blood pressure rising higher than it already was as you stood up straight and crossed your arms over your chest. Your eyes immediately connected with his brown ones as he turned his swivel chair to face you properly, arms coping your mannerisms as you both had a miniature stare down before he finally spoke.

“You're acting like this thing-“ he abruptly stood up, making you instinctively take a step back. Grabbing the proposal and using the back of his other hand to lightly hit the folder before dropping it back onto his desk. The pages spilling out from the hazardous manner, making your blood boil. “wasn't already garbage-“

“Garbage?!”

“Garbage.”

You had to close your eyes and take in a deep breath to stop yourself from lunging at the large man, wanting to tear him a new one. Once you were able to calm yourself down enough you looked back up at him. Despite his towering size over you, you didn’t find him all that intimidating.

“You’re just saying that because you wanted him to pick your project over mine-and don’t say I’m making shit up because you always do it, that’s how you got your project chosen last time!”

“Oh please, god forbid I don’t want to work under you for the next six months. It’s too chaotic! Just thinking about it gives me a migraine…” As if for dramatic effect, a hand goes up and he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Oh yeah, because you’re so pleasant to be working for.” You rolled your eyes, sarcasm dripping from your mouth like venom from a snake’s. “If an intern so much as breathes the wrong way, you lose it.” You're too busy ranting to notice he was making his way towards you. “And don’t even get me started on how you micromanage everything-“

You were cut off by the sudden warmth of lips on yours, eyes wide as you blinked yourself back into the current moment. You had to be dreaming right? Why else would Miguel be kissing you. You didn’t even get to fully process the action before you felt his large hand slip to the small of your back, gently guiding you to make sure you didn’t trip over your own feet as he pushed you up against the wall.

Yeah you weren’t dreaming.

He licks your bottom lip in a silent plea to let him in, you couldn’t help but to melt into the kiss. Once the initial shock finally wore off, your body began to feel hot all over. Eyes flickering shut as your hands landed on his chest, running up to lock around his neck, no doubt leaving wrinkles in their wake. His hand came down to give your ass a firm squeeze, making you involuntarily moan at the movement.

You felt like you could drown in him, he pulled away for air before you got the chance too.

“Been wanting to kiss that pretty mouth shut for a long time.” He admitted between heavy breaths, “tell me how you hate me now with my tongue down your throat.” He taunted playfully, before closing the gap between your lips once more.

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho

#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara au #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 fanfic #miguel fanfic #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara drabble #spiderman 2099 drabble

[macfrog]

rack 'em

the girlies watched triple frontier last week and it was the single most inspiring thing i have ever seen so here’s a lil frankie fic to cleanse my mind. dedicated to my babies @gracieispunk (who put this concept in my head for the wee laddies), @hellishjoel & @strang3lov3 🤍

pairing: bbf!frankie morales x f!reader

summary: when your parents ask you to housesit for them, you take the opportunity to spend some quality time back in your hometown, hanging with your older brother and...getting reacquainted with his best friend

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) reader is santiago's younger sister, she and frankie do not get along, teasing & touching, dubcon (reader is a little drunk, frankie is not), oral sex (f receiving), alcohol consumption, quick mention of dr*gs, cursing, frankie's a bit of a dick but reader gives as good as she gets

word count: 6.1k (cause apparently i don’t know how to write short fics 🤪)

main masterlist

When you were four, a new family moved in across the street. Nobody knew them – your mom spent two straight days trying to scoop for information. Who they were, where they’d moved from, what was with the banged-up Ford pickup they drove. Nobody knew a thing.

You didn’t take much interest, being four years old – two months shy of your fifth birthday, by the way – and too invested in whatever politics a woman of your age finds herself wrapped up in, but you noticed one key thing about them.

The mom had tattoos.

Two full sleeves. Colorful ones, too. A bright red heart on her shoulder, a green snake wrapped around her forearm – among others. It was fucking cool, alright? No matter how much your mom whispered to Ms. Teller over the fence about them.

One night, when you were supposed to be in bed, you snuck out of your room and crossed the landing to your brother’s. Santiago and his friends were all staying at Tom’s, and you knew that in his desk he had permanent markers. You clicked the door open, as quiet as you could, and crept over his matted carpet to the drawer. You took one Sharpie, and spent the night adding snakes and hearts and whatever else came to mind to your Barbies’ arms, legs, faces, necks.

They looked fucking awesome. Just like that mom across the street.

But somehow or other – and I’m not blaming anyone – the next morning, a drawing appeared on the bathroom wall. In Sharpie. Your mom hit the roof.

As soon as Santi got home, she dragged him by the ear into the bathroom and pointed a trembling finger at the drawing. You forget what it was – it’s been years, and you were never much of an artist.

His plea of innocence helped him none; she knew he owned Sharpies, knew he sucked just as bad as you did at drawing, and he was grounded for three whole weeks. No soccer practice, no TV, no PlayStation. Which, at thirteen, is basically a stint in Rikers.

Your brother, though…he was always better than your mom at reading your mind. He saw the guilt on your face plain as the black marker behind the toilet tank. He cornered you in your bedroom as soon as she went back downstairs, and established three key rules going forward.

One: do not enter his room ever again.

Two: no touching his stuff.

And three: anytime he took the fall for you, you owed him. Big time.

You’ve followed the rules ever since. You barely knew what the inside of his room looked like, growing up. But it worked, ‘cause ever since the Sharpie incident of ’99, you two remained closer than most siblings with an eight-year age gap.

So, now, two days into a two-week stay back in your hometown to housesit while your parents head off on a cruise to celebrate their anniversary, you’re in the car with him. Listening to music, bitching about your mom, arguing over the best Cola flavor.

It’s like old times.

“She said, How’s my baby girl?” you yell over Stevie Nicks’s voice, reading from your phone.“And when I said I’m fine, she said, No, I meant the dog. Is she fucking serious?”

Santiago’s head tilts back with laughter, dark curls nudging against the headrest. He’s driving you to Lucky’s, a local sports bar he and his buddies frequent. He promised when he picked you up at the airport he’d take you out, get you drunk, and he was holding to it.

You pull your legs down off the dash as he turns into the parking lot, pulling in right under the white fluorescent sign, four-leaf clover flashing under it.

“She’s looking forward to seeing you when they get back,” he tells you, switching the engine off.

“Oh, yeah? That why she didn’t even hang around to see me before they left?”

He hands you a smug grin, shrugging his shoulders. “Can’t have it all, big shot. You move a thousand miles away, you forfeit your chance of being the favorite.”

You swing your door open and hop out, chasing him around the car to follow him inside. “You say that like I was ever in the fucking running.”

He snorts, pushing the door open, and a loud cheer roars through the bar. You blush as you follow your brother across the room to two tables full of familiar faces.

“Hey, baby.” Your best friend’s arms pull you in, her gold hoop earrings cold against your cheek. She smells like rose and cedarwood.

“Mal,” you hum, smiling as she pulls away.

“My mom said your parents only just made it on board,” she says, detaching strands of her long, black hair from the cuff of your jacket. “Said they had a flat tire and had to race to get to the boat.”

Your head jerks back. “She never told me any of that. Just asked how Ange was.”

Mal snorts.

“Hey, lil Santi!”

You glance over your shoulder to watch as Benny Miller stalks over, almost shoving some old guy off his feet, arms wide open, wide grin spread across his lips. His brother, Will, follows behind, and gives your shoulder a loving slap when Benny pulls you in for a hug.

“How’s Boston treatin’ ya?”

“Good,” you reply. “How’s…MMA treating you?”

“Good!” he echoes, eyebrows almost reaching his hairline.

It’s kinda part of the deal that your older brother’s friends become brothers in their own right to you, especially when you’re as young and easily-influenced as you were. They used to use you in their elaborate plans – send you in as a distraction while they filled their pockets with food at parties, or use your smaller stature to their advantage when attempting to break into places they shouldn’t.

By the time you were old enough to follow their orders, they were well into their teens. Which is basically grown-up, as far as six-year-old you was concerned. They were always allowed to do things you’re still not sure your mom would permit you to do at twenty-eight, like disappear all day without checking in, or come home black and blue after an organized street brawl with the boys from the other side of the neighborhood.

But there was no denying they cared about you. Will, Benny, and Tom, at least. They showed their affection by ruffling your hair as they passed, or sneaking you candy under the table even after your mom had told you you’d had enough. They’d christened you ‘lil Santi’, a name that – despite the embarrassment it always casts over you anytime you hear it – still sticks to this day.

Your brother’s friends were family to him, and, by extension, family to you.

Well. All but one.

Frankie Morales – nickname Catfish: long-time best buddy of your big brother, and long-time fucking asshole. There isn’t one thing on Earth that you two see eye to eye on, except for that very fact: he hates you almost as much as you hate him.

Always have, always will.

He’s in trouble almost regularly for drug-related stuff you don’t bother asking Santiago about. You don’t need to hear details to know he’s a pain in the ass. He’s been antagonizing you for as long as you’ve known him – where the others ruffled your hair, he’d shove into your shoulder as he passed, sending you – and whatever you were holding – flying. Any attempt you made at conversation with any one of them resulted in an argument between you and Frankie.

You hated him. Fucking hated him.

And tonight, you almost think yourself lucky. Almost go over to thank Santi for not inviting him, when you notice the silhouette of his baseball cap and that denim button up hunched over in a bar stool, and your eyes narrow.

You can’t help yourself. It’s been a years-long feud. And you’re old enough to take him on now. So, you stride over.

“You here to poison my drink?”

“What?” he asks, shaking his head. Already exasperated just by the sight of you.

“I bet you cheered the loudest when I walked in.”

He shrugs. “Cheered when your brother gave me fifty bucks to show face.”

Your upper lip curls. When the bartender notices you standing, elbows propped on the bar, he leans over.

“Beer, please.” Your smile twists into a grimace when you catch Frankie watching you. “What are you doing here? You have to be the person least excited to see me home.”

“I told you,” he says, lifting the bottle to his lips, “I’m bein’ paid.”

“Alright, so what do I gotta pay you to make you leave?”

Frankie scoffs, opens his mouth to answer what you’re sure is a comment laced with just as much venom, when Will’s strong arms slap down on each of your shoulders.

“We buyin’ our favorite veterinary nurse a drink, Francisco?”

You take your beer from Nick’s outstretched hand, sliding him the cash in return, and hold it up to Will in reply. “I’m good, thanks. Wouldn’t wanna eat into that fifty bucks, Catfish,” you mutter, turning to wander off.

You weave in and out of bodies, making your way to the opposite side of the bar where the pool tables sit. Doused in the warm strip light over the green felt, Santi chalks his cue ready to play against Mal, who’s already lining up her shot.

You hop up on a stool right next to the table, glancing back over to the bar where Frankie sits, now turned to face your direction. His elbow sits on the wooden surface, head turns from the football game showing behind the bar, over to you. And when he sees you looking, turns back to the TV screen, cool expression never changing.

“You done?” Mal asks Santiago, feeding the cue through her ring-decorated fingers.

He nods, tossing the chalk back over to you. “Better get your purse out, Bennett. Lotta sober people in here, all gonna want a free drink once you lose.”

“As if,” she breathes, and breaks the rack.

Somewhere throughout the game – a grueling and controversial one, by all accounts – Frankie makes his way over, following Will. You’re thankful when he plants himself on the other side of the table, one hand in his jeans pocket, the other around a bottle of beer. Though the light only comes up to his chest, right where the last button is done up, you notice him looking. Every fucking glance.

It pisses you off. Not the glancing. The way it makes you feel having him watch you. Wherever it comes from, you swallow it down with one big gulp of alcohol.

The game ends in a questionable loss. This side of the table swears the white skimmed off of Mal’s final solid when Santi hit it, right before it potted the black. The other side objected, claimed it was a clean shot ‘n you all know it. A winner wasn’t officially announced, but, being that Mallory Bennett is a force of nature where her competitive nature is concerned, Santiago was forced to buy the loser’s round.

She saunters up to you with her free whiskey in her hand, silver jewelry clinking off of the cold glass.

“Proud of yourself?” you ask, smirking.

She hands you your third beer of the night, sweeping her silky hair out of her face. “It hit it, alright? I saw it move.”

“Was that before or after you nudged the table?”

Mal holds a finger to her lips. You swat her hand away and the pair of you giggle, leaning into each other like schoolgirls whispering secrets in the playground.

“You know something,” Santiago materializes over Mal’s shoulder, shaking his head, “if you gotta cheat to beat me, I’ll give you the win.”

“Oh, get out,” you throw back. “Don’t blame her for your bad aim. Ms. Teller could’ve hit that shot and she’s got cataracts in both eyes.”

Your brother nods at you, tongue in his cheek. “Alright, smartass. Grab a cue.”

You scoff. Look around the room, shaking your head. The crowd has dispersed a little, folks have turned back to the TV screens, shifted focus back to the alcohol in their glasses. And then you look back to Santiago, holding his arms out.

“Alright. Fuck it.”

You hop down and snatch the second cue, wandering around the table while he racks the balls. He lifts the triangle, rolls the white over to you, and tells you to break.

The multicolored balls scatter in a fleet, two stripes tumble into pockets, and you stand back to survey your options. There’s a third stripe close to a pocket on the right, so you wander around to your left and turn.

