#- and you come out of the jump with Threads

[writers-potion]

Hiiii

I don't know how to make the two love interest meet. I don't know if you understand without it actually being awkward or flat

Meet-Cute Ideas

Before I dive into meet-cute examples, let's look at some general tips for meet-cutes:

Four Different Kinds of Meet-Cutes

Pull/Pull Meet-Cutes where the two characters are instantly drawn toward one another. 

Push/Push Meet-Cutes where they are opposites that push away from each other at first. 

Push/Pull Meet-Cutes where one character falls for someone with no reciprocal interest (at first).  

Neutral/Nervous Meet-Cutes where neutrality and nervousness create a cute scenario for characters destined to fall in love. 

How to Avoid Cliche Meet-Cutes!

Subvert audience expectations by making them believe a cliche meet-cute is coming, and then adding a creative twist to make yours stand apart. 

Place meet-cutes in unique locations. 

Put characters in different scenarios and situations. 

Meet Cute Ideas

A is in the waiting room of a hospital while their grandmother goes through a routine procedure. B walks in and sits across from A, head in hands, obviously distraught — “I lost the baby,” B whispers.

You accidentally sprayed them with yogurt when you opened the lid the wrong way.

Studying at the same table in the library, you see they are pulling the same study resources as you.

They mistook your bowling ball for theirs in the shared ball return.

They caught you when you slipped on ice and nearly fell over.

Accidentally stepping on their heel in a crowded room.

You both do the side-to-side dance when you try to pass them in the grocery store aisle.

Humming a song and having them begin to hum with you without thinking.

Tripping while getting into your seat in the theater and spilling your popcorn on them.

You matched with them in an online chat roulette room.

Both of you wore the same ugly Christmas sweater to a party.

A likes to visit the local humane society to say hello to the animals. On this particularly normal day, something especially abnormal happens — one of the dogs speaks. “Help me get out of here, will ya?”

A finds a book of magic in their grandparents attic. A takes it to a Wiccan shop and hesitantly asks B, the shopkeeper, to take a look at it. B takes one look at it and in hushed tones asks, “Where did you get this?”

They cover the small amount of change you are short on for a purchase.

You both go to the counter, having the same type of coffee called for pick-up.

A is walking down the street and notices B, who is staring at a large graffiti mural, tears streaming silently down their face. The mural reads, “you are alive.”

They pull you out of the way from the busy bike path.

They see your ice cream drop to the ground and buy you a new one.

You see your favorite book on their desk during class and ask them about it afterwards.

You walk out of a dressing room asking if the outfit suits you, but it's not your friend waiting outside the room like you thought.

Almost spilling a drink because you met their eyes and got distracted thinking how cute they are.

Getting paired up in a line dance.

Happening to sit next to each other on a park bench, reading the same book.

Being paired up at a beginners ballroom dancing class.

Sharing an umbrella at a bus stop as it snows.

They get your attention and return your phone that fell out of your pocket.

You help catch their dog when the leash slips from their hand.

They ask you to pretend to be their date at a bar to prevent an ex from talking to them.

You help pull a loose thread off the back of their shirt.

Meeting their gaze after throwing a coin in a wishing fountain.

Sitting next to each other at a very boring meeting and bonding over your shared lack of attention.

You wear matching masks at a masquerade party.

Holding the elevator for them and getting off on the same floor.

Bumping into each other while trying to pass through a doorway.

They jump into your car breathless and tell you to keep driving.

You throw a snowball at a friend but miss and hit them instead.

The two of you wear costumes from the same fandom at a costume party.

You help a lost child find their parent together.

Walking into the incorrect bathroom and meeting eyes with them before quickly realizing the mistake.

You help catch their hat as it flies away in the wind.

The person sitting next to you on the train is wearing clothes that match your lucky colors from your fortune that morning in the paper.

They knock on your apartment door instead of your neighbor's.

You both reach for the last umbrella in the store on a rainy day.

You fix your hair in the reflection of a window to see them smiling at you through it.

You get scared by them in a corn maze and lash out and hit them, quickly followed by apologizes.

A spots B writhing on the ground in pain and rushes over to help them — but it turns out that B was actually just filming for a prank video. A gets so mad and upset that B is forced to calm them down as a crowd is beginning to form around them.

Texting the incorrect number but continuing the conversation.

A stops at the pub near their house to pick up some food on the way home (they make the best fries in the neighbourhood) when A receives a phone call – and some terrible news. A starts crying and B, the bartender, asks A what’s wrong. As A opens up to them, B gives A a drink on the house, and helps talk them through it.

You both reach for the final donut in the case at a bakery.

Getting paired up on an amusement park that requires even numbered riders.

#writing #creative writing #writers and poets #writers on tumblr #creative writers #helping writers #poets and writers #let's write #writeblr #resources for writers #writing problems #writing prompt #writing process #writing progress #writing practice #writing community #writing advice #writing inspiration #on writing #writing tips #writerscommunity #writer #writers of tumblr #writers block #writers community #writers life #writer things #writer on tumblr #writer stuff #writer problems

[jflemings]

— the better option

pairing: jessie fleming x reader

synopsis: you have to make a choice

warnings: SMUT, profanity, switch!jessie (for my own agenda)

a/n: this is… certainly something! (this is literally pure filth and i cannot stress that enough)

based off the lyrics “i’m gon’ love her better ‘cause her man ain’t shit”

you were in pure disbelief as you pulled up to jessie’s place.

you had been fighting with your now ex boyfriend for the third time this week. he had slammed his way into your apartment demanding that you choose between him and your best friend because he’s apparently ‘had enough’ of jessie coming between the two of you. his face was almost bright red when you laughed at him and told him, with all the confidence in the world, that your choice would always be jessie, that she was always going to be the better option.

so now here you were. after kicking him out and telling him to go fuck himself, you’d gotten straight into your car and drove to jessie’s.

you trudge up the stairs of the building to her front door before letting yourself in. she’s standing in her kitchen when you loudly announce yourself, the anger in your voice making her jump slightly.

“fucking prick” you seethe “asking me to choose between the two of you as if i’m not going to choose you everytime!”

jessie sips her glass of water and watches you pace in her kitchen amused. she hadn’t ever really liked him but kept her distain quiet because you had seemed to really like him, but deep down she knew that the two of you weren’t going to last.

the first problem was that he couldn’t make you cum.

the second was that he’s not her.

“and then, and then!” you flail about “he told me— to my face, jess— that he thinks i’m in love with you and that’s the reason i won’t suck his dick more than twice a week!”

the midfielder almost chokes on her drink at your words. you’d come to her after every fight ranting and raving about how much of an ass he was and how badly you needed to break it off, but never had you told her that.

“so?” she questions.

you stop and turn to her with your arms cross “so what?”

“so was he right?” jessie doesn’t know where this sudden burst of confidence has come from, nor has she thought about what is going to happen if you are in fact in love with her, but she doesn’t care. the unspoken tension has been building between the two of you for far too long and she needs a straight answer for her own sake.

the truth was that she’s been in love with you for a while now. it was a conclusion she came to slowly, but once she had, it was only a matter of time before she let her feelings spill out all over you.

she just needed to know.

you stare at her blankly and drop your arms by your side. your brows furrow “well– um” there’s a thick feeling of something in the air as jessie awaits your answer. her fingers twitch against her glass as she watches you.

“yeah, i mean, he was” you admit quietly.

the two of you stare at eachother for a moment before jessie slams her glass down on the counter top and walks straight up to you, taking your face in her hands and kissing you hard. you’re quick to react with hands around her neck and in her hair, walking the both of you backwards until you hit the counter.

your tongue runs along her lower lip as a way to ask for permission, which jessie readily grants, and you slide your tongue into her mouth. she groans as you pull at the roots of her hair and pulls off your mouth.

“i hated him” she admits into your lips “such a fucking asshole” jess slots her knee in between your legs and pushes up into your core. you grown into her mouth and let yourself settle on her knee, bracing yourself on the edge of the counter before jessie breaks away from you and lifts you up abruptly.

you yelp and settle on the cold laminate, wrapping your arms around jessie’s neck once again and threading your fingers through her curls. she groans at the sensation and immediately grips the sides of your thighs, pushing herself further into your lips.

she tugs on the hem of your shirt and you hastily take it off before tugging on hers, beginning to lift it up her torso and throw it behind you. your hands perch on her tones shoulders as you kiss her sloppily across her face before mouthing at her jaw and neck.

“are you sure” she asks breathlessly “because we can stop—”

“no” you say into her warm skin “unless you want to”

“no fucking way”

“bedroom?” you question her, to which she wordlessly picks you up and guides your legs around her waist.

she leads the both of you to her bedroom blindly, kicking open the door and walking to the end of her bed. she places you down and takes your chin between her forefinger and thumb, kissing you hard.

your own fingers hook in the waistband of your shorts before she quickly lets you stand and takes them off herself. the sight of your panties makes her cock her head and smirk.

“did you come here with a mission?” she teases

“can’t a girl just wear a matching set for the sake of it?”

jessie rolls her eyes and pushes you back down onto the bed before hastily planting her lips firmly on yours. one hand slides from your hips to your waist whilst the other snakes around the middle of your back. she pushes her hand past the underwire of your bra and cups your breast, kneading the flesh as her kisses get sloppier.

you toy with the waistband of her shorts impatiently, leaving her to break away from you momentarily so she can pull her shorts and underwear down her legs in one swift motion, tossing the clothing across the room. she’s quick to take off your own soaked panties and unclasp your bra, freeing your breasts of the black lace that covered them.

her lips wrap around one of your nipples whilst she rolls the other in between her thumb and forefinger. you feel her tongue circle your areolae teasingly a few times before nipping the perked bud shortly. you rub your thighs together in an attempt to gain some friction and groan lowly as the brunette releases your nipple. she smirks up at you and moves to the other one, paying it the same attention and repeating her actions.

“jessie” you say breathlessly to which she hums against you.

she lets go of your nipple with a pop and tilts her head “yes, pretty girl?”

you whine and push her shoulders “please”

“please?” she says mockingly “please what baby?”

you rub your thighs together frustratedly “please just fuck me already”

she smiles and allows you to push her down. her hands crawl down your stomach and over your legs as she begins to sit up, pulling your knees apart slowly.

“so wet already” she tuts as she runs a finger through your folds “all for me?”

“all for you”

the canadian hums again and crawls to the end of the bed before standing at the foot of it. she grabs your ankles and pulls you towards her causing you to yelp in surprise.

jessie gets on her knees and hooks your legs over her shoulders, wasting no time as she dives in. she opens her mouth over both your clit and entrance and gathers spit on her tongue before running the muscle over you sloppily. lewd, wet sounds fill the room as she laps you up.

your heels dig into her back and you arch off the mattress “jessie” you moan loudly at the feeling of her exploring the most intimate part of you. pulling away, she uses her fingers to spread your folds before smoothly sliding two fingers in at once

“oh my fucking god” you arch your back at the full feeling and jessie places a forearm on your abdomen to hold you to the bed. she curls her fingers presses into your sweet spot immediately before pulling out slightly and repeating her actions. she smirks at the way you’re already squirming under her. the tension that had been brewing was finally being released, and she was having the time of her fucking life.

her fingers piston out of you with ease and she angles her thumb awkwardly to merely put pressure on your puffy clit. her actions are rewarded with a high pitched moan and breathy half laugh as you white-knuckle the sheets under you.

you were singing her name to the heavens like it was a prayer, each moan, groan and breathless profanity getting jessie wetter than before.

“taking me so well” she praises whilst watching your face “can’t ever believe he’d let you go”

as your legs begin to shake and you clench around her fingers, jess watches in awe as you cum all over her fingers with a loud, breathless moan. “atta girl, there you go” she utters “you look so pretty coming all over my fingers. such a pretty girl”

your hips buck as you ride it out, your fists letting go of the sheets in favour for jessie’s free hand. you pull her up towards your lips, humming in contentment when her fingers dig into your hips as you kiss her hard. she swipes her tongue across your bottom lip and slots it into your mouth when you allow it, kissing you like she was a woman starved.

finding the strength, you get up into a sitting position and push jessie onto her back so you can straddle her waist. her hands slide up your waist and across your back as you kiss all over her jaw before nipping her earlobe. slowly, you lick behind her ear before latching you lips to the sensitive skin and sucking.

you nudge jessie’s jaw with your nose and suck down the column of her throat, nipping the quickly bruising marks. her hands hook your thighs just under your ass and begins to pull you up her body “want you on my face” she breathily says.

“what” you ask almost in disbelief.

“i want you to sit on my face” she repeats, still pulling you up her body. you shakily sit on your knees and place your hands on the headboard to give jessie enough room to slide under you. she does so eagerly, digging her fingers into your thighs and smiling cockily as you hover over her.

when you don’t put your weight on her immediately she does it for you, pulling your core onto her mouth and immediately getting to work. the canadian flattens her tongue against you and presses it to your hole before dragging it to your sensitive clit, closing her eyes in pleasure. she repeats the motion before dipping the tip of her tongue inside you teasingly.

your jaw goes slack as you look down at her and furrow your brows before you wriggle on her face to encourage her to do more. jessie grips your thighs and moans into your pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves through you. she doesn’t give you much more time to react before she pulls the hood of your clit back and begins to mercilessly suckle on the bundle of nerves.

your hips buck and you throw your head back in pure ecstasy. one of your hands fly to jessie’s hair and you tug at the roots, earning another low groan from the footballer. “fuck jess just like that! holy fuck”

the praise only makes jessie speed up her movements and she flicks her tongue over your clit with more pressure. her hands leave your thighs and find a new home on your boobs, immediately kneading them and running her thumbs over your perked nipples. your hands grab the back of her own just as coils of pleasure begin to tighten within you. your thighs flex against jessie’s head, trapping her in and allowing you to rock back and forth against her mouth quickly as you chase your high. your head hangs low on your neck, hair falling in your face as you look down at her.

she looks like she’s in heaven in between your legs. her hair is sprawled put over her pillows and her pupils are blown out wide, the normal warm brown that you’ve grown so accustomed to disappearing. the way she’s looking at you, paired with the fact that you can feel your juices all over her face, has your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“yes jessie, yes jessie, fuck” you babble in between moans, your fingers tightening around her hands “i’m gonna– shit, i’m gonna cum” you breathe out, screwing your eyes shut as white hot pleasure completely overcomes your body for the second time.

the canadian flattens her tongue as you ride her face and she’s gone from pinching and rolling your nipples to just kneading the plush flesh in between her palms. you slide off her mouth and catch your breath, continuing to keep her hands on your chest as you come down. your legs are like jelly when you practically fall off her face and onto your back next to her, your chest heaving as you process the two absolutely mind blowing orgasms jessie has just given you.

she props herself up on her elbow and swipes her thumb under her bottom lip and over her chin before putting it in her mouth, licking off any of your release that she didn’t get in her mouth. she leans over you with a cocky smirk “that was hot” she says before bringing your mouths together in a searing kiss, sliding one of her hands under your neck to bring you closer to her. you moan at the taste and smell of yourself on her and push her shoulders back so she’s laying on her back.

you sloppily kiss her, licking into her mouth before kissing down her neck and the valley of her breasts “treat me so good jess” you mumble against her hot skin “no one’s ever made me cum that hard”

she moans at the praise and threads her fingers through your roots softly as you kiss your way down her body. you settle at the end of the bed and slowly put her legs over your shoulders, kissing the inside of her thighs “especially him” you purr, dipping the tip of your middle finger inside her before circling her clit.

“fuck” jessie chokes out, gripping the roots of your hair tighter.

you continue to prod at her entrance teasingly whilst your non-dominant hand crawls it’s way back up her stomach. flattening your palm just above her belly button, you press your tongue to her clit firmly and watch her head slowly roll back on her neck.

one thing that you had learnt about jessie from being friends with her was that she would kill to be praised. she never asked for it, obviously, but everytime someone would tell her how well she was doing a determined fire lit in her eyes. you now know that jessie strived to be the best on the pitch and in the bedroom.

while your tongue works her swollen clit painfully slow your middle and ring finger spread her folds. “such a good girl getting me off like that jess” you praise, pressing your fingers against her “good girls get rewards y’know”

jessie does the best to hold eye contact with you as you slowly sink into her, pulling a delicious groan from her lips “you do know that good girls get rewards, don’t you?”

