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#I don’t know how to tag a little Drabble like this lol
sugurustattoo · 4 days
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piggyback rides
synop: you want trueform!sukuna to give you a piggyback ride and he doesn’t know what it is. that’s it.
tags: fluffy fluff fluff, fem!reader (referred as woman once, refers to self as ‘queen’ and ‘wife’ once), ooc sukuna (only bc he’s less of an asshole), possessive behavior (kind of?), mentions of sukuna-typical violence, likely historically inaccurate, not proofread. i couldn’t determine whether or not he was actually wearing a haori or something similar - correct me if i’m wrong n i’ll change it!
notes: basic ass title ik... erm sorry! another post in two days is a miracle so i’m a little proud of myself. half-assed ending lol... anyway, this is just a silly lil drabble!! any interaction is much appreciated, enjoyyyy! :3
“what.”
the first set of crimson eyes dart down to look at you, the other set still tracking the scuttling servants. you’re situated quite snugly in his expansive lap — two thick arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into the warmth of his bare chest. “what the hell is that?”
you nibble the inside of your cheek to suppress a smirk. finally, you know something that sukuna does not! and it only took three years. “it’s where i get on your back and you carry me around. quite simple, truthfully.”
he snorts at the slight condescension in your voice. for something so agitating, you have quite the ego. “mm. and why should i do that for you? you can walk on your own, unless your legs are mysteriously broken all of a sudden.”
“because,” you say with a huff, “it’s fun. don’t you want to bond with your queen?”
anxious eyes of passing maids sneak glances at you, your little huff drawing their attention. sukuna shifts you in his lap, turning you to the side, and the massive sleeve of his robe moves to obscure your form from their undeserving gaze. “we have bonded enough.”
“and it would not hurt to bond some more!” you counter. sukuna’s stubbornness is something you absolutely adore about him, but not right now. “can the mighty king of curses not spare a moment of his day to entertain his wife’s wish?”
he falls silent at this, and you can practically see the gears churning in his big head. he’ll cave. if there’s one thing that’s undeniable about the sorcerer, it’s his curiosity.
“... fine,” he grunts. after scooping you up and setting you down, he stands up and gestures with his hand. “so how do we do it?”
your lips curve up into a smirk. “okay, turn around so that your back is facing me.”
sukuna turns around, folding one pair of arms over his chest.
“then, crouch down a little.”
a beat passes, and then he crouches down, back muscles flexing underneath the dark fabric of his haori.
you step up behind him and slide your arms around his neck. his adam’s apple bobs, and the other arms move to cradle your butt. “if this is an attempt to choke me, it isn’t work.”
he always thinks someone’s out to get him. you roll your eyes. “no. if i wanted to kill you, i likely would’ve attempted forever ago.” you lift your lower half onto the lower part of his back, and your legs wrap around his hips.
another beat passes. “is that it?”
“yep.”
sukuna adjusts you, his hold on you becoming more secure as he rights himself to his full height. the warmth of your breath ghosts across his ear, and he can smell the scented lotion you applied this morning.
why hadn’t he done this before?
“soooooo,” you drawl, and he can hear the smile in your beautiful voice without even having to look. you’re so close — he hears the little inhale before you speak, the nearly imperceptible huff of laughter once you finish. “what are you just standing here for? we gotta walk around, explore the estate! it’s not fun if we’re just stuck in one place.”
“i am not a servant,” he warns, voice gruff, but he starts to move towards the throne room’s exit anyway. anyone unfortunate enough bows, mutters a jumbled greeting to the both of you, and scrambles out of the way.
it’s no secret that sukuna is more... benevolent, when you’re around. but that is a double-edged sword — if someone dares to disturb your peace or inconvenience you in his presence, they’d be facing a swift death, along with their parents for giving birth to such vermin.
“apologies, my spectacular husband.” you lean forward a bit and press a kiss onto his cheek, leaving a faint lipstick stain. “now, please, venture forth.”
he rolls his eyes. “if you command me again, woman, i am going to sprint.”
the teasing lilt quickly disappears from your voice, and your arms tighten around his neck. “n-no, that isn’t necessary.”
sukuna’s pace increases, now a brisk jog instead of a leisure walk, and you can hear the gravel crunching beneath his feet. “oh? is it not?”
“it isn’t!” you squeak. a little embarrassing, yes, but you know how fast sukuna is — you’re positive that if he broke out into a full-speed run, you’d be sick by the end of it.
“let’s find out and see.”
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ririshotgf · 2 months
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mamas house (18+) — Ellie Willams x fem!reader Drabble
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a/n — sorry for any misspelling 🙏🏾🙏🏾
Ellie pulled your hair where to the point you to can only see the ceiling and the feeling of her deep and rough thrust, you felt you were going insane. her soft, but ruthless praises she whispered in your ear every two minutes. She pounded you non stop, you’re pretty sure your mom would hear what’s going on but Ellie told her you guys were just watching a “Adult movie” oh trust me, yall was making a movie alright..
”Shit, Ellie!” you whine, she let go of your hair so you can see how fucked out you looked in the mirror on the wall, “you like when you get fucked like this, hm?..” she groaned like she could feel your insides and your warmth. You arched your back some more, nearly like a cat, where to the point you could feel her sloppy thrust getting deeper and deeper. “You gonna’ come for me baby?” She said in a slow tone, “yess..” you whined in the middle of your moan. She had your hands held behind her back with one hand, “God, you’re so beautiful like this.”
The recoil of your behind bounced off her front, that tight knot twisted in your lower stomach area to signal you that you were close to your climax. Ellie made that feeling in your lower stomach even worser (better) by fucking you faster. You became louder and louder so Ellie had to cover your mouth. Tears slowly ran down your face from being so overstimulated, you couldn’t take it anymore, her thrusts were getting more dangerous by the minute, your legs shook intensely when you reached your climax. Luckily, you moaned loudly in her harm palms.
Ellie pulled out, causing a soft whimper to leave your sticky lips, leaving lipgloss on the side of your mouth and on Ellie’s palm. “damn, babe?” Ellie chuckled looking on her strap, and looking down at the mess you made. The big spreaded ring on her strap making her aroused. “what? What wrong?” .. you asked getting interrupted with putting back on your clothes.
“you don’t worry about it- why are you putting on your clothes..” you question, looking slightly confused, talking off the harness. “uhm…we have to leave soon. And we don’t have enough time els.” You continued to pull down your shirt. “Uh..no we will make time you’re not suppose to get dressed right after you have sex with somebody, that’s kind of nasty..don’t you think?” You sigh then took back off your shirt. “Get the bath ready then.” You say, flashing her a soft smile.
as soon as you began to walk to the bathroom the bedroom door knob went to twist open, like seriously? No knock. You ran to the bathroom quickly shutting the door behind you with Ellie with their silently laughing hysterically. She was laughing because of your face expression when you were rushing to the bathroom. “hey!” Your mom yelled your name. “We’re bout to leave soon hurry up- and where’s Ellie?” She asked. You hesitated to answer. “we’ll be out soon!” “Uh okay.” You giggled a little bit before she shut the door when she left. You peeked out of the bathroom door to make sure she was Actually gone.
*imma let y’all minds wonder for what happened next lol*
idk who to rlly tag fr for this . IM JUST TAGGING WHO I KNOW
@shurislover @pvnks0ul @s0lam33y @sw3etieari @vixentheplanet @sapphicvqmpires
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wonustars · 4 months
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𖠗 𓂃 。˚ ⋆𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘢𝘰, 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘉𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘗𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘳
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pairings: xu minghao x reader genre: one night stand, s2l (?), smut (mdni), drabble, *not proof read* word count: 1.3k words synopsys: on a whim, your friends dare you to get nipple piercings done at minghao's tattoo and piercing shop. inspired by: this minghao lip piercing vid
tags: bodypiercer/tattooartist!mingaho, touchstarved!reader, afab!reader, minghao has a lip and tongue piercing. smut tags/ warnings : nipple play, unprotected sex (plz do not do this w strangers lol), cream pie, fingering, pet names (sweetheart, baby), unrealistic portrayals of getting your nipples pierced.
likes, comments, reblogs are appreciated/encouraged ^-^
note: ...hi lol the amount of times i saw that video of mingaho... like i can't not just post a short fic about him being the person to do your first body piercing (?) djflajdfhkjahk . this is my first time posting something so short lol. this is just a lil something so i could take a small break from writing my scoups fic :>. lmk what u think!!! enjoy heeheh <;3
“You’re going to have to take off your shirt.” Minghao looks at you, a little unimpressed.
With doe eyes, you nod hesitantly. Laying down on the sterilized but soft piercing bed, your palms begin to sweat. The thought of the needles going through your sensitive nipples, twice, is causing you to second guess your friends’ dare. The adrenaline rush catching up with you, making you believe that you should’ve just asked for another option. Anything but this…, you chanted in your head.
Minghao puts his gloves on, glancing back at you to see what state you’re in, concluding that you’re at the stage of regret.
He prepares all his piercing instruments on a tray beside where you lay. As he takes his seat on the chair your pulse starts to pick up again. Thanking god that the tattoo shop had private rooms for piercings.
“Uh Miss. Your shirt?” He asks again, the needle now in his hands.
“Oh. Oh! Right sorry.” You chuckle uncomfortably, lifting up your baby tee. Your nipples now on full display for a complete stranger. An attractive stranger at that.
“You know you don’t have to do this.” He says nonchalantly as he tweaks your nipples. It causes your breath to hitch, the feeling his fingers on twisting you. You know it’s not in a sexual manner, but you feel a buzz rushing down to your core.
You can’t help but notice the way his tugs at his lip piercing, his tongue occasionally poking out of his mouth, allowing you to catch a glimpse of his tongue piercing.
“I-it’s too late now.” You stutter. Your answer comes out almost in a breathy moan but you quickly cover it up with a cough.
“Hm. Not really. I can see how scared you are.” Minghao shrugs.
He notices the way your thighs squeeze together. He smirks inwardly, the fact that you’re getting turned on during a piercing is intriguing to him.
“Well I can’t just back out now.” You whine, Minghao continues to prod at your nipples. Trying to find the perfect place to strike the needle through. He finally picks up on the effect he has on you.
“You’re quite a dirty girl aren’t you?” He chuckles, staring into your eyes.
You freeze at his words, the seriousness in his gaze indicating he isn’t joking around.
“W-what the fuck? Why would you even say that?”
“Because I know that pussy of yours is dripping right now.” He smirks.
You’re utterly baffled, your mouth opening and closing but you can’t seem to answer him. He isn’t even wrong, you’re so turned on just from him playing with your nipples.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about” You huff, the blush on your cheeks running down to your neck.
You do know though, because you can feel your panties begin to stick to your pussy lips.
Minghao puts down his piercing instruments and takes off his gloves, standing up from his chair to tower over your laying body. His hand trailing up your inner thigh, it surprises you enough that you let out a soft whimper. Minghao only smirks at your reaction.
He isn’t the type to fuck a client, but the way your doe eyes looked at him as he tried to find the sweet spot on your sensitive buds turned him on. He knew right at that moment that he was going to pierce you in more than one place, except the second time wasn’t going to be with a needle.
As his long fingers ascend up your thigh, he finally reaches the heat between your legs. His movements causing your skirt to hike up your body.
“Naughty naughty girl…” He mutters as he feels for the dampness on your underwear.
If he weren’t so damn hot, you really wouldn’t be feeling this way. But it was something about his dark hair and the way his tongue played with his lip piercing, it was hypnotizing to say the least.
“Hmmph please,” You let out a wanton sigh, your eyebrows scrunching.
His fingers rub your throbbing clit through the fabric of your underwear. His movements precise due to his years of experience tattooing and piercing people.
“What do you want sweetheart?” He coos.
Minghaos fingers move your panties to the side, letting the pads of fingers glide against your cunt. Rubbing circles on your puffed bud, he begins to kiss up your exposed upper half. His wet kisses and lip piercing leaving a hot and cold tingling against your searing skin.
“Y-your fingers. Please.” You beg him, gripping onto the forearm that’s playing with your sopping core.
He doesn’t say anything more. Giving into your request, he places two fingers into your fluttering hole. You moan loudly, feeling the sensation of his long digits filling you.
“You’re fucking soaking baby” He groans, imagining how tight you’re going to feel on his cock.
Minghao cant wait. He wants to know what it feels like to be inside you.
Pulling down his pants and boxers, he frees his hard length. Sighing at how unrestricted he is.
You lift your back off the piercing bed, leaning back with your arms supporting you. You create space for him, spreading your legs to let Minghao slip between them. Your panties stay pushed to the side, skirt hiked around your hips, and your shirt pulled up past your heavy breasts.
Minghao takes you in, seeing how sexy you look exposed for him.
“Tell me what you want me to do.” He demands, voice unwavering. It sends a shiver up your spine, loving how dominant he is.
“Want your cock please.” You whine, spreading your legs further.
He shakes his head and laughs softly, moving closer to fill in the space between you two. His lips touching yours, surprisingly soft. His tongue enters your mouth quickly, and your whimper at how his tongue piercing feels against your wet mouth.
You wrap your hands around his neck, legs around his waist. He long member poking at your entrance, teasing you. It bumps against your clit slightly, so much so that you being to lose patience.
Taking matters into your own hands, you grab his dick, pumping it a few times before leading it into your entrance. Minghao follows your actions, moving his hips forward to finally sheath himself in your warmth.
You both moan at the sudden intrustion, your mouths open, tongues playing with each other as he begins to pump himself in you.
A salacious moan leaves your lips, you throw your head back as his long hardness fill you completely, bumping into your cervix ever so slightly.
Minghao grips on your thighs harshly, completely feeling the ridges of your hot pussy. You’re completely sucking him in and he can’t get enough. The noise of your wet cunt being fucked by him is sending him closer to his orgasm by the second. he can’t help but move faster, just to hear the way his skin slaps against yours.
He only speeds up as time passes, causing your juices to leak onto the leather beneath you. Minghao dares to look down between you two, seeing the way his thick cock is splitting you open.
“F-fuck! ‘M gonna come” You exclaim, gripping onto his biceps.
“Come for me baby.” He mutters, thrusting in and out of you like no tomorrow.
You finally let go the second he takes one of his hand to rub your clit, tipping you over the edge with a stroke of his thumb. Your pussy clenches hard against him, sending him into his own release.
“Wanna cream you baby” He says in pants, you can only nod, already feeling over stimulated.
He takes that as permission to release his hot load into you.
Still continuing to rut his hips into yours, he rides out his high. The sight of his seed spilling past your lips and forming a white ring on his cock is enough to make him hard again.
To your dismay he pulls out, grabbing a paper towel to wipe his release off your thighs.
“So how about that piercing?” You ask with a shy smile, chest still heaving up and down from your previous ministrations.
© wonustars
𖠗 𓂃 。˚ ⋆
general taglist: @christinewithluv @soonyoonswoo
a/n: thank you for reading! if there’s any typos/mistakes/missing tags lmk! likes, comments, reblogs, and feedback are always appreciated. have a question, thought, or request? leave it in my ask box. mwah <;3
- anna!!