“’scuse me,” you mutter, nudging Frankie’s stomach with the bottom of your cue.

He shoots you a dead-eyed stare, and takes one step back. And then his eyes drop, and you feel like you could slap him.

But you’re three – almost four – beers deep, and there are heads turning to watch how this plays out, and you can feel the bassline of the music rippling up from the soles of your feet all through your body, and you can feel the heat of his stare on the backs of your thighs, right where the hem of your dress sits.

Suddenly, slapping isn’t what you want to do to him.

Your head turns back to the pool table and you bend over, drawing the cue back between almost shaking fingers, and slam it into the white. It fires into the red striped ball, which hits the corner of the cushion, millimeters away from falling into the pocket.

You sigh, straightening up and waiting for your brother to begin his taunting, but it never comes. Instead, he fishes into his pocket for his phone, tapping the screen and holding it to his ear.

“Yep?” There’s a pause, Santiago’s face sours, and then he glances around the bar. “Right now? Really? No, it’s just…” He sighs. “Alright. I’ll be there. Just…I’m coming. I’m coming.”

He hangs up the phone and curses under his breath, then turns back to you, answering the question on your expression with: “One of our informants just got himself killed. I gotta go.”

“You haven’t even taken a shot yet,” you huff, taking his cue when he holds it out.

“I’ll make it up to you, hermana, promise. How are you gonna get home?”

You shrug. Mumble an, “I dunno.”

His eyes scan the room, passing over Will – already worse for wear, leaning shakily against a nearby table slurring to a group of strangers, then to Benny – stumbling out of the bar door with some girl on his arm, and finally land on the figure behind you, sliding a bowl of peanuts across the table to himself.

“Morales,” Santiago calls, and you throw the cues down on the felt.

“No, no way,” but your brother is already pushing past you to get to his friend. “Pope, no fucking w–”

Frankie turns, handful of nuts, cheek full and chewing.

“I gotta go, trouble at work. Can you do me a favor, man, ‘n make sure she gets home alright?”

“No,” you repeat. “He is not taking me home.”

“Baby,” Santi pleads, “just go with him, please?”

“I’ll walk. It’s, like, a twenty-minute walk.”

“No way. Mom would kill me.”

“Well, then, we just don’t tell her. Pope, please.”

He ignores you. “You are not walking home after dark. No.”

“Probably be safer than in the truck with him.”

Frankie’s head stops flitting between the two of you and his glare settles on yours. “Fuck you,” he spits, shaking his head.

“Right back at you,” you reply, insincere smile on your lips.

Santiago puts his palms together and holds them out to you. “Look, just – please. Just this once. I’ll owe you one.”

He doesn’t owe you one often. Makes a point of deliberately trying not to owe you one. This is an interesting offer. You sigh, and roll your eyes.

“Fine. You better fucking pay me back, though!”

“You got it,” he says, patting your shoulder. “Thanks, man,” he whispers to Frankie as he passes, slipping through the crowd toward the exit.

You and Frankie are left, two feet apart, filled with silence and resentment.

“You looking for someone else to hand your ass to you, lil Santi?” he asks, tossing another handful of peanuts into his mouth.

“You’re funny.” You hand him a smile, which drops the second he looks at it.

But when you turn back to the table and lift the cues, you hand one to him. Push it into his chest, shoot him a narrow-eyed glance.

“One game. And only ‘cause I need a sub.”

He dusts his hands together, shrugs. “Shouldn’t take me too long.”

You stalk back over to Mal, who’s giggling into her glass. “You two are unbelievable.”

“Don’t.” You hold your hand up, taking another swig of beer as Frankie lines up.

On his first shot, he pots that same red you were trying to hit before. His eyes lift only for a second, but you catch the cocky look he throws you and screw your face up.

“Fucking…ass,” you whisper.

Frankie’s shoulders jump, his teeth take his bottom lip. He’s laughing to himself when he takes his next shot, and pots another stripe. And then he stands up straight, holds his hands out.

“Just tell me when.”

“When what?”

“To start going easy on you.”

Fuck off. Fuck off, fuck you, fuck this. Fuck!

One more ball potted and finally, fucking finally, he misses a shot. It’s an impossible shot, anyway, there’s no way in hell he was gonna make it, but that’s not what matters. What matters is the way you twirl your cue in your fingers, then lift it and wander around the table, squeezing between Frankie and the wooden edge to get to your shot.

Your ass brushes past his jeans, and when you turn your head to whisper a sarcastic Sorry, he fucking growls. Low, almost inaudible. But just enough for you to notice, and enough for you to keep pissing him off.

The buzz you’re getting from antagonizing him this much must awaken some sort of billiards skillset you never knew you fucking had, because you pocket four balls in quick succession. Red, then green, then blue, and purple. There’s one ball between you when Frankie rounds the table, eyes scanning the felt for the next best shot he can take.

“Hurry the fuck up,” you mutter as he passes by you, on his third lap of the table.

He tsks. “Impatient,” he replies, shoulder brushing yours heavily. You feel the rough denim of his jeans graze your thighs, the weight of him against your backside for the second time. You push back, leaning into him as he moves past, then leans over, slinks his cue between his fingers, and takes his shot.

The yellow sails into the nearest pocket like there’s a magnet pulling it. The purple does the exact same – he barely has to tap it with the tip of the cue and it’s dropping in atop its predecessor.

Frankie turns, shimmying a little up the table, hip nudging yours out of the way. “Move,” he mumbles, shutting one eye to aim for the black. “Come on…” he breathes, and then shoots.

It bounces off of the opposite side of the table, thudding off of the cushion before it’s rolling toward the pocket and dropping in with a plunk.

He stands, fixing his baseball cap, and leans the cue against the table. “Good game, loser,” he says, ruffling your hair as he passes you.

“What age are you?” you sneer as he wanders back off to his beer, waiting for him on the table next to his bowl of peanuts.

Will wraps an unsteady arm around your shoulder as Frankie tips his bottle against his lips. He’s swaying, dragging you left and right with him as if you’re on a boat.

“He’s…he’s always been the best outta us all,” Will slurs, using his bottle to point at Frankie. “’s why he’s such a good pilot. Good aim.”

You sigh, pushing his heavy arm off yourself and slip back over to Mal, who hands you a sad smile and fixes your hair.

“It was a good attempt,” she says.

“Oh, shut up,” you reply, tossing your bottle up and draining the last of it onto your tongue. “I need another drink.”

You cross the room, suddenly less blurry and tilted, more boring and flat, and lean over the bar. “Nick,” you call, and he twists around, “grab me another–”

“It’s alright, Nick,” a voice yells over your shoulder, “I think she’s good.”

You spin around and it’s that stupid fucking baseball cap and the stupid denim button up again.

“What, I’m not allowed to drink now?”

Frankie’s head cocks. “You don’t think you’ve had enough?”

“I’ve had three. Three beers. The fuck is your problem?”

He tuts, glances left and right, and then back to you. “I think I should get you home.”

“I think you should mind your business.”

“Are you this fucking difficult with everyone when you’re drunk?”

“Nope,” you beam at him, “just you.”

He lets go of the grip he has on your arm and starts backing away. “I’m leaving, baby,” he tells you, nodding goodbye to Nick. “You’re either coming, or Pope’s gonna hear all about it.”

You ball your fists, watching the door swing closed behind him. Your feet stay rooted to the ground, eyes flitting from the parking lot over to Mal, who lifts her arms in a question. You shake your head in response, and her shoulders drop.

Sorry, you mouth, beginning to walk off in Frankie’s footsteps.

Mal blows you a kiss, winks once, and then salutes you goodbye. You shoulder out of the bar.

The ride back to your parents’ place is silent, except for the dull drone of whatever fucking music Frankie has choking out of his radio. You watch your hometown pass by, never taking your eyes off of the blurry streetlights or passing mailboxes, refusing to turn your head further than the middle of the windscreen at him.

He’s humming along to the song, jaw swinging as he chews on gum, arm hanging out of his open window. Everything he does is so fucking irritating, like a constant buzzing in your ear, an eyelash stuck in your eye, the feeling of stepping on a wet floor in socks.

So why, every time you do sneak a glance of him out of your peripheral, does the sight of those focused brown eyes, the strands of gray in his beard, the way his curls flick under the brim of his cap – why does it all stir something inside of you?

Frankie pulls up across the street from your house, white wood a milky blue in the moonlight. You unbuckle your seatbelt and let the strap whip off of your body, rattling against the interior of the truck. The most you’re willing to offer him is a nod of the head in thanks, which he returns, and your fingers hook around the door latch.

“Hey, mind if I come in ‘n use your bathroom?” he asks.

You pause. “Uh, yeah. I mind. No.”

“Come on, baby, I gotta piss like a racehorse.”

You scoff, ignoring him and slip down out of the truck. The door slams closed and you wander over to your parents’ drive, hearing a second slam as you cross the street.

“Uh, where do you think you’re going?”

“If your mom knew you weren’t letting me use her bathroom, she’d kill you, ‘n you know it.”

“My mom doesn’t know you like I know you, asshole,” you retort, but he’s still following you to the front door. “Just – alright. Do me a favor and disinfect it once you’re done. I don’t need them coming home to piss all over the floor.”

“You think my aim’s that bad? Just schooled you in a game of pool.”

You sigh, refusing to rise, and open the door. There’s the gentle scuffing of claws on the wooden flooring, trotting nearer and nearer in the dark hallway, and then the weight of your childhood dog shoves into your body.

“Hi, Angie. Hi, girl,” you whisper, scratching the dog’s white fur, her front paws against your tummy.

She jumps down when Frankie slips in behind you, wandering over with her tail swinging back and forth. He crouches down and holds his hand out, cooing, “Hi, baby,” as she nuzzles against his palm.

“She likes most folks who come by,” you utter, hanging your coat over the banister. “Don’t think you’re special.”

“She always loved me most,” he says, still fussing over the pup, “didn’t you, girl? Yeah, yeah you did.”

You roll your eyes and wander upstairs, leaving Frankie to find the bathroom, use it, and fuck off on his own.

It’s been almost eight years since you last lived here, but your room still looks oddly similar. Same bedframe, different sheets. Same wallpaper, only not covered in posters of your favorite bands. Same shelves, too, just that they hold stuff like vases and seashells and other random ornaments your mom’s picked up, rather than a collection of your favorite movies or framed photos of you and your friends.

You pull your dress over your shoulders and kick your boots off, grabbing a tee from your bag to sleep in. The Nirvana logo lies loose across your chest, the hem dancing along the line of your panties.

As you kneel on the mattress, tossing the million and one fucking pillows your mom has stacked down to the foot of the bed, you hear the door creak open.

“Damn,” Frankie mutters, glancing around the room, “haven’t been in here since I was, what, seventeen?”

“Weren’t welcome then, still not welcome now.”

“You still got that Black Eyed Peas poster rolled up somewhere?” He’s walking in, boots scuffing along the wooden floor.

“Are you lost?”

He looks over to you, stood by the bed, t-shirt barely reaching your thighs. “You know something, you ‘n your brother are so fucking different, it amazes me you’re related.”

“I imagine there’s a lot that amazes you, dumbass.”

He scoffs. There’s a hint of genuine humor in it. Like he’s impressed. And then his eyes scan down your body, lingering on the bare skin of your legs, shifting up to the pink cotton of your panties. They shoot back up when you speak again.

“Seriously, dude. What are you still doing here?”

Frankie turns to the dresser by the window, adorned with framed pictures of you and Santi as kids. “Making sure you get home alright, like Pope told me to.”

“Well,” you shrug, “I’m home, ‘n I’m alright. So…”

He picks up a silver frame; inside, faded by the sun and years that have passed, lives a photograph of you and your brother. He’s on his BMX bike, wide, toothless grin, and you’re behind him, standing on the pegs and gripping onto his t-shirt sleeves as you battle not to fall off.

Frankie laughs a little, turning the frame to show you. “You were always so fuckin’ annoying, you know that?” And then, with a shake of his head as he sets the frame back down, “Still are.”

You cock your head, throwing your hands up with an infuriated sigh. “If I’m so annoying, then why are you still here?”

The look he gives when he turns back around answers that question for you, in a way that his words never could. Never would, to be honest. He’d never admit the thoughts running through his head right now, same as you won’t admit that, likewise, they’re running through yours.

It’d be fucking weird. It’d be wrong, hooking up with his best friend’s little sister. Santi only asked him to get you home safe, not follow you inside, walk straight into your bedroom, look at you the way he’s looking at you right now, silhouetted by the streetlight shining through your still-open shades.

So then, why can’t he walk away?

You make to step forward, and Frankie’s already moving. He meets you halfway, stood on some fancy-looking rug your mom probably spent too much money on, his arms instantly finding your waist underneath your short tee.

“You fuckin’ piss me off, you know that?”

“I know,” you breathe, bottom lip brushing against his, “I know.”

He pushes you backward, sends you stumbling across the floor on your toes until the back of your calves hit the mattress and you fall, dragging him down on top of you. You knock the baseball cap from his head and run your hands through his brown curls, pulling him nearer as his hands begin to move north under the worn cotton of your shirt.