“mhm” she nods, moving one hand from your hair to cup your cheek, running her thumb over your cheekbone affectionately.

you gather some of her wetness on the tips of your fingers and circle her entrance once again before pushing your middle finger in, curling it as you go. you keep your eyes locked on jessie as she throws her head back and begins to pant. desperate for another reaction like that, you curl and uncurl your finger whilst thrusting in and out of her at a comfortable pace.

jessie’s chest rises and falls and her fingers tighten in your hair “more” she breathes out “please”

“more?” you hum and jessie nods. “i think you deserve that”

you punctuate your words with a second finger. you build your pace until she’s withering under you, her legs shaking and her is abdomen tensing. “c-close” loudly moans “don’t stop i’m so close”

“you gonna cum for me jessie?” you muse, laying your head on her thigh right next to her pussy. your breath fans over her clit that’s desperate for attention and when she gives you another quick nod, you cave.

you’re quick to make work of her clit, sucking and licking to your heart’s content. your eyes are trained on jessie’s face, watching her screw her eyes shut and drop her jaw as she mumbles profanities to no one in particular. she pulsates around your fingers and you can tell that she’s right of the edge just waiting to plummet.

you decide to give her a little push.

you pull off her clit “been so good for me jess. so, so good for me. c’mon baby”

the praise does exactly what you expect. her eyes roll to the back of her head and her hips twitch wildly as you slow your pace to help her ride it out. her loud moans are music to your ears as she comes undone all over you, her juices running down your fingers and beginning to pool in the palm of your hand.

you keep yourself still inside her for a moment as she pants heavily. she lifts her head just as you pull out of her slowly and bring your soaked fingers to your mouth to like them clean of her.

“oh fuck” she curses, throwing her head back against the soft pillow tiredly.

you can’t help but laugh and crawl back up the length of her body, smiling sweetly at her before peppering kisses all over her face. her freckled cheeks are still flushed and she’s got a layer of sweat coating her but you don’t think you’ve ever seen anything more beautiful.

“so how you feeling?” she asks you as if her legs aren’t still shaking minutely from the earth shattering orgasm you just gave her.

“like i’ve made the right choice”

#pegs writes #pegs woso #jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming smut #jessie fleming blurb #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fic #woso smut

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: happy regular season finale! i am first and foremost and islander girly so i’m beyond excited for the boys and ready to get the playoff craziness going 💙🧡 had to write a quick, fun, smutty fic in honor of the clinching! enjoy! ☺️

tw: unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (f receiving), thigh riding, wall sex, praise kink, dirty talk, terrible jokes, minimal editing

word count: 2.7k

summary: mat and the boys clinch a playoff berth in game 81, you celebrate with him when he gets home

It’s so late when Mat gets home from New Jersey, but the both of you are buzzing with the adrenaline of winning and clinching third in the Metro. You’d been too nervous to watch the game with any of the girls, spending the entire sixty minutes of game action jumping around and pacing the den.

Your text thread with Mat after the game was an incomprehensible string of emojis and exclamation points, too excited to form words.

When Mat’s little Find My Friends dot appears in your driveway, you yank the front door open and dance in place on the steps, waiting for him to get out of his car. You can see his huge smile even at a distance.

“Playoffs, baby!” You shout, jumping into Mat’s arms before he even has a chance to step into the house. His arms wrap automatically around your waist, your legs locking together at his lower back. The oversized shirt you’re wearing rides up around your hips, extra fabric bunching up in between your bodies. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Mat!”

You cup his face in your hands, his stubble scratching your palms, and press your mouth to his in a deep kiss. Mat grins under your lips, licking at the seam of them so he can gain entrance to your mouth. He holds you closer, carrying you as he steps inside and kicks the door shut behind him. The fabric of his suit jacket tickles at your bare thighs and you clench your muscles, practically grinding yourself over his stomach. The kiss makes you lightheaded, teeth and tongues and saliva making it messy.

“Fuck,” Mat breaks the kiss with a breathless gasp, hazel eyes blown dark from arousal. You can feel the hard heat of his erection under your ass and grin wickedly, pressing open mouthed kisses against the sharp edge of his jaw and down his neck. “Wish you came, you should’ve come! Playoffs!”

“Playoffs!” You repeat on a delighted laugh, pride swelling in your chest. It hasn’t been the easiest season, a rollercoaster of losses and wins and a new coach, injuries and quite possibly the world’s worst penalty kill, but you’re beyond proud of Mat and the boys and what they’ve accomplished. Your arms tighten around Mat’s neck and you squeeze him in a huge hug. “I am so, so beyond proud of you.”

Mat kisses the corner of your mouth, resting his forehead against yours. His hips twitch up into yours.

“I never had a doubt,” you whisper the praise, enjoying the way Mat’s grip tightens on your hips, the way his chest starts to rise and fall rapidly against yours. Your fingers card through his hair, tugging gently. “My Mat, fighting for every point. You guys accomplished something and now you’re going to have some fun.”

“Better get working on those fancy jackets,” Mat teases, walking forward until your back hits the wall. You grin, intimately familiar with the sly curve of his smirk and the twinkle in his eyes.

“Better get working on that playoff beard,” you tease back, gasping when Mat thrusts his hips up into yours, your panties immediately soaked from the hard press of his cock against your core. You whine and dig your nails into his scalp.

Mat nips at your jaw. “Yeah? You like the beard?” He keeps you pinned against the wall, his pelvis pressed into yours, hands gripping tightly to your ass.

You whine again, nodding. “Wanna feel it between my thighs again,” you gasp, his teeth sharp against your pulse point. “C’mon, Mat, fuck me against the wall.”

He laughs, the sound vibrating against your chest, and hikes his leg up so his thigh is pressed solidly against your cunt, thick muscle the prefect spot for you to rub your aching, throbbing clit against. Your head thunks back against the wall as you grind over him as best you can while being held up by one of Mat’s hands and his leg.

“There you go, baby,” Mat murmurs, using his other hand to make quick work of his belt buckle. The mental clinks together and you hear the zipper of his slacks slide down. “Soak my pants, come on. Look so pretty trying to make yourself come.”

The fabric of his pants and the thin, soaked cotton of your panties create a delicious friction against your clit. Your stomach tightens and your thighs tremble.

Mat bounces his leg a little and you gasp, grabbing onto his shoulders for support. He grins and you look down to see him fist his cock out of his boxer-briefs, the swollen tip of him leaking pre-cum all over his fingers. Your cunt clenches around nothing, a rush of arousal slicking down your thighs.

“Mat, please, oh my god,” you babble, desperate for him. You need something, anything, to relieve the pressure building between your legs.

“Be patient, Squeaks,” Mat smirks, his hand gliding easily up and down his length. His knuckles press against your lower stomach on each upstroke, pre-cum staining the hem of your shirt. “Had to wait eighty one games to clinch, you can wait a few more minutes.”

He hoists you a little higher on the wall, his forearm braced under your ass, both feet back on the floor, and you whimper at the loss of his thigh between your legs.

“Just wanna feel you,” you drop your head to the join of his neck and shoulder, brushing your lips over the exposed skin of his collarbone. You’re glad he ditched his tie, a whore for the sight of his collarbone through the unbuttoned oxford shirt.

“Reach down and hold your panties to the side,” Mat orders and you comply quickly, reaching a shaky hand down to pull the soaked fabric away from your cunt. The elastic bites into your skin and the tip of Mat’s cock is pressed against your damp skin. You jolt in his grip, a choked gasp working past your lips. “There we go,” he coos, “good girl.”

“Fuck,” you mutter, your entire body growing hot at his praise, the tip of Mat’s cock circling your clit and sending electric shocks down your spine. “Please, please, oh my god,” you babble, chanting his name until Mat sucks a mark against your neck, lining the head of his cock up at your soaked entrance.

His hand keeps a tight grip on the base of his cock and you’re barely ready when he pushes into you, feeding his cock into your cunt inch by inch. “There we go, come on, baby,” he mutters, breathless. “Can take all of me, my good girl. My best girl.”

You slide your fingers over to play with your clit, rubbing the sensitive bundle until arousal is dripping down Mat’s cock. He grunts in your ear, bottoming out, his hips locked against yours. The zipper on his slacks rubs painfully against your inner thighs, his belt buckle smacking against your hip.

“Oh my god,” you exhale harshly, clenching experimentally around Mat, savoring the ground out curse and groan that he can’t hold back. “Mat, baby, please move. Please,” you beg, panting just from the feeling of him filling you up and stretching you out. The burn of the stretch borders right on painful pleasure and you suck in a shaky breath.

He’s got both hands gripping your ass now, fingers digging bruises into your skin. “Gonna move, gotta move, so fucking tight for me,” Mat groans, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. There’s barely any room between your bodies, heat pouring off of the both of you. Mat pumps his hips, bucking them slowly at first, enough to get a whine clawing out of your throat, enough to get the coil of pleasure tightening in your stomach.

His hips slap against yours with his thrusts, short, sharp bursts that keep his cock bumping up against your g-spot. Your clit rubs against the hair at the base of his cock and tears roll down your cheeks from the stimulation.

You chant Mat’s name, murmuring broken praise for his game play, begging him to fuck you harder. “Wanna feel you come in me,” you wail, one hand grasping his shoulder and the other buried deep in his hair.

Mat bites little marks against your neck and collarbone, sliding your body up the wall with the force of his thrusts. “Gonna give you everything, baby, promise. Every drop, deserve it, earned it,” he says, barely coherent. “Love you, supported me all season, fuck, baby, come on my cock.”

He thrusts up into you and you clench around him, clit throbbing and cunt squeezing him until the coil snaps in your stomach, your orgasm hitting like a freight train. You moan wildly, too far gone to worry about how pathetically loud you’re being. Mat grunts in your ear, fingers squeezing your ass painfully. He keeps you on his cock, buried as deep into you as he can be, still trying to get deeper by pulling your ass closer.

Mat keeps thrusting up into you as you’re coming down from your orgasm, grunting against your collarbone, and you stroke his hair, encouraging him to come inside of you. “Come on, Mat, finish in me, please. Want you to fill me, so proud of you,” you’re barely aware of what you’re saying, but Mat seems to hear you and if isn’t long before he’s groaning into your skin, filling you with ropes of cum, keeping you held in place on his cock.

He shivers when he’s finished, cock softening inside of you, and you let one leg fall to the ground, keeping the other hooked over his hip. “Jesus,” you giggle, thighs shaking and core burning from helping to keep yourself upright. “Good thing you’re off tomorrow,” your smile, tired as it is, turns a little wicked, “because I really do not want to leave you or the bed.”

Mat rewards you with a sleepy smile and a sweet kiss to your forehead. You wince as his cock slips out of your cunt, smearing cum all over your inner thighs. “Tomorrow’s definitely a day for naked celebrations,” he laughs quietly. You can see that the adrenaline of the game and the sex is wearing off and his eyelids are starting to look heavy. He gives the underside of your thigh a gentle squeeze.

“Why don’t you go shower and change,” you suggest, smoothing your hands over the crumpled fabric of his suit jacket. “I’ll bring you up a snack and we can get some sleep.”

“Rather shower with you and eat you out,” Mat mumbles, letting your other leg fall to the floor but keeping you pinned to the wall. He rolls his hips lazily against your thigh. You can feel every inch of him and you’re not sure if he’s hardening again or if he’s still coming down from his orgasm. “We clinched, I should get to decide what we do.”

You burrow your face against his chest, the warmth of Mat’s body surrounding you while your arms snake around his waist, under his jacket. “If you’re this demanding when you clinch, I can’t wait to see how bossy you’ll be when you win,” you say cheekily.

Mat’s hand slips between your bodies to tuck his cock back into his pants and you press closer to him, trapping his hand between your stomach and his, making him laugh a little. He wiggles his fingers against your stomach playfully. “When we win the Cup,” he says, quietly but sincerely, “I’m going to fuck you until neither one of us can walk.”

Arousal pools low in your stomach again, your thighs clenching together. “Oh,” you murmur, “I’ll start manifesting from now then.”

Mat’s hand, still trapped between your bodies, works its way down over your stomach, fingertips close to where you want them. But not close enough.

You let out a soft little whine, poking your lower lip out in a pout that makes Mat laugh and duck his head to kiss you. He sucks your lower lip into his mouth and brushes his fingers even lower, your hips pushing up to try and slide his hand down.

You’re not quite tired anymore, frissions of lust sparking in your veins.

“You’re adorable,” he says, nipping gently at your lower lip. You wriggle against him, getting worked up again just from Mat’s proximity. The heel of his palm rubs against your lower stomach, the wide span of his hand stoking heat between your thighs.

“Imagine,” you breathe, “how adorable I could be on my back, moaning your name.”

A gasp punches out of your lungs when Mat’s fingers finally slide home, curling up into your cunt with a wet squelch, his cum leaking out of you and around his fingers into your panties. You clench around his fingers and let your head fall back against the wall while Mat’s fingers work you over.

“I love when you dirty talk me,” Mat props his free hand on the wall next you your head, his suit jacket opening and forming a curtain next to you. His head falls forward and he watches his hand disappear under the hem of your oversized shirt. “Pull your shirt up, baby, I want to see how you’re dripping down my hand.”

Your hand shakes a little as you lift the hem of your shirt up and hold it just at your belly button, Mat’s hand is down the front of your panties, stretching the fabric as he moves his wrist and fingers. Arousal drips down your thighs and your knees are threatening to give out as your second orgasm builds quickly. His name falls from your lips like a prayer and Mat’s pace never wavers, his gaze trained on the way his hand disappears between your legs.

With a twist of his wrist and a curl of his fingers, Mat presses the pads of his middle and ring fingers against your g-spot and the coil snaps again, your entire body going taut with the force of your orgasm and then boneless as you soak his hand and your thighs. Your knees buckle and Mat catches you, kissing your neck softly as he guides you through the aftershocks.

“You are aggressively good with those fingers,” you murmur, breathless.

“Gotta keep them warm for the playoffs,” he teases, pulling his hand away from you slowly. You wince at the sudden emptiness, cunt fluttering around nothing.

A smile plays at your lips and you fight it, trying to resist the urge to make the innuendo. A little puff of air escapes your nose as you try not to laugh and Mat pulls back, squinting at you, “what’s with the look?”

You shake your head, rolling your lips together to smother the worst of your laughter. “Nothing, I just…can we go upstairs so you can practice your stick handling?” The laugh you’d been holding back is finally released and you can’t stop your giggles.

Mat stares at you for a heartbeat, your laughter filling the silence, before his face cracks into a smile and his laughter joins yours. “Shit, you’re the worst,” he grins, shaking his head with an affectionate look on his face.

“I couldn’t help it!” You defend yourself, holding up your hands in surrender, your shirt falling back into place.

Still laughing, Mat leans in and kisses each of your palms. You curl your hands around his cheeks and squish them a little, forcing his lips into a pout for you to kiss. When you do, Mat pokes his tongue out, licking your upper lip.

“So….” you drag out the syllable, giggling and looking up at Mat with wide eyes, “is that a yes?”

Mat hoists you up into the air, hands under your thighs, and your squeal, legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. His smile is hungry and you know it’s not just for you, with the clinching fresh Mat’s mind is going a mile a minute thinking about the cup run.

“If you’re good, Squeaks,” Mat says, heading for the stairs, bouncing you a little in his grip, “I’ll let you do your own stick handling.”

You laugh until Mat makes you moan his name again.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x you #nhl fic

[casualartisanninja]

This was a long time coming.

So, first of all I’m sorry that this took me so long to make, but there was a lot of information to sift through. I’m not planning on coming back to Tumblr in any capacity beyond this but the truth needs to be out there. (And if you're curious about the profile picture/description/etc, I had to dress this blog up a bit so it didn't look like a bot and trigger any algorithms.)

Content warnings for this post: 

Heavily discusses kinks and has screenshots of fetish art

References grooming/pedophilia accusations

References transphobia/harassment accusations

This is going to be an EXTREMELY long post with lots of screenshots, so the rest is under a cut.

Edit: Here is the end of the post so you can read it all at once. https://www.tumblr.com/casualartisanninja/747977941832613888/loose-ends

The incident in Hobqueer’s server

I think a good place to start would be the spark that set off this whole chain reaction. 

I’m not sure how long I’d been in that server for when the NSFW in general incident happened. But one thing’s for sure - I didn’t start the conversation about NSFW topics. Like I mentioned on the Reddit post where someone had found me and started accusing me under my comment on the Janitor.AI post, I saw the people there discussing mpreg and oviposition. I looked at it and thought “wow the rules are a lot more lax than I initially thought!”. Yes, I know, looking back, that should’ve been a huge red flag. I also know that, looking back, I should never talk about NSFW in the general chat- even if everyone else is doing it. “If so-and-so jumped off a cliff” and all. I’m really sorry that I did that, and it was definitely a lesson for me.  But I really wasn’t thinking about that at the time. It wasn’t my intention to hurt anyone, and I especially wouldn’t have done it if I knew minors would be there. I know it wasn’t an 18+ server, and it was just a frankly idiotic move on my part. I just saw “Sniper pregnant” and pictures of the mercs with big bellies, and let my better judgment and reasoning get clouded.  However, the way that they’re portraying this incident is extremely intellectually dishonest. Gabriel failed to mention in his callout post that those minors were looking at and sharing fetish art of the mercs, leaving out most of the context for those. Thankfully one of my friends from Chipspeech (who I’ll leave anonymous) joined the server to check and see if the fetish art was still there. It was. Hobqueer and the moderators never deleted any of the discussion, and worst of all they left the fetish pictures up in full view of everybody. One person, who later admitted to being a minor in a dm, even gave a pretty graphic description of a tentacle hentai/mpreg comic. Be warned, this contains NSFW content. I blurred the names of anybody who isn't mentioned in this post.