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irisintheafterglow · 9 months
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You Are In Love (Gojo Satoru x You)
summary: you can't stop dreaming about him, and your friends start to notice a change in your behavior. (2.4k words)
cw/tags: mild angst to comfort, friends to lovers, pining, idiots in love, profanity, elder sorcerers being assholes, pet names (doll, gorgeous, etc), uhh gojo loses his cool and blows up a building lol, kissing, one instance of foreshadowing manga spoilers but only if you squint
note: HELLOO GOJO NATION. ok so i'll be so honest with you, this stupid man was my #1 for so long and i think those feelings resurfaced so i got a little carried away with writing this (it's my longest fic so far, my bad). but yk something about gojo, hawks, and kuroo all being played by the voice actor just gets me. the prompt for this is from the AMAZING @creativepromptsforwriting and was supposed to be a drabble but turned into a full fic. anyways, hope you enjoy it!!
likes/reblogs/feedback are always appreciated!
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“It’s too quiet. Can I tell you guys a joke I heard on TV?”
“Mmm, please don’t.”
“But it’s funny!”
“Satoru.”
“Ooh, using my first name. Something’s up with you.”
“Something is not up with me, weirdo.” 
“No, something is definitely off with you today.” You thought Suguru and Shoko had stopped listening, but they chimed in with evidence of your odd behavior.
“You said good morning differently,” Shoko added, casually taking a sip of her soda and peering at you over the rim. Her hair sways gently in the breeze outside of the convenience store you four had stopped at before heading back to Jujutsu Tech. You glare at her and open your mouth to defend yourself when Suguru adds his two cents. 
“You tripped up during that last mission that should have been a cakewalk,” which was true, but you thought your mistake had gone unnoticed. The truth was, the spirit had caught you off guard with a simple teleport trick. It warped behind you and unlatched its grotesque jaws to end your life faster than you could blink. You should have been able to predict the movement with your eyes closed, but you’d been too focused on making sure a certain white-haired sorcerer was alive after your group had been ambushed several hundred feet underground. Suguru had given you a curious look after one of his demons saved your ass, and you’d flipped him off hoping that would be the end of it. “And you also flipped me the bird instead of saying thank you,” he shrugged.
“You also finish your food the fastest out of all of us, and today you haven’t even taken three bites,” Shoko says, finishing her drink and standing to toss it in the trash bin. “Something’s going on with you, and I, for one, am incredibly curious as to why.” Satoru watches you with a smug glint in his eye, and it takes all your willpower not to strangle him. 
“As glad as I am to know that you all pay such great attention to my habits, I promise there’s nothing wrong.” The three of them stare at you skeptically but thankfully decided to drop the subject, instead pivoting to who’s most likely to go to jail first (it’s Gojo). 
After the late lunch, you begin the walk back to Jujutsu Tech as the sky transforms into faded shades of orange and pink. The vanishing sun casts shining reflections on the surrounding skyscrapers, bouncing off the windows of speeding cars and zooming trains. Satoru and Suguru walk ahead, playfully shoving each other and almost falling over doing so. 
“Alright, are you gonna tell me what’s going on now that Dumb and Dumber aren’t here?” Shoko asks as she falls into step with you. The sides of your mouth turn down, realizing that she didn’t forget about your conversation at lunch. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell your closest friends what was going on; you just didn’t know how to explain what you had dreamed about the previous night and the night before that, and all the nights the past two weeks. 
It began with a look he had given you after a meeting with some higher-ups in the sorcerer world. They had visited Jujutsu Tech unexpectedly, stating that they would be evaluating the skill levels of random students. Out of your group of friends, only you and Satoru had been pulled to be tested. Principal Yaga had instructed both of you before entering the room to give the evaluation your best effort and to not become indignant if they judged you poorly. 
The brass declared your evaluation to be first, and you poured all of your energy into showcasing the power of your Cursed Technique. You even managed to pull off a few strikes of extension techniques that you’d been perfecting for months. Though the entire performance lasted less than ten minutes, you were breathless and light-headed when the panel told you to stop. After bowing deeply, you moved to exit the room, desperate for fresh air, but they stopped you and began listing every single reason why your demonstration was unsatisfactory. Besides “inefficient technique, predictable attacks, weak offense, insufficient defense,” and a general lack of power compared to that of other sorcerers at your level, they informed you that your Cursed Technique was obsolete and would eventually render you useless as more innately talented sorcerers take your place. You were speechless at their blunt criticism of your effort, on the verge of breaking down, but you managed to nod in acknowledgment as you stepped out of the room.
But then you saw him sitting there, waiting on his phone and looking up at you with a bright smile as he stood to greet you. A confusing blend of disappointment, anger, sadness, and loneliness panged in your heart and spread to the rest of your body, and you rapidly tried to blink away the moisture welling up in your eyes while Satoru approached. He was halfway through a snarky remark about you blowing away their expectations when his smile dropped and his eyebrows furrowed with concern. Shit, he’d noticed you crying. 
“Hey, hey, hey, look at me. What the fuck did they do to you?” Dashing blue eyes found yours through the clouds in your vision, and his thumbs gently brushed away stray tears that escaped down your cheeks. 
“Do you think I’m weak, Satoru?” Your voice cracks when the words finally spill out, swallowing hard to push down the sobs threatening to break loose from your constricted lungs. Satoru freezes, eyes searching yours. He doesn’t answer your question immediately, but instead asks again. 
“Doll, what the fuck did they do.” You can’t get a reply out in time before his focus snaps up to behind you, and a second later you hear the door roll open, one of the officials commanding Satoru to enter for his evaluation. His large hands hold your face and turn you to look up at him, and you move unconsciously to cover his hands with yours. “Stay here for me, okay?” He glanced at the official waiting in the doorway, blue eyes dark with suppressed rage. “This won’t take long.”
His evaluation lasts two minutes and four seconds. At first, the room was silent and you couldn’t hear any demonstration of Satoru’s technique, almost as if the panel was having a conversation with him before they began. Then, at two minutes on the dot, the room was blown to splinters. The door, the ceiling, the porch, and all of the furniture inside were violently thrown outward in an explosion that made the ground beneath your feet tremble. Curiously, none of the debris had hit you, but you coughed through the dust and saw that the panel hadn’t been so lucky, all of them buried under shredded beams of wood and canvas. And, standing at the center of the room’s remains with a satisfied grin plastered on his beautiful face, was Satoru. He found his way over to where you stood in disbelief and took your hand in his, interweaving your fingers and guiding you away from the ruined building. 
You two walked hand-in-hand in silence back to your dorm, where he seemed reluctant to let go of your hand. Before he walked away, he finally answered your question from earlier. 
“I tell you this not just as your friend, but as another sorcerer. You are not weak. Your technique is special and something that those shithead elders haven’t seen in decades, and they don’t like what they don’t understand. I know the thought of leaving Jujutsu Tech crossed your pretty little mind, but you shouldn’t. People need you here, Shoko, Suguru, Mei Mei...” He hesitated, taking a shallow breath and reaching back for your hand. 
“Me,” he said, his voice low, and his voice got even softer until it was almost a breath. “I need you here.” As quickly as the fondness in his voice appeared, it disappeared. “And, plus, you definitely can’t leave us here with ol’ Yaga. What the hell am I gonna do if I can’t hide in your room while he’s trying to beat my ass?” 
You laugh, and the feeling makes you feel better. He makes you feel better. You smile back at him and finally bid him farewell, and he raises your hand to his lips as he says goodbye. 
After that, he’d appeared in your dreams for two weeks straight. The dreams started as a continuation of what would have happened if you didn’t just say goodbye to him, if you’d invited him into your dorm, or if you’d let him pull you into his. They transformed after the fourth day into what it would be like to love him and receive his love in return: stolen kisses, flirty whispers, and movie dates to name a few. All these dreams added up to the previous night’s nightmare, where a mission had gone bad and he’d been imprisoned with no hope of breaking him free. You’d startled awake covered in sweat, and barely fell back asleep before your alarm forced you to start the day. 
“It’s… hard to explain,” you reply apologetically, and Shoko looks at you with so much skepticism written on her face that you have to turn away and look in the other direction. 
“So something is bothering you.” 
“Yeah, there is. I’m sorry; it’s just really, really hard to verbalize.”
“Can I take a stab at what’s bothering you?”
“If you could actually stab it that’d be great, but sure. Knock yourself out.”
“It’s Satoru, isn’t it?” You stop mid-stride and her face lights up with amusement. “Holy shit, it’s Satoru. You like Gojo Satoru.”
“Jeez, Shoko, go ahead and say his name four hundred million times, why don’t you? But really, what tipped you off?”
“Ten seconds ago when you asked me to stab your problem, I figured it out,” she chuckles, bumping her shoulder against yours playfully. “If it’s any consolation, I’m 99% sure he’s felt that way about you for a while.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“How do you know?”
“Would you let me off the hook if I said it was hard to explain?”
“Har, har, very funny. Could you at least try?” 
“Mmm, I think it’s better if he explains it himself.” 
“You’re no help, Shoko.”
“Yes, and you love me anyway. But not as much as you love Sa–” You groan, covering your burning face in both hands and increasing the speed of your steps to escape your friend’s teasing chuckles. 
When you finally arrive at school, the stars have started rising and the moon hangs in the sky. You walk in the direction of the dorms when Shoko suddenly unlinks her elbow from yours, winking at you over your shoulder. 
“Suguru, can you help me move something from the gym real quick? I forgot a few things over there.” 
“Sure, but why do you need my help?” Shoko gives him a pointed look and realization quickly washes over his features. “Oh, OH. Okay, of course, sure.” Suguru turns on his heel awkwardly, briskly walking in the direction of the gym.
“Satoru, walk them back to their dorm. Don’t want anything happening to them after their little slip today,” she adds before heading in the other direction with Suguru, who tries and fails to communicate something to Satoru with a nod of his head. 
“Alright, pretty girl, you heard Shoko. C’mere and let me walk you home before she beats my ass.”
“I think you have too many people on this planet that want to beat your ass. And, for the record, I’m one of them.”
“It’s the price of being this gorgeous, gorgeous.” A soft laugh escapes your mouth, and you swear Satoru’s smile gets a little wider. The rest of the short walk to your dorm is just as easy and comfortable, Satoru making stupid comments and you replying with a quick remark over and over until you’re back in the same situation you’d been in two weeks ago. But, this time, you realized that Satoru was a lot closer to you, leaning back against your door with your hand touching the handle but not opening it. You both spend a few moments there, just looking at each other, and his mesmerizing eyes flicker to your mouth when you unconsciously lick your lips. He opens his mouth to say something smart, but you beat him to it. 
“If you’re gonna look down at my lips and say something stupid about it, you might as well do what I’ve been wanting you to do for ages.” 
“Oh? And what’s that, pretty girl?”
You sigh in mock disappointment and look up at him through your eyelashes. “If you don’t know what it is by now, then I guess… you don’t deserve to do it.” His pupils are blown wide with desire, and you resist the impulse to laugh. 
“God, you’re intoxicating,” he says, before pressing his lips to yours. Your eyes flutter shut and you melt into him, arms snaking around his neck while his hands find your waist and hold you up from your knees that have turned to jelly. The first kiss is gentle and experimental, but having the flirtiest asshole in the country chasing your lips as you briefly pull away gives you a newfound wave of confidence, pulling him closer and closer until his body is flush against yours. When you finally pull away from each other and catch your breath, he doesn’t go very far, resting his forehead against yours. 
“You know, I wanted to kill them. Those wrinkly assholes two weeks ago that had the gall to call you weak. And I would have, you know I would have, but you were outside… and you were crying… I just didn’t know what to do. I saw red, and, uh, then the building exploded.” You chuckle at his confession and he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, rubbing his nose against yours. 
“I had a dream about you. Well, a lot of dreams.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Really?”
“Mhmm. Got a little nervous today when I heard you talk with Shoko about liking a boy, but it helps knowing now that the boy is me. And, hopefully, it will only ever be me.”
“You pretentious asshole.”
“You know it.”
“You’re a dork.”
“Yeah, but I’m your dork.” 
“I know you are.”
“And I’m never going anywhere.” He kisses your forehead sweetly, and it’s just like the dreams that had plagued you for weeks before. “Ever.”
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if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)
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ejlovespie · 2 years
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You're Mine
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Pairing: Damon Salvatore x fem!reader
Summary: Your boyfriend catches you flirting with a guy at the bar. Feeling jealous and possessive, he punishes you in bed. 
Words: 1.7K
Warnings / Tags: 18+ NSFW / possessive & jealous dom!damon / bratty reader / sir kink / praise kink / tied up reader / spanking / orgasm denial / oral (fem receiving) / reader crying & feeling emotional from overstimulation  / fingering / unprotected p in v sex / aftercare / fluff 
A/N: I wrote this for @evergreencowboy for my drabble game! It went a little long..I'm sensing a theme here lol. Anyway, thank you for always being my cheerleader and supporting me, Lyd. I appreciate you so so much and love you dearly! I really hope you like this fic with Damon. XOXO -EJ 
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Damon is pissed and the thought brings a careless smirk to your face. Eyes wide, you quickly attempt to hide it by bringing a hand to your mouth. He catches it though and narrows his eyes on you darkly. You know he’s menacing, a big and scary vampire, a terrifying monster..but despite that a giggle bubbles up your throat and sneaks past your lips. Shit. Damon fully turns to look at you now. His eyes narrow further and his jaw flexes as he grinds his teeth. Knowing it won’t make any difference, you take a small step back as sweat forms on the back of your neck and a dizzying spike of adrenaline shoots through your veins. Damon lunges for you faster than your human eyes can comprehend. In one fluid motion he picks you up, throws you over his shoulder, races upstairs to his bedroom, and dumps you unceremoniously onto his plush bed.
Blowing hair out of your face, you look up at him wide-eyed and try to hold back a fit of manic giggles. He actually growls at you as you begin to laugh so hard that tears form in your eyes. Normally, Damon would smile with you and tell you how beautiful you look in his bed. He loves seeing your soft eyes shine with mirth but not right now. He’s so mad at you, he can barely see straight. 
Frustrated, Damon bites out, “Y/N. Stop. Laughing.”       
Crossing muscled arms over his chest, he glares at you murderously. Your stomach muscles ache as tears begin to stream down your face. Knowing you’ve crossed a line, you try, unsuccessfully, to stop laughing and explain yourself through giggles. “I–I’m sorry Damon!” You hold your stomach as it starts to cramp. Laughing through tears, “It was a joke, I swear! I don’t know that guy.” 