His rough hands cup your breasts, kneading and pinching your nipples as his lips fall to your neck, sucking a bruise into your soft skin.

“Frankie,” you breathe, “what the fuck are we–?”

“Shut up,” he whispers back, teeth grazing over your collarbone. He’s moving down, kissing over your tee as he goes, until he’s kneeling on the floor, your legs dangling off the bed either side of his body.

You push yourself up onto your elbows, watching him as he presses fleeting kisses to the insides of your thighs, making his way closer and closer to your center, covering ground painfully slow.

“Would you – just – fucking – get there?” you ask, head tilting back with a groan.

“Always so fucking impatient,” he mutters, pulling your legs further apart. “Makes sense, though,” he whispers, finger hooking around your underwear, “already so wet.”

“Dick,” you hiss, laying back flat on the bed.

Frankie holds the lace off of your core and then dips his jaw, lips lightly ghosting across your folds. You hum with a mixture of pleasure and annoyance, ready to buck your hips up to him if it’ll just make him move faster.

But you don’t have to wait a second longer. He licks one broad stripe up your center, pressing one chaste kiss to your clit before his tongue dips where you need him most. Your legs go to clamp shut, stopped by his shoulders.

“Fuck, Frankie,” you moan, hand coming down to knot your fingers in his hair.

He hums against your pussy, tongue lapping inside you, nose at the perfect angle for you to rut your clit against.

“Fuck…” you repeat, and he fucking laughs against you. “Quit it,” you hiss, and he lifts his head.

Your eyes shoot open, finding his. Alarmed meeting cool.

“Fine,” he says, smirking. “I’ll quit it.”

“Don’t you fucking– Frankie.”

“Your words, baby.” He shrugs, eyes flitting down to your cunt, soaked under his touch.

“I didn’t mean it,” you moan. “Why are you such a fucking asshole?”

He looks back up. The corners of his mouth pull his smirk into a grin. Some devilish grin, thick with arrogance.

“I’m an asshole,” he echoes, elastic of your panties shifting up to his knuckles.

He watches your cunt as he does it. Runs two fingers between your folds, coating them in your arousal, dipping them deeper until they’re at your entrance.

Your head hits the bed heavily, your body writhing over the white sheets as he pushes closer and closer. His free hand comes up and pushes down on your tummy, holding you steady to the mattress, then –

“I’m the asshole.”

He inserts his fingers, curled, thick, stretching you out over his hand as he pushes in deep. A gasp passes through your lips, exchanging itself for a throaty moan when Frankie begins fucking you on his hand, lowering his lips to your clit again.

His wrist pumps in and out, tongue swirling over the swollen bud, palm pushing harder into your stomach to keep you from upsetting his rhythm with how badly you want to move around.

Your fingers lock a vice grip around his hair, your hips the only part of your body he’ll let you move. You establish a pace of your own, fucking up to meet his fingers, grinding yourself on his wet tongue.

“I’m close,” you pant, Nirvana logo distorted in ruffles at the base of your neck. “So fucking close, Frankie.”

And he can feel it. Feel you tightening around his hand, feel the rhythm of your hips start to miss beats, move clockwise instead of up and down. He can hear as your mouth stops rounding the words, fading into slurs and breaths and moans instead of coherent language.

“F-Frankie,” you cry out, and it’s like music to his ears. “’m there, I’m–”

“On my mouth, baby,” he mutters, withdrawing his fingers and replacing them with his lips again, tongue pushing inside you as you fall apart all over him.

Your back lifts from the bed, fists ball around his hair, pushing his face even harder against your cunt as you ride out your high. You’re moaning his name over and over, echoing off the walls of your little room, escaping out the door and swirling around the hallway.

If you could hear yourself, or cared enough to try, you’d feel fucking embarrassed at what you’re doing – coming apart under Frankie’s touch. It’s Frankie.

The same Frankie you started an argument with one Fourth of July over which was better: ketchup or mustard; the two of you spitting insults over the striped tablecloth, obscene hand gestures being thrown up over plates of burgers.

The same Frankie who’d found out it was you who drew on the wall, and from that day on used it as leverage anytime you set a foot out of line. Used it to shut you up, anytime you so much as thought about talking back, or ratting on the boys.

You’re supposed to hate him. Ask anyone – Santi, Mal, your parents. They’ll all say the same. Like cat and dog.

And yet, here you are. Begging him not to stop, keep his hands and his mouth on you; gasping for breath when he eventually lifts away from you and you collapse back into the bed.

You glance down from under heavy lids, watching as he kisses your thighs again, slowly bringing you back to the room. His chin’s glistening, covered in your cum, beard soaked in you.

You slowly sit up, holding yourself steady with two palms pushed into the mattress. Frankie readjusts your underwear and sits back on his heels, running a hand down his chin and wiping himself clean.

“That was…” you pant, waiting for him to finish the sentence.

He just nods, breathing heavy himself. “Yeah.”

“I gotta…I gotta let…Ange out,” you say, words swaddled by your breath.

Frankie nods again. “I should go.”

You stand at the same time, straightening up face to face. His right side is lit warmly by your bedside lamp, the brown of his eye reflecting a tiny yellow orb back at you; the left side is darker, flecks of hair lit in the pale light from the street, face dark and unreadable. Like he’s two different people, split down the middle now, a before and after.

You’re staring at one another, mapping every inch of the other’s face. Learning it, like it’s new. Like you’ve never really seen each other until right now.

And then he’s turning, picking his hat up from the floor in one swooping motion, and walking out of your bedroom. A deep sigh passes your lips as he goes, relief mixed with satisfaction. And then you follow.

Angie circles him when his boots thud down from the bottom step. He bends to give her more attention, waiting for you to softly pad down alongside him. The dog trots off toward the kitchen, and he turns to you.

He’s back to his unphased self, jaw circling around the gum that he’s still fucking chewing. “Two drinks you owe me, now, lil Santi.”

You cock your head. “Hm?”

“One for showing your ass at pool, ‘n another for that.”

“Get the fuck out of my house, Morales.”

He snorts, wandering off down the hall. You spin on your heel and follow the sound of Ange scraping the back door, throwing a glance over your shoulder.

Frankie meets your eye, and like a reflex, the pair of you toss the finger to one another. He laughs, stepping out onto the porch.

“Anytime you feel like losing again, you know where I am, baby.”

----------

taglist: @serenaxpedro @bitchwitch1981 @brittmb115 @stormseyer @scarletthefierce @pattwtf @pascalpvnk @jediknightjana @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi @gracieispunk @hellishjoel

(lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)

#frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales fic #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #francisco morales #bbf!frankie #bbf!frankie morales #pedro pascal #pedro pascal frankie morales #pedro pascal characters #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #enemies to lovers #frankie morales enemies to lovers

[ctrlchar]

HI POOKUMS!!

COULD I REQUEST A JAKE X F READER SMUT?😽

BASICALLY IM THINKING READER AND JAKE HAVE HAD A PRANK WARS GOING ON FOR A WHILE, THE READER THEN ENDS UP PRANKING HIM WITH VIAGRA PILLS (OR ANY OTHER PILLS THAT JUST MAKE YOU CRAZY HORNY)

IMAGINE JAKE HAVING TO LIKE GO FILM OR GO OUT WITH YOU AND SOME FRIENDS LIKE JOHNNIE OR SOMETHING AND PRETEND LIKE HES NOT ROCK HARD, MORE TURNED ON THAN EVER 🙏

IM REALLY NOT PICKY SO YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOUD LIKE HOW ITS GONNA CONTINUE, BUT THE ONLY THING ID PREFER YOU EXCLUDE IS BREEDING KINK IF THATS OKAY🙏

I HOPE YOURE DOING OKAY POOKUMS!!🥰 TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, LOVE YOUR WRITING BTW!!

speed it down then slow it up

a/n:this might just be my favorite request yet tbh so sorry it took this long i’ve been busy lately but i’ll get back to posting regularly soon🙏

also title is from bubble pop electric ‼️

this prank war which jake had of course started had been going on for a eternity. at the moment,he had the upper hand therefore you just had to go all out.

the two of you had mentioned trying some aphrodisiacs a couple times but never fully went through with it. that was until today,when you, jake and johnnie had to record a video inside of a store.

you walked around recording the two boys occasionally passing the camera along to one of them as you waited for the viagra jake had taken to kick in.

you had worn a shirt that showed off a bit of your cleavage but not too much as well as your favorite bottoms

you had been talking to the camera while admiring the items around you until johnnie stopped recording, before practically scolding jake

“hey jake,i get that you may have a girlfriend but i’m trying to shoot a video here and i’d strongly appreciate it if you didn’t stare at her fucking tits the whole video” he says ending it with a sarcastic smile making you laugh

“hm?” he says looking up at you with a somewhat dazed look

you and johnnie let out a laugh at his reaction before eventually forgetting about it and going back to what you were doing

the video continued on as Jake tried his very best to conceal the large boner that has been forming in his pants over the past while, his hands glued to his pockets

he wondered as to why he could barely control himself but that thought went out the window as soon as you had dropped something and bent over to pick it up

he almost let out a small groan at the sight before he concealed it,remembering where he is

johnnie,who was busy looking at some item in the store was oblivious to jake who was practically looking down at you your ass with puppy dog eyes as you stood up

your eyes meet jake’s before they then notice the large print in his pants which you could’ve sworn looked at you first

“please baby don’t leave me like this” he whines in reference to his very prominent boner which you feel as he wraps his arms around your waist,checking to make sure no one else was in the isle

you weigh your options,because if you do help him then you’ll obviously loose the prank war because of your own prank but at the same time you and him wanted it just as bad,he just couldn’t hide it

“come on,you know you wanna help me” he whispers in your ear while he leaves a few small kisses along your neck,with his hard cock pressing right against your ass

this prompts you to quickly go and tell johnnie you and jake were “going to look at something” in the store before darting off to find the nearest bathroom.

as you walked away from johnnie you had a slight skip in your step while you and jake quickly entered the bathroom in hopes no one would see you.

jake instantly forced his hands up your tight fitting shirt groping at your tits before attacking your neck with wet,and sloppy kisses.

“jakey-baby you know I love it when you kiss me there but we don’t have a lot of time” you say in between breaths as he kissed your neck before halting his actions

he agrees but not without a groan and a plea on his end.

and before you know it your pressed against the cold wall with jake sliding the head of his cock inside of you.

with a sharp inhale jake was now fully inside of you,his hands holding onto you tightly as he says a quiet “you feel so good ‘round me” before beginning his assault on your cunt

you slapped a hand over his mouth knowing how loud he gets and as you expected his moans get louder while his strong arms hoisted you and held you against the bathroom stall. and just by how franticly he was thrusting into you, you could tell just how badly he needed you

you rested your head in the crook of his neck whimpering like crazy whenever he would thrust right against your cervix

“fuck- i’m gonna-” he groaned,his fingernails digging into your thighs as he came deep inside you. his hips continuing faster then they had before while his mouth connected with yours to muffle his moans

with his thrusts not faltering,his deep groans and grunts turned more into whimpers and moans when he continued to fuck his cum out of you as the two of you tried your best to stay quiet.

“don’t know how you expect me to stay quiet” he whines with a thrust. “not when she’s squeezing me this good-fuck” he moans out feeling close once again

you then pull him into a passionate kiss, wrapping your arms around him, one of your hands creeping up and gripping his hair. the two of you moaned into the kiss,jakes pace slowing down,the tip of his cock still brushing right against your cervix

you pulled back,with your hands still placed around him “jakey i’m gonna cum” you’d whine out. this then makes jake thrust even harder then before trying to get you to reach the peak he gets you too so well

you bite your lip, and surprisingly don’t draw blood, while you and Jake try your best to keep quiet. once again,you pull him into a kiss to stifle his and your moans as he fucks you through your orgasm.

after a few moments,he pulls out and the two of you put your clothes back on before jake stops.

“uhm babe,i know we just fucked but i’m still uh-“ he stutters too embarrassed to tell you. cocking a brow you question him to which you shortly get an answer when you look down and noticed the tent that was still pitched in his pants

#jake webber #jake webber smut #johnnie guilbert headcannons #johnnie guilbert smut #jake webber headcannons #smut #jake webber imagine #johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert x reader #jake and johnnie #jake webber drabble #johnnie guilbert drabble #johnnie guilber imagine #johnnie guilbert imagine

[kelppsstuff]

Reading your recent post actually made me tear up, in public of all places, I want to give the two of em some.. uh.. comfort

New resident in Charlie's hotel! Who might it be?

Well, since sir pentious can rise, another can go down, right?

Let's say that the reader might've killed one demon before when she joined them in their exterminations

It makes me wonder so damn bad what'll lute and Adam react when they see this demon, the painstakingly similar in body, height, physique darling who, even when damned to hell, still kept her sweetheart personality

This is to soothe the sadness I felt from reading that

“I’m so fucking sorry!” Part two

Part One | Part Two

Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of death.

Summery: After you die for Lute and Adam they find how your reborn a sinner.

Taglist: @lutesb1tch @strawberryclumsy @fandomsbookclub @adamsfavoritesinner @mimmieme

When you died you didn’t expect for you to be reborn a sinner. You had lived an after-life of pure righteousness. The only thing you had ever done was defend yourself and accidentally killed a sinner. So to say you were shocked was an understatement.