I've run out of room for images, so I have to add the rest in another reblog. This will be a very long thread with a lot of images, so please bear with me.

#mavisposting #xxcherenkov-gremlinxx #allegations #accusations #explanation #debunking #tf2 fandom #chipspeech fandom

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

I really liked the brennan x witch reader idea, can you also write with xaden? Where he saves the reader?

warning: blood, injuries, knifes, fun stuff.

Save you

They didn’t get mixed up in situations that didn’t involve them. Especially not when they were flying back from the Riorson house. Not after unloading the shipment. But it was the pained screeching that had Xaden glancing at Garrick who had simply nodded before reaching for his daggers.

The forest was thick and lushes down below, cutting out the view of what was happening. No chance of knowing what was truly waiting down there. Not worth it Sgaeyl muttered but Xaden was already jumping off her. Using the covers of the trees as he inched closer. The place had a strange form of pulsing around it. Vibrating. A glow eliminated the gaps between the branches. And then that same pained cry split the silence and Xaden felt his pace picking up. “Xaden”, Garrick called out, the last thing they needed was to break their cover. But the sound gutted him. He could feel the agony.

And then the clearance came into view. Garrick cursed from behind. This was the last thing on his mind. Not that he knew much of what he was seeing. A white circle. A humming of energy. A red thin thread of blood being dragged from the cuts made deep in your hands. Don’t you dare but Sgaeyl doesn’t get to finish before Xaden is running into an open field. His shadows trying to seep through the glow. Hitting against it with their full force.

That’s when your eyes meet his too. Tired. Xaden is not even sure how you’re standing. His hands come in touch with the glowing light but it shoves him away. Burning his skin. He hisses. “We need to break this, get her out of here”, Xaden shouts , looking over his shoulder. “How do you imagine we do that?”, Garrick huffs rounding the sacrifice stones.

But then Xaden catches your eyes, glancing at his dagger. He quickly pulls it out lifting it higher. Your eyes stay on it before dropping down to your hands. His gut drops for yet another time tonight. But he’s clenching his jaw, tightening, stepping back… “Xaden, what are you…”, Garrick barely lifts his hand before the blade flies through the air. Cutting through the bubble and sinking deep into your flesh. The scream that slips through your lips makes Xaden nearly turn around to vomit. But he’s stumbling forward, knees hitting the stone, as he presses his palm deeper into your flesh.

“I’m sorry”, he mutters, watching as your body twitches. Glassy eyes watching him. “Don’t pull it out”, Garrick cuts in, reaching out to wrap a strap of his leather around the dagger. Securing it in place. The bleeding. You would probably bleed out… “Come on we need to go. Get her to Colonel”, Garrick is already glancing at the sky. Xaden feels fuzzy. He doesn’t usually care. He’s seen worse shit. Worse torture. But there is something about you. The way your ashy skin and that drained gaze cut right through him. He scoops you up, mindful of your arm. Hissing at the feeling of your ice-cold skin pressing against his warmth. He catches you glancing at him. Lips trembling in anticipation of something that might slip past him. But then your body sags, head lulling back and a part of him ignites.

You’re not sure what parts of your mind were made up and what was actually real. There are muffled voices. Many. Then just a couple. Then just one. The place your body is placed in feels warm. Had they already brought you out for burning? That thought alone makes your body seize and whoever is there on the other side places a soft cold towel on your head. A hand runs up and down your upper arm. Fingers brushing away the hair from your face. A low shushing. You want to open your eyes. Want to see but the eyelids are too heavy. And darkness claims your body once more.

Xaden runs a hand over a slight stubble that he had let on. He’s been flying back and forth every day. “You can’t brood her into waking up”, Brennon’s voice fills the room, making Xaden snap his head to the side. They had found even more of your kind. Witches. Hunted and used. They had missed this. Missed that someone was using innocent people. “None of this is your fault”, Brennon says, even when both of their eyes fall to the bandaged hand, “You saved her with that and the wound will not scar. I will make sure of that”. He clasps Xaden’s shoulders right as a deep inhale fills the room. Xaden leaps out of his chair.

Your head falls back to the pillow but your eyes stay open, scanning the place. “Hey”, he breathes barely audibly, afraid to scare you even more. Your gaze only softens at the sight of him, your whole body easing. “You’re safe, no one will harm you here”, he continues, “I’m sorry for the knife”. But you shake your head. Silence falls.

“Yn”, you mutter, not dropping the gaze. It takes a moment for Xaden to realize that you have rasped out your name before he presses his palm to his chest, “Xaden”. You nod. He stares. He just stands there and stares because even now. Even all pale and weak you strike him as the most beautiful female he had ever seen. He quickly clears his throat, “I should go, let you rest. There will be people who will…”, “Stay”, you mutter back. A weak hand reaches out to him and his hand reaches back on its own. “If you can… stay”, you breathe out and Xaden finds himself nodding as he reaches for the chair, pulling it closer and taking your much smaller palm into his.

#xaden riorson #xaden x reader #fourth wing xaden #xaden riorson x reader #xaden riorson imagine #xaden riorson x oc #fourth wing imagine #fourth wing x reader #iron flame x reader #iron flame imagine

[b0xerdancer-writes]

The Rockrose and the Thistle

Tamlin x Reader

Summary: After Feyre had destroyed Tamlin's life he had just started to piece his life back together when he discovers his mate, sadly the mother has a sick sense of humor for Tamlin.

Prompt: Mates/Flower Language

Warnings: Angst, graphic violence, death, war, not a happy ending at all.

Word Count: 3,342

Notes: Short but its angst and I made myself cry thinking about this one so here we go!

Based off the song of the same name by The Amazing Devil. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rockrose, a low maintenance plant that is drought tolerant and can survive with minimal attention; they are seen as symbols of endurance, strength, and determination.

Thistle, a sharp flowering plant that is characterized by the prickles that cover its exterior, sometimes seen as terrible weeds but particularly amazing for pollinators; they are seen as symbols of protection, strength, devotion, bravery, determination, and victory.

+

Tamlin strolled through his garden, new additions had been added as he tried to rebuild the manor for her. His darling mate. A dull ache throbbed in his chest, there had been no good days since she had been injured in the war, before Hybern he had just begun to put himself back together after Feyre’s departure. 

He had met her, a lesser fae that was half forest nymph, in one of the villages close to Rosehall; he had rode out to see what damage had been done and what repairs needed to be made around his court, when he had seen her kneeling beside a crying child offering him a dandelion.

“Make a wish Percius, don’t say it out loud, hold it in your heart and wish upon the flower.”  She spoke softly.

The boy's sobs slowly turned to siffles as he nodded to what she said and blew the small white specks of dandelion to the wind.  She rubbed his back and helped him to his feet, the child thanked her before he ran off.

The white mare made a noise as he entered the village that drew the female’s attention, her eyes had struck his soul and he clutched at his chest; a golden thread attached the two and her own eyes widened. 

He jumped from his horse, the white mare following obediently behind him. “Its a pleasure to meet you my lady, I’m Tamlin. I come to your village to aide in any recovery efforts you may need. It would be a pleasure to have you escort me around so I may get to know my mate.” 

“A pleasure to meet you my lord. Your recovery efforts are not needed thankfully. We have a good relationship with the dryads and nymphs in this area, they helped us with rebuilding.”  She introduced herself with a pleasant smile. “However, if you still wish to get to know me, I can give you a tour.” 

“It would be a pleasure, my lady.” He bowed. 

He had toured the village, impressed by the unique style and structure the nymphs and dryads had weaved together with the ruins of the older building.

“If you don't need to move on yet my lord, would you be inclined to join me and my family for dinner tonight?” She offered.

“I would like that, my lady.” Tamlin responded. 

“There is something about my family you should know before we head to the house, my father is a forest nymph. I'm half nymph and so are my little brothers.” She chirped anxiously.

“How fascinating, though I think nothing of it.” Tamlin replied.

“My father can come off as a bit protective.” She noted.

“As any good male should be over his family.” Tamlin smiled.

“Okay. I think that is all I have to warn against in my family.” She huffed dramatically and Tamlin snorted in amusement. 

“Then let us join your family for dinner.” Tamlin mused.

She led him through the dirt streets to her family’s home, a small farm on the outskirts; she led the white mare into the barn and removed her tack before letting her back into the field, she had seen the fern green hair of one of her younger brothers dart into the house and sighed.

“We have company, we better head inside now my lord.” She mumbled, enjoying her time alone with the pleasant male. 

He smiled and cupped her face gently in one hand. “Don’t let the boys bother you darling, they are young and inquisitive.” 

She nuzzled against his hand before leading him inside, the two small boys peaked from behind the counter before scrambling to hide in their mothers skirts.

“Welcome home dear, the boys told me you have brought a guest.” The female, heavily pregnant, looked up from the pot on the stove.

His mate cleared her throat ready to introduce him and their newly formed relationship, she was soft, gentle, and everything she was not. “Yes mother, sorry I did not inform you sooner. This is Tamlin, our high lord and my mate. I invited him to get to know you all.” 

Her mother looked up quickly, excitement evident in her eyes. “Mate? Oh that's wonderful love! It's a pleasure to have you dine with us tonight! My husband Siriden will be home soon, he went to help the Hawkley family with some repairs to their animals coop. My name is Renata, the twin boys are Caius and Kyren. Please make yourself at home my lord.” She ushered him to sit, the multi-green nymph eyes of the boys stared around the edge of the cabinet.

“Please lady Renata, Tamlin is fine.” He smiled sitting in the carved wooden chair Renata had pulled out for him.

“Please my lord, Renata is fine.” She blushed and patted his back.

The second Tamlin was sitting, the boys stared him down from around the edge of the counter. Tamlin flashed them a fanged smile and they came running over, surrounding him and asking question after question about what he did as a lord, how cool it was to fight naga, his beast form, any and all things little boys could think of asking someone like Tamlin. His mate however joined her mother in the kitchen helping her set the table and plate the food. 

Siriden pushed the door open and the boy's attention jumped from Tamlin to their father and they swarmed him.  “Caius! Kyren! My boys! How good it is to see you.” 

The male's nymph blood was evident, his skin tanned and faded into dark green at his knees and elbows; his eyes the same as the boys at his knees, a dark green sclera and a leafy color iris.  Dark fern green hair mixed with vines and leaves was pulled half up in small braids. Tamlin could understand Renata’s appeal to the male.

Tamlin watched as his mate dried her hands on a cloth and moved towards her father, taking his coat from him. “Welcome back father, I hope everything went smoothly at the Hawkley's farm. We have a guest with us this evening.”

“Thank you dove, everything went smoothly besides having to herd the hens back up.” The male's eyes moved from his daughter to Tamlin. “My lord! Apologies for not greeting you sooner, it is an honor for you to join us but may I ask why?”

Renata lit up and came to stand behind Tamlin, her hands resting on his shoulders. “The High Lord is our daughter's mate.” 

Siriden’s eyes widened. “Really! Well I must know how this revelation came about! I'd love to hear the story over dinner.” He took his seat at the head of the table, the boys to his left.

“It's nothing that exciting sir, as I’m sure you're aware, I've been making efforts in restoring the court.” Tamlin explained, “I was riding into town and she was knelt down by a small boy who was crying, she offered him a dandelion to wish away his worries. It reminded me of something similar my brothers would do when I was a babe. Then the next thing I know is the Golden thread connecting me to her. She offered to introduce me to everyone here after showing me around the village.”

“Dryads and nymphs are tight family groups, we normally stay with our parents till we marry; as a way to help raise our siblings since numbers within a family can become so large for us, we normally are all incredibly close till we die.” Siriden chimed, “it's why she wished to introduce us so early.”

Tamlin nodded, Renata brought Siriden and the boys’ plates, his mate brought him his before sitting beside him. The evening was great, Tamlin had laughed so hard tears had found their way into his eyes and his ribs were sore; it had been so long, he thought, since he had laughed like this. 

The next day he brought her and her family up to the estate. The boys ran around the garden all afternoon, while he discussed courtship and marriage with her father. He led her around the halls on a tour like she had with her village and then they had dinner in the grand dining room, they joked and laughed till the boys collapsed on the couch; Tamlin hada carriage take them back to the village, he had helped her in and kissed her hand before closing the carriage door.

+

The two were married within the month and the bond had been consummated the night they were wed. He had worn a dark emerald green tunic and riding pants with his knee high boots, crown, and tabard. She had worn a sleek lace dress traditional in Nymph and Dryad communities, it was off white, the lace made images of flowers and nature, it was off her shoulders  and Tamlin couldn't imagine her in anything better.

She supported him when he explained his plan with Hybern, he needed the intel and he needed her to play along as the oblivious doting wife but be present amongst the dryads, nymphs, wraiths, and other elementals incase he needed them to join his army in the war. And play the doting wife she did, Hybern never even suspected a thing until the night Tamlin helped Feyre and her sister escape his camp; she had been ‘kidnapped’ by Rhys and Feyre, when really she was rallying the forest folk and the ancient fae that were rumored to exist in the woods around them. When Tamlin had defected she tucked herself right into his side, a deadly glint in her eyes. Feyre would admit the female had scared her when she had first seen that glint and was just happy that the glint wasn’t pointed at her, even though she definitely deserved it.

One thing no one had expected was the fae bane antidote barely working for the elementals. Something Hybern had put in the bane had the potential for fatality if an elemental came into contact with it, but thanks to the antidote it kept them from immediately dying but immediate action needed to be taken to save the fae. In the throws of battle several elementals had fallen before they realized what was happening; they had lost approximately 70 nymphs, dryads, wraiths, and other variants of elementals. There had been a meeting with the healers to determine why the elementals had taken such a massive loss in comparison to the others that had been hit with the bane, at least the cause had been evident due to the pronounced purple veins. Tamlin had rocked her to sleep that night as she wept, she had felt like she let her people down.

The next fight had better results, an emergency squadron had been implemented with every battalion; if any fae went down it would be treated as an emergency and if it was an elemental triple antidote concoctions had been implemented until they could get them to the med tent. The plan had been working, Tamlin and his wife had been thrilled, his battalion had consisted of him, his mate, her father, 6 members of the spring court guard, and 4 other elementals. Their squadron had been on foot when they were ambushed, a barrage of arrows had come their way, the familiar purple glow of bane on the tips of the arrow heads. 

Her father had been in a close combat fight with one of Hybern’s soldiers, she had seen the first arrow of the barrage before the rest had; she had howled out the warning for the barrage and rushed towards her father, he had cut down the soldier and turned to see her just as she pushed him out of the arrows path.

Tamlin felt his world shatter as his mate’s scream echoed in his ears. His blood roared as he ran to cover her collapsed body as the arrows buried themselves into his own back. Once all arrows  had hit the ground she had been rushed to the med tent and he had all of the arrows pulled from his back, then his rampage had begun; he had ripped a wound through Hybern’s wall of soldiers so he could get back to her, back to his wife.

Unfortunately, the healers in his battalion were ill equipped, they were short two vials of antidote. They had been able to inject her with one additional vial of antidote, the bane had found its way far enough into her bloodstream before they made it into the med-tent and injected another dosage into her that it had caused permanent damage. When Tamlin pushed through the privacy curtain his heart broke further as he fully felt her pain through the bond; he had wanted to scream and break down for her since she couldn’t, they had to restrain and gag her as the bane burned its way through her body.  

The healers had to pull Tamlin from the room as her body began to convulse in reaction to the bane in her blood. Siriden had comforted the male as they waited for news of the female’s wellbeing. Eventually, a nurse came out to the awaiting males, a sad look in her eyes. 

“She’s pulled through, unfortunately the bane was in her system strong enough and long enough to permanently affect her.” The female sighed. “We don’t know how it will affect her, she's asleep right now.”

Both males had thanked her and slipped into the room, one on each side to hold her hands and ask the mother for help. A silent look between them of complete agony, the atmosphere of the room was an embodiment of sorrow itself and the on edge tension was palpable to anyone who walked by.

+

Tamlin had hoped she would pull through, but as he stood in the garden arranging a bouquet for the vase of her room. She had never fully recovered, the bane burned her veins so badly she had been bound to the bed of her room in agony. Every move she made, even breathing hurt her, he had to step out after her screaming and begging had become too much for him, the dull throb of her pain in his chest numbed every day as he had gotten used to it; he truly hated what he was doing, hoping if he made her endure it eventually light would show at the end of the tunnel and they could begin working on getting her back to her feet. 