Wiping tears away, you breathe through the stomach cramps as Damon grinds his teeth and says nothing in response. You had wanted to rile him up a little but really didn’t think he would get this mad. The Grill was so busy that getting drinks at the bar had been impossible, so when a cute guy bought you one, and gave it to you with a wink, you accepted it. You honestly didn’t mean anything when you put a hand on his arm and leaned in to thank him. You were just grateful. At least, that’s what you told yourself. You didn’t acknowledge the part of you deep down that knew your vampire boyfriend was sure to notice and have something to say about it. However, Damon was way more pissed than you thought he would be. When you returned back to the table with your drink, he had taken it, put it down, and dragged you home. 
In a barely controlled voice Damon growls, “Turn over.” and suddenly, you’re not laughing anymore. 
Your heart picks up speed knowing what’s about to happen. You wait, a second too long, and Damon is on you, speeding to your side and flipping you onto your belly. Your cheek rests against the soft sheets as Damon pulls rope from somewhere you can’t see. You take a deep, calming breath as he grabs your wrists and deftly ties them together before pulling you up to the headboard. He ties your wrists to the bed and gives it a tug, testing the knots before stepping away. Turning your head to watch him, you follow his movements as he walks over to the mini bar in the corner of the room and pours himself a drink. You swallow thickly as he shoots back three fingers of bourbon before quickly pouring himself a second glass. Oh boy…You’ve done it this time. 
Damon’s shoulders are tense, his whole body rigid as he drinks the second glass more slowly. He shakes his head as he finishes it before turning around to look at you. His dark eyes move over your body, tied up and splayed out on his bed. He wishes you were there under different circumstances, wishes he could give you more pleasure than pain, but you were naughty. You flirted with some asshole just to get a rise out of him. Sighing, Damon sets the glass down and saunters over to you. He eyes your ass and debates how many times he’s going to have to spank you. Sitting down on the bed he runs a palm over your rear. You make a small sound in your throat but he ignores it. You’re excited. Happy for this outcome. You’re always testing his patience, getting into trouble and pushing his buttons to see what you could get away with. Brat.
Softly, Damon says, “You know I have to punish you.” You nod, saying nothing, but that's not what he wants to hear and you know better. Exasperated, Damon bites out, “Excuse me?” 
You whimper slightly and whisper, “Yes, sir.” He palms your ass before continuing, ”I would have preferred to worship your body and have fun tonight…but you had to test me. Again. Why are you always getting into trouble and making me punish you, Y/N?”
Your response dies on your throat and you yelp as Damon’s hand comes down hard on your right ass cheek. Your pussy throbs as Damon growls, “Answer. Me.” Breathless, you respond, “I–I don’t know, sir!” 
It takes everything in you not to moan when Damon yanks down your pants and panties in one motion before delivering another hard spank, this time to your left cheek. Your lips tremble as he rubs a hand over the area, soothing the sting before delivering another blow to the right one. Unable to hold back, you moan softly in response, earning another hard spank. Your ass stings and your body tightens as Damon scolds you. “I guess spanking you isn’t much of a punishment with how much you enjoy it. Let’s try something else.” 
You hold your breath as Damon deftly unties you from the headboard, flips you onto your back, and secures your bound wrists to the headboard again. Then he pulls your legs wide open and quickly ties an ankle to each corner of the footboard. Cool air hits your exposed pussy and you fidget as Damon crawls onto the bed in between your legs. He rubs his hands over your thighs, eyeing your dripping center. His eyes light up, pleased, but he tisks at you, chiding, “You're dripping wet for me and all I've done is spank you. Very bad girl.” 
You pull at your restraints, loving being tied up but also wanting to touch him. It was an exhilarating kind of torture. You wondered what Damon would do next as he stared at you for a long moment. Your heartbeat thudded violently in your chest and you knew he could hear it. Looking into your eyes Damon says, “I know you’re excited but you shouldn’t be..” 
Opening your mouth to argue, the words die on your lips as Damon leans in and presses his tongue to your clit. Your back arches off the bed as it circles your clit a few times before moving to tease your folds. Bringing a hand up, he rests it on your abdomen pushing down lightly to apply pressure as his mouth works you over. You whine as he dips his tongue into your pussy and lickes you slowly, applying more pressure as your muscles flex around him inside you. He pulls out and flattens his tongue to lick a long, slow stripe up to your clit before wrapping his lips around you. Damon groans and you watch him as he kisses and sucks on you. You thrash on the bed, pulling at your restraints and he works you over and over again, pulling you to the edge before backing off. It’s torture. You’re close, needing to cum so bad but he won’t let you. 
You don’t know how much time passes as Damon teases you but it feels like hours. He sucks and flicks your clit with his tongue until you get close and then he moves his tongue down to tease and play with you until your climax fizzles out. Frustrated tears spring to your eyes and you beg to cum, apologize over and over again but he doesn’t listen. When Damon’s eyes meet yours and he slides a long finger inside of you, you about lose it. Tears streaming down your face you beg again, “Dam–Sir, please let me cum. I–I’m sorry. I went too far, I knew you would be mad and I–I hoped for this but I can’t...th–this is too much. Pl–lease!” 
Unable to see you cry anymore, Damon pulls back and eyes you darkly. “If you want me to tie you up and spank you, tell me. Stop behaving like a little brat to get your way or next time I won’t stop. Oh, and if you ever flirt with some frat-boy-douche again, I'll kill ‘em. You’re mine, now and forever. Mine. Do you understand?” 
Crying, you nod trying to breathe through your tears and the emotions running rampant through you. Damon growls, demanding, “Use your words, Y/N. Do. You. Understand?”
Gasping for breath, you cry, “Y–yes, sir! I understand..please, Damon!” Damon murmurs a praise before crawling towards you on the bed. Bringing his hands to your face, he cups your cheeks and wipes at the tears, shushing and calming you until your breathing goes back to normal and you’re no longer crying. “Okay..shh. That’s a good girl..It’s okay, princess. I’m going to take care of you.”
Looking into Damon’s eyes, you nod, grateful he changed his mind. Damon smiles before slipping off the bed and makes quick work of stripping out of his clothes and climbing back up between your legs. He kisses your neck and face tenderly in a silent apology for making you cry while he slowly slides himself into you. You both moan as he bottoms out and then pulls out and pushes back in slowly, adjusting his angle until he hits the spot inside you where you’re most sensitive. Murmuring soft praises in your ear, Damon reaches down and gently swipes at your swollen clit. With how on edge you were, it doesn’t take long before you’re cuming hard and crying again. Unable to see you cry, Damon pulls out and unties the rope at your wrists and ankles before settling you against his chest. Resting your head on his chest, you relish the feeling of him holding you as he wipes your tears away and you fall asleep to him telling you how much he loves you.
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TVD Tags: @haroldpotterson @123cxcv @bloodyprincess22 @Kyn-lyn-blog @vidusaur @veethewriter @shabzy96 @Leigh70 @navs-bhat @stefans-wife @akshi8278 @makeadealwithdean @cuddlyklaus @salemlovespies @katelyn--renee @the_doubtful_writer @wanniiieeee @enchantedblackrose @queenclaudiabrown @deangirl93
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kiwiana-writes · 2 months
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Six(ish) Sentence Sunday
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Thanks for the tag @hgejfmw-hgejhsf and @onthewaytosomewhere - it's always nice when I'm not kicking the week off lmao. I didn't get a lot of writing done this week because I was busy editing the Going Platinum podfic I posted today, but I've powered through so I have something to share!
Rockstar Alex is now officially fully epistolary, because I figured out how to get #3 from the five fun facts game into a fully epistolary format. If you are thinking to yourself, "Great! If it's fully epistolary then it can't hurt as much!" I would advise you to turn to your nearest Schitt's Creek fandom buddy who has read my fics in that fandom and ask them how they feel about chapter 5 of Meet me out at the end of my rope (aka angstapalooza), and calibrate accordingly 😈
SO. Below the cut is a little sneak peek of this with the skin on (and some bonus Reddit comments because when I go epistolary I go balls to the wall), but if you don't want to venture under the cut, enjoy the text version of an r/TIFU post:
TIFU by breaking my no-hookup rule Obligatory ‘this didn’t happen today’ but my friends are still making fun of me days later, so. I’m not a hookup/cruising kind of gay. Full respect to you if you are, it’s just never been my thing - I’m more of a serial monogamist type But it was my friend’s birthday last weekend and we all went out to a gay bar, and I ended up dancing with this guy who… honestly if I describe how off the charts hot he was you wouldn’t believe me anyway, so you’ll just have to trust me on this. He was there with a friend and the friend bought us a few rounds of vodka shots before fucking off somewhere, so me and this guy went back to dancing. And then the dancing was grinding, and then we were making out for a bit before he said he was gonna go to the bathroom with THAT head tilt. You know the one. Even my no-hookups ass knows the one. And yeah, I don’t do hookups, but fuck it. I said yes (I really cannot express how hot this guy was lol) and followed him to the bathroom. I won’t get into all the details but suffice to say getting blown by this dude was a religious experience. I’m just getting to the point of no return when he pulls back all of a sudden. And he’s got tears in his eyes, but I just thought it was from like… well, you know… but then he STOOD UP. I was like “what the fuck dude” and he just started APOLOGIZING, saying something about the song????? I hadn’t been paying attention tbh, I was a bit busy having my brains sucked out through my dick, but this guy just muttered something about the song and his ex and then he LEFT ME in the fucking club bathroom, dick bobbing in the wind. I think I’m back to no hookups from now on tbh. TL;DR: first ever hookup ended with a stranger literally sobbing his way off my dick, and ACD’s new song is a banger, but I’ll probably never be able to hear it without thinking of the worst case of blue balls I’ve ever had.
Forever feeling feral for whatever y'all are up to, so tagging @affectionatelyrs @anchoredarchangel @anincompletelist @blairwaldcrf @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @cultofsappho @daisymae-12 @dumbpeachjuice @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @matherines @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @notspecialbabe @orchidscript @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27 @sparklepocalypse @ssmtskw @stereopticons @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)
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lovelyhan · 7 months
Note
SVT HARD HOUR
Maybe a SVT member and their partner are in a relationship where the rest of the members (and the world) thinks the SVT member is the lead in the relationship but in reality their partner is.
Like it’s really important for him to be seen as the lead so she let’s him be seen as it.
Partner is normally really relaxed about the teasing but one day he takes it too far where she whispered that if he keeps this up, he not gonna like where it’s heading.
He keeps pushing so the members learn who is really the lead.
Hahaha this was a lot more detailed then what I meant. I don’t really have a member in mind. I am gonna be happy with whoever you choose.
Sooo, have fun writing ✍️
@hwanghyunjinenthusiast also asked: Because I love you <3 Also going to try to switch it up lol.
Consider edging Mingyu. You know he'd get all whiney and desperately try to buck his hips up into you when you stay completely still on top of him. Massive hands needily grabbing at your hips. In an attempt to steady himself or encourage you to move, you're not sure.
It'd be so cute how teary-eyed he'd be. His big cock twitching inside of you incessantly but, he'd try his best to hold on. Because he wants to be good for you.
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NEEDY — MINGYU
surprise surprise <3 i'm sifting through my inbox for old requests that have been gathering dust since may!! i've been missing mingyu a lot these days so here's a quick drabble :3c
tags: f!reader, sub!mingyu, smut (MINORS DNI)
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"is it really such a big deal for you to be the one that calls the shots, gyu?"
a whine is caught in the back of your boyfriend's throat as you drag your finger across the swell of his adam's apple, pinning him in place with a disgruntled stare.
mingyu knows he's been a little...over the top today — making a show of bossing you around just to fool his friends into thinking he's the one that runs this relationship, or whatever bullshit patriarchal nonsense he's got brewing inside his head. normally, you would've played along with his need to be seen as anyone but the big pouty man-puppy he actually is.
however, after making a snide comment that made every one of the boys stare at you warily as if waiting for a violent reaction, you decide that you've had enough of mingyu's big scary dom roleplay.
"i'm better off making dinner for you in the kitchen, huh?" you narrow your eyes, forcing mingyu's chin up as you clench around his aching cock. "now what made you think that, gyu? did you really mean what you said? because i'll be really upset if you did."
"n-no, baby, i was just fooling around," mingyu pleads, large hands digging into your hips as he forces himself not to buck up into the warmth of your cunt. "you know the guys tease me enough as it is, so i was just trying to —"
"be a sexist little shit to your girlfriend?" you finish the rest of the sentence with a disappointed huff. "i know you were just trying to get the guys off your back, but i expected more from you, gyu.
"after all, we both know just how needy you are when i'm the one calling the shots."
he sniffles, tears glistening in his eyes. it's almost adorable. "i'm sorry, baby, i —"
the noise that rumbles in his chest is caught between a groan and a whimper when you lift yourself up on his lap before slamming back down with more force than you typically do. despite the frustration rolling off of you in waves, your boyfriend's big cock still does the job in stemming your irritation from his earlier antics, and with how eager mingyu is to be good for you, you suppose you can forgive him.
that doesn't mean you'll make things any easier for him though.
"if you're really sorry, you'll sit there like a good boy while i get myself off," you coo before establishing a languid pace — riding your boyfriend as you press your foreheads together while you drill every word into his head. "my puppy can do something as simple as that, right?"
"yes. i promise — i promise i'll be good," mingyu mewls adorably, the muscles of his thighs tensing from the sheer effort he's exerting to stay still. "f-fuck, your pussy's so warm, baby."
"i didn't give you permission to start running your mouth, now did i?"
it's hard to miss how his cock twitches inside you — clearly enjoying the way you put him in his place no matter how much he tells his friends otherwise. you simper before leaning down to nip at his lobe, purposely moaning into his ear as you repeatedly slam your hips back down on his.
"i'd tell you that your huge cock is all you're good for but i won't. you know why, gyu?" you whisper as you try not to lose yourself to the delicious stretch of his girth. "that's because i fucking love you. so i suggest — ah, fuck — for you to choose your words carefully next time. got it, puppy?"
despite sounding more and more breathless with each passing second, mingyu thinks it's hot that you're lecturing him while you fuck him into incoherence. he decides then and there that he doesn't give a shit if his friends find out how submissive he actually is — both in the bedroom and your relationship in general.
your big, beefy boyfriend is powerless against you after all.
"'m so close," mingyu sighs as you start kissing down his neck, nimble fingers gliding across his nipples for added stimulus. "wanna cum inside you, baby... can i?"
you don't respond right away — too caught up in chasing after your own pleasure to give him another thought. but mingyu doesn't mind because fuck. you look so sexy like this, tits bouncing with every downward stroke as his big cock batters your cunt.
but just when he's about to feel his orgasm boil over, you lift yourself off your boyfriend's cock. this earns you a desperate whine in protest from mingyu which you promptly shut up by tipping him backwards, forcing him flat on his back before positioning your sopping pussy over his face.
"you think you deserve it after that stunt you pulled?" you chuckle darkly, delighting in the way mingyu's big arms automatically wrap themselves around your thighs to hold you in place. "make me come on your face first, puppy. then i'll think about whether or not i want you to finish inside me tonight."
you'll let him. you'll always let him.
but the fun thing about being with mingyu is that he never really backs down from a challenge.