You wanted to see Adam and Lute again, but you knew how they felt about sinners. Would they just toss you aside?

You knocked of the newly build hotel, nervous. The door opened and the Princess opened the door. She immediately knew who you were. You looked the same besides slightly larger black wings and the horns on your head. “I had no where else to go.” You voice small and timid.

You waited for her to slam the door in your face but instead she smiled brightly. “I’m so happy you’re okay! I felt so sorry about you death. And some how I even felt sorry for Adam.” She mumbled the last sentence but I still caught it. Adam.

He hated sinners the most. Sure Lute could maybe get behind the fact your one now but she had known Adam longer. Would she choose him over you. If it came down to a choice you’d want her to choose him, so neither of them stayed alone.

“Can I stay for a bit?”

The princess hugged you and showed you around.

—

You had spent the next month getting situated. You found it hard to look in the mirror. You looked so different. A new feature that you had was fangs. They slightly stuck out every now and then. But you noticed when you got mad they’d grow along with your horns.

Today was the same as every other. Wake up, clean around the bar, show sinners to there rooms, go to sleep. Though as you were looking down at the room booking book you heard a voice. A very familiar voice.

“Room for two.”

Adam. You looked up in shock and saw him there Lute right by him. You could see the glare in his eyes.

Adam hadn’t recognized you. But the woman beside him did immediately. Lute felt a sense of happiness wash over her as she saw you. She didn’t care about your new look. All she cared about was that you were here.

The two originally came to completely destroy the hotel and every time they’d rebuild it they wanted to tear it down again.

“A-Adam.” You turned your head to Lute tears of joy and shock in your eyes. “Lute.” Lute gave you the brightest smile you ever saw and was quick to jump over the desk, hugging you.

Adam at first was about to question the hell out of Lute. But when your voice replayed in his head he felt the weight on his chest lift. Was it really you? Did god hear his pleas? “Y/N?” Adam asked, he had to be sure, if this was some joke he’d tear down heaven and hell both.

You looked up over Lutes shoulder and smiled nervous at him. “Hi Adam.” He could hear the nerves in your voice but he didn’t give a shit.

He — just like Lute — jumped over the table and hugged you both. You could feel the breath leaving your body as they started to held you too tight. But you didn’t pull away, finally happy, finally with them. Your heaven. “I missed you guys.” You said to the two. Voice full of love.

“Fuck, I can’t believe you died on us. That totally did not rock.” Leave it to Adam to make his two girls laugh.

Adam felt joy, it had been the first time Lute laughed since the incident. Adam always tried to crack a joke to make her smile, but it was always dimmed.

“I’m a sinner now.” You were scared. This was the moment you were prepared for them to turn their backs on you. But you should have known better, they’d never turn their backs on their sun.

“We couldn’t care less.” Lute pulled away from the hug and cupped you cheek, leaving a friendly kiss on your lips. “Yeah listen to her hot stuff.” Adam spoke and he kissed your other cheek.

Finally with the people who you belonged with.

—

Over the next course of months Adam and Lute would visit you. They talked to Sera and gave the okay on the Hotel. But even if Sera said no, they’d still visit you and every now and then bring a certain snake occasionally.

They two angels had started to noticed you avoiding mirrors and when you saw one you’d just stare at yourself until someone pulled you away.

They watch you look at you reflection out the window. The two sat on your bed, staring at you worried.

Adam was the first to speak, filling the silence in the room. “You okay babe?”

We’re you okay? You didn’t know.

Nothing about you was okay anymore, so you thought. Your white pure angelic wings were now tarnished in black. You’d lost your halo. Nothing about that was okay. But you’d put on a show for them.

“I’m okay, Adam.” You’d never really called Adam and Lute by their names unless you were worried. You’d call Adam, apple and Lute, wild girl. “No your not.” Lute said in her knowing voice. You sighed, you can’t really hide anything from them can you?

“I’m hideous. I’m a sinner, I should be holy and yet I’m a monster.” You could feel the tears looking at your words.

“Your not a monster.” Lute tried to comfort you.

“LOOK AT ME!” You turned to them, horns bigger than normal, fangs longer, eyes glowing red. “This is who I am now!” “And I love you just the same.” She spoke as she made her way to you. Adam unusually quiet.

“How could you love me, when I don’t even love myself?”

Adam shook his head in disbelief at your words. He got off the bed and made his way to you. Cupping your cheeks and looking tenderly into your eyes he spoke. “You should know better than anyone that loving someone isn’t a choice, it’s a gift. You loved me at my worse, of course we would love you through hell and back.” He leaned down and placed a familiar kiss onto your lips. He wrapped an arm around your neck and his other around Lute, pulling you all into a comforting hug.

Maybe, maybe everything would be okay. And maybe Adam and Lute really did love you still.

Who are we kidding, let’s stop with the maybes. They loved you more than ever.

—

HI I’m sorry if this was a bit short, but i hope it brought you the comfort you wanted! Thank you for liking this little journey with Adam, Lute, and Reader. Have a great day! 💛

And a little extra!

You smiled as you squeezed Lutes hand. She had done so good bringing a little girl into the world.

Adam cut the umbilical cord while you took care for of Lute. Adam looked up to you smiling and gestured for you to come to him. “I’ll be right back you wild girl.” You whispered to Lite and walked over to Adam. You looked at the crying baby, she looked just like her dad ironically. “Hold her.” Adam whispered to you. You turned to him in shock. What? You would have thought Adam would want to be the first person to hold his daughter. “Go on.”

You picked her up and started to rock her, bringing her over to Lute, Adam putting his hands on your shoulders lovingly, before giving a kiss to Lute.

Lute cried while she held her baby. Adam crying as well, and gosh you were practically sobbing in happiness.

Some would think you’d be jealous over the two, but that wasn’t the case. You all loved each other equally and you would love that kid as if she were your own. “What’s her name?” The only thing the two had held off on telling you. You didn’t know why, but you were excited to hear what to call the little chipmunk.

Adam and Lute looked to each-other smiling before turning there heads to you.

“Y/N.” The two spoke together and you swore your heart stopped. “What?”

“Y/N. After the person to show us what heaven really is.” Tears flew down your face as you all FOUR hugged.

When little Y/N turned 1, you had been pregnant with two twins on the way. This is what a happy ever after really is. You all three though as you watched Little Y/N playing in the sand. Adam and Lute holding your belly.

—

THANK YOU FOR THE IDEA! This was such a cute scene to write! 💛

Taglist

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #masterlist #adam hazbin hotel #adam is actually hilarious #adam x reader #x reader #lute x reader #hazbin lute #hazbin hotel lute #lute #adam x lute

[sanakimohara]

“Dumbification & Corruption” B.C.

{ MDNI }

++++

A firm believer that Chan has a corruption and dumbifivation kink. The second you start acting all innocent and clueless his cock is twitching. He hates how easy it is for you to turn on him. Walking around in nothing but his shirts/sweaters that are obviously too big for you. He’s got a full view of your perfect cunt when you bend over to grab something and even better view of it when you’re laying on his bed playing games on your phone.

“She’s driving me crazy,” he’d mumble to himself, jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed at you. At some point he forces himself to stop staring and attempts to find something else to do.

Key word: Attempts…

The lack of control Chan has when you tug on his sleeve for attention and give him the cutest puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen is ridiculous. You’re always up to no good too, running your mouth to get a reaction out of him, or purposefully asking him a million questions until he shuts you up with a kiss or by shoving his fingers in your mouth to suck on.

“Baby I really need to focus right now,” Chan sighs and flashes you a small smile, wordlessly pleading with you to be quiet, but you just keep talking.

Babbling and babbling until he groans and drags you onto his lap. You’re facing him, blushing at the sight of his agitated expression, and a little too excited about it. “Didn’t I just tell you to be quiet?, he asks you, voice stern, but you’re completely unphased by his tone with a giddy smile on your face. “No, you never said that daddy.” Your cheeky response is met with a glare from him and you would’ve continued your defiance if he hadn’t pushed two fingers into your mouth. A defeated moan vibrated through your chest and he smiled seeing yours drop. “What? I thought you wanted to use your mouth baby. Go on, I’m still listening.” He teased you, forcing you to suck on them until drool dripped down your chin, and the will to speak wasn’t your priority anymore. Now, you were just insanely needy and that was a good enough punishment for you in Chan’s opinion.

He’d pull his fingers from your mouth gently, placing a kiss on your parted and damp lips before pulling you close to his chest. “Not so talkative now are we,” teased and you just huff into his shoulder.

It drives him insane when you wiggle around in his lap because you’re excited or flustered. You’re so used to sitting like that you don’t notice how hard he gets.

“Sit still, baby girl..” he warns you but it just goes over your head.

Chan has to hold you still sometimes, praying to god he doesn’t come from you squirming around even more to win your freedom back, and you only stop when he sinks his cock so deep inside your cunt that you lose your train of thought for a second.

“S’ too deep…s’too much daddy please..” you beg him to move or at least ease you into his pace, but he ignores your pleas and buries his cock further into your fluttering walls.

“You didn’t listen to me so this is what you get. Shut up and take it..”

You do just that. Taking whatever he offers your weeping cunt.

It feels so wrong to him that he likes seeing you cry from how good he’s making you feel or the little screams you let out when he’s overstimulating you.

“Mmm is it too much for you baby?..I’m sorry.”

It’s addicting. Too god not to enjoy.

He’s seen his cum drip from your tongue, coat your thighs, and stick to your skin. He thinks you look so delicate that way…all used up and quietly sobbing into the covers.

Chan won’t let you lay there long, already helping you get cleaned up, and showering with you before bed. Aftercare is important to him, a prime opportunity to care for you, and a chance to embrace his role as your caregiver. He’s always careful with you, washing your hair, and massaging all the sore spots on your body he caused.

By the time he’s got you dressed in your favorite pjs and curled up in bed next to him you’re perfectly tired out. You don’t ever let him apologize and always reassure him that he’s not too rough with you at all. He sleeps easier knowing that…

+++++

#bang chris #bang chan smut #bang chan #skz smut #skz #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids

[citrustan]

slipping through my fingers [2] (myg)

title: and the hits just keep coming 1.0

pairing: min yoongi x reader

genre: dilf!yoongi, exes and co-parents au, angst!, fluff, smut

summary: you lean on your friend for support and an escape, but the reality of your situation keeps flashing before you.

warnings: [there's a prologue and part 1 that should be read before this one!] just some insecurity, some sad vibes, you know the drill.

Taehyung fails to dodge the fifth pillow you launch at him. "Let me explain!" Repeatedly begging you to stop, he crashes into your kitchen counter.

A pillow to his leg.

"Wait! Please!" He's dodging for his life.

Another pillow to his chest.

"You're an angel! Pleas-" Headshot!

"Ough! Not the face..." He pauses to soothe his aching nose.

By now, you're out of energy too. But, there's still a lot of anger in your stomach. You're too guilty and too tired to let it out on the wrong person.

You spent over twenty minutes reprimanding him for hiding Yoongi's fiancée from you.

Finally having a fraction of a minute of peace, your friend sits you down by your dinner table.

He disappears into the kitchen, leaving you to cradle and console your heart by yourself.

You hear a few utensils clashing and see him juggling four things in his hands; your cat mug, his designated frog mug, a bottle of white chocolate liqueur and a carton of what looks like chocolate milk.

Pointing your finger at the tetra pak, you protest, "Excuse you, that's the expensive chocolate milk and it’s for Nao."

He looks at the half-empty carton in his hand and back at you.

"You're telling me Nao drank more than half of this bottle in a day? And you let her?" Taehyung deadpanned.

...

"Yeah." Your eyes wander as you insist poorly.

He ignored you and poured you a glass of the milk.

Sitting across from you, he grew solemn, "_____, I swear I didn't know it was like this." - "But you knew about her?" You asked before he said anything else.

Taehyung couldn't deny it, "Yeah. But I thought she would just be like the others."

Yoongi had others.

All grumpy, you sigh. "The others?"

Momentarily, he froze and exhaled. "Yeah, there have been a few. He was... I don't know. He kept saying he was serious about each of them but nobody ever... stuck around? So, we thought he was lying or something." Taehyung regretted his choice of words.

You want to believe him, but you both know that Yoongi isn’t someone who lies like that. Let alone big lies, Yoongi won't even tell little white lies.

Over the years, you naturally assumed he was dating around, but you didn't know. Nothing was confirmed. You never asked and he never told you anything himself.

"Who all knew?"

"Everyone. But nobody even imagined that they'd be getting hitched." He shook his head in disbelief.

“Obviously. This is Yoongi you’re talking about,” you pause, “But didn’t you notice anything different with them?”

“I’m telling you, _____, we had no idea.” Taehyung cringes after taking a sip of the sweet liqueur. “I think he wanted to tell you first.”

You wish he never had.

"What are you thinking?"

You dip your head in between your palms, “I feel terrible. It’s like I know I want to cry but I’m so emotionally stunted right now, I cannot get it out. It’s like a stuck yawn.”

Taehyung caresses your arm, "Can I do anything to help?"

You shake your head, "I don't think so, Tae."