The flowers in his hand echoed back at him as tears began to well in his eyes, Rockrose, a promise of endurance and his determination to see her through this; and thistle, a promise of his protection over her and his devotion to her.

He wiped the tears from his eyes and he tried to push her begging to let her go from his mind. She had given up, he knew all the fight she had was gone,  but he just couldn’t let her go yet. He had lost one love, he couldn’t lose his mate too. He sighed and slipped back inside, he had instructed a healer to slip her some milk of the poppy to get her to sleep; she slept softly almost like she wasn't in pain at all but the purple of her veins was a brutal reminder of her waking agony.  Tamlin set the combination of flowers into the vase, pressing a kiss to her forehead he pulled the thin quilt over her body. 

He had kissed her goodnight, opened her window to let the soft breeze into the room, and disappeared into their old bedroom. Tamlin tossed and turned every night now that her side was cold and barren, the blanket was never messed up now and it was agony to him. In the middle of the night he had been awoken to the screams of his love, he let the nurses go every night so he slipped back down the hall and into her room. She was sitting up and sobbing, the blankets pulled back and her legs dangling from the side of the bed; Tamlin moved a few steps into the room and tried to comfort her but she shoved him away.

“I can’t do this anymore Tamlin.” She sobbed.

“Love please, you can make it through this.” He begged.

“It's been a year Tam, I should have recovered from this already if I was. The bane should have been deadly, Tamlin let me go please.” She broke down.

“We can talk about this in the morning, love.” Tam soothed trying to coax her back into bed.

“There won't be an in the morning Tam, I’m done fighting through this. That's why I’m asking you to let me go now.” She sobbed and sniffled.

“Sure there will be love. It’s just the fever and delirium speaking.” He crooned and picked up the small pitcher of poppy milk and poured it into the serving glass.

She drank it with a sigh. “Okay Tam.”

TAm kissed her head, and tucked her back in; when he got back to his room he broke down into a sob, her asking him to let her go was the final straw for him. He knew the day would come when every ounce of fight left her but he would give her his fight, he'd guide her through this. Eventually he had cried himself to sleep only to be woken by a panicked nurse. A small female, whose face had paled; an ache in his chest was the answer to his question before he had even asked it.

“Prepare her body then, I’ll be there to see her as soon as I get dressed.” He had taken a sharp breath, tears biting at his eyes. 

The female had nodded quickly and ran from the room, Tamlin dragged himself from bed slowly; he pulled the only black tunic from his closet and threw his tabard across his chest. He leaned on the door frame, and tried to breathe through the pain in his chest; he slipped from the room and out of Rosehall, down to the priestesses temple. His lover laid on a stone slab, he bit his tongue as all of the females gave him sympathetic looks. 

“Decorate her body in thistle and rose rock please.” Tamlin had to fight the sobs from his throat.

“Weeds? My lord I-” a female had interrupted.

 Tamlin roared. “I said I. Want. Her. Body. Decorated. In Roserock. And Thistle. They are symbols of strength and protection.” 

The females squeaked and the one who had called them weeds apologized profusely,  the rest of the females began work immediately. Tamlin pressed one last kiss to her forehead before he stepped back through the grand doors of Rosehall. At a loss for words Tamlin climbed the steps to the room she had occupied since her return from Hybern.

The window he had opened for her the night before was still open, the sheer curtains blowing in the wind, the room was sterile and medical except for the vase that sat on the end table; full of the rockrose and thistle he handpicked yesterday, the wind blew across the vase and the flowers. A whistle echoed through the room as he watched the flowers shift in the wind. The whistle sounded so much like that of the arrows that ruined their lives, he couldn’t fight the sobs any longer. He sat on the floor and let the sobs rack over his body as he thought back on every moment he had gotten to share with his darling little mate, the rockrose to his prickly thistle. Taglist:@tamlinweek

#acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #tamlin x reader #tamlin acotar #tamlin #tamlin week

[redwinterroses]

Oh gosh I already have Such Thoughts around Loremaster Pix and I haven't even checked the tag to see what other people are saying yet but hang on gotta braindump--

His whole intro was about the old gods and titans dying and creating this world, their blood and bones becoming the civilizations that followed, which in turn fell and left their ruins to be the foundations of empires to follow. (Story nerd bit: so that means, I think, we are at least in the "third age" of this world: the gods and titans, then the ancients, and now the empires.)

But how does he know these things, unless he was there?

What if Pix is, as he said he wants to be, less a character and more a... a force, if you will. He is the past. He's a forgotten titan, a diminished god, a spirit of time and memory. A lorekeeper, a storyteller, a secret-holder... More and yet less than an emperor, less and yet more than a player in the tale. Maybe he doesn't remember it all -- diminishing can be hard on an immortal. But he remembers enough, enough to tell the story of the world and lead the current inhabitants to uncover the histories of their own lands.

And if I maybe headcanon that the Ancients were Empires s1, and this keeper of ancient stories could be a certain lost and forgotten desert king who vanished when his diminished immortality came sparking to hesitant life... you can't stop me.

#empires s2 #empires smp #empires spoilers #pixlriffs #current headcanon until canon contradicts me: #the Copper King was so intrigued by the concepts of death and rebirth because he was a diminished immortal who didn't remember his own past #the encounters with Xornoth and Aeor and the rest triggered lost memories and he became overwhelmed by the knowledge #fleeing into the desert he's spent the last few centuries slowly coming to grips with his own immortality and the ragged scraps of memories #and now new empires have begun to rise and he looks at them with both the distant fascination of an immortal #someone who has seen these things rise and fall before and will again #and also with the eerie sense that he's seen these SPECIFIC empires #in another time and another guise #the familiarity amongst the strange has drawn him out of his solitude and he rejoins the world of mortals #this time quietly aware that he is Not One Of Them... and yet he might be when he allows himself to pretend #a way for me to keep my copper king and make the storyline one big cohesive thread? yes. shush. you can't take this from me #well. pix can but I'm a fangirl and we thrive on jumping the hoops of Making It Work lol #the empire of the past

[satoruxx]

pairing: toji fushiguro x reader | 1.2k words summary: boyfriend!toji again, fluff, soft!toji, grumpy x sunshine, that obligatory sick fic, bickering, affectionate scolding, pet names, this is very self-indulgent !! rheya's note: had this written for so long and never posted it oops !! but yeah resident grump worrying over his fav what's new?

toji knows something is off as soon as he steps into his apartment. he comes to the conclusion almost immediately, because he isn’t greeted like he normally is when he comes home.

normally, he’ll push the door open and you’ll trip over yourself as you stand from the couch, a giddy smile on your face as you jump into his arms. and being the asshole that he is, toji never hesitates to grumble about it, clicking his tongue as he says things along the lines of “dammit kid one day i won’t catch you” or “jeez baby let me get in the house” or something similar. but despite all that his hands will still be attached to you, rubbing your back as he smothers an amused chuckle against your hair.

but not today. today he’s greeted by quiet and emptiness—a clear lack of you. he had opened the door ready to catch you in his arms, but all he can do is raise a brow at the silence. as much as he normally complains about it, this absence makes his gut churn. he pushes all that aside, more concerned than anything as he drops his jacket onto the couch and heads for the bedroom.

toji is nothing if not observant, paranoid as his eyes dart from corner to corner of the small apartment. it’s ingrained into him—this fear that his past will come back to haunt him and take you away in the most brutal way imaginable. but he tries to ignore that, continuing to head down the hall until he pushes the bedroom door open.

his shoulders drop in relief, seeing you laying on your stomach, face buried in the pillows, and he lets out a sigh. he sees you shift a little, signaling that you’re awake, so he takes a few steps forward.

toji climbs onto the bed and lays down next to you, dropping a heavy arm over your back. “what’s wrong?”

“don’t feel good,” you answer back. toji’s brows furrow, and he manages to push his free palm against your forehead. heat pulses against his skin, and his frown deepens.

“the fuck did you do to yourself?” he asks, not unkindly but still stern—you can only glare at him hazily.

“it’s not my fault!”

“uh huh,” toji rolls his eyes, threading his fingers through your sweaty hair and pushing it back from your forehead. “so me telling you to put some layers on when you go out in the cold has nothing to do with this?”

you huff, face heating under his pointed stare, and all you can do is shove his hand away, before pathetically burying your face into the sheets again. “shut up.”

“don’t be a brat.” toji lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head indulgently. “it’s your fault for not listening to me.”

“if you’re just gonna lecture me, go away,” you complain, cheek pressed into the pillow. toji snorts, though his hand rubs what you assume to be soothing circles on your back.

“who’s gonna make sure your dumbass doesn’t get into more trouble?”

another indignant huff, and toji only chuckles. “alright c’mon kid. let’s get you in better shape, yeah?” he grunts, looping his arm around your waist and tugging you up. you immediately protest, whining out a plethora of curses attached to his name, and he rolls his eyes. “okay, alright shut up.”

he maneuvers your body into sitting position, leaning you up against the pillows and pulling the blankets up with furrowed brows—meticulous in a way that he is only with very few things.

“you eat anything today?” he asks, still fussing over the blankets, and you gulp quietly. one look and toji’s frown grows deeper. “kid.” the word comes out stressed, like a scolding, and you wince.

“i didn’t feel like it,” you groan, trying not to wilt under his pointed glare.

“don’t care,” he huffs. “your body needs energy, stupid.”

“rude,” you mutter, crossing your arms and toji rolls his eyes.

“whine all you want—“ he stands up, rolling his neck until he hears a satisfying crack. “—still gonna make you eat something. soup okay?”

you don’t want to admit how tempting it sounds, so with an unrelenting amount of stubbornness you glare at him. “fine.”

his lips quirk upward into a smug little grin, and you try to refrain from throwing something at him. he pats your leg. “alright.”

he heads into the kitchen, leaving you to your thoughts. you hear the occasional sounds of cooking and utensils and before long, the comforting smell of soup wafts through the apartment. you try not to show toji how your mouth is watering when he walks back in, a bowl in his palm.

“here,” he grunts, propping a knee onto the bed that dips under his weight. “eat up, doll.”

you sigh, already hating the feeling of the cool sheets when you move even slightly to reach for it.

“you gonna make me spoon feed you?” toji’s brow quirks—smug, and obviously amused.

“i can do it myself thank you—” you try to take the bowl from him with a glare but he raises it out of your reach and clicks his tongue.

“will y’just let me do this one thing for you, jeez,” he complains, glaring down his nose at you.

you cross your arms with a huff, tone going slightly apologetic. “i feel bad—”

“why the fuck do you feel bad?” he asks sharply, eyes narrowed and confused and caught off guard like you’ve said the most out of pocket thing.

“because—” you stress, throwing your hands up miserably. “you were out on these crazy missions—probably tired as hell. and instead of relaxing you have to come home and take care of me because i was too stupid to look after myself.”

toji groans, putting the bowl on the bedside table before sitting on the bed completely. “kid,” he says emphatically, taking your face in his palms firmly. “how many times do i need to tell you this? i don’t mind lookin’ out for you.”

“yeah but—”

“no shut up,” he snaps, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips. “you always worry about bothering me or inconveniencing me or some other crap like that. i’m telling you—don’t.”

his thumbs gently press into the apples of your cheeks, and your lips part under his pointed gaze.

“i like doin’ shit for you, okay? ‘n takin’ care of you when you’re sick? that’s nothing.” his lips tug into a lopsided smirk. “who else is gonna look out for you anyway?”

you purse your lips, throat going tight because toji rarely talks like this—so honestly open. and though you’re sure that many people out there would say he’s harsh and mean and not good for you, it’s things like this that prove how wrong they are.

“what’s wrong? did i break your brain?” toji asks, reaching up to knock his knuckle against your head, and you huff out a laugh, pushing his arm away.

“shut up,” you mutter, falling into his chest heavily. he chuckles, low and throaty as he pats your back.

“you up for eating now?” you can feel him reaching for the bowl, and you smile against him, pressing your face further into his warmth because toji will always be nothing but safe for you.

“in a minute,” you answer, looping your arms around his waist. he sighs, shaking his head but he doesn’t say anything else.

but you think you can feel him smile against your hair as he drops a chaste kiss to your forehead—you don’t tell him that though.

#jjk x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji x reader #zenin toji x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #fushiguro toji x reader #toji headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fluff #toji fluff #toji fushiguro #toji zenin x reader #toji zenin x you #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #toji drabbles #jjk headcanons

[inkbybambi]

bodyguard!simon riley who takes a bullet for you —

words: 2.9k rating: e warnings: nightmares, guns/shooting, gunshot wound, hospitals, smut, creampie, cunnilingus, mentions of threats against reader, threat against reader, lowercase writing — please let me know if i missed any! notes: 18+ content, minors dni. warnings have been provided.

he's been assigned to you for two-ish years now. you weren't thrilled at first, and neither was he — but he didn't make it as obvious as you did.

"i don't need a babysitter," you had damn-near hissed when he was introduced.

"i wasn't hired to be one," he counters coolly, which only serves to irritate you further.

actively ignoring his presence — as much as you could when your company moved him into your apartment — even though you begrudgingly made room in the counters and fridge for his things, even going as far as investing into a better kettle so he could make his tea and clearing out an entire cabinet for all his tea, sugar, and steeper.

he trails you quietly as he was hired to; keeping close enough to always have you in his sights but far enough away that people wouldn't be able to clock his association to you — or so he thought.

six months into his contract with you — an unknown amount of time left, as price never answered and soon he stopped asking — he wakes in the middle of the night from a scream he never thought would come from you.

he rushes into your bedroom, gun in hand with his finger resting on the side and not the trigger. the front door is locked as he had left it, windows unbroken. he almost thinks he might've associated it with one of his own nightmares, until he sees you.

curled in on yourself, face tucked into your knees, fingers threaded through your hair as you struggle to breathe properly, hiccups and sobs breaking between your stuttered breaths.

he knocks gently on your door, not wanting to startle you. you jump just a little, regardless, but lift your head to look at him.

"'m sorry," you mumble, voice rough, "i didn't mean to wake you."

and you hadn't. you thought you were done with these awful nightmares, the ones gnawing at the edges of your mind during the day.

"'s'alright," he replies, tucking the gun into the waistband of his sleep shorts, walking carefully towards your bed. "you okay?"

the look he receives damn near breaks his heart.

he learns, that night, that an attempt had been made on your life before. more than once.

they never got close enough to do any harm, you say, but then swallow thickly and clutch your bicep where simon sees a scar that he never took notice of previously. they didn't get close enough to do anything worse, you amend, chancing a look at him.

"i had security then, too," you explain, wiping your tears with your hand, playing with the blanket. "it didn't change anything."

something shifts after that.

he starts cooking for you — with you, when there's time — and you bring him a cup of tea each morning. the bookshelf in the living room, previously only half-filled, collects simon's books. you give him the login to all your streaming services, and ignore the pointed look he gives you when he sees some trashy reality tv show in your "continue to watch" queue.

he doesn't complain much when he stands behind you during an episode, arms crossed, asking a question here and there. you sigh, exasperated at having to explain everything, telling him to sit down and you start the series from the beginning.

nine months into his contract, your nightmares become more frequent, and worse. you don't understand why. you were getting better, you cry in simon's arms after a particularly rough night.

"sometimes these things happen," he tells you softly, gently carding his fingers through your hair, tucking you under his chin.

"make them stop, please," you beg, even though you know he can't. he wishes he could.

he starts sleeping in your bed.

he's so warm, your cheek pressed into his chest, feeling more secure than you have in months when the weight of his thick, tattooed arm slings around your waist. he presses a kiss to your forehead at night, and you burrow into his side.

he starts taking the balaclava off at night.

a morning where you blessedly don't have to be up early, grey clouds hang in the sky, the promise of a storm later.

"g'mornin'," he says, voice rough with sleep, feeling him flex and stretch beneath you, groaning as his body relaxes. a flash of heat snaps through you.

"morning," you reply, only half-awake, tilting your head up to drag your lips across his jaw, prickling with stubble.

his fingers are in your hair, thick and comforting, tilting you back until his mouth slants over yours. he cradles the back of your head as his tongue slips into your mouth, hot and heavy.

the sheets rustle as he moves to lay over you, free arm resting by your head as your legs hook on his hips, trying to draw him closer to you.

he nips at your bottom lip as he rolls his hips, the heat of his cock through his boxers frazzling your brain. you mewl, his tongue back in your mouth, moving his hand to grip your waist and drag you up against him, moaning low in his throat when he feels the wetness seeping through your panties.

"fuck," you breathe out as his mouth moves over your cheek, down your jaw, kissing the sensitive skin behind your ear.

"say please," he rumbles.