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margowritesthings · 1 year
Text
What’s Mine Is Mine
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pairing: lh!Arthur Morgan x fem!reader
word count: 1159
warnings: possessive Arthur, spit kink, low honour Arthur, shameless filth, very suggestive, mentions of sex
moodboard
a/n: i simply Cannot Write Drabbles... thank you so much @elifsukirdaghehe for the spit kink request and anon for the low honour Arthur request! I hope this lives up to your expectations! This is very heavily inspired by this bc its one of the hottest things ive ever seen lol
also click the link at the end for a wonderful surprise and say thank you to @cowboydisaster
tagging: @cowboydisaster @cassidylynnj
“I do believe these belong to me…” Arthur quips, a cheeky grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he pulls the pile of chips towards him. A relatively old guy with a fantastically twisted handlebar moustache throws his cards down, cursing as he walks away from the table empty handed. A low chuckle reaches your ears when you squeeze Arthur’s shoulder, proudly standing behind him while his winning streak continues.
“Baby, we’re in the money!” He smugly exclaims, completely ignoring the grumbles of his fellow players. You roll your eyes playfully, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. The action gives your outlaw a pretty fantastic view of your chest, if only for a brief moment, but of course he catches it. The envious eyes of every other man at the table follow you back up to a standing position.
“I’m gonna grab a drink. You want a whiskey?”
“Thanks, darlin’.”
You catch the coin that is expertly flipped through the air, winking a silent thanks to Arthur and swaying your hips just a little more than usual when you strut to the bar. You know all eyes are on you, as does Arthur, and you know how crazy and possessive that drives him, usually culminating in mind-blowing sex that sends you dumb to everything but screaming his name. He loves knowing how much everyone wants you, knowing that he’s the only one who will ever have you. 
It’s only a few strides to the bar, the next hand in Arthur’s game already being dealt by the time you lean one hip against the wood. 
“What’s a pretty lady like you doin’ with a dog like that, huh?”
The unpleasant feeling settles in your stomach almost instantly as the worst kind of booze breath reaches your senses. Rolling your eyes, your gaze falls to the origin: a man, probably in his 30’s, with a clean shaven face and a suit that didn’t quite fit right. He isn’t completely unfortunate looking, you’d have to give him that, but the invisible layer of slime coating him from head to toe is enough to send women running for miles. That, you’re sure of.
Glancing back to the table, you see Arthur engrossed in the game. Maybe it’s the devil on your shoulder, or the promise of the kind of fucking that can only be fuelled by the fiercest jealousy, but you subconsciously decide what simply has to be done. The buzz of four drink and the electricity in the air only found in a packed saloon of an evening spurs you on, dragging your fluttering eyes back to the stranger and plastering a sickly sweet grin to your plump lips. 
“Why, you reckon you could show me a better time, cowboy?” Your drawl is sickening, but it does the job as a flash of false hope ignites the man’s features. 
You place your elbow on the cool bar, sliding down to place some of your weight on it. Naturally, your chest never rises and falls so dramatically with each seductive breath, but you can smell a free drink a mile away, and this one is much closer than that.
“Oh, don’t you know it, baby, I-I could show you the time of your life.” He’s nervous, clearly not used to making it this far without having a drink thrown over him.
What’s more, Arthur has noticed, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds with the most delicious frown on his face. You can practically hear the territorial growls being ripped from the depths of his throat, low and gravely and vibrating your very being.
The bartender finally arrives, glancing awkwardly between yourself and the other man, not knowing who was there first and who to serve. Luckily for him, and for your grand plan, your slimy admirer speaks up.
“I’ll have a beer. And whatever the lady likes.” He gestures to you, all bravado and ego as he places two coins onto the countertop. 
“Whiskey, please. Neat.”
The bartender nods and turns to get the drinks, leaving you alone to be gawked at.
“Oh, I love a woman who can handle her drink.”
“Really? Do you know something, mister, that is just fascinating.”
Every nerve ending in your body is set aflame as you feel a hand snake around your shoulder, resting just above the hem of your low collar. Arthur’s sarcastic drawl has dropped about three octaves. He’s mad. 
“And who might our new friend be, sweetheart?” His theatrics boom around the room, earning a few sideways glances from curious patrons, most certainly hoping for a bit of evening entertainment. One wrong word from your ‘friend’ might just make their dreams come true.
Standing beside Arthur, the once-hopeful devotee is realising just how large the outlaw is, how his strong arms fill out the sleeves of his duster coat and how one of those sleeves is hemmed with a bloodstain you just couldn’t seem to get out. 
You’re saved from having to introduce your pawn to your king when the bartender places two drinks between the three of you, one beer, one whiskey. 
“Aw, for us? Y’shouldn’t have.” The arm draped over your shoulder wraps tighter, twisting around so that Arthur’s thick fingers cup your jaw and squeeze your cheeks. You’re tucked so close into him that the movement forces your neck to crane up to look right at Arthur. You’re putty in his hands, his dominating stance moulding you to his whim. The action is enough to brand you as completely and utterly his, but it’s Arthur and that just isn’t enough.
He tips his own head back, throwing the whiskey into his mouth in one swift movement. A firmer squeeze on your jaw opens your mouth and you lock eyes with Arthur as the fiery liquid is spat from his mouth into yours. It burns your lips and warms your throat. You feel it all the way from your head to your toes, and you’re not talking about the drink. It takes you a second to catch your breath after you swallow, Arthur’s thumb wiping a little droplet of the spirit off your chin and popping it back into your mouth. You suckle on his thumb, just for a second, letting the rest of the busy saloon melt away. In that moment, it is just the two of you, your plan falling oh so cleverly into place. You’re gazing lovingly, seductively at each other, which Arthur only breaks to turn to the man kind enough to pay for the drink he’d just spat into you.
“Hey, cheers, pal. Real nice of ya’ to treat the lady.” He pats the man just a little too hard on the shoulder, sending him stumbling a few steps. You don’t notice, too entranced by your possessive cowboy to notice anything else. 
“Let’s get you home, missy. Seems I gotta teach you some manners about talkin’ to strangers, huh?”
God, yes.
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coconutcordiale · 1 year
Note
“If I could stop loving you, I would.” With any of the pilots
love that's a real long shot
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pairing- hangman x pilot!reader (callsign violet)
synopsis- you and jake keep running into each other over the years and jake just can’t seem to let you go
warnings- fwb! happy ending!!! angst! 18+ for slight smuttiness (if you read my normal stuff this is extremely tame comparatively - just want to manage expectations 😉) light enemies to it’s just sex to pining to lovers. naval inaccuracies but it's my pretend world y'all just live in it, sad jake's pov but he's pretty he'll be fine
length- 7.7k
an- companion piece to this 0.6k drabble one time thing but that is not required reading - pretty much all of ott is revisited in this fic
i really, really don’t know how I feel about this one but i've been tinkering and agonizing over it forever and i have to be done so LOL here ya go
credit for the cs violet goes to my soulmate @justfandomwritings thank you for loving angst as much as i do, thank you for being brilliant
title courtesy of it ain't over - the black keys
tagging those that were upset with me for the ending of one time thing - @unstablecaffeinatedmind / @ahopelessromanticwritersworld / @gigisimsonmars / @flashyourgreeneyesatme / @forever-sleepy-sloth / @gingerbreadandpaper / @lovingjakeseresin
also - @mandylove1000 ily
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Virginia Beach, 2019
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Jake’s glad the packed bar gives him enough cover to stay hidden when he overhears Bradshaw asking his new roommate if she’s interested in him.
He bites back a huff of annoyance, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He talked to her for all of five seconds before mustache boy strutted up to make it very clear his friend was off-limits, was barely even flirting with her. Charming smiles are basically a reflex of his at this point.
“That man has never given a girl an orgasm.”
Jake rolls his eyes but keeps his mouth shut. It’s categorically untrue, but who cares what Bradshaw’s roommate thinks?
Your back is to him too, but he hears you hum in agreement, stifling a laugh. Jake’s hackles suddenly raise, and he briefly wonders why it irritates him so much that you seem to agree with that statement.
Rooster chokes on his beer. “Excuse me?”
She shrugs, fidgeting with her drink. “You were asking if I was into your friend – Hangman, was it? That should be enough of an answer.”
“I don’t really want to think about Seresin’s like in bed.”
“You’re breaking my heart, little bird,” Jake drawls from behind Rooster, figuring he should let you guys know of his presence before you get any further. “And here I thought we had something special.”
You roll your eyes before pushing your stool back. “Well, that’s my cue to leave.”
Jake immediately wonders what the appropriate amount of time is before he can excuse himself too.
+
“If you wanted to know what I’m like behind closed doors, you could’ve just asked, darlin’,” Jake murmurs from behind you, having found the corner of the bar you disappeared to. “I’d be happy to give you a lesson. I’m very hands-on.”
“Hard pass, Hangman.”
He smiles lazily, turning the charm up to full wattage and leaning on the bar next to you. Not close enough to make you uncomfortable, but enough to make you avert your eyes from his bicep and shift a little in your seat.
“I have a pretty good idea already.”
His smirk goes a little sharp around the edges, a predator locking in his prey. “That so? And what idea might that be?”
You raise an eyebrow. The derision you manage to convey in one unimpressed glance goes straight to his cock.
His eyes flash, fingers clenching around his beer, but he makes sure the infamous smirk stays put. “Think you’ve got me figured out?”
You shrug. “Guys that look like you are rarely anything more than a disappointment in bed.”
He smiles at that, leaning towards playful instead of goading, wondering if you’ve realized what you just admitted. “I think you’re pretty too, sweetheart.”
“You’re intelligent enough to know what you look like. It’d be stupid to pretend otherwise.”
He rolls his beer between his palms, gaze far away and calculating.
“Stop that.”
“Stop what?” He asks, feigned innocence taking over as he brings his eyes back to you.
“Stop thinking about how you’re gonna get me to sleep with you.”
The problem for you is, Jake sees the way you look at him. And it’s nothing like the polite boredom he’s witnessed you grace guys with when they truly don’t have a chance with you.
“Tell me one thing, Violet,” he says, your callsign rolling off his tongue like honey. “Why is it that you’re so nice to everyone else, but so mean to me?”
“Maybe I just don’t like you that much,” you answer, but the barbs in your words are undermined by the way your eyes dart to his chest. He wants to pat himself on the back for going home to change out of his flight suit and into a threadbare grey t-shirt before coming out tonight.
Jake purses his lips, nodding like he’s seriously considering your words, leaning in, and lowering his voice. “Or maybe, you like me a little more than you’d care to admit.”
You shoot him a dirty look for invading your space. “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?”
Your thighs press together, almost imperceptibly. If he wasn’t completely attuned to you, he probably would’ve missed it.
Bingo.
“Tell me to fuck off and I will,” Jake rumbles, mouth ghosting over your ear now, too close to be played off as a joke. “Or let me prove you wrong.”
When you lift your eyes to meet his, refusing to shy away from him towering over you in your seat, there’s something dark, something glazed taking them over.
“A one-time thing and I’ll never bring it up again,” Jake promises. “I have new orders for Lemoore anyways; I leave in two days.”
“Fuck,” you whisper. “Take me home before I change my mind, Seresin.”
+
You’ve been gripping his hair for what seems like hours, thighs still shaking where they’re bracketed around Jake’s head.
“What was it – I’ve never given a girl an orgasm?” He asks smugly. “I must be some kind of prodigy, then.”
“Don’t ruin my afterglow,” you manage, voice hoarse. You’re still far too coherent for his liking, and Jake ducks his head back down, savoring the broken moan that rips from your throat.
He doesn’t stop until the only word you can form is his name.
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North Island, 2020
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“Look who showed up,” Jake calls from across the Hard Deck, eyes running down your body. He shifts, adjusting himself as subtly as he can. “If it ain’t Violet.”
As generic as your uniform is, all he can picture now is the body he knows lies beneath it.
“Hangman,” you say, not quite able to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
“Glad to see we have a runner-up for the TOPGUN trophy.”
You look almost, dare he say, fond? “Your ego hasn’t dimmed a bit, has it Hang?”
Jake gives you another obvious once-over, smirking to balance out the warmth he can’t keep out of his voice. “Good to see you, sweetheart.”
+
Jake’s skin has been buzzing all night, high off his win, drunk off being within inches of you outside the Hard Deck after thirteen weeks of having you just out of arm’s reach.
“Congratulations,” you say, and you don’t even seem that sore about it. Your eyes linger on where his shirt has slowly been coming unbuttoned as the night wears on when you add, “Can’t believe you beat me for first place.”
“An inevitability, darlin’.” Jake leans in, pleased to see your mouth part in his proximity. “Don’t tell anyone, but I might’ve worried you were gonna give me a run for my money for a second there.”
You scoff, but don’t move away, if anything you sway closer. His fingers twitch at his sides, fighting to pull you against him, aching to run his hands up your bare legs and under your flimsy sundress, to see if you’re as wet as the heat in your eyes suggests.
You turn to face the ocean, which just pushes your hips in closer to him and makes Jake’s mouth water. “Obviously. You barely won.”
He winks, knowing you’re keeping tabs on him from your periphery even as you pretend to study the crashing waves in front of you. “That’ll be our secret. Care to congratulate me in private?”
“Thought you said that was a one-time thing, Seresin.” There’s a teasing lilt to your voice and in that moment, Jake knows he’s won for the second time today.
“Shut up and meet me at my truck.”
You smirk, turning on your heel without another word.
Jake doesn’t take his time with you this time. Only immense self restraint and the threat of being slapped with a public indecency charge keeps him from bending you over in the parking lot of the Hard Deck.
It doesn’t help that you seem less than willing to wait too, running delicate fingers along the inseam of his jeans, letting your skirt ride higher and higher as you shift in the passenger seat, giggling as he swerves when he catches a glimpse of red lace between your thighs.
By the time you reach his house you’re practically dragging him up the stairs by his belt loops, looking like you’re heading for the bedroom before he pushes you back up against the front door and takes you right there.
The second round you only make it as far as the couch, but he at least manages to get your clothes all the way off.
When you finally end up in his bed you’re both still panting and spent, Jake curling around you even though he’s tacky with sweat.
“I’ll be in Lemoore, now that I’m done with TOPGUN,” you whisper when you’re forming coherent sentences again, so quiet he can hardly hear you over the wind whipping against his bedroom window. “I think it’s short term, but we’ll see.”
Something warm lights up in Jake that he doesn’t want to examine very closely. “Good, everyone there is shit at pool. I’m in need of some actual competition.”
You smile against his skin and he drops a kiss to the top of your head, wondering if you can feel his heart speeding up.
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Lemoore, 2021
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You’re tracing mindless shapes across Jake’s chest, playing with his chest hair when you rip the rug out from underneath him.
“Got my new orders.”