"Oh! Do you want to watch 'The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas?' Maybe that will help you cry." He tilts his head, eyes filled with hope.

At that, you let out a surprised laugh, "Taehyung, no!"

Basking in the little moment of success (by making you laugh), Taehyung internally pops confetti.

But, the moment was just that. A moment. Your happiness faded away as quickly as it came.

So, he pulled his phone out and placed it in front of you.

Taehyung’s hesitant to ask you this but he does it anyway. “Do you want to see her?”

You don’t know. (You’d rather pretend she doesn’t exist.)

If it weren’t for Nao, you’d have no problem ignoring Yoongi’s girlfriend. Even thinking of the words ‘Yoongi’s girlfriend’ makes you want to end it all.

It’s no secret that you’re still madly in love with your ex-boyfriend.

This situation felt so ridiculous to you, you couldn’t digest it. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening to you.

As a young girl, you never thought it was in the books for you to go through this kind of pain. And, you don’t have a whole lot to lean on. So, Yoongi has always been it for you. He always told you he’d be there for you no matter what.

Even after your breakup, he was by your side.

When you unexpectedly caught the chicken pox from Nao, he took care of you. Even when Taehyung insisted on helping you instead, Yoongi sent him away.

You shared every birthday with him. He’d throw you a small party. Every year, it was a different theme. This year was ‘enchanted garden.’ He always ordered you a custom cake from out of town. It made everything special.

He even helped you open your quaint little bakery. Yoongi was the one who helped you finalize your menu. He tasted everything and even got himself sick because of it.

He stood by you when you got sued by your competition, another old-timey cake shop, for stealing their clients and recipes. He acted as your lawyer free of charge.

Now, you wonder if it was all out of convenience or… an obligation. Had you read it all wrong? Was he simply being polite because you’re the mother of his daughter? Would he stop doing things for you now? Did he ever do those things for you? Or were they simply for your daughter by extension?

Would he be too focused on his wife now?

Even for Nao’s sake, you never once got the urge to know the woman who did the unthinkable.

As a co-parent, you trusted Yoongi. You knew Yoongi would never let just anyone around Nao. If he wants to introduce his daughter to a woman, you knew it was safe. She could be the next Mother Teresa for all you know.

All this blind trust has been earned by him throughout the years you’ve spent with him, you’re not a careless mother.

However, as a woman and Yoongi’s ex-flame, you weren’t eager to know the woman who replaced you. You don’t want to see or meet her. In your eyes, she was able to compel Yoongi to do something he wouldn’t do even after you begged him to. Maybe she didn’t even have to try. She was probably just that perfect for him.

This is apart from the fact that he fell in love with another woman after you while you’re still hung up on him.

You don’t think you can afford to willingly take a hit to your self-confidence like that.

Nao looks up to you. You know you cannot lose yourself when you have so much relying on you.

Taehyung was kind enough to let you get lost in your thoughts.

“No.” You finally answer his question.

You did not want to see what she looked like.

Taehyung nodded once, “Okay. That’s fine.”

Just when Taehyung’s about to put his phone back into his pocket, it rings.

And on the screen pops this gorgeous woman. She looked like she stepped straight out of an issue of Harpar’s Bazaar or even Vogue. You weren’t surprised, you smiled and involuntarily snorted. Taehyung did have a type.

He hurriedly tried to pull his phone off the table, knocking your (thankfully, empty) glass of milk in the process.

“You don’t have to hide her from me, Vincent.” You tease him, using his artist alias. “Is she your new muse?”

Taehyung awkwardly laughed, blatantly ignoring your question.

Suddenly, he changes the topic, “Oh! Do you have to go into work today?”

Your smile drops a little. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

He offered a strained smile, “It’s like I can feel the alcohol in my veins.”

“Heyyy... What’s up with the model babe? Why are you deflecting?” This time you pout.

You hear his phone ring once again. But he immediately declines.

“Taehyung… What’s the matter?” When he refuses to acknowledge you, you grow more concerned.

“You don’t have to stay, you know?” You continue to reassure him.

“It’s not,” he cuts himself off, “That wasn’t my girlfriend.”

Taehyung hopes he doesn’t have to face your inevitable question in line.

“Well, who was that the….” When you trail off mid-response, he knew you had figured out who that woman really was.

The two of you are silent for a moment.

Sullen, you whisper, “That’s his fiancée?”

Taehyung wishes he never came over to your place. He didn’t want to be the one to make you feel this way.

He nods once. Not that you needed that confirmation.

Quickly moving on to your next thought, you question, “Why is she calling you?”

Already on it, Taehyung visibly cringes at the messages on his screen when you push yourself forward to peek into his phone. This time, he doesn’t try to obstruct your vision.

Hyejin (3)

Sorry! I forgot you were at _____’s. It’s nothing important, I just had a question about Nao-chan. Does she like lemon cake? How is _____ doing btw?

Your mouth dropped open.

You don’t even acknowledge the fact that she’s speaking about you so personally; as if you were a friend or even an acquaintance.

You ignore the fact that she’s fucking stunning, owning the most symmetrical, aesthetically pleasing face you’ve ever seen on a grown woman.

You don’t even dwell about how you do not stand a chance against this woman.

The only thing you see is her nickname for your daughter. You squeak, “She calls her Nao-chan!”  

That’s YOUR name for YOUR babygirl.

“Angel…” Taehyung begins but has no idea what he could possibly say to comfort you.

Pull yourself together. You mentally discipline yourself. It takes a minute for you to get there.

Instead of dealing with whatever you just felt, you push it away in an instant and beam at your friend.

“Whatever. Let’s get cheesy naan and shrimp skewers!”

Of course, your faux smile didn’t fool Taehyung, but he went with it anyway.

₊˚.🎧 ✩｡tears are in your eyes by yo la tengo ₊˚.🎧 ✩｡

note: i hope i'm doing this series justice lol the ideas in my head run too wild for me to actually make note of them. please let me know what you guys think!

#fic: slipping through my fingers #yoongi series #yoongi drabbles #min yoongi x oc #yoongi fic #yoongi fluff #yoongi x oc #min yoongi x you #reader x yoongi #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #bts yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #suga angst #suga fic #suga smut #yoongi scenarios #yoongi dilf au #dilf yoongi #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #yoongi au #yoongi angst #suga x reader #suga au #min yoongi angst #min yoongi au #dilf yoongi au #dilf bts

[angelltheninth]

Done When I Say

Paring: Sasuke Uchiha x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, free use mention, sex to destress, overstimulation, rough sex, orgasm control, sex work, degradation, name-calling, Sasuke is an asshole but what else is new

Word count: 0.6k

A/N: Sasuke commission, god I hope this isn't too edgy and brooding. It's hard to write for him!

There was no doubt that he knew how to fuck you. With how many times he'd done so he'd learned every weak spot you had. A man like him would exploit them to his full benefit and pleasure, yours was just a bonus that he allowed to happen.

"Again." You heard his order from behind you coupled with the lightning fast smacking of his body against yours. "I'm not feel it. Didn't you hear me whore? Or did you lose your ability to understand words?" He doubled his efforts and pulled your ass a little higher, his cock at least reacting to the sight.

Feeling yourself get fucked by him was a weekly occurrence, it was routine, and so were your orgasms, happening when he deemed it necessary. "I just came. I'm still sore from it." You knew that didn't mean anything to him, he wasn't in the brothel to hear your excuses.

"Do you honestly think I care? I payed you to get fucked didn't I? I payed damn well. So you will do as I say and come around my cock." Sasuke's voice was almost deadly calm. If it weren't for him rutting into you and his cock pulsing with new waves of cum you wouldn't know if he felt good or not. Men like him were always tricky, but made you feel so good, which is why despite his attitude you looked forward to Sasuke's visits after training.

You let yourself go for him, focused on his hands, his cock, his balls slapping your clit, his cum trickling between your legs and onto the futon. The orgasm was borderline painful, ripped out of your sensitive pussyhole by him.

"Stop." The word bolted through your body so painfully. With great effort you forced your orgasm to stop, for your cunt to stop spasming around him.

"You're so cruel Sasuke." He hummed in response, if you could even call it such. He was already on the verge of ejaculation, your body responding so beautifully to him only spurred him on more.

"For someone who craves cock so much you have incredible self-control." That was as close to a compliment as Sasuke ever gave you. "Hold still, don't come." Two commands that he grunted out as he kept fucking his cock into you, the slaps echoing, probably heard by the other people in the brothel, maybe even in the street down below seeing as the window was open.

Your pussy gleefully took his thick, warm cum, as did your womb so happy that it's finally him who gets to claim it. "P-Plea-"

"Yes." That was the only word you needed to make your cunt pulse around his cock once again, finally finishing the orgasm that was interrupted before. Sasuke never moaned for you, he was fully silent even while he emptied himself inside of you, fucked you through it all and then pulled out to let the white mess spill out. "Fucking messy. Can't you even pretend not to be a free use slut? Used for the pleasure of any man who pays you." You were below him, but you served his needs so he didn't mind getting messy with you, "Close your legs, you're making it worse."

You let your body spread against the sheets and crossed your legs one over the other, your back and ass on full display for him.

"Hm. Some other time." You heard him mumble as he got dressed and tossed a coin purse beside you. "Extra. Don't ask why, just be grateful."

"O-Oh. Thank you. Thank you very much" If you had the strength you would have gotten up to greet him as he left. But you did meet his eyes right before he jumped through the window, the moonlight shining over his jet-black hair. It always looked so soft, you wondered if he'd let you touch him one of these days. He left with a nod and you were left there to catch your breath.

When you looked and counted the money you noticed there was indeed extra. More than enough to give you a break from work until he visited again next week.

#naruto x reader #sasuke uchiha x reader #sasuke uchiha x you #naruto imagines #sasuke uchiha imagine #naruto smut #sasuke uchiha smut #naruto fanfiction #sasuke uchiha fanfiction #sasuke x reader #sasuke x you #sasuke imagines #sasuke smut #sasuke fanfiction #smut blurb #smut drabble #x female reader

[luvring]

HOLDING OUT YOUR HAND

gn!reader x kuroo, atsumu, hinata, bokuto, iwaizumi | !!! LITTOL HQ COMEBACK !! EVERYBODY CHEER FOR ME!!! PLEAS!@

KUROO doesn't hesitate before saying "hey, babe," then high-fiving you, and continuing to walk past. he doesn't question anything until you laugh softly. the sound makes him whip his head back around. "what?" "huh? nothing." tetsuro hums before walking over to your spot on the couch. "you laughed at nothing?" "yeah. why?" he only hesitates for a second before deciding to lie on top of you. "ow, fuck—" "was i supposed to do something else?" "tetsu—" you groan and hit his back, but can't stop the laugh that escapes. "there was no wrong answer. i just wanted to see what you'd do." tetsuro sighs, and suddenly raises himself to hover over you. "well, that's a relief. did you want anything from the kitchen?"

ATSUMU's, for some reason, first guess is "do you want money?" "what?" you snort. "you think i'd just ask you for cash like that?" he makes some kind of unsure noise and gestures with his hands, trying to come up with a defense. "i dunno! i mean, no, but that's why i was confused!" he whines and you shake your head. "i don't want money, 'tsumu." "what'd ya want then?" "nothing in particular. saw someone's boyfriend hold their hand, and i wanted to see what you'd do" you explain. "oh." he blinks. you watch him stare at your hand before reaching to hold it. "i can do that, too. without tricks, either."

HINATA stops chewing, his eyes flickering up and down, confused. "oh, do you want some of my chips?" he asks with his mouth still full. a smile pulls at your lips, but it's the only response you give. shoyo blinks at you and starts chewing again, albeit slowly. you watch him get a handful from the bag and carefully place it in your palm. "there y'go. if you want more, just ask. i have another flavour in my bag, too." he grins, pleased with his preparedness and figuring out what you wanted. when you don't move to eat any—curious about what he'll do—he stops chewing again and stares. the confusion is back, but he tries to guess again. "did…you want me to feed you?"

BOKUTO turns when you call his name. he notices your hand, and he smiles before bending down to place his chin in your palm. "did you need somethin'?" he asks while you squish his cheeks. "nah, just wanted to get your attention." a chill runs over you where kotaro's hands come to wrap around your waist, sneaking their way underneath your shirt. "okay—ah! are my hands cold?" he pouts, retracting them and standing up straight again. you laugh and shake your head. "a little, but it's okay." his hands come back to hold you, over the fabric this time, and he pulls you into a hug. "sorry, baby. but at least you'll always have my attention, y'know."

IWAIZUMI's sitting next to you, calling oikawa when you hold out your hand. he immediately assumes you want to him to hold it, and intertwines his fingers with yours. your face warms when he brings it to his lips and kisses your knuckles. hajime makes sure to trace little shapes against the back of your hand, and you scroll your phone while you wait for the two to catch up. "what?" the shock in your boyfriend's voice gets your attention. "i'm hanging up now, dumbass." you vaguely hear oikawa whine before hajime turns off his phone and sighs. he looks at you, and you try not to laugh. "you okay there?" "hm? yeah." he manages to smile and press a kiss to your temple. "is tooru okay?" "god, don't even ask."