"simon, please," you whine, fingers curling at the base of his skull and scratching, and he snarls against your skin, sinking his teeth into the side of your neck as he tears your panties off, pushing his boxers down enough to free his cock.

you're so wet for him, slick coating your thighs as he drags his cock through your folds.

he usually takes his time — using his fingers and tongue to open them up first, wanting to feel the wet heat of their cunt and the spurt of their release to know they're relaxed and ready for him. he eats pussy like he'll die if he doesn't, will happily spend hours between your legs if you let him.

but you? he feels feral with need.

"it's big, sweet thing," he rasps into your skin, right above the mark he sucked into your skin, notching the head of his cock at your entrance. he's not trying to brag, it's just a fact.

you claw at him, the sting of open scratches burning his skin so pleasantly.

"it's okay, don't care," you pant, gripping him hard enough to leave deep crescent marks in his skin, angling your hips up to draw him into your cunt yourself.

he grips your hips with both hands, slowly pushing his thick length into you, nails digging even deeper the more he pushes in.

"feels so fucking good," he says, tongue laving over your throat to collect the thin sheen of sweat that coats your skin. "could fuck you forever," he groans, your breath hitching.

you make a strangled noise low in your throat. it's been awhile since you've fucked anyone, and you've never fucked anyone as big as him before.

the stretch feels so good, though. your cunt clenches around him as he sinks in deeper, mind glazing over as you focus only on him.

"fuck," he whines when he finally seats himself fully into you, nuzzling into your neck, overwhelmed by the heat and slick, "good fucking girl, taking me so well."

he swallows thickly, waiting a couple heartbeats to enjoy this — it's been awhile for him, too.

"think you can take it, love?" and his fucking voice. you would agree to do anything as long as you could hear that rough accent along your throat, teeth skimming your skin.

"yes," you breathe out harshly, moving to wrap your arms around his shoulders, needing him close, close, closer.

for a man of few words, simon has a filthy mouth as he fucks into you, accompanied by groans and growls into your collar.

"never had a cunt this perfect." "fuckin' made for me." "can't wait to get my tongue in you, feel you cum on my face." "no one else can have you." "you're mine."

and you, normally far more verbal than him, are reduced to nothing more than mewls and pleas and moans for more.

you mouth and nip at his jaw when you can, wanting to mark him just as much as he's marking you. you'll be his forever if he lets you, but you'll be damned if anyone else gets to have him either.

"simon — " is the only warning you give before you cum on his cock, head thrown back as you moan through the waves of pleasure, release coating his legnth and thighs.

"that's it, baby, good girl, give it to me," he says, blunt nails digging into your waist as he grinds himself deep into you. you feel so warm and pliant, the pleasure numbing your mind as he rocks himself into you.

"wanna feel you give me one more, angel," he bites at your throat on the other side, wanting to give you matching marks. he hooks your legs over his shoulders, fucking into you deeper, hitting that spot inside you that has you seeing stars and your toes curling.

you grip at him again, clawing as he fucks into you, the sound of your wet cunt taking each thrust creating a symphony with his groans and your cries. he feels so fucking good, splitting you open and making you whole, desperate for him to cum inside.

the way your nails dig into his shoulder is the sign that you're getting close, and he thrusts just a little harder, a little meaner, your cute whines growing more desperate as you walk the precipice of another orgasm.

no one's ever made you cum more than once — sometimes, not even once — and you've never been able to do it yourself either.

but simon? fucks a second orgasm out of you like it's his life mission, ankles tightening around his neck as pleasure lines your veins, shaking as he continues to hit that spot inside you as you cum, prolonging it as much as he can.

"baby — " he chokes out, sharp teeth on your shoulder, thrusts getting sloppy. the slick of your two releases sounds so loud in your bedroom, feeling the desperation as he thrusts, deeper, harder.

"cum inside," you mumble against his cheek, nails scratching at the base of his skull as he thrusts once, twice, three times — the warmth of his release flooding your cunt.

he fists the sheets in one hand, nails dragging down your thigh as he pumps deep into you, your slick and his release seeping out of your hole, dripping down his balls and your asshole.

you stay like that, lips brushing, breathing in each other's air as you slowly come down from the high.

simon gently — so gently — lowers your legs, carefully watching your face for any signs of discomfort, settling them on his hips, hands moving up and down your thighs. "y'alright?" he asks. you swallow thickly and nod, both hands now at the base of his skull, affectionately scratching at the nape of his neck.

he slowly pulls out, and you miss the stretch and the warmth immediately. you push up on your elbows, watching as the mixture of your pleasure leaks out of you, biting you lip.

"fuckin' beautiful," he says almost reverently, mesmerized.

he spends the next hour cleaning you up, and you think your nails create permanent marks on his shoulders.

time bleeds together.

his contract renews on the twelfth month.

he heard rumors that price might switch him out for another guard.

you're at the meeting — it's your bodyguard, after all, they figure you should get some input. price has two separate folders prepared. a sharp look from simon is all price needed to know about how he feels. the tongue lashing you give your higher ups has price raising his eyebrows, and simon sits forward a little more should he need to haul you out over his shoulder.

he wouldn't mind that too much, he thinks, but he'd rather not.

ten minutes later and you're angrily signing his renewal papers, a blotch of ink at the start of your name as you didn't even read the contract before signing, lungs burning from your rant about personal safety and what the fuck are you thinking and i didn't just buy an entirely new tea set for nothing.

you grip his wrist as soon as he signs himself, dragging him to the nearest bathroom.

his hand covers your mouth as he fucks you deep and slow.

"don't worry, darling, 'm not going anywhere."

eighteen months into his contract, and he's never felt so little control before in his life.

he's meticulous, prepared, tactile.

there's a gun in his holster for distance threats and a knife in his sheath for those who dare get too close.

he makes sure to memorize the exists before you even get to the venue, now making no effort to conceal himself.

he's like a shadow, or a guard dog.

you've never felt more secure. more protected.

until —

he doesn't know how it slipped past him.

he let his eyes linger a little too long on the curve of your neck, where a new diamond pendant lay with his initial engraved on the back. he admires the dip of the dress you wear, open-back that shows the enticing expanse of your back, the dress covering you above the curve of your ass. you look back at him briefly while whomever you're with speaks, eyes sparkling in the bright light of the room, a smile reserved just for him.

he hears the cock of a hammer and his eyes snap to a gentleman who brandishes a gun like he's never held one before in his life. his eyes, though. his eyes are like fire, black with rage, staring at you with such hatred.

you look one second too late.

simon is on you right after the click of the trigger, pushing you to the floor and caging you with his body.

"stay down and don't fucking move," he growls as he reaches for his own weapon, up in a flash.

you can't hear anything except white noise and screams that sound muffled, heart pounding and making it hard to breathe. two shots ring out, in tandem, and there's the telltale sign of a body hitting the floor.

simon is by your side, eyes scanning, frantic, looking for any signs of harm.

"you okay?" he asks, carefully outstretching his hands to let you stop him from touching you should you want. you don't.

"fine," your voice cracks, and you can't stop shaking.

"you're okay, you're okay," he says, cradling your cheeks, thumbs wiping under your eyes. "i'm so fucking sorry," he adds, guilt heavy in his chest.

you grab his wrists lightly, tears streaming down your cheeks as you look him over. you gasp, unable to catch a real breath, unable to look away from his stomach.

"simon — " you say, horror laced in your voice.

he looks down, seeing the red seep through his shirt.

fuck.

at least it wasn't you, he tells himself.

nineteen months into his contract, and he isn't dead.

while he's been shot before — a fact he tells you, assuming it would comfort you, but only got him a venomous glare in return — it's been awhile.

the hospital, the stitches, the gauze and needles. he hated it then and he hates it now.

price comes to you in the hospital — they're keeping simon for a little, to make sure there's no complications with his healing — offering another guard in the interim while simon recovers.

you've never shot down a proposal so quickly in your life. the nerve.

twenty-two months into his contract, and the last of the moving boxes are taped shut and labeled. some of them in your writing, the others in his. the keys to your new house are tucked into his pocket, alongside a black velvet box.

"why do we have so much shit," you whine when packing, only two boxes deep and so many rooms left to go. you're too busy stuffing a manatee shaped steeper into a box — mana-tea, you giggled when he opened it, him rolling his eyes fondly in reply — and don't see him pause, looking at you softer, never hearing "we" before like that. never dreaming he could hear it like that.

a lot of stalling on your part and encouragement on his, and the last box is packed and placed in the back of the truck.

he laces your fingers together as you drive to the new house, a bottle of champagne already chilled.

twenty four months into his contract, and you come home with something hidden behind your back.

you smile like you have a secret, which would be a first.

it's awkward to bring around from your back, but there's a large german shepard puppy wiggling in your grip, tail wagging furiously.

he feels his heart stop for a moment, unable to take his eyes off the puppy, and then the band that's sitting around your finger. he touches his own subconsciously.

you set the ball of fur down, who immediately launches at simon, whining and wiggling and trying to give him kisses.

there's a collar and tag already there, and you watch with your heart beating faster than ever, unable to stop the smile on your lips, as he wrangles the pup enough to read it.

riley.

#ink by bambi #simon riley/reader #simon riley x reader #ghost/reader #ghost x reader #simon riley/you #simon riley x you #modern warfare imagine #modern warfare fanfic #simon riley imagine #simon riley smut #mondern warfare smut

[lavnderwonu]

the boy next door | jeon wonwoo

pairing: idol!boyfriend!wonwoo x fem!reader

genre: secret relationship, established relationship, smut

summary: sneaking around with your secret boyfriend.

warnings: smut (!!!), little plot lol, wonwoo as your secret boyfriend, softdom! wonwoo, wonwoo is hot (yes that's a warning), mirror sex (kinda?), pet names (baby), praise kink, size kink AHEM, clitoral stimulation, fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, reader has to be quiet, hint at another round.

word count: 1.9k

author’s note!: when i tell you this concept has been on my mind for weeks... i'm not lying. the wonwoo brainrot was hitting HARD when i was writing this. i was originally going to make it a secret situationship but im a #1 hater of that whole thing so relationship it is. plus i just think it'd be hot. who wouldn't want wonu as their secret boyfriend? anyway, let me know what you think, i appreciate feedback! 🩷

click here to join my taglist!

Your phone buzzes on your nightstand as you’re in your bathroom, going through your night time routine, just like any other night. As soon as you make it to your phone, it’s stopped ringing. Unlocking it, you see a notification.

Wonwoo

Missed Call

Your boyfriend. Well, only you knew he was your boyfriend, anyway. Although you’d be lying if you never posted any “soft launches” of you two, whether it was an extra iced americano on your counter, or a very obvious mystery man driving while you sat in the passenger seat.

Before you can even call him back, he’s already texting you.

Wonwoo: are you awake? Wonwoo: i saw your story earlier. you looked nice.

You went out earlier in the day to run your usual errands, which usually consisted of shopping of some sort, then wandering around a bookstore. You threw on a cute floral mini dress, and for good measure, you promptly decided to take a picture in your full-body mirror hoping a certain someone would see.

You laugh to yourself, typing out a reply.

you liked it? well you’re too late. i’m in my pajamas now.

It was only 11:30 pm, so maybe it was a tad early for pajamas for some. But for all you know he was probably in sweats playing some game on his phone or reading a book.

Wonwoo: i don’t care, you always look pretty baby Wonwoo: come over here

He lived down the hall from you, with his roommate and best friend, Mingyu. His apartment was easy access, but pretty risky if Mingyu was there, so usually Wonwoo would just come over to yours.

You're about to ask is mingyu there? until he answers the question before you even finish typing.

Wonwoo: mingyu’s gone

You bite your lip, typing a reply. Fuck, you can’t say no.

on my way

You toss your phone on your bed, quite literally, quickly getting yourself ready, you decide to put on your favorite lavender-colored bra and matching panties underneath your pajamas you already had on. Your favorite color; and a different variation of his.

Going down the hall from your apartment, you reach his door, quickly knocking a few times before he answers.

“I thought you were joking when you said you were in pajamas,” Wonwoo jokes, examining you as you walk in. “You were serious.”

“Shut up, it was getting late.” You blush, as you damn near fight the urge to jump him, cause damn. He looks too good, even in a hoodie and sweatpants.

“You look cute,” He pulls you close to him, his fingers sliding underneath your shirt to grip your waist. “Can’t wait to take them off…”

You lean into him, fingers lightly threading through his hair that’s gotten so much longer recently.

“How much time do we have?”

“Hours.” Wonwoo responds, confident. “Mingyu said he was going out with Jungkook, they’ll probably be out half the night drinking.”

His hands slowly slide up your back, sending your heart thrumming in your chest, you’re unable to deny the effect he has on you.

You both know you’d eventually have to go public with your relationship, but for now, you’d just enjoy the adrenaline rush you get everytime you’re alone together.

You make it to his bedroom, in a heated kiss, you back away to safely removing his glasses and placing them on his nightstand.

Kneeling on his bed in front of him, you quickly tug at the hoodie he has on. “Off.” You order him, and he obeys, pulling it over his head.

He tosses to the floor, before kissing you again, his hands slide up your shirt, groping your breasts lightly through your bra, making you softly moan against his lips. He breaks the kiss and his lips softly trail along the corner of your lips, to your jaw, and onward.

You begin working on unbuttoning your silky pajama shirt as Wonwoo trails wet kisses down your neck. His hands take over, effortlessly unbuttoning it. Your eyes glance over to the mirror on the wall, giving you a full view of you kneeling on his bed and him towering over you.

He slips your shirt off your shoulders, and his eyes briefly follow your gaze, realizing what you’re looking at.

“Are you watching yourself in the mirror?” Wonwoo says into your ear, giving you chills.

“Uh-huh.” Your breath shaky as you reply, nodding.

“Turn around.” He suddenly demands, kissing behind your ear before you turn around, your back now facing him.

Wonwoo wraps one arm around your torso, holding you against his sturdy chest. His hand lightly touches your chin, turning you to face the mirror again.

“Keep watching yourself, baby.”

You watch as his free hand slips underneath your pajama shorts, his fingers lightly ghosting over your clothed clit. You gasp as your hips jolt, desperately seeking out more friction.

“Wonwoo…” You gasp, gripping his arm tighter.

His hand slides underneath the elastic of your underwear, applying firm pressure as he circles your clit, before you feel his fingers slide down between your folds and he mutters a breathy fuck against your neck when he feels how wet you are already.

“You’re already dripping for me, baby.” Wonwoo says deeply, voice slightly muffled into your neck. “Couldn’t wait to see me, could you?”

He’s expecting an answer, and it’s impossibly hard now that he’s sliding two fingers inside you, expertly curling his fingers to find that special spot that you often couldn’t reach yourself.

“N-no, I couldn’t… thought about you all day.” You cry, nails digging into his forearm, and he’s seemingly unfazed by it. His fingers pound into your sweet spot, making your head fall back against his shoulder.

“Fuck, look at how pretty you look.” Wonwoo says, glancing at your reflection, your brows furrowed as you focus on the feeling of his fingers inside you.

“I’m so close…” You whine, turning to bury your face in his neck as you inhale the sweet scent of his cologne like you never want to forget it.

“I know, baby. You’re fucking squeezing my fingers.” Wonwoo grunts as your walls clench around his fingers. “Let it go, I got you.”

Your legs shake as you grip onto his forearm for dear life, desperate for something to hold onto. A cry of his name leaves your lips as you cum, your heart racing, panting trying to catch your breath.

“That’s my girl.” Wonwoo turns to kiss your forehead gently, his fingers slip from your dripping center, brushing your clit one last time and the friction is enough to make you wince.

He releases his hold on you, and you turn around to face him, kissing him needily. “Fuck me,” You whisper against his lips. “I need you.”

“So needy…” Wonwoo playfully mocks you, suddenly turning into his unintentionally adorable self, as if he didn’t just pull a powerful orgasm out of you moments ago. “Don’t I at least get to enjoy this cute little set you wore for me?” He pulls off your shirt, even though it was already damn near falling off anyway.

You blush, kissing him again.

“We don’t have time for that.” You chuckle, already feeling somewhat anxious that Mingyu is going to walk into the apartment at any second.

Wonwoo can read you like a book, and he notices right away. “Hey, there’s no rush.” He says gently, as his hands reach behind you to unhook your bra.

You slide it off the rest of the way, then toss it on the floor. “I know, I’m just enjoying this. I don’t want to be interrupted.” You drape your arms over his shoulders as you press your body against him, kissing him fervently. You moan against his lips as you feel his hard cock pressing against you.

You slide your hands down his chest, reaching to loop your fingertips into the waistband of his sweatpants. “Take these off, baby.” You whisper as you kiss his along jaw a few times, before you grope his length through them for emphasis. “Please.”