It’s always amused him how fond you are of his chest hair, so it takes a few seconds for your words to sink in. When he does, his entire body flashes hot, then cold. He hopes you don’t notice the rigidity suddenly running through him. “When do you leave?”
Your face is blank, frustratingly neutral. “Tomorrow.”
Jake takes as deep of a breath as he can manage without being noticeable. Which given your proximity to his chest, is not very. He wants to be mad you didn’t tell him sooner, but the rational part of his brain reminds him he has no right to be.
“Where to?” He asks after a few beats of silence when he’s pretty sure it’ll come out even.
“Fallon.”
The scoff he lets out is genuine, at least. “Gross.”
Your indifference breaks as you giggle against his skin at his derision and he forgets that this is the last time he’ll get to have you like this. For now, at least.
“Are you spending the night?”
Jake doesn’t know why you ask anymore, in the last year he’s said no to sleeping in your bed zero times. He's turned down the opportunity to save you from sleazy guys hitting on you in dive bars even less than that - which is to say he does it without being asked and without even checking if you want his help anymore. Tact really is his middle name.
But like always, you ask and like always, he fights to keep the eagerness out of his voice. He’s fortunate to have decades of practice of keeping his tone level under his belt. “If you want me to.”
“I do,” you whisper, face still tucked into him, but he manages to see your lips purse, looking like you want to say more.
You don’t, though, and Jake hides his smile in your hair rather than commenting.
“Good. Wanna wake you up with my mouth on you,” he murmurs, trailing said mouth against your soft skin. He wills himself to say something else, to tell you he’ll miss you, that he doesn’t want whatever this is to end.
But his tongue stays stuck, arms tightening as his body says what his lips can’t.
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North Island, 2022
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Jake’s fists are clenched by his side, nails digging into his palms, pinpricks of pain the only thing keeping him from seeing red.
“I’m sorry?” You look confused. Scarlet edges into the corners of his vision. “That I didn’t tell you they sent me back to TOPGUN too? I haven’t seen you in almost a year, Jake.”
“Don’t act like we haven’t talked since then.” Jake doesn’t want to know what his face looks like, his normally careful façade shattered in favor of quiet outrage. “I think you know you were supposed to mention it.”
You had talked. Mostly sporadic, surface-level texts. Memes of an exasperated Chris Pine on his press tour he knew you would get a kick out of. In return, he received a graph detailing Leonardo DiCaprio’s age versus his girlfriends’, noting a clear age limit. You kept your jokes about him being a future Leo to a minimum, at least.
And on one memorable occasion, you called him drunk, and he got to talk to you for an hour after you snarkily admitted to missing him.
Neither of you mentioned it the next day.
You deflate. “Maybe. I don’t know what you want from me. We were always playing by your rules here.”
Jake’s mouth forms a tight line. “Right. My rules.”
Some bullshit he said, before Lemoore, way back in Oceana. Before you’d slept together, before TOPGUN, before he’d gotten to know the real you, before you’d gotten under his skin.
“Let’s just get through this mission, it’ll be easier if we’re not fighting. You do enough goading with Rooster.”
Jake’s so caught up in his own head that he doesn’t even bother to protest about Rooster. He’s grinding his teeth, jaw clenched so the rest of his body can remain still. He knows, on some level, that he’s probably overreacting. But he mentioned this return to TOPGUN to you last week and he can’t help but feel like he’s playing catch up when suddenly you’re here too.
If there’s one thing Hangman doesn’t allow, it’s being left behind.  
He doesn’t know why this is on the laundry list of things you refuse to talk about. That’s probably the most frustrating of it all. You’ve always been the puzzle he can’t quite figure out.
“We’ll stay out of each other’s way,” he finds himself saying, mask slipping back into place. “Focus on the mission.”
“Yeah, focus on the mission,” you echo, and Jake wonders if it feels hollow to you too.
+
Your head is on Jake’s chest again, bare legs tangled with his and the tension is finally bleeding from his body.
“Don’t like fighting with you,” you mumble, muffled by his arms wrapped around you.
“Ended well,” he jokes, magnanimously gesturing to your naked state just barely covered by the thin sheet. “Gave us a vigor we haven’t had in a while.”
He feels your cheeks grow warm where they’re pressed against his skin, clearly thinking back to the adrenaline laden, ‘thank God we’re alive sex’ that lead to the casualty of at least one lamp.
Jake silently thanks Maverick for being such a hot mess that the Navy is unlikely to worry about a few broken items in his bunk.  
He smirks at your embarrassment, as if falling into bed together is anything new. It’s the post-orgasm glow, he knows it is, but Jake feels the truth bubbling to the surface. Wouldn’t it be so easy not to let this end?
“Yeah.” You sigh, not meeting his eyes. “I don’t know. All the arguing, then making up so we can fool around. It’s time for us to grow up, don’t you think?”
Jake lets the words die on the tip of his tongue.
“Probably,” he manages.
He kisses you deeply, saying what his lips won’t. He doesn’t mean for it to turn heated; he just can’t bear to let you go yet.
Making love is the only way to describe what comes next. You’ve been at this for a long time, going on three years, and you’ve fucked; hard and fast and fiery. You’ve slept together; gentle and languid and easy.
It’s never felt quite like this.
When he slides into you for what he knows will be the last time, he tries to memorize every line of your face, every gasp from your parted lips, every flutter of your lashes. It’ll be months before he forgets the soft, unguarded shine of your eyes, the way your fingers feel tangled on the nape of his neck.
It feels like goodbye.
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North Island, 2023
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Your name is out of Jake’s mouth before he can stop himself, longing bowling over his reasoning abilities. Every urge to text you that he stomped out over the last year shows itself as a waste since any sense of self-preservation goes out the window once he lays his eyes on you.
It doesn’t hurt any less to see you without warning in Coronado, but at least this time he holds onto the reigns tightly enough to keep his tone level.
Your voice is happy when you turn towards him, and Jake tries not to outwardly react. “Hangman, hi.”
He wants to rush over, grab onto you, and never let go. Wants to tuck his nose into your hair, smell warm citrus, and have that niggle in the back of his brain soothed.
He waves as you stride towards him instead, boots cemented to the floor. “Back in California already?”
You chuckle, the adorable, lyrical sound raising goosebumps on his arms beneath his flight suit. “Thank God. Fallon’s a shithole.”
Jake’s mouth is open to respond when he clocks someone with curly dark hair behind you, moving forward decisively to your side.
“Babe,” the guy says, and Jake’s spine stiffens, noting the inch or two he has over this mystery guy out of reflex. “Hope you weren’t waiting long.”
There’s a split second where your expression shutters, where Jake thinks the fight or flight thrumming through him might not be necessary.
But as quickly as it shows up it’s gone, and he finds himself hoping the boom of jets taking off covers up the sound of his chest cracking open.
“Brandon, this is Hangman. We were in the same class at TOPGUN.”
Jake’s mouth is dry, tongue glued to the roof of his mouth as he internally winces at the obvious reduction of your history.  
“Riot,” Brandon says, sticking his hand out to shake. Jake tries not to crush the bones in his fingers.
Riot and Violet, he thinks sarcastically. How cute.
“You’re with the Eightballers.” Jake glances at his patches, making sure to keep his tone neutral.
Helicopters. He wants to roll his eyes.
Riot nods and you grin, letting it light up your whole face. “His friends can’t believe he ended up with a jet bro. Can you imagine the shit I have to endure, hanging out with these helo knuckleheads?”
You're unmistakably fond, and Jake feels bile rising in his throat. Mercifully, he’s saved from having to answer by a group of pilots trying to get your attention.
“It was good to see you." Your smile softens as you turn to leave, the sun shining around your head, painting you in gold.
He nods. “I’m sure I’ll see you guys around.”
Jake doesn’t sprint to get away from you, he’s too calculated for that, but it’s a near thing. If his strides are just a touch longer than normal, no one has to know.
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North Island, 2024
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“It’s nice, what you guys have,” Jake's mouth is saying outside the Hard Deck, celebrating your fucking engagement, of all things. The words taste like acid on his tongue.
“Don’t tell me, eternal bachelor, Jake Seresin is thinking about settling down. The women of California will be knocking down your front door.”
Jake wants to laugh, that that’s still what you think of him. But knowing it’ll just come out thick and wet, he keeps the noises to himself. He hasn’t done much in the last year to combat that reputation – Coronado’s smaller than he’d like and you’ve never seen him with the same girl twice because he hasn’t been with the same girl twice.
What’s that they say about old habits?
He takes another sip of his beer instead. “No.”
The teasing is still lighting up your features, barely visible in the moonlight. “Just an introspective mood then, huh? Don’t hurt yourself.”
“Thinking about what it might’ve been like.”
“What?”
“To be with you.”
You blink.
“You never gave me a shot,” Jake continues. He can’t help himself. “You were always convinced I wouldn’t pull the trigger.”
“I don’t think you would have.”
“I think you’re wrong. Doesn’t matter now though, does it?”
Jake tries to smile, but it comes out more like a grimace. He can’t help but reach out for you, squeezing your wrist one last time, studiously avoiding looking at the diamond on your other hand. “I’m happy for you, sweetheart.”
It’s only partially a lie.
+
Jake wishes he could say the noise wakes him up, but he’s already busy staring at his ceiling fan and its endless circles when he hears the pounding on his front door.
He knows it’ll be you before he finishes rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes.
“What the hell is your problem?”
Jake scrubs his hand over his chin, nose scrunching. “Sweetheart, it’s the middle of the night.”
You glower at him in response.
Whether it’s for the term of endearment or the fact that he couldn’t keep his mouth shut in the face of your blinding diamond ring or some combination of the two, he doesn’t know. What he does know is that you have every right to be mad at him, after spilling secrets he’s held close to his chest for years.
He sighs, wishing he could say the timing was an accident, but he can’t lie to himself quite that well. “Come inside at least, so the neighbors don’t call the cops.”
Apparently, your earlier question was rhetorical because the moment the door is closed, you’re rambling, talking at him, really. After a couple of minutes of watching you spew a bunch of nonsense to skirt around the issue at hand, with no end in sight, Jake sighs again and moves into the kitchen to pour himself a drink.
The wooden chair creaks as he settles his weight into it, sliding a glass over to you wordlessly. He’s not even sure you’ll notice it’s there, but you pick it up and gesticulate wildly with it before taking a sip. He’s somewhat impressed you don’t spill a drop.
You haven’t sat down, can’t seem to stop moving and Jake wishes he had a toothpick.
“We were so chaotic, Jake. We wouldn’t have worked.”
You finally look at him, taking a deep breath. Jake wonders about your lung capacity since you clearly haven’t breathed since barging into his off-base housing.
“I’m not arguing.”
You’re pacing back and forth, frustration bleeding from every pore. “What do you want me to say?”
Despite everything, Jake manages a smirk at that, albeit dimmer than normal. “I haven’t said anything for, like, ten entire minutes.”
The scowl he gets for that little comment is unbearably cute. He tries to ignore the tightening in his chest, stay in reality. “Is that what you stormed over to my house in the middle of the night to tell me, that we shouldn’t be together?”
You visibly deflate. “I don’t know why I’m here.”
There’s an inkling in the back of Jake’s brain that says he does, but he tells it to shut up.
You do not have a history of sticking around when it comes to verbal confrontation, and he’s painstakingly aware that one misstep could have you sprinting out the door.
It was something that worked well with you two, at the beginning, when everything was easy and fun. Blowing off steam with the competition, neither of you had ever been any good at talking so you figured why bother?
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Why now? Don’t you think your timing sucks a little bit?”
“I don’t know.”
It’s a lie.
He knows. As much as he’d like to tell himself he was overwhelmed, seeing the ring on your finger, watching everyone congratulate you and your fiancé, deep down he knows that’s not true.
Like everything he does, it was deliberate. There was something telling him this was his last chance. Is his last chance.
“If I could stop loving you, I would.”
You drop down into the chair across from him, stalling as your brain clearly restarts.
“Loving, present tense?”
There’s a weariness to your voice that he doesn’t like one bit, which makes his heart drop into his stomach as he’s reminded of the risk in telling you this. A calculated risk, but still a risk. One where he’s already bet big, his chips all in, but the river is flipping over, and his gut tells him before he sees it that it’s not the card he needs.
He takes a sip of his Balcones, hoping the burn scorches the rampage building beneath his ribs.
You purse your lips, waiting for a response.
Jake shrugs, but he’s aware it doesn’t have the effect he’s going for when the tension refuses to bleed from his shoulders.
You look like you’ve forgotten how to breathe and will pass out any minute now. Jake debates the merits of passing out to get out of the hell that is this confession.
He avoids your eyes instead. Coward, his brain screams at him, willing him to look up at meet your gaze. “I’ve tried to stop.”
Hangman makes strategic withdrawals. When someone can’t be needled into responding, he pulls back. This is different. He’s never backed down from confrontation out of fear and he hates it, like he’s just discovered his skin doesn’t quite fit him.
Your mouth opens and closes several times without a noise leaving and it frustrates him to no end. When he grits his teeth, he doesn’t know if it’s to hold back the pleading and desperation or frustration at having flayed himself open only to receive silence. “Say something.”
“I’m shipping out,” you tell him as if that’s any sort of answer. “On Monday.”
Jake blinks. That's only three days from now, he wants to say. Opens his mouth and closes it, once, twice. Doesn’t bother with a third time. It won't change anything.
Maybe that is his answer. Let this go, this hope he’s carried onto multiple aircraft carriers, through several states, across endless miles of sky.
This is you telling him to let you go. To start over.
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Hawaii, 2025
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Some things have changed in 2025. Jake’s ability to control his mouth at the sight of you is not one of them.
“Where’s our helo hero?”
He feels pretty good about that one. As hard as it is to see you, as much as his entire being aches to touch you, he’s going to be normal with you and your fiancé. He owes you that at least.
Unfortunately, for him or for you – he doesn’t know who suffers more at this point – normal includes the patented Hangman barbs he just can’t seem to let go of.
“Seresin,” Phoenix whispers harshly.
Jake immediately thinks he’s missing a puzzle piece, that he’s flying blind, making a drop decision without a laser. Unwilling to admit anything he does what he always does; he rolls his shoulders back and smirks.
You shift from on your feet, clearly uncomfortable. “He’s not coming.”
He can’t resist the jab, but it feels sticky in his mouth. “Aw, come on, the rest of us managed to sync up our leaves, but helos are just too important?”
Phoenix pinches the bridge of her nose, scowling at him, murder in her eyes. “Hangman, shut up.”
He tries to pretend that look doesn’t send chills down his spine, but he’s man enough to admit that Natasha Trace could put the fear of God into just about anyone.
You cough, shifting uncomfortably on your feet. “Uh, we broke up.”
Jake looks around, sure the world is suddenly tilting the wrong way on its axis. Fortunately, the rest of the group seems to be trickling in, so you and Phoenix don’t detect his crisis.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs quietly while Phoenix is distracted by Bradshaw strutting towards them. “I didn’t know.”