🏷@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @dimslover @kuroaka @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @the-b-u-n-n-y @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @tooruchiiscribs @curiouslilbeast @makizeninohmygod @hikari-writes

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #atsumu x reader #hinata x reader #bokuto x reader #iwaizumi x reader #kuroo tetsuro #miya atsumu #hinata shoyo #bokuto kotaro #iwaizumi hajime #i missed my little guys :( #speedwrote this fr.

[bulliestrolls]

A Streams Psyche [FLEEK AU]

Introduction to the Fleek AU and what's to come (this was so fun to write hiii)

Honestly, Creek’s never been a huge fan of Branch.

At first, it wasn’t personal at all, or at least he didn’t mean for it to be, he just didn’t like how Branch treated his friends. He was always such a grouch and he was such a downer at every given moment, and it was such a drag to listen to over and over again. If anything, Creek was grateful that Branch typically barricaded himself from everyone else, I mean, if he wasn’t going to be positive, then what was the point of having him around? And yet that never seemed to stop Poppy, her being the future Queen of pop and also his best companion. 

Poppy always seemed adamant on having Branch join their crew and changing his ways. While he never really understood why she wanted to so badly, he couldn’t help but admire her attitude. Something about the peppiness always brought a smile to his face, and he always supported her decisions as a best friend should. Usually though, it never seemed to work in her favor. Branch always blew her off and gave a stink eye to her and everyone else, and quite frankly it got on Creek’s nerves. 

He always did his best to cheer up Poppy whenever it happened, finding it strange how upset she gets over it. Why should she even care if he doesn’t? What was the need to show emotion over someone that didn’t even matter in the long run? Regardless of his thoughts, he succeeded often in bringing back her spirits, the gang usually partying together the remainder of the night as a result. Creek always greatly enjoyed their company, and loved to share his exercises with everyone, his life seemed perfect.

That was until the bergens attack on Pop village. 

Even now, he remembered that day so vividly. Poppy had planned a gigantic celebration for the village to party over them being free from the monsters for so many years. Everyone was so excited to join in on the festivities, everyone except the one who he can’t even think about anymore without clenching his jaw. 

Branch. 

As usual, that damned troll was set on ruining the rest of their fun, claiming how they’re being far too loud and the bergens would get them. Same shit as usual, it was incredible how Creek didn’t gain a headache from the repetitiveness of it. He’s tried before to talk some sense into the troll, but Branch always shoved him away, seemingly as if he were more irate with him than anyone else, which was pretty confusing to Creek. 

Branch, of course, had ended up retreating back to his lonesome bunker, and the rest of the group set up in preparation for the lovely party. And what a party it was, it would’ve been one for the books if the attack hadn’t happened right after. Before much notice, he saw the yellow beady eyes looking down at everyone, and all he can recall is the screams of his friends and the pleas for help which were left unanswered. 

Next thing he had known, he and his buddies were stuffed into a back, shaking with fear and breathing hard, their fate unknown. He remembers not reacting as strongly as his friends had back then. Really, he remembered only thinking of how to relax everyone and for them to have an open and clear mind. How come he hadn’t really processed how awful the situation had been?

Whatever hope he had given his companions started to dwindle the more time went on, especially when everyone had been thrown into a cage, a bergen staring down at them. Even in that situation, Creek had been adamant on everyone remaining calm, and that help would be there soon. He didn’t know if he was even being honest with himself at that moment, he already knew how hopeless the situation had been. And the problem only cemented itself when he was grabbed to be eaten by the Bergens king. 

The moment was instant, he remembered his friends shouting and crying out his name and it all became muffled as the world around him darkened. Originally he had thought he had shut his eyes only to realize he was inside the king's mouth. He was terrified, for the first time in his life, and he could do nothing but accept his fate. Only.. the king’s mouth didn’t do anything. He hadn’t chewed, or swallowed, and it left Creek puzzled.

He still had time! He let out a deep inhale before using all of his core strength to push against the walls of the mouth, letting out a guttural scream until he found himself falling out of it, being met with the two bergens, and the fear kicking back into gear. What was the plan at that point? They were skyscrapers compared to him, running was out of the question. All he could do in that moment was beg for his life, pleading mercy and willing to do anything to be granted such. 

It seemed to have been a running thing through his life, the will to do anything he could in order to get what he wanted. In this case, that was making out of this alive. 

And so, he had made a deal to spare pop village and everyone in exchange to live. He truly wished it didn’t have to be that way, not when he has achieved such a strong bond with the others, but he didn’t have any other choice in the matter, so he reluctantly agreed. The next time he had seen everyone, they were all ecstatic to see that he was still alive, and he couldn’t help but smile despite the circumstances. It was short-lived however, when his eyes traveled to Branch, who seemed shocked and… annoyed that Creek was there. 

Really? Even after everything he was still acting like that? Before he had known it, Branch was exclaiming Creeks’ betrayal, his hair wrapping around Creeks neck harshly, cutting off his circulation to breathe. Relief overflooded him when Poppy had pushed Branch back and tried to talk reason into him. When everyone turned over to him however, he wasn’t quite sure of what to say. 

He… didn’t want to lie so he told them the truth of his betrayal, but it was for good reason. He hadn’t been able to get another word in before Poppy was doing the exact same assault Branch was previously. That was expected from Branch, but from HER? His heart was shattering, wondering where his Poppy had gone. She would never have acted like this towards him before, this must’ve been all his doing. He must’ve been changing her.

Why?

Why was she acting like that towards him? Surely she would’ve understood he didn’t have a choice in the matter, he would die otherwise! He insisted that the other trolls would’ve done what he had to if they were placed in his situation. When Branch had resisted her, Creek’s head felt like it was going to blow when he saw him holding onto Poppy like that. What the hell gives, exactly? It wasn’t like this until only now, and it confused the hell out of him. 

If anything, HE should’ve been the one to be angry in this situation. None of them had done anything to save him from his supposed doom, they all thought he was dead, after all. And, while he may not have enjoyed having to betray pop village, he felt a bit of sadistic glee when it involved Branch being part of the equation, especially now. After all, he made all of his friends hate him, telling them things behind his back. Things that showed Creek was the villain in the scenario, which he couldn’t help feel were ridiculous. SURELY they all would’ve done the same in this scenario, right? Right? Branch would’ve, definitely! He didn’t like ANY of them until only recently, apparently. 

The thought of it all made his head spin, he hated it. He hated him. None of this would’ve happened if it weren’t for that fucker. Creek could’ve calmed his friends down about the betrayal if not for HIS outburst. He wouldn’t have already been rooted against if not for Branch, his friends would’ve believed him, surely. Maybe… maybe this all was for the best! Yeah, yeah that’s it! At least in this way, Creek could properly punish Branch for all he believed was his fault, and maybe, just maybe, he could change Branch to their side once and for all, a feat Poppy wasn’t able to achieve so he would do it for her instead. Then… everything would return to normal. 

He had hoped at least that everything would return to normal.

Creek ended up returning to Pop village and doing what had to be done, which he felt sorrow for, at least that’s what he showed. It wasn’t really known how he was feeling about it all, but he did pity them all for being so weak and powerless in the situation. 

Some time later he finds that plans went south, and he was rolling out of the bergens kingdom with their chef, who was on fire. It was yet another moment of blink fast and you’d miss it. That was also the moment he realized that he didn’t need to betray them at all and everyone was still alive, which gave him momentary happiness, only for it to dwindle at the fact that everyone was leaving him to die. All he could do at that point was to scream along with the other bergen until the fire was put out and she was dead. Except that’s not exactly what happened. For some reason, the fire hadn’t killed her, which was a bit of a shock to him. It might’ve been due to the rough and thick skin of the bergens, but he wasn’t entirely sure. Regardless, since she was out of it from the pain, he thought he could maybe make an escape.

That was until he felt her cold and bony hand grab him, preparing to finish the job and eat him herself. God, he was just going to die no matter what he did, huh? How was any of it fair at all? 

The moment was thankfully short-lived, or at least so he thought, as he felt both of them falling down into a pit. The bergen had died almost instantaneously, sinking down into the stomach acid of the creature that had swallowed them both. He had more time to react than her about it, his small stature having him fall down at a slower pace. With quick thinking he gathered his hair strength to break out, but he still gained acid burns from being in there already. He screamt from the pain but was desperate to get out, to live.

He eventually had made it out of the monster's pit, gasping heavily as he had access to basic air once more, thanking whatever entity above him that was giving him a second chance at life. The troll had focused on tending to his wounds, letting out a hiss of agony at every touch, but it needed to be done. Once he had finally had a chance to think properly once more after his second near-death experience, it washed down on him like a dam. 

None of them cared if he died, hell, it seemed as if nobody even realized he was gone. What could he do from here? He certainly couldn’t have returned to pop village, at least not right now. If they were willing to give him up to a bergen, then they’d likely execute him on the spot for his ‘crimes’. All he could do right now was prepare for his eventual return, knowing that whenever that may have been, there was no going back to the way things used to be. His relationship with them all had been completely severed, and the way he could feel about things felt more warped than ever. 

In the months and the year it took until he returned, he practiced learning basic expressions, reacting to things suddenly and unreasonably to see their effect on others. How to truly react to things became null to him ever since that day, and it was a struggle to come across as normal afterwards. Nevertheless, he persisted, adamant on changing people's minds on him, and getting them to love him once more. 

As expected, his return was at first unwelcomed, him being met with Branch yet again, who was right at Poppy’s side. He couldn’t help but scoff mentally at the fact he was replaced with THIS troll of all things, but he kept his calm and cool stature, claiming guilt and being apologetic to everyone, even though he still didn’t really believe he did anything wrong. It was a stressful situation after all, still, he let them know he was willing to repent for everything and do whatever it takes to gain back everyone’s trust once more. Branch’s face during that moment couldn’t help but creep into Creek’s mind, remembering its vile expression clearly. 

For the most part, everything had been calm. He worked hard and dutifully, really gaining back his place back into the village. It was going according to his plan beside the.. Setbacks. For some reason, anytime he saw Branch, there was the unbridled and raw rage that built inside of him. Sure, he could just stay away from where Branch is, but it’s not that easy unfortunately. Not when he’s constantly walking behind Poppy like a mutt. That is also not to mention Branch had recently reunited with his family members, his brothers. 

Oh great, there’s more of them multiplying. They’re like amoeba. Disgusting, filthy amoeba. 

It seemed that no matter what Creek did, he was always met with Branch’s face in one way or another. Sometimes it got so bad that he lost sleep due to it. He’s also had violent spells on his lonesome just thinking about it all, punching at walls and ripping out his hair just to do something about the thing he had no control of. That was getting pretty old though, and he decided if he couldn’t get away from Branch, he should work on ways of getting rid of him. 

There was one brother that Creek didn’t seem to mind, whose name was Floyd. Floyd was the second youngest brother, according to Branch, and was also quite the apathetic being. Creek never intended getting close or even talking to him, but one thing led to another and it turned out that they could connect pretty well. Floyd would always check up on him, and even started doing yoga, which made Creek overjoyed. Nothing else was expected of their partnership, that is until he had noticed how uncomfortable it had made Branch. Not only that, but Poppy even talked to Branch about how nothing could be done because Creek wasn’t hurting anyone. The comment of her not liking him either stung, but was quickly wiped once he realized what this could mean for him. 

This was it. THIS was how he could fix his issue with Branch, it all made sense! Creek hated seeing Branch happy, and that must be where all of the rage came from! If Branch were in ruins however, then Creek could return back to normal, even feeling a bit of joy from it. His friendship with Floyd was enough to unsettle Branch, so why not take it a step further? He could start flirting with him, taking him out on dates, hell, maybe one day he could even ask for his hand in marriage. Oh, Creek bet that would kill Branch. The thoughts in his head raced with ideas for what he could plan with Floyd, and it made him positively giddy.

If only he had known what this all would’ve done to him, then maybe he would’ve rethought everything.

#dreamworks trolls #trolls fanfic #trolls au #trolls angst #trolls fleek #fleek #trolls creek #trolls floyd #fleekedup #fleekedup fr #fleeked up

[writershapeholeonthedoor]

Happier than ever

Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your previous relationship was toxic and you're still coping with it.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. This was requested by one of you 🤗

Warnings: Mention of domestic abuse and toxic relationship

MASTERLIST

“Babe,” you called out as you walked inside the kitchen where your girlfriend was making dinner for both of you.

“Yes, love?” Elizabeth replied without turning back, though she reached out her free arm to curl around your waist as soon as you got close enough.

You leaned over to take a deep breath and look inside the pan, groaning when your mouth watered at the sight and smell. Elizabeth chuckled and pinched your side playfully, making you squirm away with a laugh. “How long until we can eat?” You asked with some sort of playful plea behind your words.

“Soon. Can you keep the black hole you call your stomach in check until then?”

You knew she was playing with you, teasing, the same way she always did, but you still bit your bottom lip when tears pricked at the back of your eyes. It was silly, but you had a hard week and you were quite sensible about everything lately. Deep down you knew it was a joke. At that moment, though, you asked yourself if Elizabeth thought you were eating too much. And, if so, if she thought you had gained weight.