Wonwoo gently nudges you to fall back on his bed, and you sit up on your elbows, eagerly watching him as he obeys you, taking them off. “Better?” His gaze meets yours as you look him over.

You eagerly nod, lifting your hips for him as he rids you of your pajama shorts you still had on, along with your soaking wet underwear.

“How do you want it, baby?” Wonwoo huskily asks you, removing his underwear. He curses under his breath as he watches you bend your knees and spread your legs apart, allowing him full access to you.

You gasp as you feel him suddenly pull you further down on his bed, quickly followed by a whine as you feel the weight of his cock on your clit. You sit up on your elbows to see him dragging his cock through your folds, coating himself in your wetness.

Both of you can only watch, breathing heavily.

“Wonwoo…” You whine his name, gripping the sheets beneath you as the tip of his cock bumps you clit again. You both watch as he lines himself up with your entrance, finally pushing inside you.

“Look at that.” Wonwoo grunts, watching you take every inch, feeling your walls stretch to accommodate him.

“Fuck…” You throw your head back, a soft moan falling from your lips as you feel so full. “You’re too big…”

“You take me so well…look at you.” Wonwoo praises you, as his hands come up to gently stroke your inner thighs, and it’s enough to get you to relax. “You okay?”

You nod, “Yeah, you can move. Please.”

He starts to pound into you at a steady pace, making you grab onto his shoulders for something to hold onto. Your nails dig into his skin as he drives his cock into your sweet spot over and over.

You let out a sob of a moan, and Wonwoo thinks it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard.

“God, you sound so pretty,” He moans, “Crying for me…”

“I’m not gonna last long.” You whine, your walls already clenching around him.

Your heart nearly stops in your chest when suddenly you hear the front door to the apartment open, then hear Mingyu enter.

You gasp, and Wonwoo quickly shushes you.

“Relax, he’s not going to come in here, he probably thinks I left.” He whispers, all the while he hasn’t stopped fucking you.

“Can you be quiet?”

You can barely find the words to speak, your brain too focused on the feeling of his cock inside you.

“Answer me.”

You frantically nod, and that’s about all you can muster the strength to do. Your walls clench around him and he knows you’re close.

“Shit, I’m gonna come…” You softly moan, as quiet as you can, then you feel his hand cover your mouth, muffling your cries as your walls squeeze his cock hard, but he keeps fucking you through your high.

He keeps going until he’s coming too, groaning into your neck as you feel his cock nearly throbbing as he releases inside of you.

“Fuck…” Wonwoo sighs, as you both are catching your breath. “That wasn’t how that was supposed to happen.” You both smile bashfully at each other.

You gently thread your fingers through his hair, pushing it back off his forehand.

“That’s okay, we can sneak over to my place… we won’t have to be quiet.”

tags: @dearlyjun @cosmojinyoung

some others i couldn’t tag! 💔

#jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo smut #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut

[kestalsblog]

Basic Tips to Improve Your Writing

I used to read a lot of unprofessional writing online, and through that endeavor, I started mentally compiling different qualities that turned me off to people's work right away. I'm sharing some of my thoughts about ways to improve your writing so others don't click off your work right away!

-Change paragraphs when different characters are speaking.

-In that same thread, remember to make new paragraphs and not have one giant block of text. This isn't only discouraging for some readers, but actually physically impossible to read for those who are visually impaired.

-Learn grammar. Sorry, but there is no way around this one. For example, commas aren't just for aesthetic appeal or your personal choice, and it will turn some readers away if your writing is littered with grammatical errors. You can't break the rules for creative purposes if you don't even know them, and the difference is generally apparent.

-Remember the narration style you've chosen. For example, if you're writing in third person limited, you can't think outside the mind of your main character. Don't jump suddenly to the thoughts of other characters or an all-knowing, omniscient voice.

-Slow down. Each word matters, so try not to think of writing as "I must get from Point A to Point B," but "I must get from Point A to Point B beautifully."

-Avoid repeating the same word or phrase too much, especially within the same paragraph. There are exceptions in dialogue, of course. (It's sweet when writers acquire their own personalized phrasings that mark their voice, but I have turned away from works where the exact same line just kept coming up again and again).

-Don't forget about setting. You might be able to imagine where your characters are, but no one else can if you don't let them know.

-Use a consistent verb tense.

-Your characters are not you and generally shouldn't always be mouthpieces for you to share your own values and thoughts.

-Your characters should sound distinctly different from each other, including their talking styles.

-Don't bog the reader down with too much description, and make sure the description you do have is realistic. Think about it. In the morning, do you wake up, go to the mirror, and think to yourself, "I looked at my shaggy dark hair and emerald green eyes"? Nobody thinks that way about their own appearance, and it feels like a forced way to let the reader know what the main character looks like.

-There's no need to start tossing out every character trait if it's not relevant to the story.

-Last, show some passion and excitement for your own work. Make sure the language embodies that passion because if you don't even care about your writing, who will?

#writeblr #writing community #writing #writers on tumblr #for writers #writing advice #kestal #text post

[bkgml]

sleeping on katsuki while he works!

katsuki liked to jump the gun on a lot of assignments, he’s not a slacker. so when aizawa announced a final assignment before graduation, you bet your ass he was going to finish it the day it was announced.

he locked himself in his room after school, even though you were whining that you wanted to spend time with him.

the next time you saw him was dinner, he came downstairs to eat with you before heading back up to his room.

“bye, sweets. ‘m gonna go back to work.” he kissed your cheek.

“wait!” you ran up to him and held his hand.

“can i sit in your bed until you’re done? wanna sleep in your room.”

he thought about it.

“alright. if you make a bunch of noise you’re getting fuckin kicked out.”

“deal!”

the two of you walked to his dorm, hand and hand. as you entered his room you ran and jumped on his bed, getting comfy in the sheets with your phone.

“if you’re going to watch something with sound, use my headphones, kay?” he went to sit in his desk chair.

“okay.” you said, grabbing his headphones from his nightstand.

he worked for a couple more hours, driven by his motivation to be the best.

you were getting sleepy though and wanted him to hold you. you didn’t think he’d work for this long.

katsuki assumed you were already asleep, surprised at the lack of noise coming from his bed.

you took his headphones off and stood from the bed, walking to him.

you ran your fingers through his hair and he looked at you. your eyes were drooping and your movements were sluggish.

“hey, baby. why are you still awake?” he questioned.

“i wanna sleep with you katsuki. how much longer are you going to work for?” you say, rubbing your eyes.

“i still have a couple more hours of work in me.”

you whine and he runs his fingers against your cheek.

“can i sit with you? miss you.” you lean into his touch.

“yeah, come on.” he turns his chair towards you, hands grabbing under your shoulders and lifting you into his lap, guiding your legs through the arm rests.

now you sit chest to chest with him, cuddling into his form.

‘well this is distracting..’ katsuki thinks, but he can’t help not caring. he wanted to be with you too.

he forces himself to continue working, determined to finish this assignment by tonight.

as he works he occasionally presses sweet kisses to your temple, caresses your cheek and slips his big hand under your shirt to trace your spine.

there’s a portion of the assignment that requires him to watch a video, so he opens the video and is met with a full blast intro from some stupid sidekick.

he jumps and pauses the video, his eyes wide and glued to you.

you whine, trying to hide your face in the comfort of your boyfriends neck.

“i know, sweet girl, ‘m sorry.” he kisses your cheeks.

“just go back to sleep, yeah?”

you blink the sleep out of your eyes, it’s late.

“kats, why are you working so late? can we go to bed now?” you ask sweetly.

he threads his fingers through your hair.

“i’m on the last part, just 20 minutes.” he reasons.

you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, lips moving in tandem and he groans softly.

“don’t overwork yourself, it’ll still be here tomorrow.” you drag your hands down his arms soothingly.

“come to bed.” you say into his jaw before pressing a kiss to it.

“fine, let’s go to bed.” he gives in and you smile into his skin, kissing it again.

he surprises you by standing with you still wrapped in his arms.

he propels the two of you onto his bed with a jump. you squeal, hiding your face in his neck.

“katsuki!” he laughs.

the two of you land with him under you to cushion your fall.

once your heart rate returns to normal after the scare he gave you, you wrap your arms around him and press your cheek to his chest.

the moment gets cut short and your heart rate spikes once again when you hear a knock at the door. eyes wide and looking at each other, the silent question stains the air…

‘is that aizawa?!’

you’d be expelled on the spot if the two of you were caught in katsukis room alone. the two of you decide to just stay silent in hopes of him giving up and walking away.

“yo bakugou!!” you hear a whisper-shout followed by more knocks.

katsuki groans and you laugh, getting up and walking to the door.

“hi kiri.” you say as you open it.

“hey yn! can i sleep on the beanbag tonight? i just watched the scariest movie ever made.”

“no!” katsuki shouts from his place in bed.

“yes, you can.” you say, sending a half assed glare to katsuki.

kirishima grins.

“thanks yn! you’re the greatest.” he says while running and jumping onto the massive beanbag in the corner of katsukis room.

you sigh sleepily and walk to katsuki, climbing into bed with him. he turns towards the wall and you accept it, he’s probably worried about showing pda. you end up turning away from him too, moving your foot back to rub against his calf affectionately.

“guys, you know ive seen you act lovey dovey before right? i’ll turn away so you guys can cuddle.” kirishima smiles.

“don’t worry about it kiri-“ you start.

“fine. do it then.” katsuki says, rolling over. he didn’t stop working for nothing! he wants to hold you!

kirishima grins at you before turning away.

you turn to look at your boyfriend. he presses his face into your neck and inhales. shifting to wrap his arm around your waist and put his other arm under your head as a pillow. he pulls you close to his chest. you look up at him and lift your hand from underneath the duvet to stroke at his cheek.

“i love you.” you whisper, quiet as a mouse as to not disturb kirishima.

katsuki grunts in response. you know he means ‘i love you too’ though, he’s just not ready to say it in front of kirishima.

“i love you guys too!” you hear from the beanbag in the corner and you laugh while katsuki grumbles about his friend, still hidden in your neck. he’s breathing deeply, trying to get every drop of the perfume you wear that wore of during the day. he can smell your lotion and the shampoo you use. he thinks he’s never smelt anything as good as you.

he kisses your neck before drifting off into a deep sleep, still tired from the hours of schoolwork he did.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x yn #bakugou x you #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader

[steddielations]

Upstaged | Part 2 | Part 1

It all makes sense.

When Eddie comes back from taking photos with the fans, he looks a little sheepish for the first time. Steve has about a million things to ask, mostly he just wants to laugh about the fucking odds, but he remembers the grace Eddie extended to him about the press ordeal.

Instead, he settles back with his lime soda and a simple question, “So, what kind of music are you into?”

A grateful smile breaks out across Eddie’s face, ecstatic to dive into that with Steve. Their lunch extends into dinner. Steve doesn’t have anywhere to be these days and Eddie practically jumps up and down when the meeting he was in the area for gets canceled. They stay there for a couple more hours, just talking. 

Their music taste overlaps at certain points, Eddie talks about how getting his first guitar from the pawn shop pretty much saved him, Steve recounts a little league story that makes Eddie laugh so hard he chokes on his soda.

It’s the most monumentally casual time Steve’s ever had with a new friend in public and he’s not ready for it to end. Even after exchanging numbers and promising to meet up again, they still linger together outside.

“So uh, I remember where I know you from now."

Eddie leans against the side of the building. It’s getting dark, they’re tucked away from any eyes so Steve freely scoots closer to Eddie, waiting for him to explain. He does after a moment, seeming nervous and fiddling with his rings.

“I hate to ask, but my Uncle is huge into baseball, especially you and your general all-around-awesome thing. There weren’t players like you to look up to when he was young, all that. I’ve seen you on his tv so many times, you’re basically part of the family— ah shit, that’s weird, sorry,” he cringes a little, scrunching his nose in a way that makes Steve’s chest clench with affection, “But he’s getting old and like I said earlier, he’s my rock, he raised me and I won’t forgive myself if I don’t at least ask you to come see him sometime.”

The way he rambles is pretty endearing, looking at Steve with a wide-eyed hopeful expression, as if there was even a chance Steve would say no.

He reaches out, gently takes Eddie’s hand to stop his restless fidgeting, “You want me to meet your folks already, hm?”

Eddie lets out an amused scoff, looking down at their hands and back at Steve like he can’t believe it. “You’re not as funny as you think you are, Steve.” 

Steve knits his brows, “Why’s that?”

“C’mon man. Y’know how hard it is to find someone who can handle this lifestyle, let alone all the shit that comes with me,” shaking his head a little, Eddie smiles but there’s something aching in it, “Then the nicest looking guy I’ve ever seen comes outta nowhere and saves my life, agrees to go to lunch, happens too know as well as me that life in the limelight ain’t always pretty and turns out to be one of the best people I’ve ever met.”

His fingers thread through Steve’s, holding tight like he’s not sure it’s real. “Even if I never see you again, I’m gonna write songs about you. I’d take you home and keep you right now if I could, but that’s not happening.”

There’s a part of Steve he’s kept shut down for years that comes pumping through his veins then, hot and alive. He realizes that he’s been trying so hard to keep his life as normal as possible that he’s been missing out on actually living it. Now he has this wonderful, crazy, wonderful man spontaneously in front of him and he’s not letting him slip away. 

Steve moves in, slowly crowding Eddie against the wall. Eddie’s eyes go a little wide with surprise then darken with desire. Steve watches his face shift through so many emotions, his mouth parting with a soft gasp, wanting this just as badly as Steve.

“Wanna bet?” Steve asks before he crashes into Eddie again. 

This time it’s a hot press of lips instead of a full-body collision, but it’s just as breathtaking.

Steve deepens the kiss, thrill prickling all across his skin when Eddie opens up for him right away. Steve licks passed the bright hint of lime on their tongues to get to Eddie. The heady taste of him makes Steve’s world spin, all the desperate noises between them going straight to his head.

“Want you so bad, Eddie, wanna keep you too,” he threads his fingers into all that hair, reveling in the shiver it elicits from Eddie, “God, just wanna have you.”

Eddie chases his lips, “You can, Steve, you can have me— please do.”  

Steve loves the sound of that, going in for a longer, more indulgent kiss before pulling back.

“You can’t take me home tonight,” he professes hotly against Eddie’s lips, “My place is closer, you’re coming with me.”

#and at some point eddie admits that he's jerked off to steve's magazine covers before #might keep this going we'll see #steddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #rockstar eddie munson #famous eddie munson #famous steve harrington #rueswriting

[netherfeildren]

Evermore

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel’s your older boyfriend who your parents had a hard time approving of, but you’re engaged now and spending your first Thanksgiving with your family, and well, it’s always fun doing things you know you shouldn’t do under the roof of your childhood home.

-OR-

The Thanksgiving AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: No outbreak AU; Thanksgiving AU; Devoted Joel Miller; Established Relationship; Thanksgiving is the most boyfriend holiday and it needs to be discussed; Fucking in your childhood home shenanigans; Pretty soft and sweet; Needy behavior; Older man/Younger woman; Daddy kink; Size Difference; Unprotected PIV; Creampie; Breeding Kink; Oral sex; Fluff and Smut; Praise Kink; Come eating; PWP

A/N: Was thinking yesterday that Thanksgiving is the most boyfriendy holiday, and so this seemed entirely necessary after that epiphany. I’m sick as an old dog right now, and wrote this so quickly and just for fun. Any and all mistakes are property of my NyQuil induced high, apologies and enjoy and happy holidays :]

New Year’s Eve follow up

Word Count: 4.2K

Read on AO3

Ko-fi

“You’re doing so good.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, baby. So, so good. It’s going so well.” You drag your nails slowly up the wide expanse of his strong back, feeling the divots and bumps of his spine, the thick padding of muscles that jump and shiver at your touch. He’d donned the nice green and red plaid button down you’d bought him for tonight, and he’s a little damp at the small of his back, giving away the nerves he’s trying to keep hidden from you, but you can tell anyways, sensed them as if they’d been your own fluttering within you. More attuned to another person than maybe is normal, perhaps, but you know this man, your man, your fiance now. You understand him. 

“You think he likes me?” And his voice goes a little gruff, sheepish, words lodging in his throat as he slowly soaps your mother’s special holiday china in the warm sink water. The two of you’d been relegated to clean up duty after you’d finished the beautiful Thanksgiving meal your mother had spent days readying in preparation for your first official visit with Joel as the man you’d soon marry. No longer just the older boyfriend who your father couldn’t stand to hear about, much less bear the sight of. And the come around had been slow going, undoubtedly, tireless work on yours and your mother’s parts trying to get him to relent, to accept the man who you’d chosen to spend the rest of your life with as a good man for his daughter. 

“Yes– yes. Absolutely. You made him laugh so many times. And he was so interested when you mentioned the house.”