You give him a tight-lipped smile, a mask so familiar he feels like he’s staring into a mirror. Jake’s seen this cover before, it’s fight or flight. In the next few seconds, you’ll either be pretending he doesn’t exist, or you’ll be cutting through his armor with a few well-placed, very specific remarks.
You angle away from him, surveying Fanboy and Payback to your left. “All good, Hang.”
Guess it's flight.
+
Several bars and a few too many shots later, Coyote elbows Jake in the side. “What’s up with you tonight?”
“Just bored of beating y’all in darts,” Jake insists with a cocky grin he knows doesn’t reach his eyes. He just hopes no one notices.
Luckily for him, the only person that always sees straight through his bullshit smirks is you. And you’re at the bar, waiting patiently for the bartender, politely making conversation with some cheesy tourist.
A guy in an atrocious Hawaiian shirt (that he probably bought yesterday at the nearest ABC store, his internal monologue snidely adds) is clearly hitting on you and Jake forgot what it’s like to watch this. Because it’s been years since you were single, he forgot how it feels with sharks circling in the water around you, seeing you make small talk with strangers who have no reason to stop because you’re so goddamn kind and there’s no boyfriend for you to mention that will abruptly end their interest.
There’s a chance you actually want to talk to this chump, but Jake promptly tells that line of thought to kick rocks.
He kind of wants to throw himself into the ocean and drift away from this stupid vacation he should’ve never agreed to. Mrs. Lee will be fine watering his plants if he never comes back, right?
Because once upon a time, in a shitty bar in Lemoore, he’d save you so you wouldn’t have to turn anyone down and he’d tease you, that no one that’s seen you in the air, so quick and decisive and cunning, would ever believe you’d need a knight in shining armor to keep the creeps at bay. You’d tell him to shut up before dragging him out of there by his belt.
He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the memory. As it stands, the ocean is probably his best bet.
“Pool?” You ask when you return with a fresh mojito, sans cheesy Hawaiian shirt, and everyone rolls their eyes.
“Miss the Hard Deck already, Vi?” Fanboy teases.
Even though the ice between you hasn’t completely thawed yet, Jake ignores him in favor of getting up, making his way toward the table in silent agreement. He figures it’ll give him something to do besides staring at the side of your head.
If his mid-game trash talk is a little pointed, a little too on the nose; well, that’ll stay between the two of you.
+
Jake tenses as he hears the back door of the bar swing open behind him, footsteps heavy and likely belonging to a number of people he doesn’t want to explain his sour mood to right now.
“Surprised you and Vi aren’t still going at it at the pool table, thought it was about to be a rematch of TOPGUN in there,” Rooster says.
“Couldn’t beat me then, can’t beat me now." He chuckles out of reflex more than anything, but it feels hollow and forced. "Sometimes I just like to rile her up, get her out of that shell she always wears on the ground.”
Rooster hums in agreement. “Better than the last time I saw you two together. You barely looked at each other then.”
During the Maverick mission, Jake hears lingering in the silence in the humid Hawaii air.
“Sure,” the blond says, willing to agree to anything that stops this train in its tracks.  
“There a story there?” Rooster asks slowly, careful as ever.
“No,” he answers, but it’s rote, automatic. Even Bradshaw isn’t dense enough to miss the friction between you two, Jake knows that.
Rooster raises an eyebrow and Jake pointedly ignores him in favor of pulling a toothpick out of his pocket.
“How’s your girl, Bradshaw? Are you guys ever going to stop living in sin and tie the knot?”
He doesn’t comment on the abrupt change of subject, shrugging. “We’re happy. She’s pretty focused on her career right now. But when she’s ready.”
“I guess when you start fucking your roommate it’s nothing but sin from there on out, anyways, huh?”
The other man grins. “Jealous?’
Jake can’t help the way the corners of his mouth twitch upwards, an admission in its own right. Just not for what Rooster's implying. “Maybe.”
“Planning on coming after my girlfriend? Gotta tell you, Hangman, back in Virginia she was never very impressed by you.”
“She’s not my type. Any girl that’s into that atrocious caterpillar above your lip clearly has impaired vision.”
The other man brushes aside the dig easily. “That’s right. You only had eyes for Vi back then.”
Jake fights a full-body cringe, blaming the fact that he just walked straight into Rooster’s trap on the shots he took with Javy earlier. “What do you know? You hated me in Oceana.”
“Who says I don’t hate you now?”
“Touché.”
Rooster sighs, long-suffering like he can’t believe he’s the one that got saddled with the job of making sure Jake isn’t gonna lose it and ruin their vacation. “Seresin, you’re not the only one who notices things.”
Jake doesn’t need to dignify that with an answer. He’ll turn in his wings the day Rooster is more observant than him.
“Seems like forever ago, now, but I always thought she had a thing for you too.”
“I don’t know where you got that from, she was always arguing with me.”
Rooster waves it off. “Pulling your pigtails. Sound familiar?” He shoots him a knowing look that Jake pretends he doesn’t see, which unfortunately just gives mustache boy the idea he should continue.
“Yeah, sure,” Jake agrees, not without an air of sarcasm. Rooster may be right but it’s not like he’s going to genuinely admit that.
“D’you ever play Sudoku? My mom always loved it.”
Jake tries not to get whiplash, schooling his face into something neutral. He doesn’t know the ins and outs of Bradshaw’s childhood, but enough to know the other man’s putting a lot of faith in him by bringing his mom up at all.
“Did she?” he echoes, for lack of anything better to say.
Rooster nods, eyes far away, unfocused. “The thing about Sudoku is, you have to think about where you’re placing the numbers, so they don’t interfere with numbers in other boxes and lines.”
Jake barely bites back the word obviously, accompanied by a roll of his eyes.
“When we started dating, things weren’t always easy. We went from zero to sixty at the beginning, already living together.”
“But your mom loved sudoku,” Jake says, albeit dryly. “So, you knew to look at the puzzle as a whole.”
Rooster knocks their shoulders together in agreement, now you’re getting it.
“We had to slow down, take a look at what we were doing, where we were going, talk so that we didn’t fuck it up before it could even start.”
The blonde sighs. Leave it to Rooster to use some convoluted metaphor for Jake to parse out when his brain already feels like it’s been muddled alongside the mint in your mojitos.
“M’not the guy you should go to for relationship advice, normally.”
Jake snorts. “No shit.”
Rooster shoots him a bit of side-eye for that but nonetheless barrels on. “But I’ve known you and Vi a long time. For the better part of a decade.”
And isn’t that a thought, that Bradshaw of all people would be the one to know you and Jake better than anyone else?
“Is this your long-winded way of saying Vi and I need to slow down?”
He shrugs. “Maybe. Maybe not. Just gotta figure out the key. Whatever that looks like for you guys.”
Jake turns it over in his head a few times, pushing down his every instinct to blow this off, to make a joke that breaks the intensity that’s thicker than the Hawaii humidity.
“Patience,” he mutters, because of course it would be that for Bradshaw. “Trusting you’ll get there when you get there, not letting the pressure get to you guys.”
“Hm?”
“That’s your key.”
“Yeah,” Rooster nods, before taking a pull of his drink. “But maybe our puzzles are different.”
Jake scrunches his nose, so unused to metaphors and convoluted thinking. His head is still a jumbled mess, unpacking everything he’s learned in the last twelve hours.
“Sometimes you have to drop down and take the shot. Don’t pretend like that’s not in your wheelhouse, Seresin. You’ve always held back with her. Too scared she’s the only one that can keep up with you, maybe. That she's the only one you won’t shake off your tail.”
Rooster is frighteningly insightful tonight. Jake resolves to switch to whatever he’s drinking the moment he goes back inside.
“What would you have me do?” He asks, maybe a little more abrupt than Rooster deserves.
“Basic, normal, human communication would be a start.”
Jake flips him off.
“Not letting her go again, would be the next.”
+
It only takes Jake one Dark ‘n’ Stormy (of course, Rooster's drinking something that Jake feels like an idiot ordering) to build up the courage to follow you outside.
“You called it off.”
It’s not what he planned to say when he saw you sneaking out the back door of the bar. He was going to let you bring it up, maybe goad you into telling him what happened.
But he’s starting to realize his puzzle is less of a Sudoku and more of a jigsaw. He doesn’t know all the steps to complete the goal and won’t know until he’s in the middle of it. Each step comes up when it needs to, and he’ll have to figure it out then.
At least, he thinks that’s the point Bradshaw was trying to make. You two have to talk about something real, at some point, but patience hasn’t gotten him anywhere with you in the last six years.
You nod, staring into the distance, eyes focused on the water ahead.
“When?”
“Right before I deployed.”
Jake balks. He’s not sure what he expected your answer to be, but it wasn’t that. “And you didn’t think that was something you should tell me?”
You look down at your hands. Jake suddenly feels like an idiot, for not thinking anything of your bare ring finger. He should’ve known. He just assumed you’d become one of the many pilots that’s allergic to wedding rings.
“I wasn’t—I didn’t know what to say.”
There’s something working its way into the edges of his earshot, a timer dinging, the buzz of the right answer chiming. He laughs but there’s no humor in it. It’s only because otherwise, he’ll scream, as the puzzle pieces finally fit together.
“That was almost a year ago,” he mutters because he’s a glutton for punishment.
You continue staring at the water, still refusing to meet his gaze.
And he remembers, you’ve never been good at saying the hard things. As fierce as you are in the air, you temper your words on the ground, too wary to cut someone to the bone.
Shrinking violet, he thinks, wondering who was even well-read enough in your first squadron to know that reference.
He takes your silence for the answer that it is, nodding curtly and squeezing your wrist before turning to go back inside, a mirror of the last time his chest felt like candy glass, just waiting for the director to start the next take so it could have its turn to be shattered.
You finally turn to him, eyes glassy with tears. “Jake, I…”
He can’t wait for you to finish, doesn’t want to hear an excuse. Patience has never been his strong suit.
Jake shakes his head, biting his cheek to keep the tears at bay. You’ve never seen him cry and he’ll die before he lets that change on the back patio of this kitschy tiki bar. “Message received, Vi.”
Fucking Rooster. This is why he put this off for so long. It’s excruciating.
“No, Jake—that’s not what I—”
“Loud and clear, Violet.”
“I didn’t know if you’d feel the same way once I was single,” you say suddenly, and it stops him in his tracks. “You seem to forget you never said anything until I was supposed to marry someone else.”
“Then why?”
“Why what?”
Jake wants to pull his hair out. “Why did you call off the fucking wedding? Because it sure as shit wasn’t for me or you would’ve mentioned it sometime in the last ten months.”
“I was with him for two years, Jake. That doesn’t just go away. I didn’t want to tell you before I knew where my own head was at.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Silence.
He turns to leave again, knowing the panic is showing itself in his shaky hands and uneven voice. Desperately, he wishes he had a toothpick or a beer label, something to tear at so his expression could remain carefully blank, tone collected.
When you finally speak again, your voice is thick and heavy with emotion, muffled by unshed tears. “Because.”
Jake raises an eyebrow, not bothering to figure out what expression is playing itself out on his face.
You clear your throat. You play with the hem of your dress. You look anywhere except his eyes.
Fight or flight, he says silently. What’s it gonna be, Vi?
He hopes to God it’s fight.
“Because you don’t marry someone when you’re in love with someone else.”
It takes a few seconds for the meaning of your words to register. He feels like he’s underwater, slow and sluggish, when he finally asks, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Takes more than love to make a relationship work, Jake.”
It’s funny, how you choose the words Jake has repeated to himself in his weaker moments. When he wondered if loving you was enough, if it could overcome that you two are so much more similar than anyone would guess. You might have a reputation for mincing your words, but he’s the only one that takes that for what it is – a mask. He’s spent enough time underneath one to recognize it when he sees it. It’s your way of keeping people at bay, staying in control, not letting anyone climb those walls you’ve spent so long carefully building.
Someone would have to take their hands off the controls, even for a second. Neither of you knows what it’s like to rely on someone else. To not take the lead. To let someone else have your back.
“You have to be able to give me a chance sometime,” he counters, as gently as he can manage. “Let go of the reigns enough to let me try. Trust me to take the shot.”
“I’ve never been very good at that, especially with you,” you say, nodding and Jake’s chest is getting lighter by the second, that you've thought about this. “But I also knew it was going to take me time, to work through ending things with him. I couldn’t ask you to wait.”
“I did anyways.”
You raise your eyes to him at that. “You did?”
“I told you if I could stop loving you, I would have already.”
You exhale shakily, fingers twitching like you want to touch him, but just falling short in the air between you. “I didn’t – By now I thought you would’ve – fuck, Jake. I didn’t think you meant that. Thought you just needed time to get over me.”
He wants to laugh, feels it twitching at the corners of his mouth. “In less than a year? Have you met you?”
You grin at that, rich and bright and open like he hasn’t seen in far too long, and there’s something loosening in your defensive posture. “A lot of people would say ten months is a long time.”
Jake feels fuzzy, from his chest to his fingers as he reaches to pull you into him. You fold back against him, and he ducks his face into your hair, nudging around to get his lips on your jaw, letting his words get muffled by your skin. “Ten months is a blip on the radar.”
He feels you melt into him and finds the courage to lay the rest of it on the line.
“Doesn’t matter anyways because it hasn’t been ten months. It’s been six years. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”
“Sorry, I’m so slow. Hard to keep up with the infamous Hangman. I hear he flies like his ass depends on it.” The teasing is back in your tone, and it spreads warmth all over him.
You reach up to where his forearm rests on your collarbones, where he can’t bear to loosen his hold on you, his fingers twisting in the strap of your tank top.
The entire line of your back is touching him, his nose tucked into the crook of your neck smelling citrus and vanilla and home, but it’s still not enough, as far as Jake is concerned. Too many years spent apart, too many moments with you just out of reach have him itching for more.
“It’s okay,” he breathes against your neck. “As long as we get here in the end.”
“I trust you,” you whisper. “You know that right?”
He nods, fighting a shiver as your hand drifts across from his elbow to his hand. You run your thumb across his pulse point, fingers encircling his wrist. You squeeze, and he feels your promise.
This time he gets to start over with you.
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"because you don't marry someone when you're in love with someone else" was stolen from michael westen in burn notice, episode 2.15 sins of omission (fantastic show!) although i changed the wording a little bit
thanks for reading!
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babiebom · 2 months
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Heyy it's me again, lol. Ur criminal minds hcs for Reid were so good!! Thank u for blessing me. 🙌🏻 I was wondering if ud be down to write maybe a one-shot or a drabble of Reid comforting a reader (I almost wrote reider bc I spaced out and like akjsldj) who just had friends leave them when they thought they were really close? I hope that's not too specific!! Thank you sm for blessing the world with ur writing. It literally makes my day so much brighter whenever you post. 🥰
A/N: CUTE!! Reider would be a really cute fandom name for him ngl. Also I’ve fallen out of contact with friends that I thought were gonna be in it for the long run with me but unfortunately it just didn’t work out that way even if we didn’t fall out. ALSO specifics are great with me because then it’s clear what I need to write and what you want me to write so don’t apologize!! Can you tell I don’t know how to comfort anyone?