“What were you going to ask me?” Elizabeth asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You were about to ask something totally different, but you couldn’t brush the worries to the side. “Are you saying I eat too much?” Her reply was to scoff and roll her eyes, which was not an answer at all and only made you worry even more. You didn’t press the subject, even if you wanted to insist on a direct answer. “Well, I was going to ask if you’re going to be here next week. Friday.”

“No,” Elizabeth said without missing a beat, but this time she turned her head to give you a sad smile. “I travel on Wednesday, remember? I have the Comic Con coming up.”

“Oh, right,” you sighed and frowned.

Elizabeth’s busy schedule was a surprise to you since the beginning of your relationship. You could barely keep up with it, couldn’t even understand how it was possible for someone to travel so much, but you liked to think you were getting better at it. It has been six months since you met and four since you officially started dating, but those have been the best months of your life, for sure.

“Why do you ask?”

“Oh, my friend is throwing a party and invited us,” you explained. “But I will tell them we can’t go.”

“I can’t go,” she corrected you, clearly confused as she threw you a glance. “You can. Or do you have something else to do?”

“Oh,” you breathed out. You didn’t realize it, but your fingers were grabbing your telephone harder than they needed to, your knuckles going white. “I just… Well, since you can’t go, and it’s a nightclub, I thought…”

You thought you weren’t allowed to go, but you didn’t say it out loud. You had a girlfriend now, you were in a relationship, and you weren’t supposed to go out without Elizabeth, especially not to a nightclub. Just after that thought crossed your mind, you wanted to scold yourself.

Of course you could go, of course you could have fun, of course you were allowed to be outside without your girlfriend. You just had to keep reminding yourself of that because it didn’t come naturally to you.

“You should go,” Elizabeth said, once again taking you out of your head without even realizing it. “That’s your friend from college, right? You told me you missed her.”

“Right, yes,” you mumbled. She moved to grab something and you took two steps back to give her room to do so, going silently as you watched her for a few more seconds. “I will think about it.”

You are mostly in silence, although Elizabeth kept talking about her upcoming agenda so you didn’t have to say much. She seemed excited to do interviews with her castmates and to see some of them again, and didn’t notice you were oddly quiet. You washed the dishes after you were done eating and you both watched some comedy movie before going to bed to sleep. You woke up feeling much better the next morning, thinking last night had been just a small downfall.

[...]

It happened again two weeks after Elizabeth was back from her trip. You were at your apartment this time eating pizza and drinking wine because neither of you wanted to cook. You were sitting at the table trying to finish off some work you brought home while Elizabeth was sitting across from you reading some of her lines for an upcoming shooting, both of you in comfortable silence.

It has been maybe half an hour or less that you were taking notes and writing down a few things when you remembered something and quickly grabbed a post-it to scribble four numbers on it. You reached out to glue it at the table in front of your girlfriend and she lowered her papers to look at it with confusion. She arched her eyebrows and looked at you, clearly asking for an explanation, and you shrugged.

“I changed my phone’s password yesterday.”

Elizabeth blinked at you, then looked down at the four numbers you had picked to be your new password, then back at you. “Is this your password?”

“Yes.” You nodded, already turning your attention back to your work. You were already biting the back of your pen again trying to decipher the numbers your team had provided you with when you noticed she was still looking at you. “What?”

“Why did you give me your password?”

You opened your mouth to reply, only to quickly close it again when you realized what you were about to say. Your cheeks burned in shame when you noticed what you did and why you had done it, and you quickly reached out to grab the post-it again, crumpling it with your hand and choosing not to reply to her. It would sound as stupid out loud as it did inside your head. She didn’t ask for your password, she never even asked to look at your phone, to see your text messages, to take a look at your DMs.

Once again, you were betrayed by habit.

Luckily for you, Elizabeth’s phone rang a second later and she excused herself to answer it, saying it was the director of her new movie. You watched her go before you took a deep breath and ran your hands down your face. You stared at the screen of your computer for so long that Elizabeth was back before you even moved to go back to work.

When she sat across from you, it seemed she didn’t even remember the odd conversation you had a few minutes ago, and you weren’t sure you were glad.

[...]

“Excuse me,” you heard someone saying to your left and turned around out of instinct more than anything. You saw a nice looking girl, with a soft smile, dark hair, and dark eyes, looking at you and you waited for her to keep talking since you had no idea why she caught your attention. “I normally don’t do this, but I was looking at you and I thought… Well, maybe you could give me your number so we can grab a coffee someday.”

You felt your eyes widen and your mouth drop open in shock, but you wasted no time looking out for your girlfriend to see if she had heard this girl talking. Elizabeth was leaning against the counter looking at the menu while she tried to pick what she wanted to drink and didn’t seem to have paid any attention to that, so you sighed in relief and turned around to the girl again. You offered her a polite smile before taking a respectful step back.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I have a girlfriend.”

“That’s okay. I’m sorry to bother you.”

And, just like that, the girl was gone with her cheeks red and a shy smile. You shook your head and approached Elizabeth to look over her shoulder at the menu to pick up your order, but her voice made your entire body freeze.

“You keep turning heads whenever you walk, huh?”

Your heart started to race and your mind ran a mile per hour trying to come up with a reply, but then Elizabeth turned her head to look at you and she had an amused smile and bright green eyes filled with mischief, which made you quickly realize she was only teasing you. She wasn’t mad. She thought it was funny.

Not sure how you could reply to that, you simply rolled your eyes. “Pick your coffee. The line is already outside the door.”

She chuckled, looked away and started giving her order to the boy behind the counter. Meanwhile, you cursed yourself for having another panicked reaction. When you sat down to drink your coffee, Elizabeth started chatting about her most recent trip and you listened as much as your troubled mind allowed you to.

Eventually, after she took a break to sip at her coffee, you decided to address something that had been bothering you for a while now. “Lizzie, remember when I told you about my previous relationship?”

She frowned, but nodded. “Yes. You said it ended a couple of years ago.”

“Well, yes, but… I didn’t mention that it ended badly after a huge fight we had. One of the fights we had,” you told her. “We had many fights, actually.”

“Oh,” she breathed out, seemingly confused as to why you were telling her that.

“Yeah, she was… she was a bit jealous.” You sighed. “She would have flipped a table if someone hit on me like that.” You decided not to mention that a table would have been literally flipped if your ex-girlfriend was the one standing there. The relationship you had before Elizabeth wasn’t a good one, even if you stayed with your ex for almost eight years. Every once in a while, you were surprised to see how different things could be with Elizabeth.

“Well, you are a very beautiful woman,” Elizabeth said with a charming smile and a wink at you. “I can’t blame people for looking.”

And she looked so happy, so relaxed, so truthful saying that, that you didn’t have the heart to keep telling her about the things you lived before she came into your life. Instead, you also smiled and decided to brush it off. You would talk to your therapist again, you would keep working to heal some wounds that were still bleeding, and it would be fine.

It would be fine.

[...]

You were putting some clean clothes away when you felt two hands suddenly grabbing your waist and a yelled: “Gotcha!” right to your ear.

You were distracted, thinking about work and your chores, so you obviously weren’t expecting that. The yell that left your lips wasn’t a normal one. It wasn’t a surprised, playful one. It wasn’t one you could brush off with a laugh. No. You yelled like you were afraid for your life, dropping everything you had in your hands and shrinking away before you could stop yourself.

And then, because things weren’t already bad enough, you felt yourself slipping into a panic attack very fast. Your breath got hollow, your heart started to race, your vision blurred, and all you wished was to crawl to a corner and cry.

“Hey, hey, it’s me,” you heard Elizabeth saying, only then realizing it had been her who sneaked behind you. “Y/N, calm down, take a breath.”

You tried to. You really did. But your chest felt like there was a train on top of it and you were shaking so much that you almost missed the edge of the bed when you tried to sit on it. You barely felt Elizabeth’s hands guiding you, you certainly missed when she tried talking to you again, and you didn’t notice when she walked to the kitchen to grab you a cup of water before returning as fast as she could. She coaxed you to drink the water, then grabbed your hands and started asking you to name things you could see, things you could smell, things you could feel, and things you could hear, until your breathing started to calm down and you were able to look at her again.

“Are you okay?” She asked, her eyes filled with concern and guilt, and you couldn’t take that so you looked away.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Are you sure?” You nodded, soon hearing a sigh from her. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to scare you that much. I just… I saw you were distracted and I thought it would be fun to jump on you. I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s not your fault,” you told her with a sad smile.

It was sad because it really wasn’t her fault, but the one to blame for that wasn’t around. No, the person who made that to you was far away, living her life without traumas, without dealing with those moments of doubts and fears, acting as if she hadn’t ruined you forever. You were the one who stayed with all of that to deal with. You were the one with the scars, the wounds, the hurt. And you just lashed out at someone who had nothing to do with that.

“My love,” Elizabeth said in a gentle, concerned voice. Her hands were placed at your thighs, but she wasn’t moving them, afraid her touch might trigger something else. “Can you tell me what happened?”

You didn’t want to, not really. Because you knew things would change after you said something. You wouldn’t have Elizabeth playfully jumping on you. However, you knew you should tell her everything because it wasn’t fair to you to endure it all alone.

So you took a deep breath and patted the bed beside you so she would get up from where she was crouched on the floor. Elizabeth understood and quickly got up to sit beside you, reaching out to grab your hands as soon as she sat. You smiled a bit at that, although it soon disappeared as you thought about how to start that conversation.

“My ex-girlfriend…” You had to pause to swallow the lump that raised in your throat. “When we had that fight that led to our breakup, she… well, she pushed me really hard when I was doing the dishes. I hit my head against the cupboard. She started yelling into my face, calling me names and all of that because she thought I was cheating on her. Well, that was the night I decided to leave her, but… But so many things happened before that.” Your voice was barely a whisper at the end, but you felt Elizabeth squeezing your hand and giving you the strength to keep talking. “It was never physical before that, though I’m sure it would be a common thing if I stayed after that night. It was small things that I didn’t even realize at first, you know? She would look through my phone, so I always had to give her the password to access it or it would start a massive fight. Every time I had to change it, for whatever reason, she got so mad. So mad,” you added with a grimace. “She would make small comments about my weight and the way I looked just to make me sad. I know that’s why she did that. I would be having a good day, a day where I was happy, and she would say something just to see my smile go away.”

“Oh, baby,” Elizabeth whimpered and you wondered if she even noticed she said it out loud.

“I couldn’t go out with my friends without her and, even when we did go out with them, I had to stay next to her,” you continued. “If someone hit on me, she would yell at me, say it was my fault, that I was acting like a whore and that’s why people thought they could come to me. She was jealous of everything and everyone, it was a nightmare. I lost count of how many times we had a massive fight about nothing and she would just storm out and I would stay up all night wondering if she was okay, wondering if she was coming back or not.” You took another deep breath. You had been looking at your joined hands since you started talking, knowing you wouldn’t be able to say it all if you were looking at her. “We broke up over two years ago and I thought… I thought I would never enter another relationship again, but then I met you and I…” You opened and closed your mouth a couple of times, suddenly at a loss of words to express what you wanted. “I’m so lucky to have you in my life, Lizzie. You’re nothing like her. Nothing,” you repeated to make sure she would understand that. “But she left scars in me that just pop up sometimes.”

“Oh, baby,” Elizabeth said once you were done talking, now looking at her. It was clear she wanted to reach out to hug you but wasn’t sure if the gesture would be welcome, which made you even more sad. That’s what you were afraid of. That’s why you hadn’t said anything before. “I’m so, so sorry that you had to go through that.”

“Yes, well,” you smiled sadly. “It’s over. I left that place and never looked back.”

“You did,” she agreed with you. “You were so brave.”

“Now you know why I randomly gave you my password,” you tried to joke, but you couldn’t master enough humor to do so.

“How could I have not realized it before?” Elizabeth asked herself. “God, how didn’t I see it before?!”

“I didn’t tell you anything before,” you reminded. “And you had a lot on your plate already.”

“That’s not an excuse,” she insisted. “You’re my girlfriend, someone I deeply care for, someone I love. I should have paid more attention to those signals. Gosh, they’re so clear now that you said it.”

“Lizzie, that’s the thing,” you interrupted her. “Now that I told you, you know what to look for. You didn’t know before. I’m not going to apologize for not saying anything because I wasn’t ready to do so. I know it’s been two years, but it still pains me to remember some things.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Neither do you.” You looked at her with stern eyes. “You didn’t know.”

“You tried to tell me that day at the coffee shop,” she reminded with a frown. “You told me you guys used to fight, but I didn’t think…”

“Elizabeth, stop.” Your firm voice made her close her mouth and look at you with wide green eyes. “It happened, it can’t be changed. You know I go to therapy and I like to think I’m getting better and better every day, but it’s hard to break some habits, especially the bad ones. I’m telling you this now so you can understand some of my actions as well. I overreacted when you scared me, but I had a reason to. I freeze when you walk behind me when I’m on my phone, because I expect you to grab it from my hand. I might cry if you raise your voice while we discuss something, because I expect you to yell at me and walk away. I’m trying to be better, but you need to know that those things might happen along the way.”

“My love, I’m so proud that you told me this,” Elizabeth affirmed, suddenly bringing tears to your eyes. “And I’m so proud of you for leaving something that wasn’t good for you. I promise I will be more aware of those things. I won’t jump on you anymore, I won’t make any jokes that might make you uncomfortable. You just name it and I will do it. Whatever you need.”