You feel him suck in a shaky breath and move to wrap your arms around the strong breadth of his waist, resting your cheek against him, listening to the thud, thud of his beating heart. “Christ–” He gives a tremulous laugh that you follow suit warmly, palms splaying out over his belly. “He was, wasn’t he?” 

“So interested. Please, don’t worry anymore. My mom loves you, and dad’s on his way there too, I know he is, I promise.”

“He’s just protective,” he says, shutting off the water and pulling the plug on the drain. The both of you stand there in the silence together, listening to the little tornado of water suck away the remnants of the perfect dinner you’d just had with your parents and the man you were going to marry. It really had been perfect, and you’re telling him the truth when you say you really do think your father’s coming around. He’d been apprehensive at first, more than apprehensive, perhaps, with Joel being so much older than you, twenty years to be exact. And with a teenage daughter of his own, Sarah, who was spending the holiday with her mother. 

Your mother had always been the easy going one, and she’d taken one look at Joel, the dark, silver threaded curls, the thick shoulders and sparkly, hazel eyes, the too charming smile and had immediately understood. Your father had seen all those same things and seen nothing but trouble immediately deserving of mistrust. Things had been rocky for a time, but when Joel had gotten down on one knee and asked you to spend the rest of your life with him and Sarah, when he’d broken ground on the house he was building you with his bare hands from the dirt up out by the lake, well… your father hadn’t been able to withhold his approval for much longer after that was all said and done. 

“And for good reason,” he continues, reaching for the dish towel, drying off his hands before covering yours over his stomach with his wide palms, pulling your arms tighter around him. He brings one of your hands up to his face, cupping his own mouth with it to press a kiss to the tender cove. “The man should take me out back and drag me through the mud,” he mumbles, muffled into your skin, dragging his mouth slowly from side to side, tickling your palm with his whiskers. 

You press yourself harder against him, shoving him into the edge of the counter, dizzy with the feel of your heart beating so hard against your sternum it reverberates against the ribs in his back. “No, baby. Why? Never.” You press a kiss right over the slope of his spine. 

He gives a soft laugh at the feel of your wriggling against him, trying to find friction anywhere and anyway, not very inconspicuously rubbing your breasts against his back, and he turns slowly in the circle of your arms with that humming laugh still caught in his throat, bending slightly at the knees when he wraps his own arms around your waist to pull you up and into him so that your feet are left to dangle above his own heavy boots. He nuzzles at the warm, fragrant skin beneath the edge of your jaw, a small kiss to the tender spot behind your ear, where he whispers, “‘Cause all I could think about at the goddamn table, sittin’ next to your father, was how pretty your tits look in that dress you wore for me – how much I wish I could kiss that pretty pussy to sleep tonight.” 

You whine low, desperate, needy, wrapping your arms behind his neck to press his face tightly to your throat, breath hitching at the feel of his teeth, sharp at your pulse. “Joel–”

He shakes his head slowly, a long stream of sighing breath warm against your collarbone before he says, “I know– I know, baby. I’m telling ya– your father should kill me for the things I wanna do to his little girl. For the things I do to her already.”

The visit had so far been everything you could’ve wished for, and what you’d appreciated more than anything, more than your father’s very approval of your fiance, or your mother’s happiness for you, was that Joel had found the perfect balance between being respectful, ingratiating even, while still remaining uncowed by your father. Walking into your parents home with your hand in his, a deferential kiss to your mother’s cheek, and a strong, self assured handshake for your father while he’d handed him the bottle of his favorite fine aged whiskey and a demure, I’m glad we could make this work for our girl.

Our girl, he’d said, and it had made everything that lived inside of you with his name on it, everything that was perpetually soft and wet for him, go molten. You loved him. You belonged to him. And you’d chosen him for yourself, and he was sure as hell going to make sure everyone the two of you came across knew what that choice entailed, what it meant to him. Your father had been forced into capitulation, all with the whiskey and the self assurance in Joel’s eyes, your own unbridled elation, and your mother’s giggles and blushing smiles like every other woman who’s ever met this man, unable to resist the charm of that Southern twang and the too gorgeous smile, no other recourse had been left to your poor dad. 

You think of this as you make your way on silent tiptoes through your parent’s dark, quiet home. It had been the one concession you’d not garnered from your father, the sleeping arrangements. He’d absolutely refused to allow you and Joel to share a bed under his roof, no questions asked. And no matter how much you’d pleaded and your mother had cooed and cawed and threatened him, he’d not relented. At this point, you were worried he’d not let you sleep in the same bed as Joel even after the two of you’d been married. But what your father didn’t understand, what even you yourself barely understood sometimes was that you needed Joel. You need him. No one, no one except for Joel himself understood how desperately that ran inside of you. He understood you, he always has. 

You pause as you reach the closed door of his bedroom, splaying a palm against the fine grained wood to take a settling breath, your heart beating so fast you feel it in your throat, chock full of excitement, lust, desperate yearning. To have him here, in your childhood home, where you’d been a teenager, a girl, grown into a woman, you want him so, so badly, inside of you, around you, beneath you. You can never sleep without him anymore, no comfort to be found in the too small bed of your childhood – you turn the knob and slip inside. 

The blue darkness of the guest bedroom paints his form in shadows, big under the pretty quilt your mother has adorning the bed. You can see the heavy mass of his shoulder peeking from beneath the edge of the quilt, the ratty gray t-shirt you know has a faded longhorn stretched across the front; not able to sleep naked and wrapped only in you the way he usually does when under your parents roof. You turn the lock and step carefully on tipped toes, avoiding the creaky bits in the hardwood floor you’re so familiar with after a lifetime living in this house and lift the edge of the quilt to slip into the cocoon of warmth with him. Like a living furnace, you snake your arm over his flank slowly, enjoying the shiver and jerk of his muscles as you stroke him awake. Your palm, passing over thick ridged muscles and soft belly, digging beneath to feel the wispy scratch of hair there. 

He makes a deep sound, low in his chest, legs shifting as he comes to wakefulness, and then the gruff murmur of your name being whispered into the dark, his big, callused palm coming to wrap entirely around your fist beneath his t-shirt, keeping you from slipping it inside his sleep pants. “Baby, what’re you doin’?” He slurs, voice full of sleep and slow waking lust. 

You press your pelvis into his backside, hitching your knee up and over his hip to wrap yourself around him like vines. “I need you,” you mewl, baby voice trying to get ahead of his polite refusal before he’s able to get it out. He’d told you, before the two of you’d embarked on this weekend at your parents house, that there was to be no funny business on your part. As if he didn’t know that that was your favorite kind of business where he was concerned. You press a kiss above his scapula, then open your jaw to drag your teeth against the skin warmed cotton. You rub against him, clutching and pulling at his chest and stomach, biting and kissing as much of his back as you can reach, your foot somehow finding its way into his lap so that you can feel his quickly hardening cock against the sensitive arch of your foot. 

He groans roughly. “You’re gonna get us caught, sweet girl,” he tries to protest, but wraps his hand around the little foot in his lap anyways, pressing the arch of it into that half hard erection, rubbing against it. 

“I need you– I can’t sleep without you,” you whine, and he makes a frustrated sound, turning to face you, gripping your knee as he goes to open the cradle of your hips for himself, drawing your leg over his waist so that you’re suddenly chest to chest, sipping on each other’s warm breath. With a fist in your hair he gives you a hardly believable reprimand, little girl, and presses his lips briefly to yours, quick and damp, barely there, like he can’t help himself, like he knows that if he starts he won’t be able to stop, wandering hands already slipping up the hem of your nightgown, squeezing your panty clad ass. 

“Your parents…” he tries again, the roll of his hips against yours, coupled with a hitched whine, making his objections a little laughable.

“Don’t you miss me? Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me here with you?”

“Of course– of course I do–” You twist your fingers in his curls, the first real press of your mouths, his damp upper lip slotting between both of yours so that you can give it a little suck. Then the tip of his tongue touching yours, and you’re opening all the way for him, moaning wantonly into his mouth, letting him lick and taste behind the line of your teeth. “‘Course I want you here, baby.”

“I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet,” you promise. “Please, please, Joel. Please, just–” The hand squeezing your ass slides between your legs, finds the damp plaquet of panties. Fuckin’ soaked already, needy girl. “Please, just fuck me. I’ll be so quiet, I promise.”

“Baby…”

Please, please, please. He’s always had something about him that turns you into nothing more than a wet little girl desperate for the big, big man’s attention. The impropriety of your surroundings has no bearing on this, the desperation is as present as ever, heightened even, maybe, because of the wrongness of it, because you could be caught red handed at any second if you’re not careful, not quiet enough. 

“‘Course I love you so fuckin’ much. You even need to ask?” He rubs the flat of his palm over your pussy, the tip of his middle finger finding the nub of your clit covered by the soaked wet silk to press lightly on each pass forward.

“No, Daddy. I know,” you breathe soft and secret into his mouth, watch the slight widening of his eyes as you say it. You can picture the flush suffusing his cheeks at hearing you call him so, know the effect the sound of it has on him. 

“Fucking Christ,” he murmurs, pulling you tighter against him, tilting your head back by the grip he has on your hair so that he can deepen his kiss, taste you more thoroughly. “Better be quiet while I fuck you.” He pulls back, mock frown and a note of reprimand in his voice as his fingers dip beneath the silk of your panties to find the wet, swollen mess of you already. He moans into your open mouth, your name and I love you and wet fuckin’ pussy as he starts to pet at you slowly. His fingers swirling at your clit and then moving to your opening, dipping inside just a tiny bit, giving you almost nothing, forcing a frustrated whine up your throat. “I said quiet.”

“Please, Daddy. Please,” you beg, but he returns to your clit, ignoring your whining, pinching the bundle of nerves lightly before he’s back to teasing the mouth of your cunt, dipping the tip of a single finger in shallowly to pull your wetness from you and spread it over your mound, slicking you up for him. 

“We’re gonna go nice and slow. Gonna take my pretty cunt nice and slow, and you’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you? Gonna be quiet – not get us caught, right? Say yes.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you whisper, pressing kisses all along his face and jaw and throat, needy fingers twisting in his curls, scratching at the back of his neck and the hills of his shoulders. He make an approving groan of a sound, rolling the two of you over so that you’re on your back, splayed out beneath him, and he pulls the vee of your nightgown down, bearing your breasts to him, sucking on each nipple, first hard then soft, then with teeth and tongue, slicking you in his spit, and you try and stay quiet, you really, really do, but it’s so hard not to cry out at the sight of his jaw hinging wide, seemingly trying to take the whole heavy weight of your breast into his mouth in one go. 

He always has you like he wants you more than anything else in the whole world, like he’s never wanted anything else in his whole life more than he wants you, and nothing feels better than that, nothing makes you crazier for him than the way he wants you so desperately. 

He makes his way down the length of you with kisses to your breasts, your ribs, your belly, the mound of your pelvic bone, before he’s gathering your knees together and bending them to press against your chest, pulling the lace and silk of your panties over the curve of your bottom and diving nose first into your wet cunt, taking in a deep drag of your scent and then dragging the broad, flat of his tongue from your asshole to your clit in one long, slow swipe. The groan he ends on has you almost coming on his tongue just like that, the sound so hungry it would scare someone who doesn’t want to be wanted as badly by this man as you do. And he eats your cunt like he’s angry, like he’s in love with you, like he doesn’t care if you get caught or not. Tongue plunging into your pussy, sucking on your clit, shaking his head, quick and hard, from side to side so that the obscene sound of your wetness against his mouth is all you can hear over the cacophony sounding in your ears right before you gush for him all wet and sweet and sticky, covering his tongue and beard. His lips wrap around your swollen clit again while it still pulses for him, and you have to shove your fist into your mouth, drooling around it to stifle the sound of your cries for his cock while he sucks you into a second painfully fluttery orgasm, your womb cramping hard and tight around nothing, your cunt clutching desperately at air for the cock it’s about to gladly take. The hum of his movements, of his whines and moans, don’t match his promise for nice and slow. They tell you this is going to be hard and deep and might even hurt, and that you’ll like it all the more for that. This is, after all, what you’d snuck in here for, just exactly this. 

He pulls away from your cunt with a loud, wet suck, popping your clit from his puckered mouth like a piece of too ripe, too sweet fruit, before crawling up the length of you, pulling your soaked panties and your nightgown from your body as he goes, shucking his own sweat soaked shirt over his head and kicking his pajama bottoms away. When he takes your mouth again, his face and beard are wet and sticky with your slick, all sweet sugared musk and the angry thrust of his tongue, his fingers, too hard and too tight wrapping around your jaw, grunting into your mouth as he sucks on your tongue. His burning hot cock thrusts between your wet cleft, the sound of your leaking pussy loud enough to be heard over the sound of your mingled panting breaths. You feel him grip himself, stroking once, twice, wide, blunt head bumping against slick soaked skin, before he’s notching at your cunt and shoving in, hard and fast. Not giving you a chance to think about it before he’s bumping at the mouth of your womb, a muted bruise you never tire of; his too big cock that still pinches every time, that presses in just on this side of too deep to always be comfortable, but you don’t care. The proof is in the hurt, and you need constant reminding that he’s real, that this is real. It’s your greatest pleasure, after all, the reassurance of him, of the two of you, and he never tires of giving it to you. You know that giving you the things you need and want from him, turns Joel on more than anything else.

He groans long and low into the crook of your shoulder when he bottoms out and holds there for several drawn out moments, both of you enjoying the pulse and throb of your connection. He’s so deep and you’re so wet for him, taking him so, so well, like he always tells you that you do. You’d felt, from the first moment that you’d laid eyes on him, like you’d been made for him. Put on this earth just for him to find and keep, and doing this, having each other like this, even after all the times you’ve done it, always feels like further proof of it. He grinds against you, hips shifting from side to side, tip bumping against the deepest part of you, before he’s clutching at your ass and flipping the both of you over suddenly, cock never slipping from your tight clutch when he settles you on top of him, buried to the hilt. You feel him in your stomach like this, and you tell him so, little hand coming to rest low on your belly where you’re holding him inside of you, pressing down so that the both of you can feel your connection from the inside out, groaning in tandem all wide and sparkly eyed as you look at each other. And he’s nodding his head at you as you start to shift your hips slowly, feeling the wet slide of his length, the grind of your clit against his pelvis, one hand pressing down on your belly, the other anchoring yourself on his own stomach so that you can rock yourself on him. 

He pulls one of your knees up, resting your foot flat on the bed to open you to his gaze, so that he can watch the way the thick root of his cock splits your cunt open for him to fuck up into. The two of you find your rhythm, you rolling your hips down on his upthrust, and he’s still nodding his head at you, mouthing words made of only air at you while you gasp and gulp for breath, I love you and you’re so pretty and yeah, ride that cock, baby. All you can do in return is mumble his name at him over and over again, Joel, Joel, Joel, nonsensical. Your brain doesn't work when he’s got his cock wedged this deep inside of you, it just doesn’t.

There's sweat pooling in the divots of his collarbones, the sun grizzled notch of his throat, and you fold over forward, changing the angle, deepening it, to lick up those little pools of salt, sucking on his neck until he’ll surely have incriminating bruises tomorrow. You don’t care, not even a little bit. He’s so yours in this moment, always really, but right now, Joel feels so, so incredibly yours, and you love him so much, and he’s going to be your husband one day soon and nothing else really matters besides that. 

He wraps both arms around your back, squeezes you to himself tight and starts to fuck up into you, fast, brutal, again, nothing nice and slow about it like he’d promised, and you’re forced to dig your teeth into his shoulder so hard you’re scared for a moment you’ll taste blood on your tongue. You can feel your orgasm crawling up your spine, pooling like liquid heat in your pelvis while everything goes tight and fluttery inside of you. “How mad would he be if I knocked you up right now? If I fucked his baby girl full’a my baby under his roof?” He grunts into your ear, and there’s the dip in your restraint. As much as you want to hold off and wait for him, you clench down hard around him with a sharp cry, mouthful of his skin to muffle you only barely. “Huh? What’dya think he’d say?” He continues, changing the angle so that his pelvis bumps against your clit on every punch in, balls slapping wetly against the curve of your ass while he pets at the tight ring of muscle back there, tempting you with more than you think you can take right now. “If you go all pretty and round and soft for me before our wedding.” 

You can't speak, you’re nothing but air and sticky, sweet wet in the shape of a girl made just for him. Too tight grip in your hair, and he’s jerking your face towards him, grunting into your mouth as he starts to spill inside of you, burning hot come milked out of his cock and deep into you, and he tells you again how much he loves you, tells you that you’re his pretty little wife because it’s already felt like that for so long. A marrying of your very selves despite the lack of legal nothing that means so little to the both of you when you have all this between you already. Tells you that he can’t wait to see his baby all full of his baby. 