Tw: some cursing, some abandonment issues, mentions of bullying within the friend group. Isolation, ghosting. Lmk if there’s something I should tag!
Genre: angst, one shot, some fluff
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (can be read platonically or romantically in think. Also can be read as gender neutral maybe?) if I added pronouns or descriptors let me know!!
Wc:1.3k
Criminal Minds Masterlist
It’s strange when you break up with a friend, even more so when the reason that you breakup is something stupid, something avoidable. It hurts even more when you get abandoned, ghosted by someone you thought would be in your life for the rest of it. No one ever prepares you for friendships ending. You get prepared for romantic relationships, death, and maybe sometimes you drift apart from friends but even then you’re prepared.
You stare at the group chat that had defined your childhood and teenage years. Stare at the names followed by “has left the chat” with a feeling in your heart that is only rivaled by death of a loved one if you remembered correctly. It had been a while.
It was a petty argument that only lasted a day, something about how everyone treated you. You regretted bringing it up on the first day that you had been ignored after sending a message. That day turned into a week which turned into them all leaving the group chat without telling you which hurt more than being kicked out of it. Did you really mean that little that they would ghost you that easily?
You never started arguments usually. You never even participated in them, trying to stay neutral in order to keep everyone happy. Always passive and agreeable and everyone liked you that way. The one time you have something to get off your chest…maybe you shouldn’t have said anything.
You tried to message one of your friends first, you hadn’t known her as long as some of the others in the group, but she was always sweet and didn’t seem like the type to ghost.
You 5:43 pm: Irene what happened? I saw you all left the group chat. Is something wrong?
You don’t get an answer back for an hour. And it makes your heart squeeze in your chest. It isn’t really an answer, but at the same time it answered both of your questions. To her you didn’t really matter all that much and something was really wrong.
Irene 7:01 pm: just leave me alone. You said what you needed to say, if you message me again I’ll block you.
You try again with a different friend. One you have known a little longer. One who had complained to you and confided in you and one that you thought you were close to than this.
He doesn’t answer at all, and neither do the other two that you message. Eventually you figure out that your messages never sent because you had been blocked. Going to their instagrams and twitters, everything is gone as soon as you click on them. Even their TikTok’s have nothing for you to look at.
Soon enough you’re fighting off tears, your chest tight and your stomach swirling. Was speaking up for yourself really worth this? Your head spins and your vision becomes blurry as you click on the last contact that’s available to you.
Your best friend. Having known her for the longest time out of all of them, you’d think she’d say something before doing something like this. You two met in elementary school, and were friends before the group got together. If you think about it more your friendship reminded you of the one in Jennifer’s Body. Except instead of saving everyone, you were being ignored and abandoned by the person you thought was going to be there even if everyone else wouldn’t. The person that you thought you could rely on.
But before you could message her, one came straight to you. The bubbles popping up as she’s typing something else. You can’t really understand the first paragraph, your mind to overwhelmed by the weeks events to be able to read.
Emilie 7:42 pm: I just wanted to message you before you tried anything with me. I’m honestly not interested in talking to you anymore after how you talked to me and my friends. None of us want you in the group anymore, and honestly it’s fucking pathetic that you’re reaching out and asking if anything is wrong when you’re the reason everyone was upset in the first place. Like you said we were shit friends, and now you wanna act like everything confuses you? If we were so shitty to you, why do you want us to still talk to you? I told Jacob, Josh, Irene, and Paisley to block you if you message them because honestly they don’t need you to try to beg and plead with them. You’re toxic and we’re done with you. Honestly, you look pathetic and desperate for attention messaging all of us like this. I’m not even gonna bother blocking you because it doesn’t really matter that much to me and maybe in the future I could be open to being friends again but for right now, I’m over it. Bye. You should do better.
Now the tears fall down your face, hot and burning as they trail down your cheeks and onto the screen of your phone. Going onto instagram to doom scroll your feelings away, you are immediately met with a photo of your friend group hanging out without you. Taken aback, you try to bring yourself to unfollow Emilie, to block her and effectively cut her out of your life while your wounds are fresh and your friendship is newly ended so you don’t have to torture yourself. But that’s exactly what you do, torture yourself. Instead of unfollowing her, deleting all of the pictures of her and your friend group from your feed, you scroll through them, the tears falling faster the longer you sit there and reminisce. You don’t even hear the front door open and close, and the only reason you know it did is because of the weight that causes you to lean towards the new person in the bed. Warmth blankets around you, the feeling of arms wrapped around your body brings you out of your mind.
Turning to look at the man next to you, you see that Spencer is looking at you as if you’re a wounded animal and it makes you burst out into tears. Maybe you really did look pathetic. “Oh no…what happened?”
You tried to explain, but couldn’t properly while you were blubbering. Instead you just throw your phone to him and let your head fall into your hands. He takes a literal second to read, then lets out a gust of air that usually meant he was surprised and didn’t know what to say.
He moves to hug you again, resting his head on top of yours. “You know…they say that it takes 200 hours to form a close friendship with someone. And when that friendship ends unexpectedly, it can cause a multitude of issues in the future with how you trust and open up to people…”
His ramblings weren’t all that comforting, but just hearing him speak made you start to feel better. Of course he would attempt to make things better by spouting facts that one hundred percent would make anyone else annoyed at him. You snuggle into his arms, nodding your head to show that you’re listening in between sobs. “S-so how long until I s-stop feeling like my h-heart is broken?” You ask. It did somehow feel like being broken up with, or having someone die.
“Well, most grief experts think that a year is a good estimate on how long it takes to get used to the loss of someone major in your life…”
“A year?” You whine, letting your head tilt backwards dramatically. “That’s too long!” It’s kind of a joke, the way you say it. But the way he looks at you lets you know that he knows you’re being somewhat serious.
“She was your best friend…of course it’s going to take some time to get used to not talking to her…however long you take to grieve is how long it’s going to take. It’s not a complete science.”
You nod, and hide your face in his chest. While you still felt like the Earth was ending, maybe it’s not ending right this second anymore.
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shuadotcom · 1 year
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Irresistible | KMG (M)
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Summary: You love Mingyu's hands and arms, especially when he holds you and touches you in the most sinful way.
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x Afab!Reader
Genres & AUs: Smut, pwp, established relationship au
Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)
Warnings: Fingering, a little dirty talk, body worship? (mc is in love with Mingyu’s hands and arms), public sex, outdoor sex (they’re in the woods 0/10 would recommend), pet names (sweetheart, baby)
Words: 1.2k
Note: A little drabble thingy I wrote in a few hours for Mingyu’s birthday! It’s not beta’d so please don’t tell me about the typos bc I’ll probably find them in like 6 months when I decide to randomly reread it lol. It’s also my first time writing a fic completely on mobile and posting on the app (very annoying btw 😒). I also have a different Gyu fic that I finished that I want to get beta’d before I post - hopefully in the next day or so! It’s a little fluff moment though and not like whatever this horny shit is lol.
Net tag: @kflixnet
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Mingyu’s hands are one of your favorite things about him (and yes it’s a very extensive list). His hands are so pretty and always so warm. The pads of his fingers are calloused in the best way but also always so soft.
He’s an expert at holding your hands and loves linking his fingers through yours and rubbing circles into your skin. You love watching him use his hands. Whether it’s when he cooks and you admire the skilled way he handles knives and chopsticks, or when he’s typing on his computer or phone and you watch how his nimble fingers glide over the keyboard and screen.
You love when he’s gripping something, especially something heavy, and you get to see the veins under the skin of his hands bulge, muscles stretching and flexing, reminiscent of pathways on a map; a map that trails all the way up his forearms to his biceps. His bulky, sculpted, wonderful biceps.
Those are a favorite of yours too.
You know he truly puts in the work to make them as big and defined as they are and you appreciate the hell out of him for it. You appreciate how safe and sound you always feel when he traps you in those arms in a hug, holding you like the most precious piece of glass. The limbs are so sturdy, so easy to naturally grab onto when you’re out in the world, relishing in the jealous looks people give you because you’re the one clinging to him, digging your nails lightly into the arms of the Greek god you get to call your boyfriend. If it was up to you, Mingyu would wear nothing but sleeveless shirts and tank tops.
Just like the sleeveless shirt he’s wearing today. It’s black and soft between your fingers as you cling to it like a lifeline. His hands you obsess over so much are doing another thing you love - grabbing at your sweaty, bare skin.
His right-hand grips the leg you’ve thrown around his waist, helping to keep you upright and keep you balanced. His left hand is covered in your sticky wetness as he drags his index finger in and out of your eager cunt.
The bark of the oak tree you’re pressed against digs into your back through your shirt and your jeans are dangerously close to falling off the leg that dangles in his hold, but you barely register it as Mingyu’s finger brushes your g-spot.
“Fuck! Gyu…”
“Feel good, sweetheart?”
Your bottom lip, already red and raw from how hard he kissed you earlier and how much you’ve been gnawing at it, is between your teeth again and you nod in response.
You’ve lost count of how long he’s been teasing you and drawing out this pleasure. It’s been at least fifteen minutes maybe. Definitely too long to be doing this behind a cluster of trees in the park in the middle of the day while your friends wait for you a few feet away.
“I can’t help it, you look so fucking good,” he grumbled into your ear as he crowded you against a tree.
“I’m wearing such a normal outfit!” You giggled, but it was short-lived when he attached his lips to your neck and began sucking on the skin.
“That’s how much you drive me crazy. You’re fucking irresistible.”
“B-but we’re supposed to be getting th-the drinks from the car.” You could barely get the sentence out as Mingyu’s wide hand reached up, grabbing a handful of one of your breasts through your shirt.
“The drinks can wait. Wanna make you cum first.”
He had said that what seems like forever ago, and he’s been doing the exact opposite. Mingyu alternates between lazily rubbing at your clit with his thumb and fucking you with one finger, bringing you so close but not giving you enough to tip you over the edge.
“Gyu, please,” you breathe out, holding in a moan that wants so badly to tumble out. Your ears pick up the sounds all around you - the sound of voices, the rustling of the trees, a dog barking in the distance, and the obscene squelching of your juices as Mingyu shoves a second thick finger into you.
“Hmm, I suppose I should let you cum. People may come looking for us.” He’s almost noncommittal with his words, still only fingering you with minimal effort.
“Please, please, please,” you babble as your fingers grab at his shirt so hard that you’re sure it’ll be wrinkled once you’re done.
“Please what, baby?”
“Please, let me cum, Gyu, please!” You’re desperate and punctuate your whimpers with open mouth kisses on his chiseled jaw.
Your boyfriend gives you a devious smirk and you can nearly hear the gears in his head turning, deciding if he wants to keep teasing you or not. Mingyu seems to take pity on you though as he readjusts your leg around him, hiking it higher. Your eyes rake over the prominent veins in his biceps, the skin looking as smooth and tan as always.
Then he’s drawing his other arm back and starts thrusting his fingers into you so quickly it takes your breath away. Your hands fly to his shoulders, grasping onto him for dear life as Mingyu pistons his fingers in and out, curling the tips perfectly.
“Ohhh fuck, like that, fuck!” The words leave your mouth in between more moans of his name, fire erupting in the pit of your stomach.
“Gonna make a mess all over my fingers, baby? Gonna let go for me right here with all these people around?”
A mix of words that you can’t understand comes out of you. He adds a third finger at some point, making your eyes roll back at the delicious burn of the stretch. Mingyu’s thumb rubs against your clit roughly, the pressure being exactly what you need.
He knows you so well and always knows when you’re about to release, so Mingyu brings his mouth to yours, capturing your lips and sticking his tongue into your mouth as you reach your peak. He swallows up your cries of his name as your body shakes in his hold, the tree bark scratching against your exposed skin where your shirt has risen up your back.
Your lips stay locked as you messily make out with him, his digits slowing down to let you ride out the rest of your orgasm.
Eventually, he pulls away and you let out puffs of air that turn into whines of protest when the stimulation from his fingers becomes too much.
Mingyu eases his fingers out of you and holds your gaze as he pops them into his mouth, sucking his fingers clean and groans.
“So sweet. My favorite flavor.” If your skin wasn’t already ablaze, you know you’d be burning up due to his little show.
Mingyu gently lowers your leg and leans down to help you steady your weak body. He gingerly lifts your leg to put it back through your underwear and jeans, even wiggling the denim up your legs and fastening the button for you.
He brings his right hand up, brushing some of your sweaty hair back and placing a kiss on your forehead.
“Now, let’s go get those drinks!” He flashes you his signature wide, puppy smile before lacing his perfect fingers with yours and carrying on with your original goal as if he hadn’t just had those same fingers knuckle-deep in your pussy.
Not that you’re mad about it of course.
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gracie7209 · 9 months
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Mood board by the lovely, wonderful, and insanely talented @wildemaven
Complete!
Amaryllis Masterlist
Triple Frontier AU
Pairings: Frankie x f!reader, Tom x wife!Reader
A/N: (Reader is of Hispanic descent and is originally from Cuba, but moved at a fairly young age. There are mentions of some ethnic traditions/customs as well etc) This started as a Waitress AU that I completely lost control of and it has now become THIS lol I’ve posted snippets, but have been working on this for the better part of 2 years and I was determined to see it through. Originally had Ana De Armas as a face claim for Reader which is why the character is Cuban. No physical descriptions other than Reader has a light accent.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, smut, fluff, heavy angst, drinking, there are some heavy topics here so please heed chapter warnings, domestic violence, Tom is a piece of SHIT, cheating, infidelity, oral (f & m receiving), pregnancy, pregnant sex, maybe slight lactation kink?? fingering, unprotected PIV sex, therapy mentions, childbirth mentioned (no description), first time (with Tom 🤢 but necessary to the story), Tom is just literally the fucking worst, but Frankie is here to make it all better, leaving out some things so as not to completely spoil the plot. Will update each chapter with more specific warnings
Description:
As a sheltered wife to an emotionally abusive husband, you find yourself in an impossible situation when you learn that you’re pregnant. Up until now, you were content with the way things were, but a child didn’t deserve this life that had been chosen for you. What little outlook you had on life was as good as gone; But then a chance meeting in an unlikely place finds you potentially looking toward a very different future.
That is, until it’s all ripped away from you.
How far are you willing to go to keep a promise you made as a child? And how much are you willing to sacrifice to protect the ones you love most?
A/N: This fic is complete, just doing some finishing touches. There are 12 chapters and an epilogue. Chapter lengths range any where from 1k-9k words. Also, I just have to give my thanks to @just-here-for-the-moment Who basically held my hand and guided me throughout this entire process. I genuinely mean it that I don’t believe I ever would’ve finished this story if it wasn’t for her. Claire you are a Godsend and I appreciate you more than you know!