You felt your heart full with the honesty you could see on her face and hear in her voice. Elizabeth seemed truly worried, truly willing to find ways to help you out, to make things easier for you, and you felt the lump in your throat again.

“I bet you weren’t expecting to end up with a mess like me,” you commented with a watery laugh.

However, Elizabeth shook her head vehemently. “Don’t say that. You’re not a mess. Do you remember when I told you I don’t like getting drunk or being around people who get drunk? I noticed that you never drank too much after that. You’re always in control to make me comfortable. That’s what I want to do for you. That’s what you deserve at the very least.”

“I love you,” you whispered since all the emotions running through you were making it hard to say anything else.

“I love you too, my love. And I promise you to be by your side as long as you want me to.”

“I hope you have the time, then,” you joked, already leaning in for a kiss. “Because I don’t want you to be anywhere else.”

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x you #celebrity x reader #marvel #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #fanfic #creative writing #my writing #drabble #angst

[gimmeurtmi]

pick me ups — lee know

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, saviour boyfriend trope

warnings: swearing, drunk reader, uncomfy levels of flirting by some strangers, minho saves reader from them, “dick” used as an insult, reader’s friends leave her in a club, they don’t like minho either, protective!minho, he gets angry but not at reader, cheesy af towards the end

inspo: protective!minho + hurt/comfort

notes: this was meant to be a small drabble but it’s minho so i got carried away.

{ wc: 2501 }

‘canb u come n getf me pleaseeeee’

bunny<3: where are you?

you: outside!

bunny<3: outside of what?

you: location pin

bunny<3: do the girls need a lift, too?

you: the grids left me lollll

you: girl*

you: girlssss*

bunny<3: wtf do you mean left you?????

you: aporently immshitty friend so he wnt somewhere else

bunny<3: are you fucking kidding??? are you drunk??????

you: i’m sorry. pls dont be maf

bunny<3: jagi i’m not mad at you at all. please stay somewhere with light i’ll be there in ten minutes.

you: can i cakk im scare

Your phone rang in your hand a few moments later. You tried your hardest to press the bright green button–answering your boyfriend’s call quickly.

“Hey, Min,” you hiccuped. “I’m so so sorry for asking you to do this.”

“Why are you apologising?” He said, his tone soft and careful. You could hear his keys jiggling in the background, you could hear the door opening and closing–his voice echoing through the stairwell as he spoke on. “What do you see around you?”

“I’m just outside the club, there’s a few people smoking and talking and there aren’t any cabs so I couldn’t get one home. I’m sorry.”

“No, no. I don’t want you getting on a cab by yourself,” Minho said firmly. You swallowed.

Your head was spinning, and the smell of smoke was getting into your hair–but you wanted to stay next to the crowd for as long as you could.

“Can you wait somewhere near the bouncer so he can at least see you?”

“Okay,” you nodded, looking over at the tall man as he checked over more and more IDs. “Him and me will be besties soon!”

“Good,” Minho chuckled. His voice was further away from you now, you figured you were on speaker as he drove to you.

“Min, I’m so thirsty,” you whined.

“Where did the girls go?” He asked, his voice slightly strained. You knew what Minho sounded like when he was angry–and right now, he was furious.

“I’m sorry, please don’t be mad,” you repeated.

“Jagiya, I’m not mad at you,” he repeated back, “why the fuck did they leave you alone when you’re drunk?”

“Because I’m a dick,” you said, biting your lips.

That was their words, of course, but they were pretty convincing in their argument. You didn’t want to play wingman tonight, you never wanted to, but as the now only girl in the group who wasn’t single–that made you out to be a villain.

“What the fuck?” Minho all but yelled. You grimached.

“Min, plea–”

“--I’m sorry,” he said quickly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you. It’s just, you’re definitely not a dick. Why did they say that?”

“I don’t know,” you hiccuped again. You blinked twice as you tried to get your vision to stop moving around. “They had some good arguments.”

“Friends don’t just leave a girl alone in the middle of the night when she’s drunk,” Minho argued, “I can’t fucking believe them.”

“Min, Min, Min,” you said quickly, stepping away from the crowd. It was then you noticed a guy in the smoking area was looking right at you–his eyes never moving away from you. You whispered down your phone, “some guy is looking at me.”

“I’m just around the corner, my love, I’m almost there,” he promised you quickly.

“Okay,” you nodded, taking your phone away from your ear and ending the call. You weren’t too sure why you did that–looking at the phone in your hand curiously.

You brought your hands around your body, shielding yourself from the cold. And also, from that man’s prying eyes. You were wearing a revealing top, which you didn’t mind until this very moment.

You were alone. You were drunk. And this man was looking at you. The reality of the situation had finally made its way into your brain, past the very thick wall of alcohol.

The man was walking right towards you.

“Hey, what’s your name?” He said with a smile.

You looked away from him, trying to spot Mnho’s car coming down the road. Five cars drove by–none of them were his.

“Oh, come on, what’s your name?”

“I’m just waiting for someone to pick me up,” you said with a polite smile.

He leaned forward, putting a hand on your shoulder, “oh, don’t leave yet. I haven’t had a chance to dance with you.”

“I don’t wanna dance, thank you,” you said, simply.

“You looked sad earlier when those girls were yelling at you,” you looked away from him, feeling embarrassment sneak through the alcohol in your veins, “what was going on?”

“Nothing,” you nodded.

Then his friend came over, slinging a hand over the man’s shoulder and then yours, pulling the three of you together.

“You’re coming inside with us?” He asked, practically yelling down your ear.

You tried pushing away from his grip–but even though he was very drunk, he was still much stronger than you.

“No, thanks. I’m just on my way home,” you tried again.

“Maybe a kiss will change your mind,” the first man said, leaning towards you. You moved your head away as much as you could–the other man still trying to hold you in place–and his lips ended up landing on your ear. You squirmed.

“Come on, what’s wrong?” They both chuckled at you.

“Give me a kiss, come on,” he said, a wet smile on his face, puckering his lips in front of you.

You shook your head at them, trying your best to step away, but every time you did the hand around your shoulder brought you back closer to them.

“Y/N!” Someone yelled behind you.

You let out a sigh of relief, the shake in your hands finally catching up to you, as you saw Minho walking towards you. His face was hard, calculating, as he finally reached you. He looked at the boys in front of you with pure disgust.

The boys next to you took a step back–finally–looking Minho up and down.

“Who’s this, your boyfriend?” One of them snickered.

“Yes,” Minho said firmly, cocking his brow up. “Who are you?”

“We’re just gonna take her dancing,” the man dared with a smirk. Minho’s jaw clenched. “You’re coming inside with us?”

“No,” Minho scoffed.

“Oh, come on, we’re having fun!” The second one yelled.

“I don’t think she’s having fun,” Minho said. He brought his arm around your body, taking a step forward as he put distance between you and those two strangers.

“We’ll make sure she does–”

“--oh, just shut up,” Minho rolled his eyes. He looked at you, eyes trailing up and down as he checked everything was okay. He noticed the small shake in your hand and took it in his.

“Ready to go?” He asked, his voice changed completely from the rough tone he used with the strangers, now taking on a soft and caring sound.

You nodded at him, letting Minho guide you away and towards his car.

He opened the door for you, helping you step inside the passenger seat before he made his way around to his side.

When the doors closed, he quickly turned on the heating and handed you a bottle of water.

You could feel Minho’s eyes studying you as you took in a few gulps of water, handing the bottle back to him with a small thank you.

“Wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, so so softly.

“Wanna go home,” you said, weakly.

Minho nodded, starting the car easily and making his way back home.

“Want some music?” He asked, taking a moment to look over at you. You were curled in on yourself, quiet, not at all what he was used to when he picked you up from parties before. You were usually loud and energetic when you were drunk. He wasn’t quite used to seeing you this way.

“No,” you said quietly. “Can I hold your hand?”

Minho didn’t respond verbally, instead he took the hand on your lap and laced it together with his–focusing on driving with one hand.

By the time he parked the car your body was completely angeled towards the window–your face unseen to him.

“We’re home,” he said softly, squeezing your hand.

You only nodded.

“Hey,” he let out, bringing his finger underneath your chin in the softest of touches. He turned your face towards him, sighing as you squeezed your eyes shut. Your cheeks were damp.

“My love,” he sighed, “what happened?”

You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him tightly as you pulled your body into him. Minho brought his body around you. You felt safer, now.

You were just outside your home, the car was much warmer than the night outside, but not until Minho wrapped his arms around you did you feel truly safe.

You finally let the sobs you were holding in spread out through your body, your shoulders shaking slightly as you buried your face in your boyfriend’s shirt.

Minho didn’t interrupt you, letting you cry for as long as you needed. After a few minutes you pulled away, sniffling as you wiped your face.

“Let’s go upstairs?” Minho offered quietly. You nodded.

You followed Minho back home, you followed him into your room, and you watched as he pulled out your favourite fluffy pair of pyjamas and walked you to the shower.

“I’ll make you some late night snacks?”

Your eyes were burning by the time you left the shower—but you thought that was from the crying and not the shampoo. You couldn’t really stop crying, still fighting back sobs as you sat on the couch, watching as Minho prepared your favourite snack.

He grinned at you as he walked the plate to the couch, his eyes glittering as you smiled up at him.

“Eat, Jagi,” he ordered delicately.

The pair of you ate in silence, Minho glancing over at you every few seconds, before you finished the food on your plate and handed it back to your boyfriend. He took the plates from you, putting them in the dishwasher, before he returned to you with another water bottle and an order to drink it entirely.

At least you had stopped sobbing by now, so it was easier to drink the water.

When you noticed it was about three in the morning, Minho’s phone rang. He looked at you curiously before he picked it up from the table, noticing it was one of your friends.

“Yes?” He answered, coldly.

“Did you take her home?” A drunken voice said from the other side.

“Why? You don’t get to care about that now,” he said firmly.

“I’m just checking she’s safe,” she groaned.

“You didn’t care if she was safe when you left her alone, drunk, in the middle of a very busy club.”

“Minho, why do you have to be such a dick?”

“She likes that word, huh?” Minho whispered at you. You somehow found it in yourself to chuckle.

“Tell Y/N that next time she wants to come out with us she needs to learn to loosen up,” Minho scrunched his brows at that, “or I guess, when you decide to act like yourself and just dump her.”

“What the fuck?” He all but yelled.

“Just… tell her to call us when you two break up.”

“You’re such a c—“

but before Minho could use whatever colourful word he was going to say, you took the phone from his hand and ended the call.

Minho stared at you with a question mark on his forehead, blinking three times.

You sighed.

“They wanted me to help them flirt with guys and I said I don’t want to because I have you and then they said soon enough you’re gonna break up with me because you’re not a relationship person you’re just leading me on, and when I defended you they just left and said they’ll hang out with me when I’m not a boring housewife anymore,” you let out in one big breath.

You couldn’t really look in Minho’s eyes—too scared of his reaction. Would he get mad at you? Would he get mad at them? Would he say it’s all true and leave you?

You almost jumped when Minho wrapped his hand around your shoulder. He leaned in to kiss your temple softly.

“Thanks for not flirting with other guys,” he started, “I wouldn’t care that much if you just did it to help your girls out anyway, but it means a lot that you didn’t feel comfortable with that.”

You nodded, opening your mouth to say something, but Minho kept going.

“And they aren’t very nice people if they think I’m gonna leave you, or if they’re giving you conditions to hang out with them. But, I guess, it doesn’t matter because they’re still your friends and you’ll still be hurt by their words.”

You brought your hand around his stomach, leaning your head on his chest as you curled up into his body.

“Regardless of that, I will always be here to pick you up or take care of you or whatever it is you need. So never apologise again and never forget that I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Min, I—“

“—and, remind them that I’m the one that cooks and cleans this place, so if anything. I’m the boring housewife.”

You laughed loudly, your tears drying quickly as you giggled.

You leaned up, kissing his cheek as you watched your giggles mirrored in his eyes.

“Thank you,” you said, simply. “I couldn’t have picked a better housewife.”

“You really couldn’t,” he smirked at you, before he pressed his lips to yours softly.

“But,” he said as he pulled away, “there is a price for you getting me out of the comfort of our home at such an alarming hour.”

“Oh?” You smirked at him, knowing him long enough to tell he had some evil plan up his sleeve.

“I’m little spoon tonight,” he grinned.

“Excuse me!” You laughed, “I’m the one who’s been crying for hours—I should be little spoon.”

At that Minho wrapped his arms under your thighs, picking you up from the couch as he walked the pair of you to your bed. You protested the whole way there, your words swallowed up by your giggles, before Minho placed you down on the bed softly.

He didn’t even have a chance to get into position before you slotted your thighs in his, deciding neither of you would be either spoon tonight.

Your noses touched as you wrapped a hand around his torso, his arm sitting just below yours.

“I’ll allow it this time,” he mumbled, his eyes heavier as the pair of you settled into each other’s warmth, “but I will be little spoon.”

“Okay, whatever you say,” you nodded, kissing the small freckle on his nose.

It was too dark to see—but Minho was blushing.

“Thank you for tonight, Jagi,” you mumbled.

“I love you,” he said back. Simply.

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