When he’s finished pumping you filled to the brim he turns you over again, pulls out slowly so that the both of you can appreciate the sound of his heavy cock slipping wetly from your well used pussy, and when he bends to eat your mingled come out of your puffy cunt, only to then wedge your mouth open so that he can spit your fluids onto your waiting tongue, all here, taste how good we are, the only words left when it comes to this man and this thing you have between the two of you is always simply thank you. 

New Year’s Eve follow up

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog!

#vic fic #Joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller/ you #joel miller fanfiction #Joel miller fic #the last of us au #Joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal characters

[2hightocare]

PRINCESS TREATMENT ✷

“In a world of boys’ he’s a gentleman” mini series—

Synopsis: Jungkook simply does everything to make you happy..

Genre: established relationship!

Warnings: pure fucking fluff… (seriously makes me wanna jump in oncoming traffic) jungkook is a bright green flag, he’s love language is “acts of service” (can be read as a standalone but I recommend reading the first part)

a/n: we all deserve oc and jungkooks kinda love.. I’m turning this into a mini series since a lot of people enjoyed it🤍

for @ohsweetmimosa !!

Falling in love was always something that you wanted, your face has always been shoved into pages of books, wondering when it would be your turn to experience that type of love. Your mom would always tell you that your expectations were too high and that no man could ever be as perfect as a fictional man.

Until you met him.

There were no words in the dictionary to describe him. No words to describe how beautifully his eyes would sparkle whenever he would tell you he loves you, the way his thumb would caress you whenever you would hold hands, or the way he would kiss away the tears that would escape your eyes.

You a hundred percent believed God made men, and sent Jungkook as an apology.

“When did you learn to braid hair…?” You curiously ask, with a slight hint of jealousy in your tone, making Jungkook laugh behind you as his fingers thread the three strands of hair repeatedly. “Watched a YouTube tutorial,” he chuckles, trying so hard not to pull your hair.

“What for..?” You stare at the mirror in front of you with the goofiest smile plastered on your face, watching your boyfriend with no shirt, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he carefully braids your hair with his lip between his teeth.

“You always braid your hair but then complain your arms hurt from keeping them up for so long soo… why not make myself useful.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal.

Your heart did a cartwheel, might have exploded in your chest from how fast it’s beating. But nothing new. You were so accustomed to the feeling of butterflies flying in your stomach whenever he would do or say something to you.

He drops the most beautiful phrases anyone has ever told you so casually, like it was normal. But that was your normal since you met him.

You would hear your friends talk shit about their boyfriends, how they did something or what they didn’t do, but you really just never had anything bad to say about Jungkook. He basically took "Princess treatment" to another level.

You never had to ask for flowers, never had to pull out a chair, never had to open a door, never had to enter a car freezing... because Jungkook being Jungkook went out twenty minutes earlier to turn on the heater before you would get in.

Never had to worry about leaving your wallet at home when the only thing in your bag is lip gloss. Never having to turn on your brain whenever he was around.

Locked doors? Where are the house keys? Did you leave your curler on? Jungkook got it.

“That’s so much better than mine,” you point to his ice cream as your eyes widen from how the creamy flavors melt into your mouth. “So bo—mb!” You muffle out from the mouthful of ice cream shoved into your mouth.

“Let me try yours,” he opens his mouth, waiting for you to send a spoonful of your cookies and cream into his mouth. “Here comes the airplane! Brrr,” you try making airplane noises as your hand does a weird twirl before inserting the spoonful of ice cream into your smiley boyfriend.

“Mhm,” he nods his head, humming loudly, watching you smile at him.

“I actually like yours better, baby. Let’s trade?” Jungkook hands you his small cup of ice cream as you nod happily, while you hand him yours.

Jungkook watches with the biggest smile on his face while inserting another spoonful of the creamy content as he watches you eating the new ice cream flavor enthusiastically, hearing you rave about the new book you have just finished reading and how dumb the main character is.

Jungkook's heart aches, sizing double its size, beating hard in his chest. Your cheeks and nose are rosy from the cold outside the car. You both didn’t care about eating ice cream in the middle of cold December; you guys took it as a challenge on who would get sick first.

He laughs at the lighthearted jokes you threw at him, while you take another big spoonful of the chunky ice cream that was his not so long ago.

Little did you know that he really didn’t like your ice cream flavor.

When Jungkook first met you, he knew from the start that he was a goner. The way you smile at him, how your eyes will have a small glint on them whenever you look at him, or the way you would scrunch your nose if you found something funny or cute.

It took him by surprise when you pulled the move on him, thinking you found something disgusting when you first did it.

“I will literally eat you right now!” You scrunch your nose at your smiling boyfriend who’s slightly kneeling for you to be able to see your initial carved into his haircut.

“So that means you like it?” Jungkook stands up and spins to face you. You stare up at him, his dimples on full display looking down at you with your cute outfit he helped you pick on FaceTime.

“I fucking love it baby!! I have the urge to crawl inside your skin,” you bite your lip containing the laugh you’re trying hard to contain, failing miserably when Jungkook raises an eyebrow with a smirk on his face. “That’s… cute,” he replies before kissing off the little nose scrunch he loves so much off your face.

“Is that like your ‘cutie mark’?” You quip, your arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders. “Cutie mark?” He asks, a hint of interest in his voice while he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him.

“You never watched My Little Pony?” You fake gasp, eyes widening.

“I’ve heard of it, but me sitting down to watch ponies with superpowers… yeah, no.” Jungkook squeezes your waist as he explains.

“You suck,” you roll your eyes playfully sticking your tongue out before entangling yourself off his arms and making your way to the couch.

“Come big baby, we are watching My Little Pony.” You pat the empty couch space beside you.

He watched every season... all nine seasons with you.

Jungkook just wanted to make your life easier; you were always known for being “Miss Independent” in your family and amongst your friends, but here you were letting a man put your heels on for you.

“Too loose or…?” Your boyfriend looks up to you from his kneeling-down position in front of you.

“You look really good on your knees, sir.” You say instead with a sly smirk on your face, ignoring his question. “Pshh,” he rolls his eyes as he chuckles, tying a bow on your lace-up heels.

“Since when do you not flirt back?” You pout watching your boyfriend repeat his actions on the other foot. “Since we are late... and can’t be any more late.” He looks up with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Psh, okay.” You blow out in defeat as your boyfriend chuckles underneath you.

“Come on princess, let's go!” He stands up, giving you a hand for you to stand up off the bed.

The long rides to your guys' destinations were your favorite; Jungkook had given you the “passenger princess” award ever since you set foot in his car. He even installed a light-up mirror on your sun visor whenever you needed to fix your hair or makeup in the car.

Jungkook would listen to your little playlists. He still remembers when you explained to him that each playlist has a different emotion, which made him laugh. Now, anytime you played a song, he would ask you what emotion you were feeling right now.

“What emotion are you feeling right now baby?” He squeezes your thigh as he stops at a red light. The reddish hue illuminates your guy's face. “In love,” you turn your head to the side, staring at your boyfriend who’s already looking at you.

His eyes twinkle as he stares at you, a big smile adorns his face. As you mirror his actions before leaning in and giving him a kiss on the lips, his eyelids immediately flutter close.

“‘Cause I got my mind on you... I’ve got my mind on you.”

Plays softly from the car speaker; you smile into the kiss. “I love you.” He whispers softly. “I love you.” You whisper back.

#jungkook #bts jungkook #bts fanfic #jjk #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #fluff #bangtan #jeon jungkook #jeon jungguk #bts jk #jjk fanfic #blurb #fanfic #jjk x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jeongguk #bts x reader #drabble #jjk fluff

[mrkis]

birthday treat. (m.l)

PAIRING: mark lee x reader GENRE: smut WORD COUNT: 1.9k

SYNOPSIS: giving birthday boy mark his birthday treat

CONTENT WARNINGS: established relationship, 18+ content, kissing, light nipping, swearing, ass grabbing, oral (m receiving), blowjob, slight face fucking, unprotected sex, praising, creampie, cockwarming.

authors note| happy bday to my lil love♡

You couldn’t hide your excitement as Mark walks through the front door of your apartment, tired face lit up in surprise and awe at the birthday decorations that covering your walls, green and red balloons filled with helium pressed to the ceiling and he jumps back in surprise as you pull the thread of the party popper, the confetti spraying him in the face.

He laughs, dropping his bag down by his feet as he opens his arms wide when you come running towards him, throwing yourself into his embrace and wrapping your own arms around him as tightly as you can.

Mark exhales softly as he returns the hug, nuzzling his nose into the crevice of your neck and breathing in your scent as he rocks your body from side to side, laying small, delicate pecks on your skin and you grin widely, leaning back from the hug to take a good look at him.

He looks tired, unable to keep eye contact with you for too long without his eyes fluttering close for a few seconds and reopening, dark prominent circles underneath. It makes you frown seeing how tired your boyfriend is, knowing he’s giving it his all during his schedules on the limited amount of sleep he’s getting. 

You almost feel a little guilty for asking him to come over after his schedule was over, knowing deep down that he should’ve gone straight to the dorms to get some well needed rest. But you missed him, and you didn’t exactly want to miss his birthday

You move your one hand to cup his face, caressing his cheek with your thumb as you whisper, “Happy birthday”

Mark gives you a sluggish smile, “Thank you, baby” He presses his lips to yours in a kiss for a few seconds before he trails them down your throat and you smile at the loving touch, goosebumps trailing down your spine when you feel his hands dip underneath your shirt and the warmth of his palms on your lower back. 

He nips at your skin, causing your head to tilt to the side to give him more access and your lips curl into a grin when his hands slip downwards, fingers splayed across your ass and gripping gently to pull you closer to him.

“Are you tired?”

“Not really” Mark answers, but he doesn’t stop his movements, pulling you flush against him as he nips down harder on your skin. “A little, I don’t know”

“Why don’t we go to bed?” You suggest, trying to keep yourself calm and collected when you feel his mouth brush over the sensitive spot on your neck as he makes his way back up to your face, lips brushing over yours. “Let you rest for a while and we’ll celebrate your birthday tomorrow?”

“I’m not that tired” Mark tells you as he reconnects your lips and you sigh into the kiss, arms tightening around his shoulders. It’s sweet and soft, the slow movements of your mouths, but when you curl your hand at the nape of his neck, his mouth moves hungrily against yours.

His tongue slides over yours and his chest vibrates with a low moan, the grip on your ass tightening as he tries to pull you even close despite you being as close as you could possibly be. 

You allow him to do whatever he wants, your breath getting caught at the back of your throat when he sucks on your tongue, when he nibbles down on your bottom lip and pulls it, when he rubs his front against yours and you feel his hardened cock beneath his jeans.

“Mark” You call out his name as you break the kiss, staring at him and noticing how his eyes are still closed, his lips swollen and wet, breathing heavily from the lack of oxygen. You gently tug at his hair and he tiredly opens his eyes, finally looking back at you. “What do you want?”

“You” Mark answers, licking at his lips. “I want you. I need you. I’ve missed you”

You smile at his babbling and take his hand in your own, leading him towards your bedroom and he follows behind closely, hovering behind you as he drags his feet across the floorboards, squeezing your hand every so often. 

When you reach the bedroom, he’s already heading towards the bed as you close the door, dropping your hand to pop the buttons on his jeans and pull down the zipper, ridding himself of the clothing and stumbling over his own feet. 

He palms his cock over the front of his boxers and you almost drool at the sight, having not seen him in person like this for such a long time it makes your thighs clench together, watching as he rubs himself over the fabric as he looks at you, waiting for you.

“How do you want me?” You ask him quietly and he groans at the question, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“On your knees. Please” His plea makes a warmth spread through your chest and you smile, walking over to stand in front of him before slowly dropping down to your knees and looking up at him. He finds you so beautiful, so angelic with your pretty eyes staring at him and he becomes flustered for a moment, licking his lips nervously as he tugs his boxers down his legs, tensing under your touch when he feels your fingers ghost over his thighs.

His cock slaps against his stomach once freed completely and he wraps his hand around himself, pressing his lips together tightly when he taps the head of his cock against your lips, moaning softly as you stick out your tongue to get a taste. 

“Put it in your mouth” 

You don’t hesitate to do so, spitting on his cock for extra lubrication before taking him in your mouth, reeling at the groans that erupt from his chest as he drops his hand from his cock to rest it on top of your head. 

He doesn’t grab your hair, nor does he control your movements as he allows you to do as you please, taking him further into your mouth and swallowing around him, almost choking as his hips accidentally jerk forward and his cock thrusts down the back of your throat.

“Fuck” Mark curses between gritted teeth, neck straining as his head tilts back. 

The sounds he makes for you has your mind whirling with arousal, wanting nothing more than for him to cum down your throat, wanting to swallow every last drop he gives you. So you change your pace, bobbing your head faster on his cock and using your hand to pump the rest of him, the other fondling his balls which makes him whimper softly, thighs trembling at the touch. 

“You’re so good to me, you know…” He suddenly praises you under his breath, stroking the top of your head as he looks down at you. “My girl, yeah?”

You hum, the vibrations around his cock causing him to moan loudly and the grip on your head becomes a little tighter, holding you still as he lazily rolls his hips forwards and you do your best to swallow around him, trying your hardest not to gag on his size. 

“I’ve missed you, missed your mouth… pretty mouth” He whispers, licking at his lips as his hips begin to stutter, edging closer and closer to his orgasm and your chest swells with pride. “Baby, you’re going to make me cum if you keep looking at me like that”

“I want you to” You tell him as you pull your mouth off of his cock but continue jerking him off, smiling as he thrusts in your hand. “Cum on my tongue. You deserve it”

“Wait,” Mark’s fingers wrap around your wrist and you stop your movements, staring up at him confused as he breathes heavily. “Can I cum inside you? I want to cum inside you”

Your lips stretch into a smile as you nod, standing up from your kneeling position to quickly rid yourself of your clothes, dropping them carelessly to the floor as Mark lays across your bed, resting his head on the pillows as he stares at you tiredly with his hand outstretched.

You take it, allowing him to pull you on top of him and he moulds his lips with yours, craning his neck to kiss you deeper as you settle yourself above him, resting your thighs on either side of his hips and he lets go of your hand to grip the flesh of your thighs, squeezing the skin between his fingers before he trails behind you, grabbing at your ass desperately and you fight the urge to laugh, lining the head of his cock at your entrance. 

Breaking the kiss, your brows pinch together at the stretch, your palm flat on Mark’s chest as you ease yourself down on him and Mark gasps, mouth falling open as he draws in a sharp breath. 

“Fuck, Mark” You gasp once he fills you up completely, buried to the hilt and you would struggle to kep yourself upright if it wasn’t for Mark’s grip on your ass, squeezing you reassuringly and you begin to start rocking your hips.

There’s a crease in his brow as he furrows them, mouth ajar as moans and grunts spill from his lips, the tightness and warmth of your pussy making him unable to think straight and his fingers flex across your asscheeks, rolling his hips upwards to meet your thrusts, 

Your pussy pulses around him as his eyes meet yours, filled with love and adoration that would’ve made you start crying if you weren’t so horny and desperate to cum—and for him to cum inside you.

“Feels so good,” Mark tells you. “You don’t understand how much I’ve missed being inside you, baby… I’ve missed feeling you like this. Think about it all the time… It’s crazy how much I’m into you”

“I hope so” You smile, grinding your hips down and rubbing your clit against the smooth skin of his pelvis. “I’m crazy about you too”

“Makes me feel like one lucky guy” He dumbly grins up at you but it slips away in almost an instant when your walls clamp around his cock, and he curses under his breath, his hips fucking up into you faster. “Do you love me?”

“Always”

“Tell me you love me,” He begins to pant, hands moving from your ass to grab your hips, pressing his thumbs into your side. “Fuck—I’m gonna cum, baby… Tell me you love me”

You repeat the three words like a mantra as you rock your hips faster, your own orgasm building up and your voice starts to break, tears brimming in your eyes at the pace he fucks up into you and he whispers those three words back to you.

He’s filling you up in an instant, spurts of cum painting your walls white as your own orgasm washes through your thighs quivering around his frame and you struggle to keep yourself upright. He’s trembling beneath you, breathing heavily as his cock pulses, unable to control the jerking movements of his hips but gasps due to the sensitivity he feels. 

“Jesus Christ—fuck” Mark’s body goes limp, chest and cheeks flushed, hair sweaty and stuck to his forehead, eyes almost ready to give in and sleep. You even go to move yourself off of him when you see his tiredness kicking back in but he’s whining, tightening his grip on your waist. “Wait, no, baby. Stay”

“Stay?” You can’t help but laugh as you push his head out of his eyes, stroking his cheek affectionately. “We can’t stay like this”

“Please?” He asks again and you feel yourself crumble as you see his pleading eyes. “Just for a few minutes… I’m not ready to let go of my girl yet”

©mrkis

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