*******
*Chapters containing smut will be labeled with 🔥
Drabble
Chapter 1
Chapter 2 - Wednesday
Chapter 3 - It’s a…!
Chapter 4 - Tom
Chapter 5 - It’s Been Awhile
Chapter 6 - Want 🔥
Chapter 7 - The Mission
Chapter 8 - The Call
Chapter 9 - The Return 🔥
Chapter 10 - Safe House
Chapter 11 - Stay 🔥
Chapter 12 - Home
Epilogue
A/N: I don’t have an official tag list, but if you would like to be tagged, just let me know!
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jnnul · 10 months
Text
lowkey
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gif credit: @chwerity
genre: FLUFF, action if you count the amount of running they do 😭, jaemin being stupid <3
word count: 0.8k
type: drabble
a/n: hehe welcome to my first official post! i guess the other two were just timestamps to kinda get a feel for tumblr lol. let me know what you guys think! the comments/reblog tags are so cute and i keep rereading them <3
+++
you had never expected that you would spend your friday night running away from daily mail.
quite frankly, you didn’t expect that you would be running at all on a friday night, much less from tabloids. you prided yourself on how lowkey you lived your life. you made few, but diehard, friends. you had no enemies. you had a well-paying, stable job and you were working towards buying your own apartment soon. but for all of your attempts to stay absolutely average, your superstar boyfriend had to go become famous and propel you to stardom with him.
“oh my god, jaemin, if i have to work out every time we go on a date, i’m literally never seeing you in person again,” you gasp as your boyfriend tugs on your arm to make you run faster - as if that would mean that you would lose your paparazzi trail.
you still don’t know how you ended up like this in the first place. pulling na jaemin, the center of nct dream, was a small miracle in itself. but regardless, you were well seasoned veterans of the dating scheme now. after dating for three years, the two of you were really good at hiding from the public about your relationship.
it definitely helped that you were a run of the mill citizen (as opposed to, say, a world renowned singer) and the fact that jaemin was a homebody until he died so being in this situation was a little foreign to you. you weren’t sure if you had gotten into a scare like this since the first two months that you and jaemin were dating.
“i thought we would be safe in fucking london!” jaemin hisses back as the two of you weave in and out of the stumbling bodies exiting suspicious looking clubs. “it’s two in the morning and people still recognized me wearing a sweatshirt, mask, and sunglasses.”
you stop in your tracks at that, gaping at jaemin’s ‘foolproof’ disguise. the sweatshirt he mentioned? neon green. you mentally face-palm as the two of you start running again, hearing the incoming mob of people.
they definitely had done this before, you think. you were way too tired and they looked like keep tailing the two of you for another couple hours for sure.
“you cannot tell me that the sweatshirt the color of a traffic suit was your way of escaping paparazzi,” you deadpan. looking back on it, the last couple years worth of dates were done where you were both wearing clothes that were almost at the level of national espionage.
you and jaemin would always wear varying shades of black and the two of you would always choose the most hole in the wall places you could find - or some of the industry safe places, such as the locations in itaewon, where you could easily blend with the foreigners. even some of the veterans of the industry were known for letting idols into their establishments in discrete ways so that everyone could act normally for a few hours.
the two of you had gotten careless this time. thinking you would be safe due to the far away location, as well as the late timing, you had grown lax and comfortable due to the lack of scandals for the past few years. rookie mistake.
“this way! if we get off of peter street, we should be able to dodge the tabloids,” you stage whisper, tugging your boyfriend so that he would be by your side as the two of you dash into the nearest adjacent street that you can.
you’re affectively pressed up against jaemin’s chest as you rest your head against the crook of his neck, trying to conceal both of your faces so that you look like any other drunk and enamored couple. you would tell jaemin to take off that stupid neon green sweatshirt but the space to move is a luxury you haven’t been awarded. 
you and jaemin hold your breaths, hoping that the less noise you make, the less the gods are compelled to send the tabloids your way. it seems your vehement prayers (and perhaps the fact that the alleyway was so dark, it muted jaemin’s sweatshirt color) have paid off because the mob that was following you run right past the alleyway you’re hiding in in a cacophony of “this way!” and “we’re gonna make front page!” that lets you know that you’ve successfully escape them. 
the two of you shimmy out of the alley when you’re positive there’s no one left and breathe in the air that was much too hard to breath in the cramped alleyway.
you look at jaemin, who’s already looking at you with a stupid grin on his face as he presses a kiss against your cheek.
“so much for lowkey, huh?”
“na jaemin, i swear to fucking god, if you don’t throw out that sweatshirt right now, i’m breaking up with you!”
“but...but it’s the nct dream sweatshirt.”
“...i’m gonna kill jeno.”
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cosmal · 1 year
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𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 — 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧
day two to my christmas drabbles advent calendar
summary — steve gets you a christmas present after you’d agreed to no gifts this year.
warnings/tags — fem!reader, she/her pronouns, reeder celebrates christmas
notes — i hate this lol
“I don’t think I have enough money saved to buy Christmas presents and pay bills this year.” Was what you had said to Steve a month ago.
You’d both agreed to hold off the gift-giving for just this year. But you’d agreed to it so sadly, Steve hasn’t been able to get the upset look on your face out of his head ever since.
It’s easier to imagine the joyful look you had on your face when you’d pointed to the polaroid camera in the window at Percy’s Photography in the middle of town. You’d gushed to him about how you’ve always wanted one but never been able to afford it. And Steve’d be damned if he didn’t get it for you for Christmas. You deserve it.
Now he’s sat on your couch, a few days before Christmas with the box squished between him and the cushion at his back. He’s waiting for you to come back from the kitchen with your drinks and he’s nervous. More nervous than he thinks he should be.
He knows you’ve been down ever since the festive season has begun. The joyful person you usually are around this time of the year is hard to be found and he’s determined to change that.
You come back out and he misses your smile sorely.
“I burnt myself on the milk,” you pout, sitting down next to him, careful not to spill the hot chocolates in your hands.
Steve sits up and accepts his drink. He sets it down next to him instead and takes your free hand into his own. He feels over your red fingertips and you let him.
“Are you okay?” he asks, pushing his fingers into yours gently.
“Yeah,” you sigh, “just stings a bit.”
You sit your own drink down without even sipping it and take your joined hands to your mouth to kiss the back of his.
“Do you need an ice pack?” he worries, letting you press your lips into his skin. He wants to kiss yours instead, but let’s you love on him.
You part from his hand and shake your head, “M’okay. Thank you.” You kiss him once more for good measure.
He lets you shuffle around until you’re comfortable, crossing your legs over so your thigh is pressing into his. Once you’re settled, he thinks it’s the perfect time to pull the gift out. His nerves slowly form into excitement. It radiates from him and feels it’s an injustice next to you where you sit sadly.
“I have a surprise,” he says, interrupting you where you flick mindlessly through channels on the TV.
Your eyes light up just a little and Steve can feel his heart tick faster. You turn so you can face him.
“A good one?” you ask over the rim of your mug. After a sip, you sit it down to give him your full attention.
“I think so.”
You bite your lip, “Did you find some more of the fudgy cookies I like?” you giggle a light, airy sound.
Steve laughs too, reminding himself to find your favourite dessert next time he goes shopping. “No, I think it might be better.”
“Okay.”
He pulls the box from where its corner is pressing into his back, sitting it in your lap. He watches your giddy excitement turn to something like confusion. Still, you’re happy.
You pick the box up and run your fingers over the folds in the wrapping paper. Over the little pictures of reindeer and snowmen.
“Steve…” you murmur, voice too quiet.
“Open it,” he urges gently, nudging your knee with his own.
“What is this?” you ask, flipping the box over in your tender hands.
“An early Christmas present.”
“Steve, I thought we-“
“Yeah, I know. We weren’t gonna get each other presents this year, but I could t help myself.” he rambles, his own giddiness is dizzying.
“Well, what am I gonna get you?” you ask, present completely forgotten. He almost feels a little guilty.
“No, nothing,” he shakes his head until the hair behind his ears falls into his eyes. “Don’t worry about that. Just, please baby, open the box.”
You hesitate for a moment and then move to flip it to unstick the tape from the pretty wrapping. Being too gentle for Steve’s liking. Personally, he would’nt care about keeping the paper intact.
When you can clearly see what’s under the wrapping, your eyes go wide, a pretty smile washing your features.
“Steve,” you gasp, scrunching the paper in your hands. Steve grins almost just as wide as you.
“You like it? I hope it’s the right one, the lady at the store said-“
You throw yourself into Steve’s chest, wrapping your arms around his neck. Falling into him until he lands backwards into the couch. Steve laughs wildly, landing with a happy oomph.
“It’s perfect. I love it,” you murmur into his neck. He squeezes you close as if he’ll be able to hear your happy voice even clearer.
“You sure?” he asks. He genuinely hopes he hasn’t stuffed up.
You squeeze into him, pressing your nose into his hair. You really try not to cry. You love Steve’s heart more than the present in this moment. The gift half-forgotten next to your legs.
“I love you,” you say instead.
Steve stammers, “I love you too, sweetheart.”
You press your lips to his neck, kissing him lovingly. “You’re amazing. Truly.”
Steve laughs madly. “Not as much as you, honey.”
You settle in his lap, more content with loving over your amazing boyfriend then opening the present even more. It can wait.
“You gonna open it up?” Steve asks while you push your head closer to his shoulder.
“In a minute. Wanna sit here for a moment. I’m just really happy.”
Steve’s heart swells, “Oh, sweetheart. I’m happy that you’re happy.”
You giggle against his neck after a beat, “I’m going to take so many photos of you.”
Steve groans lightheartedly, like he’s not already excited. “Not as much as I’ll take of you.”
“Never.”
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dirtysvthoughts · 1 year
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congrats on 100 followers!! next time you blink it’ll be 1000 haha! 💞
for your timestamp drabble event:
38 + 126 + woozi and idk if this is too much to ask but could he be a bit of a loser…? like 0 bitches whatsoever so he doesn’t really know how to act when someone shows interest in him lol 😭
dirtysvthoughts hits 100 followers!
a/n: thanks anon! y’all are so sweet omg 🥹 this was my first time writing a bitchless pov, so pardon if its not the best 😭😩 😈 0 bitches really sent me LMAOOO i hope y’all are ready!
tags: bitchless! jihoon, female! reader, non-romantic relationship, but you both have a mutual attraction for one another, reader is a TEASE, dirty talk, we’re lowkey back to writing filth 🥴
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
38. “you want to have sex with me?”
126. “y-you’re not.. w-wearing anything under that are you?”
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
“wait, what?” he says from across his studio, completely stopping his work, turning his chair to face you.
“i mean you’ve been on my mind for a while.”
“s-so what does that mean?”
“it means i like you, jihoon.. but you probably hear that a lot anyway..” he shyly smiles as he runs his fingers through his hair, blushing inside at your words.
“well, not as direct as you,” he whispers at a level that you can hear.
you smirk as you get up from your seat and walk sultry towards him. as you get up, he can’t help but notice how hot you looked in your short black skirt and tiny little crop.
“goddamn,” he thinks to himself. “how is she so fucking sexy right now?” he tries to avoid letting the growing tent in his jeans show, but it might already be too late. he blushes as you get closer, fidgeting with them hem of his shirt.
you place your legs on opposite sides of his and you slowly place your crotch on his clothed dick. you moan loudly at the feeling as you lean further into his touch, hands roaming across chest, mentally foaming at the mouth at how broad he is.
“y-you’re not… w-wearing anything under that are you?” you bite your lip as you look into his eyes, subtly grinding yourself on his lap. “these panties feel like nothing, i feel like i could leave a spot on your jeans with how wet i’m getting..” you breathlessly laugh as you leave a hickey on his neck. “god, you’re so fucking sexy, i just want you to take me down..”
jihoon has no idea where to put his hands. does he put his hands your boobs? but then your ass looks so good in this skirt, so maybe your ass? but he wants to hold you by your hips so he can guide you on him. he decides to put them on your hips, going up and down your legs as you continue to grind down on him.
you’re so lost in your own pleasure that you almost don’t realize the new feeling in your core. jihoon puts two fingers into you and you grab his shoulders as your body adjusts to the sensation.
“g-god, f-fuck, ji-jihoon! oh my god, m-more please!!” you beg for him. he continues his pace until you come undone all over his jeans, knowing for sure that a wet spot would be left.
“wow, i- don’t even know what to say,” jihoon laughs as he runs his fingers through your hair. you sit in silence for a few seconds, finally breaking the silence to fulfill your desires.
“jihoon?”
“yeah?”
“you wanna have sex? i’ve never wanted someone as bad as i do now. fuck jihoon, how are you so hot?”
“y-you want to have sex? with me?”
“i need you jihoon,” you say as you take of your top, now topless in front of him. he can’t help but groan at your half-nakedness, wanting to see more of you.
“do you want me too?”
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theragethatisdesire · 8 months
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rage's 1000 followers ~drabble disco~
hey hello hi it’s MEEE rage popping in again to blow ur dash up for my 1,000 followers event!!!! i wanted to give us all a little game to play, please light my ask box UP to ur fullest desires, just as a little way for me to say thank u and celebrate :D
rules
i will only write for the following: eren, jean, reiner, levi, erwin, connie, gojo, nanami, toji, geto (sorry if ur fav is left out, these are just the characters i feel the most comfortable with atm!)
can be smut, fluff, angst, or you can leave it open! up to you
if you want to request a specific variation of mine (plug!eren, best friend!eren, cowboy!jean, etc) for the prompt please feel free:)
this goes without saying, but minors, PLEASE get out of here lol my blog is 18+. that being said, please assume all characters are aged up and do not request anything involving a minor (other than like, fluff with dad!eren or something)
without further ado, i give you the following prompts to go crazy with and give me ideas. please feel free to make up your own as well ;)
“He’s practically undressing you with his eyes.”
“Say that again.”
“You look so pretty like this.”
“Fine, but we have to be quick.”
“Right now, I don’t know if I want to kiss you or shove you off a cliff.” “Can I pick for you?”
“How drunk are you?” “Can I kiss you?” “Okay, so very.”
“Why’d you leave?”
“Stay with me tonight. Please?”
“Hold on, I’ll get us out of here, okay? Just hold on.”
“Is that blood?” “...No.”
“You can tell me anything.”
“Don’t push your luck.”
“You came?” “Of course I came, it's you.”
“Do you trust me?”
“That feels so fucking good.”
“Did you just…did you just moan?”
“What do you mean there’s only one bed?”
“Okay…please, don’t freak out, but…”
“Yeah, smile for me, just like that.”
“What do I have to do to shut you up?”
OR WHATEVER YOU WANT OKAY I DON’T MAKE THE RULES (okay i do) but in all seriousness my fingertips and brain are at your disposal!!! go crazy my little angels i can’t wait to hear what you’d like to read <333 many thanks yet again i love you all
ps. if you want to reread any of these or check out the posts, i'm going to tag everything as ragehits1000 :)
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